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simpjaes · 5 months ago

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✘ WIP DIARY ── LAST NIGHT, I READ YOUR DIARY. (p.sh) ✘

Sunghoon has been trying be everything you need since your mother passed. A father, a friend, a therapist. You never really understood what your mother saw in him in the first place, if you’re being honest. He’s awkward, quiet, and typically used to keep to himself up until now. You’re impressed with his efforts by the time you’re entering into your senior year of college, though his entire demeanor towards you seems to have changed. or the one where your step-father grows obsessed with you minute by minute.

── step-dad /weirdo park sunghoon x afab reader

── minors dni

── tags: sunghoon is in his 30s, reader is in her 20s so, age gap, step-cest, heartbreak, obsession, manipulation, coercion, stockholm syndrome-ish, fluff if he manipulates you as a reader lmfao, angst, smut. don't read this if you are easily triggered. ── side characters: heeseung as reader's ex boyfriend, jay as reader's closest friend

── !WARNINGS!: this work contains non-con, dub-con, and stalking behavior. your mom isn’t alive in this fic. warnings will be updated as i write.

── a/n: this one is gonna be a wild ride, that's all i gotta say.

LAST UPDATED: 4.30.25

⨯ est wordcount: 30k+ ⨯ current wordcount: 18k ⨯ est release date: may 2025 for patreon, public release date is still tbd ⨯ completion: 65% of 100% ⨯ scenes written: 12 of 16

⨯ TAGLIST IS NOW CLOSED. if you asked to be on it and you're not, please comment on this post! some of you may have been lost!

15k is now available to read on patreon! UPDATED REVIEW 5.8k:

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Your first heartbreak is meant to be painful, but this? This is more painful than you could have imagined after what you’ve already gone through.

Heeseung was one of your only constants in life. From childhood to high school it’s like he was there more than anyone else was, and certainly more than your own father. Even when your mother passed, Heeseung was the one who held you through it, he’s the one who made you smile again, he’s the one who made you feel like it was okay to heal and keep going despite the horrifying truth of your life.

It’s the fact that it was a “mutual” break up that hurts the most because deep down, you couldn’t see yourself without him at that point. Yet, still, you willingly watched him hop on the plane with a short kiss and long goodbye. It felt so final to you. You could have handled a long distance relationship, truly. But Heeseung didn’t want that. He wanted to explore the world, he wanted to try new things, be with new people.

He wanted to do things without you clinging to him all the time.

In a way, you understand that. After all, you’re the only girl he had ever been with up until now. Senior year of college. You think you knew your relationship was coming to an end by the time he announced he was going to be studying abroad for his final year without ever once even telling you he was applying to do so.

So, yeah, it was mutual solely because you want him to be happy and he’s made it clear that he believes that can only happen without you. Such is life. Painful, painful fucking life.

You can’t imagine being the light in someone’s life anyway.

Just last year when your mother passed, you nearly dropped out and Heeseung had been your rock to make it through class after class with a grade barely high enough to pass. You’re certain some of your professors took pity on you and raised your grade just enough to move forward. You’ll forever thank them for recognizing how hard you were trying to hold it together. But now? Without your mother, without Heeseung, you’re at a loss.

And there’s a difference between loneliness and isolation, you think. Loneliness to you always hits hard during small spaces in your day, like when you’d get into Heeseung’s car and he would close your door for you. The silence always hurt your ears while he was still making his way around the car to the driver’s seat. A shallow loneliness that you could feel right at the top of your gut, like it was squeezing inside of you and making you lose your appetite. Solely because that silence reminded you of what you always had, a lack of loneliness because of him.

But then there’s isolation. Where it feels forced upon you by other people. Your mother fucking died, Heeseung fucking left, and now you’re just here expected to wake up like you always do, go to class, study hard, sleep well, when the reality of it is– you’re genuinely struggling just to look at yourself in the mirror.

Then there’s Sunghoon. The only person close enough to you now that you can reach out to. The issue with that is you’ve never actually been close. And that’s what sucks. The fact that he of all people is all you have now? May as well just assume you have nobody.

His regular calls meant close to nothing to you in the grand scheme of things. Despite him calling twice a week every week since your mother died, your step-father is just as distanced from you as you are him. You’re aware that it’s his obligation, not because he cares. And that hurts, because it’s all you have now.

Now, you have to try and find meaning in those short calls. After all, Sunghoon fell apart when your mother passed all on his own, with no one beside him. You had only called him out of obligation too. You were already in college and stressed, falling apart yourself with someone to love beside you helping you through it. Calling him when it all happened felt empty because you knew both of you were trying to hold it together and save face.

It wasn’t like this before she died. In fact, he never called and you never cared for him to. You’d see each other when you were home, share awkward pleasantries, and that’s it. It’s hard to believe that now you feel like you need a father, after all those years of practically rejecting him as one. He seemed fine with the rejection after you hit your teen years. He knew by then that he could never be the father you want, but at least he could be the husband your mother needed.

You have grief in common now though. Loneliness. Isolation.

You try not to think about how you were okay up until now. Having Heeseung to fall back on to soften the blow of your loss, you guess Sunghoon didn’t have that. Maybe his monotone voice and empty words through phone calls were his way of coping, a way of hearing a voice that wasn’t the one in his own head.

It’s just you and a man you never considered family past the titles and obligatory respects. Finding meaning in his short phone calls does nothing to help your growing isolation, but you cling to them now that Heeseung is gone. You wait for the calls, you ask him to check in with you every day now, to the point Sunghoon starts to notice the difference in you.

No longer rushing to get off the phone. Now, you’re dragging on meaningless conversations. Now, he hears cracks in your voice.

“You feeling okay?” Sunghoon asks you, in a way that makes you wonder how he’s able to tell that you’re definitely not. The way his own voice has a bit of life to it when he asks it is…strange too. Like he’s concerned.

“No–” You trail off in your meek voice, staring at your ceiling and mind swirling with all of the work you need to get done for classes already. “I’ve only been in classes for a week and I already feel like I’m drowning.”

Sunghoon sighs into the speaker, contemplating how to further the conversation with you in a way that isn’t too intrusive. After all, who is he to pry? Still, he never intended for you to feel neglected or like you couldn’t come to him. After all, you were too happy about his lack of parenting you throughout his presence in your life.

He finds solace in the fact that you’ve been accepting him now, though he hasn’t the slightest idea as to why. He’s checked in with you since the passing, but lately it feels to him like something more is going on with you. He may be somewhat estranged, and he may have his own problems to deal with, but you’re still someone he needs to be here for.

Plus, it makes him feel needed again, which is nice considering the circumstances. After living in this bustling house with you and your mom for so long, to it just being him and your mom, to now just him…all that remains now is dread, dissociation, and his own thoughts.

“Did something happen?” Sunghoon keeps his questions short, offering more silence if anything for you to use this call as a therapy session if you need.

You pause for a long moment, realizing that you want to talk about your issues so badly but don’t quite feel the need to share it with him, of all people. You’ve already ranted day after day to Jay. To the point you’re sure he’s about one rant away from blocking your number.

Probably because you’re not that close to him either. Not these days, anyway.

You sigh instead.

“No…” You trail off. “I think I just miss being home. My dorm mate is never here, class work is already piling up, and I can’t even find the energy to look at the assignments.”

Sunghoon can tell you’re feeling much like he does and he can’t imagine the weight on your shoulders dealing with these feelings while also in college. Sure, he has work, but it comes easy when he doesn’t even need to leave the house for it. When he’s the boss, and when he has people to practically do his job for him. You don’t have that.

But, you have Heeseung, do you not? It appears to him that you’ve been doing okay until now, and you haven’t even brought him up. Not once in the past few weeks has his name been uttered by you. Which is strange, after all, the two of you were practically attached at the hip growing up, to the point of choosing the same college, working the same jobs, and even keeping that middle-school puppy love in full swing throughout highschool and college.

If anything, after your mother passed, Sunghoon felt okay knowing you had Heeseung there with you to help you through it. It meant he could focus on himself and get through the day-to-day. He could barely handle his own mournful thoughts, let alone the daughter’s feelings of the woman he loved so dearly. He was forever grateful for Heeseung during this time.

He has his suspicions now though, and his heart aches for the voice he hears from you these days.

“Why don’t you come home for a while?” He lends a pause to see if you’ll jump for the opportunity before selling the idea to you. “I have the bills here covered and your campus is only a forty minute drive. I’m sure that’s inconvenient but you won’t have bills to worry about on top of everything else.” He doesn’t want to sound too desperate, of course.

After all, the loneliness he’s feeling is also becoming unbearable. Even if the two of you never were able to see eye to eye, or to form a bond together, you’re all he has left of your mother. He, arguably, is nothing to you, but there’s no one else in this world he’d rather heal the loneliness with outside of you. Only because you knew your mother on a level deeper than he did, and to have someone to share those memories with, or even laugh with, would help him tremendously too.

“I think being at home may do you some good.”

You think it over in your head, wondering if being home will help you at all. In reality, you know it may make you feel more trapped than you do now. All those memories with your mother, with Heeseung, with all of your friends that have since moved to different colleges.

But…you wouldn’t be alone. You’d be with someone who knows how to give you space because he’s never even tried to shrink your existence to that of your bedroom and your bedroom alone. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent, food, or anything aside from studies, gas money, and trying to heal from your heartbreak.

Your dorm is small, you note as you look around the room and wonder how long it would take you to pack your things up. Two hours, give or take. The longest part would be taking all of the little decorations off the wall, if you’re being honest.

You find yourself nodding before answering, solidifying in your mind that– maybe you’re not the only one who needs company in your space. Not too close, but close enough to not be totally isolated.

“Okay.” You mutter into the phone, for some reason feeling the tears well up behind your eyes.

You’re just a bit overwhelmed, that’s all. Knowing you’re going home feels like a relief you didn’t know you needed.

“Yeah?” Sunghoon confirms. “Just let me know when and I’ll drive up there to help get your stuff back home.”

You agree, sighing into the phone with a shaking voice. Sunghoon takes note of it, always remembering and quite frankly missing how loud and obnoxious you used to be. Hearing you like this pains him. He wants to help. Now more than ever is his chance to be someone you need, and he hates knowing he hasn’t already become that person for you.

Getting to be your father now? It feels awkward, but at least it’s a feeling other than loss.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Sunghoon sighs at you through the speaker. “I know I’m not someone you like coming to but–well, I’d like for you to rely on me more, okay?”

You find a lot of comfort in those words, despite hearing him say them time and time again. This is the first time he’s ever shown that he means it through the offer of bringing you home, rather than just saying it and accepting whatever you say back to him at face value.

“I know…” You trail off. “I’m okay though, really.”

Sunghoon hates himself for never forcing you to accept him. Sure, there may have been some teenage defiance towards him, but eventually the two of you could have seen eye to eye. He could have been someone you needed. You could have relied on him too, rather than just Heeseung. That’s all he can really think right now. If there was ever a good time to do this, it was probably a year ago, the second best time is now.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else going on?” The man nearly pleads in his tone, desperate to have someone rely on him again. “I’ve never heard you sound so exhausted before, I can’t help but worry.”

You’d tell him, but honestly, what grown ass man wants to hear about a first heartbreak? It would just get awkward again, he’d just feel obligated to do something about it, and worse, he might end up feeling like he’s supposed to dislike Heeseung now.

You choose to remain silent in the final straw that broke your back this semester.

“Really, I’m just tired.” You nod to yourself as you hold your phone loosely against your ear. “I might not go to class tomorrow and just pack instead. I’ll just call you when I’m ready, is that okay?”

Sunghoon smiles to himself, wanting to mean something to you in a way that can hopefully help you out of this slump. Your mother would be throwing a fit if she heard how you’ve been sounding, he can’t help but take over that role and try to make damn sure you are okay.

“That’s fine,” Sunghoon confirms. “I’ll call and let them know what’s going on so don’t worry about any of that. Just get yourself ready to come back home.”

You find yourself smiling, relieved that you don’t have to be the one to contact your school and tell them that…well, you’re breaking your student-lease, dropping your food plan, and need to be reimbursed for partial tuition costs since Sunghoon insists every semester that you purchase tuition insurance. You should no longer be charged to live on campus, or for the facilities within the dorm.

Knowing you’ll at least get back a couple thousand dollars is a nice change of pace, and already you’re feeling weirdly excited to go back to a space that will likely make you miss your mother more. It’ll hurt, but at least you won’t be alone.

The forty minute drive to campus feels less horrifying now, and maybe your friends will still come and hang out with you in your actual home rather than a tiny dorm.

“Sounds good.” You say, as if to end the call before you mutter out again. “Thank you, by the way. Sunghoon, really.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon knew he was spiraling further and further into his loneliness. He knew it wasn’t healthy either, but now. Oh, now he realizes just how bad it’s gotten as he demonizes himself upon picking you up.

You haven’t come home since your mother’s funeral, and even on that day he barely remembers what you looked like. Eye contact was never a thing for him, but looking at you now, he sees how much you’ve matured since you went off to college. Truly sees it.

Your once bright, excited eyes have turned dull and empty. The bags under them are heavy from lack of sleep. Your lips appear to be in a permanent state of pouting, though he isn’t sure if you’ve noticed. You appear to have lost weight, which is concerning for him of course, but…there’s something else about you.

Something that sits in the pit of his stomach and rots.

“Uh–” You cough, noting the way Sunghoon looks at you as you try to hand him a large box. “Thank you for helping me move my stuff back…”

Sunghoon snaps out of his thoughts, grabbing a heavy box and then waiting for you to stack another on top.

“No big deal,” He mutters, feeling the weight in his hands double as he prepares to carefully carry your things out to his car. “You haven’t been home in a while so, I’ve fixed up your room for you and went ahead and connected my gaming system in there.”

You nod quietly, feeling awkward for how fatherly he seems.

“Thanks…” You trail off, flopping a pile of your things into his trunk before stopping to look at him. “You look like shit.”

Sunghoon furrows his brows, noticing for a split second how that facial expression you made is very similar to one his wife used to throw at him when he’d have hair out of place, or a wardrobe malfunction. And then he smiles.

“You’re not looking too good yourself.” He jokes out to you with a small, breathy laugh.

You smile back at him, feeling a bit of the awkward air fizzle away.

“Well, I’m not doing well, so.”

You were continuing the joke, but his face falls before yours does.

“You can talk to me–” He starts.

“I know, I know.” You wave him off. “I’ll feel a lot better once we get back and I can settle in.

There’s a nod from him now, and then silence as the two of you continue to put the rest of your belongings into both his car and your own.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in a bit?” You say now, awkwardly.

Sunghoon nods, looking you over once again.

“See you in a bit.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Shame.

Pure fucking shame.

Sunghoon knew he needed another presence in this house but upon seeing you again, he knew that this may have been a mistake.

He likes to think of himself as level headed. He’s never gotten into any trouble, never had a stray thought, never cheated, lied, or stole anything. He can’t think of a single thing that he’s done in life to be considered taboo. But simply looking at you feels…incorrect?

Indecent?

You’re his step-daughter for fuck sake but it’s the fact that you don’t feel like you are. When he looks at you, he just sees another person. He did this to help you, he did this to feel needed, to be your fucking father.

He did not do this to look at you this way or to feel his eye stray even without his intention. Why do you look so much like her? Why do you do that thing with your pinky when you carry things like she did? You even have a similar smell, probably having picked up on your mother’s habits throughout childhood.

You being here…It’s like she’s still here. Except it’s you, and he can’t be thinking this way yet his mind still spirals. Already he’s caught himself nearly calling out her name rather than yours when your back is turned to him.

And for you, it just feels…too nostalgic right now. Walking through the door for the first time and not being able to see your mother running to greet you.

Ouch. It’s like your body reacted, dropping everything in your hands to expect a hug, only to feel and see nothing while Sunghoon bumped into your back by accident with your things.

“Oh– Sorry.” He said briefly, stepping back and trying not to drop your boxes.

You moved quickly out of his way, stepping into the room and grabbing a box from him. The smell in the house hit you harder than anything though. It still smells like her perfume, you suspect Sunghoon must be spraying it quite often for it to be this strong.

It’s suffocating. So much so that it takes every ounce of energy for you to gather the rest of your things to put them in your room without your eyes burning with tears. Only able to breathe one full breath when the bedroom door is closed and your window is open.

This is not how you cope. Still being able to smell her hurts, despite knowing it’s nothing more than a too-expensive bottle of perfume you can buy from any high end store. It’s more than that to you, and more than that to Sunghoon. It’s her.

That scent he had grown accustomed to does not assault his nostrils, if at all, his skin burns when the air isn’t polluted by it. Still, unaware of why, Sunghoon had noted the rush in your step. He tries to pay no mind to the way you lock yourself behind that door, knowing you’re needing to settle in before he makes any effort to be who you need right now. After all, his mind is struggling to be a good father right now too. He needs the distance just like you do.

And what exactly does being a good father entail, exactly? Give you your space, make sure you’re fed, throw around a few shitty jokes? Fuck if he knows. All he can do is try to pretend that this isn’t awkward. That his mind isn’t going in fifteen different directions regarding this situation as a whole. Ten of those directions being…well, not savory for most.

Intrusive thoughts. That’s new, even for him.

So, he lets you stay in that room walls away, and he mimics the action himself by closing himself in his own bedroom that he’s grown to despise. Alone again, empty, lying in a bed that always felt so full until she was no longer here.

The walls, empty of photos because he struggled to look at them day after day. The scent of her perfume is still in the air by his own doing. Nothing has changed for the better, even with you just down the hallway. And you can argue that you feel the same.

Then again, expecting an immediate change is more insane than the two of your struggling minds put together.

Already, you miss the tiny dorm room you just abandoned. There weren't many places to cry in there, but here there’s far too many corners with memories, far too many walls and windows to contemplate while you stare off. Much like him, much much like Sunghoon, it just feels…worse.

You find yourself lying down on your childhood bed trying not to kick and scream. You remember the last time you had a tantrum in this bed and the reasoning feels so small to you now as you anticipate the bubbled feeling of loss claw and scratch at your chest. Your mother wouldn’t let Heeseung sleep over, even though you offered to leave the door open and promised that there would be no funny business.

He was so happy with you back then, cheeky and mischievous smirks at each lie you’d tell your mother. You both knew the door would fall shut by “accident” like it had done so many times before.

Funny how the two who caused that tantrum are no part of you now outside of fond memory and pain. Even funnier how the tantrum you could throw now would end far more dangerously, with ripped sheets and broken windows.

You just cry quietly instead, pushing the assignments you still need to try and prioritize to the back of your mind, hoping that this short one week break from classes will help you get your head screwed on straight.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The days blur together during your time off, pretending to laugh and enjoy conversation with a step-father you barely know well enough for it to be real. It became routine after the first day, which is kind of helpful because routine is what you need right now.

Something to focus on, something to keep you from wondering where it all went wrong for the last light in your life to flicker itself out so willingly. Still, you wonder where Heeseung’s head has been since your mother’s passing. You must have grown to be too much for him, too heavy of a burden on his shoulders to stay much longer with you through it.

You appreciate him if that’s how he felt, because you really had no idea. He was always so gentle, loving, and kind towards you. Never changed in any way, or even acted as if he was hiding anything. That– you think, proves that in some way, he does truly love you. Or, did love you. Just not in the way you need.

He may not have enough love in his body to stabilize someone like you. Someone who is entirely unbalanced on this earth. And when you look at Sunghoon sometimes, you wonder how much he loved your mother, or how he got through it without someone to constantly exhaust with his mournful antics like you did.

The circles under his eyes and that permanent furrow in his brow shows the stress he’s been living with. You never thought he could appear more dull and lifeless even before she passed, but now. Now he looks dull. Now he truly looks lifeless, lost, maybe even as if he died with her. There’s part of you that feels bad over how you thought of him previously compared to now because of it. Thinking back, there was so much more life in him, and probably so much of him to enjoy from your mother’s perspective. You just never cared to see it.

You missed the chance to see what it is about Sunghoon to love, and now all you can see is a shell of a person who made your mother the happiest she had ever been, if you can call it that. You know it wasn’t Sunghoon’s fault, if anything, he’s the reason she held on for so long.

And you note the house’s condition more and more as you wander around, almost like this isn’t your own childhood home. It’s pristine now, in immaculate condition. Never has the house been this clean, and perhaps that’s why you feel like you don’t entirely belong anymore. It doesn’t feel like it has been lived in. You don’t know how he finds the energy to keep the place clean after the nature of your mother’s death came to light. Or even how to stay in this house at all, in that bedroom, sleeping on that bed.

He’s still hurting. Maybe even more than you.

The worst part of it is that you truly felt like you were healing when Heeseung was with you, but it turns out, he was just a bandaid and a distraction. He didn’t like seeing you sad, so he wouldn’t let you feel those things if he could help it. You couldn’t mourn, you didn’t want to mourn.

Now you have to.

It’s hard to truly believe you were healing only to find out that you haven’t faced the loss of your mother at all and now you’re forced to face not only her passing, but Heeseung prying you off of him and moving out of the country just to get away from you.

He still loves you, right? He doesn’t resent you…right?

It’s just you and Sunghoon now, hopefully you can get through it together. So, you try. You try to use some of your time to spend with him, to genuinely laugh at his jokes, and mock his attempts to pretend that the two of you have always been close just for the sake of pretending like a family.

No smile reaches the eye though, for either of you.

It feels easier as the days pass though, up until you’ve got only two days left before you need to start going back to campus. You spend them trying to make the days lighter. Opening windows to erase the scent of your mother, because in all fairness… seeing Sunghoon discreetly spray her perfume every morning is really, really heartbreaking. Additionally, you’re trying to let the dishes pile up in the sink and practically plead with Sunghoon to just…leave them.

Let the house be a mess for once. No more nervous cleaning, no more busying yourself with things that don’t matter. No more, no more.

And it’s like hell for him seeing you try so hard to feel okay, but he relents to your pleas of letting the house become a mess. His hands itch to clean, but his heart burns knowing that if you feel better, maybe he will too. Even with the scent of your mother wafting out the windows into the big, horrifying world, he tries to stay away from that bottle of perfume too. He misses her so much that it nearly crippled his brain.

Somehow, you’re bringing a type of normalcy back despite the dark thoughts that he doesn’t allow to surface. Still, there’s a long way to go with this, it seems. He knows all too well how you fall apart once your bedroom door is closed. The effort from you is endearing during the daylight hours though, and he softens up at you everytime.

Yet, those hidden tears aren’t just for your mother and he knows it. There is something else happening.

“So, how has Heeseung been?” Sunghoon asks over dinner. A shitty bag of takeout mending both of you bite by bite.

He doesn’t notice at first the way you fall silent, awkward again as if it’s still the first day you came home.

“Oh–” You come up with excuses, with lies. “He’s taking a semester off to see his mom. Guess what happened rattled him a bit too, wanted to hug her and stuff.”

Sunghoon’s gaze stays on you as you avoid eye contact. You’re lying, he knows it. He remembers your mother always calling you on your little lies when you still lived here too. “She always curls her pinky and ring finger when she’s lying.” She had chuckled to him back when she still had a twinkle of hope in her eyes. He recalls how you slammed your door that night, lying about being with Heeseung when you said you were with your very obvious not-best-friend.

Your mother would have let you go, but you were just a teenager and she had to at least pretend to parent you. Sunghoon loved watching her do it. All the laughs that came out of it, learning about you through her and her alone.

Now, he sees your hands on top of the table and he focuses on that pinky and ring finger curling into your fist. Such a small action telling on you.

The point is, Heeseung wouldn’t just up and leave you like that, not in a million years, Sunghoon thinks as he remembers the sheer amount of times he’s met the boy. In fact, it was rare to see you without Heeseung.

“I see…” He trails off, taking another bite of his food before washing it down with a gulp of soda. “Has he called you?”

You feel it in your stomach, the fact that you’ve even avoided asking yourself that question. Because no, of course he hasn’t. And he probably hasn’t because he knew you didn’t want to break up despite pretending it was okay. It’s for you, he’s giving you space. It’s not because he doesn’t care.

“Yeah,” You nod, trying to mask yourself to be perfectly fine. “The other day he called super late and I was already asleep so we didn’t really get to talk.”

“Does he know you’ve moved back home?”

You nod slowly, wishing that Sunghoon would go back to not really caring about what’s going on in your life.

“Yep.” You lie again. “Seems pretty happy about it, said he thought it would help me since he’s not around anymore.”

Unfortunately, you don’t notice the slight slip of your tongue. He’s not around anymore. That sounds far more permanent than a simple home visit where he misses his mommy due to the death of your own.

“Ah, that makes sense.” Sunghoon watches you and your nervous body language. Lie after lie plastered blatantly on those false-smiling lips. “Forgive me if I’m prying but, don’t you think it’s selfish that he just up and left to see his own mother after–well,”

You nod without intent before raising your hands in defense of Heeseung.

“No, no!” You exclaim, Sunghoon noting how this is the most emotion you’ve had all day. “I don’t blame him. I’d probably do the same thing.”

He relents now, realizing it’s probably too early to expect real, honest answers from you. Even if he’s just curious, he would assume anyone would be considering the way you and Heeseung, again, were attached at the hip.

“Well, I’m still here for you.” He finally says.

Before, you’d just wave him off, but now? It feels like your efforts are making it so that you pay attention when he says those words. When he pretends to care, or offers his comfort. He’s really all you have now, and maybe it’s just your own mind telling you that. Then again, maybe it’s all that sorrow and guilt that’s doing it.

“I know…” You sigh, losing your appetite entirely. “You can talk to me too though, you know?”

Changing the subject seems easier. The fact that Sunghoon is trying so hard right now does mean a lot to you, but even if your relationship with him wasn’t estranged– you still wouldn’t be ready to talk about how Heeseung left you the way you did. Not yet at least.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Sunghoon responds warmly, not mentioning how much you should.

“Focus on you.”

You nod, looking down at the table and recognizing that this food that once smelled so delicious to you is now turning your stomach.

“I do worry though.” You mutter.

Sunghoon sees your fingers uncurl from your fist at those words and he physically can feel as his heart swells. Finally, someone worries for him again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

This fic will be dark, very taboo, morally bad. Not a grey area, it is blatantly bad. sunghoon will do bad things. Please be aware of your own triggers once it's completed and posted. I write within my own triggers, not yours. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

#enhypen smut #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #wips

2K notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 6 months ago

Text

i will always love you | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem bodyguard reader

what he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with his bodyguard? this IS a rom com

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1insider

liked by user1, user2 and 45.925 others

f1insider: red bull have confirmed that max verstappen will have a bodyguard for the rest of this season after increasingly aggressive fan activity towards drivers at races. what do you think about it?

view all comments

user3: i completely understand that it’s insane that it’s gotten to the point where he needs a bodyguard …. but like JEALOUS

user4: i pray there’s never any need for her to do her actual job

user5: f1 need to sort it out i agree

user4: i meant because i would be no better than a man im sorry god but i want to watch her fight someone 😫

user6: this should’ve been done so long ago but i’m glad they’ve finally made the step

user7: what i find crazy is that people can afford a paddock pass and wanna fight the drivers ??? what a waste of money GIVE THEM TO ME

user8: i’m being completely serious when i say … any punk ass influencer tries to film max in the bathroom i want this bodyguard to shoot them with a gun

user9: no i agree

user10: and when i do it on purpose so she can beat the shit out of me ??

user11: choke

user12: she look familiar to any of you?

user13: i thought i had seen her before but like i just can’t quite recall

user14: swiftie here! she was taylor’s bodyguard for a couple years so you probably have seen her in paparazzi photos or something

user15: taylor swift and now max verstappen i need her agent

user16: the thought of that massive hunk of a man cowering behind her is killing me

user17: it’s killing you? it’s getting me excited this is so romance book coded

user18: you people’s obsession with putting people in “relationship” is the worst thing to happen to the sport

user19: i agree! (they would be unbelievably cute)

user20: i’m glad to see we’re all being very serious about the state of the sport where a driver needs a bodyguard and not the fact that said bodyguard is visually appealing

user21: sky i will deal with your bias if you give us the visual on her

user20: jesus wept

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 120,399 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: new job, same friendship bracelets

view all comments

user22: WE FOUND YOU

user23: hi mother !!!!

user24: we miss you serving face with taylor :(

maxverstappen1: you were a bodyguard for TAYLOR SWIFT ???

yourusername: you didn't read my CV? you had the last say on me being hired?

maxverstappen1: i let GP read them and he's never steered me wrong before

yourusername: that seems irresponsible

maxverstappen1: ANYWAY my point was going to be ... can we still get eras tour tickets?

yourusername: i can see what i can do

maxverstappen1: what if you just called taylor up?

yourusername: do NOT reference the kardashians if you want tickets

maxverstappen1: noted :3

user25: i can't have anything in this life ??? what do you mean you've worked with taylor and max?

user26: she looks so hot with a gun i'm starting to think the NRA are on to something

yourusername: absolutely not get out of here with that shit

user27: oh she educated as well? will you accept my hand in marriage?

maxverstappen1: 🤨

landonorris: and if i said you could guard me all night

yourusername: it's kinda my job to guard max all night

landonorris: but you'd rather guard me 😉

yourusername: i doubt you'd pay me as well as max

landonorris: i can pay you other ways 😉

maxverstappen1: lando i will break your fingers one by one

user28: max is out here like SHE IS MY BODYGUARD

user29: him being possessive... idk where to look but both of them - mark me scared AND horny

user30: TOO REAL

maxverstappen1

liked by schecoperez, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,452,099 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: simply lovely to be back on the top step in brazil, @yourusername you're clearly my lucky charm

view all comments

user31: max does a generational drive and immediately gets on instagram to flirt with his bodyguard

user32: he's so real for that because look at y/n

user33: i once thought swifties were crazy for being so obsessed with her but now i am just as bad lol

yourusername: nuh uh that drive was all you big boy

maxverstappen1: heheheehehe

maxverstappen1: did i make a good first impression?

yourusername: a very good first impression ;)

maxverstappen1: are you proud of me?

yourusername: very proud maxy

maxverstappen1: :3 thank you <3

user34: what in praise kink did i just read?

user35: i know he's done it in a very public forum but just leave them to do whatever they gotta do

user36: i know this man saw her in a suit and with a gun and fell to his knees

yourusername: well... close enough!

landonorris: idc about all of that ^^ i'm still going to shoot my shot

yourusername: is me rejecting you luck or talent?

landonorris: HUH ?????

yourusername: i may just be a bodyguard but i still have working ears 👍

user37: okay so she does serve more than just looks ...

user38: she's got a fan in me now

charles_leclerc: let me just sit back and observe

yourusername: you good?

charles_leclerc: i am sitting back and observing

yourusername: you are observing very loudly

charles_leclerc: i am just watching max embarrass himself, this is very healing for my younger self

maxverstappen1: RUDE

yourusername: he's not embarrassing himself if it's working?

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen1, schecoperez and 2,451,045 others

redbullracing: statement regarding today's incident.

view all comments

user42: sorry red bull but i want that video tattooed on my eye balls

user43: i am so unbelievably hot and bothered after seeing that video

user44: red bull i'm afraid you'll have to take that video out of my cold dead hands

landonorris: i didn't realise the paddock came with dinner and a show today

oscarpiastri: lando they tried to kill max...

landonorris: well he was never in any actual danger with y/n around

oscarpiastri: do you ever read the PR briefs?

landonorris: PR whats?

oscarpiastri: this is starting to make a whole lot of sense

user45: they'll try to cancel lando for this but like he's being real

user46: no because why was george russell and kimi antonelli literally in the back of the footage eating LITERAL POPCORN

user47: i've never wanted to be two people so bad

maxverstappen1: i lived bitch

yourusername: MAX????

maxverstappen1: because of you, i'm forever in debt to you <3

yourusername: just doing my job :)

maxverstappen1: so you didn't just do it because of your undying love for me :(

yourusername: i think that would be inappropriate

maxverstappen1: THAT'S NOT FAIR, THEY CAN'T TRY AND KILL ME AND YOU CAN'T SAY YOU HATE ME IN ONE DAY

yourusername: oh maxy, do you need a cup of tea

maxverstappen1: and a hug ????

yourusername: yes, even a hug

user48: oh to have max that pathetically down bad for you

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 2,309,773 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: can you people stop thirsting over my girlfriend please - i may not be able to fight but she can

view all comments

user49: HE HAD ENOUGH

user50: i mean i too think thirst comments from my literal friends would throw me over the edge

user51: he was like winning in brazil is not enough i gotta watch my gf beat the fuck out of someone and then publicly claim her

yourusername: you're puffing out your chest in the paddock when all the girls on the internet are thirsting over you - if anyone should be jealous it's me

maxverstappen1: but you're so much better than anyone else i am horrendously in love with you

yourusername: HORRENDOUSLY

maxverstappen1: i have never felt anything like this? im scared???

yourusername: no need to be scared baby i'm in for the long ride

yourusername: and i can and WILL protect you

maxverstappen1: i need to report a hostage situation? it's me in my bedroom - i need to be saved

yourusername: you're so cheesy, you're lucky i love you

user52: i have another hostage situation - it's me in this comment section

user53: watching them be in love is like torture to me i'm so lonely

user54: they need a trigger warning i fear

maxverstappen1: @landonorris @pierregasly @olliebearman suck on that

landonorris: LEAVE ME ALONE

pierregasly: don't hate the player hate the game

olliebearman: why did you say fuck me for ????

maxverstappen1: i've seen those looks ollie don't lie to me

yourusername: babe i think he might just be scared of me

olliebearman: WOMEN IN POSITIONS OF POWER SCARE ME I'M SO SORRY Y/N

yourusername: no worries ollie! max is just possessive

maxverstappen1: ugh duh! you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, obviously i want to keep you to myself

yourusername

liked by olliebearman, maxverstappen and 342,067 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: and iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii will always love you! sorry it had to be done - whitney houston is a LEGEND

view all comments

user56: of course she knows that song, she's basically living that story

user57: OF COURSE SHE KNOWS THAT SONG IT'S ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS SONGS EVER ???

yourusername: and you can bet your ass the red bull garage have been singing it non stop since i arrived

redbullracing: singing is our passion

maxverstappen1: they'd have to kill me to keep me from you DEADASS (pun intended)

yourusername: and that won't be happening because i'll be there to protect you

maxverstappen1: i'm not opposed to watching you deal with a problem in the paddock

landonorris:WHY WAS I MADE THE BAD PERSON WHEN I SAID I WANTED TO WATCH ???

maxverstappen1: because it was my life that an attempt was made on ?

landonorris: and?

maxverstappen1: AND?

landonorris: it would've made winning the championship much easier ?

yourusername: nuh uh i would jump into that red bull and win out of spite

maxverstappen1: it's true, i've been training her up

landonorris: you gonna let me have anything

maxverstappen1: nope :P

yourusername: nope :P

user58: oh they're so annoying 😭

user59: true ride or die couples are so irritating

user60: i still wish i was them

danielricciardo: i get fired and you get a girlfriend ??? how is this fair

maxverstappen1: idk what you want me to say, i'd never give y/n up for anything

danielricciardo: not even a red bull maxiel reunion

maxverstappen1: sorry buddy, maxiel is dead

danielricciardo: EXCUSE ME?

yourusername: sorry daniel, there's a new sheriff in town - should've charmed max when you had a chance

maxverstappen1: try as he might, he'd never be you

yourusername: awwwww considering your massive teenage crush on him... i love you!

danielricciardo: so fuck me then?

fin.

note: TWO IN ONE WEEKEND WHAT?

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 #f1 social media au #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen social media au

2K notes · View notes

aphrvdisiac · 6 months ago

Text

TO LIE AND LOVE LIKE YOU DO.

ellie williams & abby anderson x fem!reader.

part two of off to the races.

summary — it’s been months since you ran away from the loves of your life. you think you have escaped them forever — only for them to return, with a sick game of cat and mouse coming into play as they remind you just how much you belong to them.

warning tags — adult language. extremely dark content; m*rder, stalking, possessive and obsessive behavior, threats of kidnapping, lowkey blackmail (?), threats made with a weapon. strong adult content; slapping, spitting, double penetration, edging, mommy and daddy kink(s), gun play, bondage, threesomes.

author’s message — let me know if i forgot any important missing tags for this. please proceed with caution as this part is extremely heavier than the first part; ellie and abby are so not nice in here, and it gets dark pretty quickly.

“Where the fuck could she have gone?” Abby asked, her and Ellie frantically searching the penthouse. “She knows better than to turn off her location, or leave unannounced.”

“She was just here, sleeping and resting,” Ellie stated, and their panic was overcomed with frustration and anger instead. You knew that if you went anywhere without them, that you had to tell them exactly where and your location could never go off.

They would chip you if they could. They have thought about it numerous times.

Ellie’s phone rang, and she grabbed it out of her back pocket, noticing Joel’s contact. “Hello?” She answered, irritation playing into her tone. “What’s goin’ on, Joel?”

“The police are heading to your place,” Joel said, and Ellie put the call on speaker. “I don’t know what you two have done this time, but it is bad and I am not helpin’ out with any clean ups.”

“What are you talking about?” Ellie asked.

“I’m not some moron, Ellie!” He yelled, and she rolled her eyes. “They know you killed someone. They know your girlfriend was with you, too. I called her, and asked questions.”

“You did what?” Abby shouted. “Joel, what the fuck!”

That’s how they knew you had run away from them. You were a timid and easily frightened individual, and now that you were aware of what they had done, you scurried away and were going to hide. The pair knew they had some time to track you down to your home.

“Fuck off, Joel,” Ellie cursed, ending the call. “We have time to get her, to make up a story or whatever. We can avoid the police for the night?”

They agreed to find you and explain everything, to lure you back to them as they assured that there was nothing to worry about.

Abby’s eyes go wide. “The shirt.”

Ellie cursed under her breath, running to the closet and into the hamper — only to find the shirt completely gone. You had taken it, and now many possibilities surged through their heads.

“It’s gone!” Ellie yelled, and before the two could leave the penthouse to go to you, two detectives walked in.

The amusing yet realistic part of everything is that even though they knew that you thought you had gotten away for good, they were preparing on how to get you back, and never be able to escape again.

You had a particular interest in Philosophy during high school.

You loved to read the knowledge these scholar men would try to pass on, what they had to say about life, beauty, or death. You wanted to understand their wisdom, their perspective of all things, of everything around them, and how they got to a certain point about it.

You remembered a certain quote from Plato, of how Zeus feared the power of two humans mending together as one, leaving them with four arms, four legs, a head with two faces on it. However, he was so threatened by this that he split them into two, and left them to wander Earth to find each other again.

You had believed in that quote when Ellie and Abby entered your life. These two girls, the most threatening pair, would put a grand shift on your life, and how you perceived it as. They utterly shifted your world, they took you in, and prioritized your needs.

You were worshiped by them.

You couldn’t see beyond the horizon of the world without them there, and in your isolation, you still didn’t know how to.

More than sixty-five days since your departure, leaving them behind, and not hearing a single word from them.

When you came to your parent’s villa, your mother opened the door, and you sobbed into her arms, clutching onto her. She hugged you, stroked your hair, and didn’t know if she should’ve spoken or not.

Your tears soaked into her shirt, and she had to nearly drag you inside, afraid of what was happening with you.

“My dear, what’s going on?” She asked, clear to see the exhausted look on your face, your eyes bloodshot as she sat you both down on the couch. “I haven’t seen you like this in a while.”

“I just… Abby and Ellie,” you sobbed, heavily breathing, and shook your head, still in denial of what they did. “I just need to be here for a while. I’m going to transfer to Oxford.”

“You already decided on Columbia,” your mother stated, and you continued to cry, earning a sigh out of her. “You can’t just drop it now.”

You wanted to scream, “they might kill me if I return. They may never let me go after that.” You knew that they were combing through New York, probably already onto their next target — you knew the lengths they would go to just to have you back.

That was something you couldn’t fucking stomach.

“Mom, please,” you whispered, your voice jagged and shaky. “I just can’t go back to the city.” You stared up at her, and she cradled your face in her hands for a moment before nodding, and let you rest your head on her lap.

“Okay, love. You can stay here,” she assured, rubbing your back, and let you sob until you finally calmed down and fell asleep.

The next morning, your father was telling you about Abby and Ellie, wondering if you had any idea about it.

“They’re in deep shit,” he said, glaring at you. “What are you not telling us?”

“I don’t know anything, dad!” You denied, and your mother stood aside, arms folded. “Joel already asked me the same things that you are! I don’t remember shit from that night!”

“So you were there?” Your dad asked, and you fell quiet. He took your silence as an answer, sighing heavily and rubbed his temple in frustration. “You weren’t with any one of them? At all?”

“I… Ellie gave me some coke,” you confessed, guilt reeling into you as you were partially lying, and throwing her under the rug. “I was having a tough night after this guy was harassing me, and after she gave it to me, I was left with Dina and Jesse.”

An exasperated sigh came from your mother, simply frustrated that you had been doing drugs. You were never going to be her perfect daughter, and you didn’t know how long it was going to take until she accepted that fact.

Your dad took a minute to process this information before grabbing your shoulders, and forcing you to look at him. “From here on out, you know nothing. Do you understand me?”

You nodded, and he brought you into a hug, coddling the back of your head. Your father’s affection was never this tender or earnest, and you knew he was only being protective for the family image, but you didn’t care for that — your father was holding you for the first time since you were eleven.

You had to change your phone number, deactivate any social media you had, and new butlers, maids, and chauffeurs were put into place. Your parents allowed you to move to London a month later, staying in a comfortable flat, but were patrolled by bodyguards in answer to your paranoia.

After your readjustment to life, you prevented yourself from hearing anything Abby or Ellie, or if they were at trial. You needed to focus on yourself, get your shit together, and focus on your classes at Oxford.

A few months into the new school, you kept your head low and isolated — something you were used to doing when at Faye Academy, before they made themselves stuck in your existence.

You considered taking your courses online, but knew you’d only lose your mind being stuck in your flat for days on end.

All in four months, your life was granted something that you’d forgotten — freedom.

Not that Abby and Ellie were extremely possessive, but you haven't known anyone besides them in a while. You were able to make friends at Oxford, go out to bars and diners, without the fear they may kill someone who even breathed in your general direction.

It was a relief. And you felt human again.

Your parents constantly checked in on you, and often tried to visit. It was the first time in a while since they hovered over you, and were concerned for your well being.

“Yes, mom. I’m fine,” you assured over the phone, the device stuck between your shoulder and ear as you were returning your textbooks. “I finished classes early, so I was thinking of going back to Milan for semester break.”

“Well, honey, you see,” your mother started off, clearing her throat. “Your father and I were going to attend a gala tomorrow; Joel is throwing it.”

“I thought you guys cut him off,” you said, rushing out of the library, and to your car. “Especially after everything.”

There was silence.

“Mom?”

“Ellie and Abby were found not guilty,” she said, and your heart sank to your stomach. “The trial concluded yesterday— we didn’t want to say anything.”

You froze in your tracks. “What?”

“They didn’t kill that boy. I guess he had enemies all along,” she continued, and your head spun. “If you come with us, they won’t be there. Joel assured us of it.”

“So everything is just fine now because they’re innocent?” You questioned.

“Honey, you’re acting as if you know something,” she stated, and you exasperatingly sighed, continuing your walk to your vehicle. “But Jerry and Joel did say they were going to get the girls in contact with a psychiatrist.”

“Huh, and why is that?”

“I’m not sure,” she muttered, and you hopped into your car, locking the doors. “Would you like to come? And maybe we can then spend a few days in the city. Shop around Fifth.”

“I’ll think about it, momma. Still unsure about the city,” you said, and she sighed, visibly exasperated with your nerves. “I just don’t want an accidental run in with the girls.”

“You guys were so close,” she remembered. “I don’t know what happened, but I hope you all make up soon; they were the best part of your life.”

“Bye, mom,” is all you said, hanging up the call, and tossed your phone into the passenger seat, along with your book bag. You heavily sighed, staring blankly out into the parking lot.

They were the best part of your life.

They were the tragedy of you. They were Hell masked as Heaven, where their lure was nothing more than a ticket to damnation.

Yet, all of them were bestowed to you. You were their alter, their religion, the only reason as to why they believed in life, as you did with them.

But in your time of being free from their grasp, you could breathe, and find a newer light where nothing could dim it.

Your phone dinged, and your eyes snapped over to it, hands fiddling for the device. You opened up the lock screen to see a message from a random number.

Unknown: Image Attached.

You swallowed thickly, your hands numbing as you unlocked your phone and went to the conversation.

It was a picture of you from last night, hanging out with your friend, Delilah. She was someone you had been fond of since attending Oxford, and you had gotten close to her.

Unknown: Cute girl.

R: Who the fuck is this???

Unknown: Didn’t know running made you so dumb.

Nausea washed over you, and fear rattled in your bones.

Unknown: Hi, little lamb. You miss us?

R: I’ll call the police.

Unknown: I’ll tell them you tampered with evidence. We wouldn’t want that, right? Pretty baby like you isn’t suitable for jail time.

R: You would go down with me.

Unknown: You betrayed us. What makes you think we wouldn’t betray you?

You wanted to break your phone on your steering wheel, and you searched the outside of your car, checking your surroundings. There were only a few students, and it was still light outside.

But you knew they were watching you.

Unknown: You run again, and we will find you.

R: Why now?

Unknown: Had some troubles along the way, baby. But we took our time keeping tabs on you. Oxford treating you nice? How’s every bitch who fucks you?

R: You’re stalking me?

Unknown: You really are fucking stupid.

R: Don’t think I won’t get a restraining order against you.

Unknown: Why would you want that, little lamb? After everything we have done for you? Didn’t take you for an ungrateful brat, you know. We have been there when you needed us, taken care of you, dealt with people for you.

R: You mean murder people.

Unknown: Mhm.

Unknown: Be careful, honey. Scary world we live in.

You tried to send another message, but it wouldn’t go through. “What the fuck, what the fuck!” You screamed, going to your phone contacts, and bringing your phone up to your ear.

“Miss, are you alright?” Carson asked. He had been your personal bodyguard since you moved to London, and was respectful of when you wanted to be alone. “Are you in danger?”

“I need my house and the surrounding area to be checked out,” you said, reviving your car engine, and pressed on the gas. “Check for any sort of security cameras, too. Tell Rosaline to pack a suitcase for me as well, I’m heading to Los Angeles.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Carson answered, the call dropping, and you put your phone in your lap. You were trying not to get into a car accident on your way back to your flat, but you needed to leave the city immediately. You were just happy you finished your courses on time, and you didn’t need to worry about your education for a while.

About to reach home, your phone started to buzz in your lap. You pulled over to the side to look at the contact, only for it to be unknown again.

You hesitated on answering, just wanting to let it ring through, but a part of you wanted to know what sick agenda they had planned out for you. You knew they weren’t going to stop, that they needed you vulnerable and scared in order for them to pounce at you at the perfect moment; just like a prey and predator situation.

A game of cat and mouse.

You accepted the call, putting it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hi, bunny,” you heard Abby’s voice, and your head spun. It had been so long since you heard either girl's voice, that you frowned at the sound of it, and almost how comforting it could be. “Missed you.”

“Abby…” you whispered out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “I… You both need to stop this.”

“Why, bun? You don’t like it?” She asked.

“You and Ellie killed Brandon, and probably many others,” you told her, sniffling as tears carelessly dropped out of your eyes. “I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but murder is wrong.”

“You have the shirt, bunny,” Abby stated, and you went quiet. “Why would you do that, hm? If you really wanted to dispose and run from us, you would’ve left it behind, or turned it over to the police.”

You couldn’t tell her your logic or reasoning behind taking the shirt. It even sounded unreal to you, unbelievable, given the circumstances, and how you ran off.

“I couldn’t help but think of what would happen if you both went to prison,” you admitted, hot water running down your cheeks. “I… You and Ellie protected me, and I thought it was only fair I returned the favor. But that didn’t mean I wanted you in my life again.”

Abby hummed. “And why is that?”

“I’m free,” you muttered, inhaling sharply. “You and her wanted to keep me in a cage, keep me locked up forever. You have done it ever since you stepped into my life, and I couldn’t see it until that evening.”

“You make it sound so horrible, bunny,” she breathily chuckled, able to hear Ellie’s own laughter roughly in the background. “Let me ask you again; who’s going to put up with you? Who was fucking there when Miranda Rhodes was fucking spilling rumors about you having eating disorders? Who the fuck handled Timothy Yales after he said he had sex with you after Winter formal?”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT!” You shouted, millions of emotions flooding over you, and taking you at once, drowning “I never once fucking told you or Ellie to go out of your way to do that shit! I can fucking handle myself, and being away from you both has proved that.”

“Oh, bunny. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” Abby stated, sharp and clear with you. She talked as if you were dumb, that you were about out of your mind.

You could nearly burst apart, everything of you filled with terror and rage. You weren’t sure if they expected you to bow at their feet for all their maniacal endeavors they willingly decided to partake in, but you weren’t going to.

You had come this far without them, you had managed to escape them for a good time, and you weren’t planning on stopping everything now. You weren’t going to surrender your freedom and life all for them, all because you knew what they were, and what they could do.

“If I have to turn in that shirt to make sure I never see either of you ever again, I will,” you said, and hung up the call, dropping your phone back into your lap, and continued to drive back home.

The moment your car was parked, you rushed up the stairs of the building, and bursted through your front door. Your guards were all there, Rosaline getting finished up with your second suitcase as Carson approached you from the side.

“Miss, we have searched the area,” he stated, following you while you walked into your bedroom. “We found no sort of threat, especially here. I have called your family’s plane to be prepped and ready for take off to Los Angeles.”

“Carson, please close the door,” you said, sitting down on the edge of your naked bed. He listened, shutting it, leaving you and him in your bedroom as you looked up at him. “I need to ask a question, and this stays between us. Do you get that?”

“Of course, ma’am. I am under your and your parents serving,” he reassured, keeping himself near the door, a secure radius between the both of you.

“Is it possible for me to avoid the law? Few months ago, I may or may have not tampered with evidence,” you blurted, and he inhaled heavily, but nodded, tuned in with you. “My reason is so stupid, but I’m regretting keeping it in my possession, and I don’t want to anymore.”

“Well, what is it?” He wondered.

“A shirt,” you began, and he cocked his head to the side. “With blood on it. Someone’s blood who isn’t mine, because my ex-girlfriends in New York beat this dude who was harassing me.”

“And you want to turn this in now?” Carson asked, and you nodded. “Okay, miss. I’m going to see what I can do, and once I do, you can hand it over to me.”

“Thank you so much, Carson,” you smiled, standing up. “Now, let’s head to the city of angels.”

You had your own bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. It was cozy and spacious, everything to your liking, but only stayed at it when you wanted to escape home. You had once brought Abby and Ellie, and to that, you had to undergo a whole alias, and a different room.

You didn’t have much anxiety about being at Chateau, you were packed with protection, and knew the pair wouldn’t make so much time or risks since their trial had concluded, also sure that Abby understood your threat about the shirt.

You had flown late into the night, it was about three in the morning of the next day, and you were drained with exhaustion. Sleep was becoming you, yet you were on high alert, and couldn’t help but to keep checking your phone.

You worried that there would be another call, or a text; that they weren’t quite finished with their game. In your isolation, you had much time to mull over Abby and Ellie, the things they were capable of, or the people they were.

You knew blood and carnage were them. Their beauty and charm was a simple mask that only you were able to see past as violence and cruelty rotted in their souls. Maybe they couldn’t help how callous and aggressive they could be, but they lived off of it; it was all they were. There was nothing to stop them, nothing that could change them.

In a sense, you assumed your presence and soul balanced them out well — you were a complete polar opposite to them, and that’s what stood out to people at Faye Academy.

They were terrorizing, vicious females, standing with you — a loving, and free-spirited person who didn’t do much, and just kept to herself. Nobody understood or could comprehend it, but that didn't matter to them — you were the solace in their life.

You knew that they were still rough with people — mostly men — in high school, but you didn’t know you were the cause behind each act of violence that they performed. But it made sense, even as you built a timeline.

There was Teresa Doles; she had nitpicked at your appearance for weeks. When you had finally gone to Ellie and Abby about it, pictures of her partying, doing drugs, and medical records of her being in rehab had been leaked everywhere. Her family came from a prestigious lineage, and her reckless behavior put a great indent to it. She had to move to England.

Jonathan White had to be admitted to the hospital after an event for the school. Doctors said they found traces of drugs and poison in his system — which made you laugh because he said he would murder you for rejecting him for Junior prom. You recall him shouting at you, calling you a series of derogatory names, but paid no mind. Ellie and Abby weren’t happy when he told you such a thing.

Kayla Lynn was sent to the ER after her body had been found beaten and bloody in the bathroom. She was barely conscious, unrecognizable to those who found her — the doctors had to pull a tooth and fingerprints from her just to get an ID. You remembered how she bullied you for liking girls, calling you derogatory names, and even said she hoped you would be killed for it.

And you knew there just had to be more than those people. So many of your bullies either switched schools, dropped off the face of Earth, or were in physical therapy after you had told Abby and Ellie about what each of those people did to you.

You were too gullible and head over heels in love with the duo to know they were doing so much behind your back. You had been completely tuned in with love and the relationship, all you saw was them as your blessing.

They meant it when they said they would do anything for you.

“We handled it,” Ellie’s voice would play in your head from that morning. It would repeat itself like a broken record, never shutting up.

We handled it.

We murdered someone.

You didn’t know exactly why the murder scared you, or what provoked you to exactly take the shirt.

You were about to close your eyes until a knock tapped at your door. “Ma’am, it’s Carson,” he said, and you welcomed him in, sitting up on your bed.

You turned on the nightstand's lamp, and he gave you a small smile. “I found a way to submit the evidence without it being traced to you,” Carson said, and your heartbeat went still. “If only you’re wanting to give up the shirt, of course.”

“Well, that was quick,” you nervously laughed, staring down at your lap. “What’s the plan to turn it in?”

“I have trusted connections to the NYPD. Some officers work as guards like I do,” Carson reassured, and you hummed, chewing on your lower lip. “We can send the shirt to them as anonymous, and you won’t have to worry about the shipping coming back to you; it’ll be under my name.”

“Are you positive about that?”

“Absolutely, ma’am,” he said, and your body trembled, mind hazy. You knew it would be the moral thing to do; the guy harassed you, but Ellie and Abby could’ve done anything else besides murder.

The only murder you were aware of, of course.

These girls protected and defended you and your name. They would put the world on fire, yet never let a flame brush on your skin; they were the poisonous paradise you couldn’t see as Heaven or Hell.

You had to release them, though. You needed to grow up without them by your side, because you were more than them, and they were more than you.

And if the shirt didn’t get them anywhere, at least it was out of your grasp.

You got up from your bed, padding over to your suitcase and opened it up. You grabbed a brown paper bag, and held it close to your chest. “Please make sure I don’t get in trouble for this,” you said, pleading eyes looking into Carson’s soft ones.

He could tell you were beyond frightened. That you were just someone who didn’t mean to do this, that your kind heart thought you were doing something right.

You had absolutely nothing to do with this crime, but somehow, you looked ashamed and guilty as if you did. In a sense, you were — you called Abby about the guy, you knew very well what she was capable of. It was no secret how violent and cruel Abby and Ellie could be — physically or emotionally.

“You’re safe with me,” Carson promised, and you smiled small, hesitantly handing him the bag. “Are you sure about this?”

The bag was out of your hold, Carson grasping onto it. “They need to learn their lesson,” you said, all your logic and thoughts mixed up in your head, utterly brainless at this given rate. “And I just want them to stay out of my life for good.”

He just nodded, taking the bag with him as he exited the room, leaving you alone again.

You couldn’t sleep after that. You couldn’t even try to rest knowing you were going to ruin their lives, putting into consideration all they did for you.

But, you had just regained your freedom, discovered who you were without them. You were able to make friends without their eyes boring into your soul, you could live in peace.

You couldn’t accept anymore threats or violence, just so you could remain theirs forever. Because you knew if they truly loved you, they wouldn’t put you in harm's way.

You stared blankly at the ceiling, trapped in your mind when your phone had a sudden ring to it. Your heart stopped, and you froze, your body wanting to sink into the mattress.

You let your phone ring through, letting silence fall pass after the noise stopped.

Not even a minute ticked by as the phone rang again.

You reached for your device, answering the call and brought it up to your ear. “What?”

“So much attitude, little lamb. You’re going to hurt my feelings,” Ellie's voice came through, and you sighed, sitting up. “I’m starting to like this game. Because I know you’re fucking scared.”

You scoffed. “No I’m not. I’m just wanting you to leave me alone.”

“You can’t deal with the idea of what might happen if we catch you,” she began, and shivers cascaded on your body, holding in your breath. “You want to keep running, baby? I don’t mind the chase— it’s exhilarating.”

“You’re fucking sick.”

“You knew that, bunny,” Abby joined in, taking over the call. “Why are you acting so surprised? You fucking got off on how insane we got about you, don’t act clueless now.”

“I was naive,” you retorted. “I was manipulated and blinded by you two.”

“Manipulated? Big idea for you to get at,” she continued, and you heard Ellie’s cruel laugh in the background of the call. “You knew what you were doing when coming to us about your bullies. You knew what we all would get out of it.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you muttered.

“You liked us hurting you too, bunny,” she stated, and your breaths were becoming uneven. “Always in skimpy outfits, flirting with others to get our attention. We fucking saw through you. You’re just as sick as us.”

“Shut the fuck up, Abigail!”

“Using my full name? I’m so frightened,” Abby chuckled, amused and lightened by your poor intimidation act. “Got me shaking in my boots here, sweetheart.”

“I hope you die— both of you.”

“God forbid, right? Then who’ll take care of you?” Ellie returned into the conversation. “Not even that Delilah bitch could do it. Or Holly, Nicole, Emily, Zaya— no one.”

You fell quiet for a moment, your eyes widened in disbelief. “How do you know them?”

“Baby, we told you this,” Ellie reminded you, sighing. “If you were to leave us, we would get you again.”

You zipped your mouth, anxiety surging through you.

“Having fun at the Marmont?” Ellie asked, and you shot up from your bed. “Nice name you got— Emily Dickinson. Really… that name?”

“You’re fucking here?” You asked.

Ellie snickered. “Always in your corner.”

“I have people here, patrolling—“

“Oh, we get it, you fucking princess!” She yelled. “We know you have men, we aren’t idiots. For a valedictorian, you are sure fucking dense. You think you’re always one step ahead, but you aren’t.”

“Fuck you, Williams,” you sneered.

“See you real soon, lamb,” she said, and the call ended. You knew there was no point in trying to reach the number again, it was unknown and a useless line.

Ellie and Abby stood at the top of the hotel, Delilah beaten as cable ties strapped her wrists behind her back. “Alright, you bitch,” Abby picked up Delilah from the ground, adjusting the feeble girl on her feet.

“She’s…. she’ll hate you for this,” Delilah croaked out. “And no one will believe I’ve jumped to my death.” Her head was spinning, barely conscious enough to process what these two random, strange women wanted with her, or why they cared so much. She swore a second ago she was in her flat, sound asleep and relaxed, and now she was on top of the roof of the Chateau Marmont.

None of this made sense.

“We are going to share this little secret with you since you will be dying,” Ellie said, taking out a cigarette from her pocket. “You’re not the first person who has pleaded for their life, or thought their death wouldn’t be convincing. We do this all for her, and unfortunately, she does enjoy it.”

Delilah shook her head. “No, no. You don’t know her whatsoever.”

“She brought you here to your death, sweet Delilah,” Ellie continued on, puffing out a blow. “She knows that whoever tries to steal or touch her, will be either beaten or killed by us.”

“She wanted you dead,” Abby added, and Delilah broke into hysterical sobs. “And we do give our girl whatever she wants.”

Ellie cut off the cable ties, and Abby maneuvered the frail girl over to the ledge. “Anything else you need to say, honey?” Abby asked, and Delilah’s lips parted, prepared to speak. “I don’t give a shit,” the blonde said, pushing her off as her and Ellie watched attentively, grinning to themselves as Delilah’s body splat on the concrete, blood making a river around herself.

It wasn’t long until your guards were shouting, and there were sirens in the distance.

“Ma’am, there’s been an incident on the grounds,” Carson bursted into your room, and you swallowed thickly, your phone grasped in your hands.

You threw on a robe and your slippers, pushing your way through the men. “Let me go!” You shouted, Carson being the one to shove them off. “I need to see what happened outside!”

“It’s for your safety that you don’t!” One of the men, Jackson, protested, but Carson seized your arm, and tugged you outside by your bicep.

“We listen to her,” he reminded the group as they all followed you outside. You could hear a wave of voices and distress, police officers talking to one another. In your gut, you knew something wasn’t right, and you were overwhelmed with nausea.

The noise drew you closer to the entrance of the hotel, where a symphony of shouts were clattering, and police lights mixed into the moon’s gleam. A part of you told yourself to get back into your abode, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your feet tugged your forward, curiosity tingling in your body.

You shoved yourself through a heavy crowd, officers trying to get everyone to back away or stop filming what was happening.

“Excuse me!” You yelled, and pulled yourself further in.

You regretted listening to yourself for another time. Fiery and stressed voices shifted into echoes, banging off the earth’s walls, your eyes struck open by a corpse splashed on the pavement.

Your heart beated in your throat, vomit coating it, and knots twisted in your stomach.

Delilah.

Delilah was on the ground. In front of you.

Your brain didn’t dare register any part of the gory, morbid scene that was plastered in front of you. Blood pooled around her head, her scalp visibly cracked open and her eyes open. You swore she was staring at you, everything in you shaking and trembling with great fear.

“Ma’am, get back!” An officer shouted at you, taking you out of your trance. “Please, this is a crime scene!”

“I… I know her,” you stated, and Carson approached your side. “That’s my friend— her name is Delilah Morse.”

“Please sir, let us get through,” Carson chimed in, and the officer sighed, shaking his head. “This is someone she knows. Only she’ll give you details.”

The officer went to discuss with another official, and your hand buzzed. You flinched to it, not realizing you kept your phone in your hold.

You received a message from Unknown.

Unknown: Want to keep playing, baby?

Unknown: Look at you, so scared and sick. It’ll stop once you give up.

A tear from you covered the screen, and Carson had to push you out of your stare. “Ma’am, let’s go,” he said, and you had not realized the officer was holding up the caution tape to let you through.

You heard a female’s voice come to the side of you. “I’m Detective Anna Blake. What’s your name, and relationship to the victim, miss?”

You stated your name, your voice hush and shaky as you couldn’t look away from Delilah’s body.

“And your relationship?” Anna asked.

“We… I was her friend,” you answered. “What… what did she do?”

“It looks like an apparent suicide,” she responded, and that was enough for her to gain your full attention, a confused expression plastered on your face. “She dropped from the rooftop, and ate it right here.”

“That can’t be,” you shook your head. “Delilah wasn’t at all suicidal, or had any ideations. She was the most positive person I knew.”

“Yeah, but people have personas,” Anna stated, and you furrowed your brows. “She could’ve been acting for you, and everyone else.”

“She’s from London, Detective,” you said, and she stared at you appalled, but intrigued. “She wouldn’t kill herself here.”

Anna was quiet for a sparse second. “Huh… do you know something we don’t?”

Why couldn’t you just shut the fuck up?

There was an open entrance for the vehicles to come through, and for a moment, you swore you saw Ellie and Abby standing across the street.

You knew their silhouettes. And they were watching you, witnessing their crime.

You stared at them back, because now you accepted the truth that no matter where you ran off, that would be there. They would create mess and murder back to back until you gave up the running, and realized you only belonged to them.

Fear was a disease in you, and the only way to kill it was to face them.

Your mother wanted you back in New York. She gave you no choice but to attend the Gala with her and your father.

You tried your best to talk your way out of it, explaining that you had just witnessed your best friend’s corpse the previous evening.

Your mother said the Gala would be a great distraction. You tried to make any point or excuse to stay home, until your father had himself step into the argument. He tended to never insert himself into fights with you and your mom, but this time he felt the need to, and that’s when you were left with no choice.

Of course, your main concern was that Ellie and Abby were going to be there, and confronting them was going to be an inevitable situation. You had to prepare yourself the most as to what to say or do if they were to be in your eye radius.

“This dress is killing me,” you muttered, patting down the bottom part of the simple, yet elegant dress you wore. “And the corset of this is smashing my boobs.”

“Your dress is lovely, dear,” your mother assured, and you scowled. “You have always loved long dresses like this; so long at the bottom, we can’t even see your heels. And you always adored sleeveless corset tops on them, too!”

“You look perfect, honey. You wore this exact dress for junior prom,” your dad reminded, and you shivered to the memory of it. Abby and Ellie were your escort — of course — and everyone adored your dress, even making it into a page in Vogue because it was Vivienne Westwood.

“I just… I don’t want to see them,” you muttered, and the limousine came to a halt. “And it just doesn’t feel right being here, having fun and socializing, when my friend just fucking died.”

“Cherie, Delilah’s death was not your fault or anything,” your mother said, and you glared at her. “It is unfortunate it took place at the same time you were there, but she was just an unhappy girl.”

You didn’t want to converse with her anymore, only getting out of the car before any of them, and were immediately blinded by flashing lights. Your parents stood behind you, and you fixed up a promising smile, making your way into the gala.

The second cameras and screaming men were out of your way, you hunted down a busboy for a glass of champagne. “I will take that!” You grabbed the drink from the silver tray, thanking the man, and earned a groan from your parents.

“Can you at least greet people before you get wasted?” Your father asked, and you shrugged, letting him drag you over to the familiar faces of Jerry Anderson and Joel Miller. You hadn’t seen them since the few days before the murder.

“Ah, there she is!” Jerry exclaimed, and you exchanged a cheek kiss with him, and Joel. “We heard you moved to London. Oxford, right?”

“Yes. It’s been quite delightful,” you shortly shared. “I finished exams early, so I came back into town for the meantime.”

“And do you plan to catch up with the girls?” Joel asked.

You knew at that moment that no one quite understood what really took place that night, and you would never confess to it. They all blindly assumed that there was a great falling out in response to the murder of Brandon James, that you simply didn’t tolerate that behavior, and in some parts of that, it was true.

You had no place or reason to tell the whole truth, or to be honest, when there was an exact, appropriate place to share such a thing. Yet however, if you did, no one would believe you — there was no evidential proof or key to say that Ellie and Abby killed him.

They thought the girls were saints, who were being wronged by another higher power.

The actual case would have them dropping to the ground, and you couldn’t exactly say, “Abby and Ellie are sadistic killers who get off to the pain and torture.”

God fucking forbid, though.

“I’m not so sure,” you answered, taking a light sip of your champagne. “I want to keep to myself for the meantime, and make more goals for my future.”

“Well, if they came tonight, I’m sure it would’ve been lovely,” Jerry said, and you dryly laughed with them.

Champagne wasn’t enough to fill the hollow in you. You needed the strongest shit to exist at the bar.

You had a clear cue to let yourself leave their conversation, leaving you alone in the event. You went to the bar, and sat there, requesting a martini. You put your clutch purse in front of you, and sighed heavily, a migraine coming to your head.

You weren’t used to going to these high class functions by yourself — hell, you didn’t even go until the girls became a part of your life, and would be by your side at each and every one of them. It made your parents happy that they were there to tug you out of your shell, make you more extroverted.

A figure sat at the chair next to you, yet you didn’t pay any mind to it.

Until they said your name, and the voice was familiar.

Your eyes flickered to the side, and you saw Dina. Your eyes widened, your body directing toward her, and she smiled. “How have you been!” She cheered, pulling you into a hug, and you could only hug back. “You fell off the face of planet Earth!”

“Oh, yeah,” you broke the hug, facing her. “I… I decided to do school at Oxford. I just needed to get out of the city.”

“Oxford is nice,” she said, smiling small. “Jesse and I were worried about you. The girls said you had broken up with them.”

You gawked at her in disbelief as she went on to order herself a drink.

Who else was fucking clueless?

“Well, I guess,” you mumbled, your martini set down in front of you. “We just had issues we couldn’t resolve from the night before.”

“Oh shit, that sucks,” she sighed, shaking her head. “The breakup must have been terrible to have you move to London.”

Her glass of tequila on rocks came to her as she took a refreshing sip of it, and you were about to claw out your eyes. Either she had brain damage, was lying, or truly wasn’t aware of what occurred that night, but must have since it happened at Jesse’s club.

“Dina Woodward, be fucking serious with me,” you said, and she raised a brow. “You know what happened. That night.”

She blankly stared at you.

“That night… at your boyfriend’s club…”

Dina shrugged, and you were taken aback. “Jesse must know, then.”

“Ellie and Abby were accused of a serious crime,” she began, and you bitterly scoffed, “which they were found innocent to. They had to go through that trial alone, they went through Hell without you.”

“They killed him, Dina,” you told her, yet lowered your voice due to the gossip crowd that circulated. “You cannot seriously be defending them.”

“I’m not defending them,” Dina stated, and you rolled your eyes, downing your martini. “They have plenty of enemies, and you know that, too. Everyone wants to see them at their absolute worst, and do their own dirty work to make it happen.”

You got up from your seat, grabbing your purse. “It was nice seeing you, Dina.”

You shoved your way through the bustling crowd, and were stuck in the middle as soon as your phone began to buzz.

“Not this shit again,” you mumbled to yourself, and pulled out your phone, putting it up to your ear. “What the fuck can I do for you?”

“You look pretty, sweetheart,” Ellie said. “Don’t you worry, we aren’t in your vicinity.”

“Oh, I’m so fucking pleased to hear that,” you exasperated, rubbing your temple in frustration. “Then how do you know I’m here?”

“You’re right, my apologies,” Ellie laughed, and you heard rustling over the line.

“Bunny, we are going to play a game,” Abby came to the line, and your heart jumped rapidly. “We can see you, but we’ve made sure you can’t catch a glimpse of us.”

“What do you want?” You asked.

“You still don’t get it, darling. But that’s okay,” she took a hast pause, collecting her thoughts. “We told you many times that if you were to run, we would catch you, because you are ours. You can hide, change your name, go to different universities, but we will always be there.”

You swallowed thickly, knowing you were getting stares to your frightened look on your face.

“Your parents don’t give a shit about you, they only kept you away so their image wouldn’t be ruined,” she said, and you knew that was more than true; your parents would do anything to remain prestigious and clean, and you were the taint in their life. “You said you kept that shirt to return the favor, but there’s more than that.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about, Anderson,” you scoffed, and she hummed. “I gave that shirt away; you and Ellie are going to prison for good.”

“We’ll see about that, bunny,” she said, and the line went flat. You rushed yourself to the ladies room, nausea building in you as the room spun, and your nerves weakened your muscles. Laughter and shouts from strangers rang in your ears as you dragged yourself further to the bathroom, and the sickening gut feeling came back to you.

You couldn’t pull apart if you were truly just sick to your stomach, or your intuition was stronger than ever.

You pushed the door open to the ladies room, and to your luck, it was completely empty. You lunged yourself into a stall, and collapsed down on your knees, yucking it up into the toilet. Your anxiety and worry got the best of you, making you a mess so easily, and you were embarrassed by it.

You stood up after a few minutes, taking in slow, steady breaths, and gathered yourself, standing back up. You moved over to the sink, and settled your purse down, opening it up to grab your lipstick. You rinsed out your mouth with the faucet water, and sighed heavily, turning off the sink.

You reapplied your scarlet red lipstick, and put the item back into your purse, along with your phone.

Then a click was made from the side of you, gaining your attention.

The nausea came back, but not in a wave, yet in a violent crash. You swore your heart stopped for a moment, but could hear it violently beat in your eardrums while bile stung inside your throat, threatening to come out again.

Your body trembled, knees about to bring you down, and all you wanted to do was die at this very moment.

“Hey, little lamb,” Ellie said, grinning in pride. Your body pressed back against the sink’s counter, and tears approached over your eyes as you stared at her. “What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”

“No… no,” you said, able to take yourself to the bathroom’s entrance. You opened it, only to be met with Abby instead, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “You are both not here.”

“Oh, but we are,” Abby said, moving forward in sync to your steps going backwards. She maintained a fairly safe distance, but one close enough to grab you if you tried to run. “Why so surprised, bunny? We promised this.”

Something about them was gravely different this time. There was a darker energy to them, a sense of evil and anger heating off of them as they stared at you down in the way the predator does when they have finally cornered their prey.

Yes, they got you, and you had no way out anymore — what a fucking terrifying and cruel revalation.

The cat got their little mouse, right by the tail.

You had fallen right into their trap perfectly, in all the ways they wanted you to. It took great cunning patience and practice to get you in this position, to have you trapped.

You were beyond scared; this was the reoccurring nightmare you dreamt of since the night you left. You always tried to consider or plan out what you would do if they were to approach you in any way, but you never paid mind to how methodical and intelligent they were.

You doubted their skills and abilities, and you were dumb to think they wouldn’t get you any time soon, that you would be free from them for a few more months, maybe a year or two – maybe even a lifetime — you wished and prayed upon it.

You were stuck now. The cat and mouse game came to their precise ending.

“Are you going to kill me now?” You asked, and they hummed, shrugging to themselves.

“Well, if we wanted that, we would have done it back in LA,” Abby said, and your eyes averted back and forth between them, trying to see if there was a possible way out. “Or back in London, who knows. We had so many open opportunities to kidnap you, but we liked this little game.”

“Is that what you’re planning to do now? Kidnap me?” You asked, snickering dryly. “Keep me hostage forever? Wouldn’t be anything new to me.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it,” Ellie told you, tilting her head to the side. “You liked this claim we have on you. You will never admit it and that’s okay, because we know it, baby.”

“Now let’s not be so rude,” Abby said, and you glanced at her. “Let’s say bye to our guests, and go back home, little bunny.”

Ellie and Abby had seemed to have enough time to decorate the penthouse. To your last memory of it, only the shared bedroom was furnished, and now, they had everything perfectly perched in precise spots.

You sat in the living room, on the black velvet couch as you stared out the window with a mindfulness of thoughts. The city was bustling, sirens louder than ever, and traffic stacked up. You tried to concentrate on the noise outside because it would be last time you would hear it.

The pair had finished fixing themselves up a drink, returning to the room, and sat across from you. You didn’t pay attention to them, fits of rage and terror consuming you inside. You don’t know why you thought you would actually escape them, and you had only dug yourself in a deep grave.

The familiar silence moved through the home, and you could feel their eyes spiking into you, waiting for you to say something. You had more than to say and ask, but you didn’t know where exactly to start, or if you were allowed to question certain things.

“You killed Delilah,” you blurted out, your eyes averting from the window. “You killed Brandon James, and many others, I assume.”

“We have,” Ellie answered, drinking her bourbon.

“I don’t get why. Why do you kill people? How do you even get away with it?” You asked, and Abby glanced over at Ellie, communicating to each other through their eyes. “Are you in like a fucking cartel or some shit?”

“Joel didn’t have an easy time getting to where he is,” Ellie began, setting her glass down, and slouched back on the couch. “He has some connections, and so does Jerry. It’s hard to get into it all, but they were doing illegal shit on the side to get money, build their legacies.”

“We didn’t kill until you,” Abby said, and you raised a brow, positioning your body in their direction. They could tell you were now intrigued, and you were; you were more than curious. “It was two months into knowing you, and you told us about Rachel Wayne. Remember her?”

“Of course I do. That bitch bullied me like it was her life’s purpose,” you lightly joked, and she sighed. “Why?”

“It was the day when she beat you in the girl’s bathroom, ramming your face into the blow dryer all because you got a higher score on your SAT,” Abby said, and you hissed at the memory. You were a good fighter, but Rachel’s envy possessed her strength that day, and she kicked you around like an animal in the bathroom.

She locked the door, keeping her friends, you, and herself locked in, while they recorded the whole moment. You went home with a concussion, a busted face, and cried to the girls about it.

“We were so fucking pissed,” Ellie said, scoffing to herself. “We knew Rachel well. We invited her over to my place, and made small talk, getting the information out of her about what occurred. We got names, and everything.”

You remained quiet, but stayed tuned in and fully focused.

“We got her high off cocaine, and once she was zoned out, we beat the fuck out of her,” she explained, and your heart thumped against your chest, about to pop out. “She was crying, and screaming; but it made us think of how that was you previously because of her. Our anger overrode us to the edge, and we started cracking her body in. We didn’t know we had killed her until she was completely fucking limp.”

“Those who had the video were dealt with too,” Abby assured. “If they refused to delete it, we made sure their lives would be ruined, their parents would be left with nothing. We knew how to obliterate these spoiled fucks.”

“Are you serious?” You asked. It was rumored that Rachel ran away to her boyfriend in Spain, and refused to come back because her parents were assholes to her, and just a straight disappointment to them. “How did you clean up your tracks?”

“Well, I called Joel in a panic, and told him everything,” Ellie answered, finishing her drink. “Joel told Abby and I to get ourselves cleaned up, and these men came over like an hour later, picking up after us.”

“They wiped our phones and tracks completely,” Abby said, and slid you forward her glass of whiskey. “And then we did it again, and Joel quickly realized we were doing it for you. He saw that you were our purpose, so he let us use his connections, and everything.”

“He was worried everything was going to collapse the second the cops came about Brandon,” Ellie recalled, and took out a fresh cigarette. “That was a mess we had to fix, of course. Like, I’d never seen Joel so pissed off before, it was insane.”

“How did you get away with the murder?” You questioned.

“Easy shit,” Abby laughed, shrugging. “He had himself in rough, bad business. We basically found someone who he owed money to, planted all the evidence and shit on that dude.”

“Now that motherfucker is serving life,” Ellie lit up the stick, inhaling sharply. “We made sure it wouldn’t come back to us.”

“But the shirt,” you reminded them, and they stared at you for a moment before aweing at your little tactic. “The shirt is with the cops.”

“Is it, though?” Abby teased, and a faint ding of the penthouse elevator chimed, footsteps approaching into the living room. “Right on time, too! God, I fucking love dramatics.”

Your eyes shifted to the noise, a broad and muscular figure walking to everyone; and you swore it was the night you were going to go into shock, or have an aneurysm.

Carson stood before you with the shirt in a clear zipped bag, and Abby stood up. “Thank you so much,” she grinned, and Ellie shook his head. “Your money has been transferred to your offshore account.”

“What the fuck?” You blurted, Carson directing his eyes towards you. “You knew?”

“I’m the one who’s been cleaning up their messes,” he admitted, and Abby opened up the bag, taking out the shirt. “It didn’t take much to convince your parents to hire me. I just needed a believable resume.”

You shot up from the couch, staring him down. “You told them where I was at, and everything! You are a fucking narc!”

“I didn’t have to tell them anything,” Carson dryly chuckled, amused by your terrified expression. “They were able to do that all on their own; I just gave them the starting point, and left it at that.”

You smacked him, the skin contact echoing in the home. He only laughed, finding you childish and weak, and shrugged. “I’ll have you fucking killed!”

“Loved to see you try,” he said, and took his exit, waving to the pair. You stared at where he was in utter shock, widely appalled with slight betrayal hitting your heart. You had trusted Carson wholeheartedly, felt secure and safe with him, and it all was a blinding lie.

Ellie started up the fireplace, and your eyes flickered to the ghostly fire. “No, no!” You shouted, trying to seize the shirt from Abby, but the auburn haired girl entrapped you in her hold, forcing you to watch the shirt to be burned.

“You know, I hope you start to learn tonight,” Abby tossed the shirt into the fire, and you wailed, thrashing in Ellie’s arms, yet it was pointless; in every way, they would always be stronger, you being a weakling.

The shirt crinkled and disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Ellie let go of you, and you glared at her. “We aren’t done talking,” she settled you back on the couch, and Abby brought a glass of chardonnay to you. “Now we want our answers.”

“I’ll fuck you up!” You spat, and they tried not to laugh. “What else shit do you have to say?”

“What did you expect to happen when you came to us about your bullies?” Abby asked, genuine and engrossed. “Did you think we would just have chit chats?”

You took a second to yourself, and you stared down at your lap, fidgeting at your dress. Before Abby and Ellie came into your life for good, they were notorious at the academy, and held that title with such pride. You knew what they were capable of, what they could do, and you saw them as your defenders from everything.

Did a part of you know what you were doing? Yes, but not that it would lead them to murder. You never understood or knew why they were so fixated on you, even before they decided to lure you into their lives. They had been riveted by you, and there was not a clear indication as to why, but you used it to your full advantage.

Your parents didn’t care about you, and they knew that. All three of you played a dangerous, deadly role in the relationship; it was volatile and brutal, but it was all you had, and they were all you wanted.

You spent so much time running and hiding from them, you never took a particular moment to realize your role in everything. You took that shirt because it was a part of you; you had Brandon killed, he was a deadman the second you called Abby about him.

You were just as guilty as them, you were just as part of their games and murder.

No one else was going to do this for you, nobody would burn and tear apart the Earth just to have you in their grasp again.

“There’s our girl,” Abby cooed, and you looked up at them, tears in your eyes. “You finally understand. After these years, now it has come to you.”

“You gave us the cards, we just played them the way you liked,” Ellie said, and you downed the chardonnay, exhaling shakily as you set it down. “We knew you were too much like us, we couldn’t deny you anymore. We had to have you.”

“Every time you said we handled it,” you sucked in a hard, jagged breath, “was that code for ‘we killed someone”?”

“What else would it mean, princess?” She mused, burning her cigarette out alas in the ashtray on the coffee table.

A silence slowly creeped into the room, crinkling of the fire and outside traffic filling it as it lasted what felt like moments.

“You know the first time we say you — God, we just knew we had to have you,” Abby spoke, and your eyes trained focused on them. “You hypnotized us by simply existing, by being in our vicinity. It was like we were blessed to come across one of God’s angels.”

You were always sure that they were attracted to you because you simply co-existed within their class status, and because they knew you were the only girl at Faye Academy that wasn’t corrupted or tainted. You were like this fresh breath for them to use — and you still thought like that after everything they had done for you, and even prove that they did love you beyond your body.

“Why me?” You asked.

“We don’t know what you did to simply draw us in, but we couldn’t resist. Every time I saw you in class, in your nicely ironed pleated skirt, in your dark blue polo sweater… your makeup done so pretty…” Ellie reminisced, a crude grin playing onto her lips as she recalled the first moment she laid eyes on you. “You were so pure, so perfect for us. It was no longer about wanting you, it was about needing you — we had to; everyday that passed by where you weren’t in our grasp, we could almost die from it.”

“You will never truly know how much you have us at our knees for you, sweetheart, and that’s okay,” Abby said, and you sucked in a sharp breath, not knowing you had been barely breathing the entire time they spoke about you. “But understand the risks we would go through for you; we live and breathe you. We crave and yearn for you, despite the fact you are already ours. What is our purpose if you simply don’t exist in our lives?”

There was not much you could say to that, only able to break down. They sat up from the couch, and Ellie reached her hand out for yours, softly looking at you.

“Let’s go upstairs, baby,” she gently spoke to you, and peered up, hesitantly interlocking your fingers with hers. She walked you with her, Abby trailing close behind as an easy quietude settled in place, though your sniffles were the only thing to be heard.

Walking into the bedroom, you were momentarily paralyzed by the memory of your last moment in it. You were on that same bed when you put all the pieces together, and had left them with no letter or anything; you took your absence, and that was that.

Ellie guided you over to the wall mirror, her and Abby brushing up close on your back, the two attentively admiring you. “We would do anything for you, sweet girl,” Abby said, and your sobs slowly came to a halt. “We’ll always happily be your executioner, for the rest of our lives.”

“You’re our girl,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “But I think you need a fresh reminder of what you put us through.” Her hand hid behind her for a moment, grabbing something from the back of her jeans. A gun came into your vision, and your breath hitched, but she kept it by her side.

Your neck was met with Abby’s soft lips, her warm breath fanning against your skin, and her fingers loosened the strings of the corset. You softly moaned, Ellie fixated on the sight of you easily falling apart to Abby’s kissing, and grinned to herself. “Doesn’t take much to have you under us,” she said, and you eyed her, nodding.

The dress was undone, and easily dropped off your body, the duo getting the view they had longed for all this time. You were bare and exposed, only in underwear, and a primal urge had shadowed over them, wanting to ruin you without any thought.

“Oh, bunny,” Abby whispered. “Just as perfect as we remembered.”

Her lips separated from your marked neck, and you whimpered as Ellie pressed her gun to your abdomen. “What a sweet sight that I will never get tired of,” she mumbled, kissing your cheek. “Seeing you fucking petrified as if we will kill you at any moment.”

“But you won’t,” you retorted. “Right?”

“No,” she promised as the gun was slowly dragged to your temple, and she clicked the trigger, only for the barrel to be empty. You flinched to the trigger, your heart racing. “But we will hurt you, I can assure you that, little lamb.”

She used the gun to steer you to the foot of the bed. “On your fucking knees,” Abby demanded, and you collapsed to them, your knees thudding against the cold, hard granite tiles. “Anytime you stop, we use this gun, and you can find out yourself if the barrel is cleaned out.”

“Yes, mommy,” you muttered, and they amusingly hummed. Ellie kept the gun in position, using one hand to unbuckle her belt, and strip off her jeans as Abby did the same. It was a rare thing for them to have their straps under their pants, only if they knew they would have to handle you at any given moment, and this was one of them. You were going to come crawling back, and they were prepared for it, to claim and destroy you all in one.

“Mama gets to have you first,” Ellie said, and you parted your mouth open, Abby’s stuffing your mouth full with her cock, careless to your gagging. She had her way with you, her hand holding the top of your head as she thrusted herself into your mouth, trying your best to not pull back and gasp for air. The gun was there to keep you place, and you couldn’t ignore how it pressed deeply into the side of your head.

“That’s right, baby. Fuckin’ whore,” Abby said, and you tried to best out of your nose, desperate for more air. You used whatever strength you had, forcing your head back, and engulfed amounts of oxygen into your lungs. “What the fuck did we say?”

The trigger was pressed, and your ears rang with it. Empty, again.

“You’ve been away too long, princess,” Ellie said, and Abby retrieved your head, your mouth filled with the silicone object again. “Was too busy fucking other girls, huh? I bet they couldn’t make you like this; I can see you fucking dripping through your panties.”

Your arousal was a wildfire in you, spreading through your stomach, and down into your thighs. You could feel the mess you were making, seemingly ashamed and embarrassed how you got wet from their threats, with a gun pointed to you that was possibly clipped.

“There she is, now you are being good,” Abby praised, her thumb pressing away the tears that fell on your apple cheeks. “Always doing your best for us, hm? Knew you missed us too, baby.”

Ellie crouched down to your level, the gun lined up under your head as her grin turned into a twisted smirk. “All that we did for you, little one,” she mocked a frown, sighing. “And you just ran away like that? Coming home to find you gone, and betraying us?”

You were lightheaded and dizzy, your mind hazy, yet tried to stay focused. Your moans and whimpers gargled in your throat, drool running out of the corners of your mouth, and falling down onto your breasts.

“You belong to us, and you better start getting that through your fucking skull,” Ellie seethed, her bitter fury coating her mind. “You are only hurting yourself by doing the shit you do. A fucking brat you are.”

Abby decided to give up on you, your mouth hollow and free. She grabbed you by your throat, a sinister shade lingering in her eyes, and air whistled through her teeth. “Little bunny, you have no clue what you’ve done to yourself.”

You were put in the middle of the bed, and Ellie looked at her gun. “Let’s see if she can still take us,” she said, and Abby hummed, nodding. Ellie adjusted herself in between your legs, shoving them open, and stripped off your underwear, moaning at the sight of your cunt. “Fucking hell. She’s fucking soaking, babe.”

Abby had bunched ropes in her hand, kneeling into the bed, and stared at your cunt. “What a sick bitch you are, bunny,” she teased, running a finger down your slick folds, and you whined. “All of this from a gun, Ellie. She fucking loves it.”

Nothing else was said as Abby grasped onto your legs, and pushed your legs up against your chest. Her hands gripped on your wrists, having you hug the underneath of your legs, and made sure you kept yourself locked in the placement.

Ellie tied your wrists together, tight enough to not cut off any blood supply, and then went on to your ankles, knotting them in one. She used another string of rope to connect your ankles to your wrists, making your position trapped and stuck.

“We don’t want to hear you enjoying this,” Ellie said, and gave the gun over to Abby as the blonde sat herself in front of you. Ellie took off her strap, letting it drop to the ground, and took off her underwear, only to move herself over your face. She carefully lowered herself down on, and her aching cunt met your mouth as you obediently sucked and ran your tongue on it.

Abby slowly slipped the gun into you, yet you were soaked enough to let it easily be fucked into you. She pressed down onto your stomach as she rammed the cold weapon into your pussy, and you tried to muzzle your needy noises, tending to Ellie’s needs.

The auburn girl rutted herself against your mouth, eliciting shaky moans and cursed under her breath. “Yeah, just like that, sweetheart,” she muttered, looking over at Abby while she continued to fist the gun into you.

You lathered Ellie’s slick on your tongue, pleased how it dripped over your lips as you moaned to the sweet taste of her. If your wrists weren’t restrained, you would keep your arms around her thighs just to eat her out for hours on end.

Abby and Ellie were intensely dominant, it was unwonted when you gave them pleasure. They were refusing about it, saying that you were the one who needed to be desired and tended to whenever you wanted to be.

You couldn’t tell if you were immensely desperate or if the gun was fucking you so well, that you were already at the peak of your climax. You denied your orgasm, needing to get Ellie to hers, and harshly ate her out, fucking her hole with your tongue, sending her into a moaning, pleading mess for you.

“Oh shit, sweetheart— yeah, keep going,” she softly moaned. “Being such a good girl for daddy, gonna make sure to cum in your pretty mouth.”

“She’s making a mess on your gun and sheets,” Abby said, and for a moment, your cunt was not filled until she pushed her cock into you. “There we fuckin’ go, this is exactly what she needs.”

Ellie craned her body near Abby, the two kissing each other in a sloppy manner as the blonde roughly fucked into you. Abby kept her close as Ellie’s jagged moans and whines breathed into her mouth, doing all she could to keep herself up and close.

“You going to cum, baby, hm?” Abby asked, and Ellie moaned against her lips, nodding. “Go on, cum for us. You can do it.”

Ellie’s orgasm came crashing down as she squirmed and cried out, twitching on your mouth. Ellie pushed herself up, kneeling beside your head and leaned down to kiss you, both of you moaning at the taste of her. You sucked on each other’s tongues, Ellie slipping her hand down your stomach, and made way in between your thighs, rubbing your cunt.

She broke apart the kiss, her free hand gripping onto your jaw to make forced eye contact, and spat into your mouth. “Make us proud, baby. Want you to give daddy a good one,” she whispered, and you kept your eyes trained into hers as Abby pounded herself deeper into you, the squelching noises of your slick mixing in with your whimpers and throaty moans.

“So fucking tight, never gonna get enough of this perfect pussy,” Abby breathed, her hands squeezing the back of your thighs. “Made just for us, sweet girl. Everything about you was made for us to worship and ruin.”

“No one fucked you like this back in London, huh?” Ellie asked, and you shook your head. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. Probably had to get off all by yourself while you thought of us, too.”

“Just… just thought of you two the entire time,” you confessed, brows knitted together. “I need you so bad, ‘m sorry.”

“We’re here, baby,” she said, kissing the side of your head. “Next time you try to escape, you’ll absolutely fucking regret it. Got that?”

You nodded, and a warm sensation kindled in the pits of your stomach, knowing the familiar feeling. You squirmed, and Abby glanced over at Ellie. “If she doesn’t understand, we’ll just beat it into her,” she said, making it a sincere promise, and a chaste kiss was made to your forehead. “I would hate to do that, but it might just happen.”

Your approaching orgasm made it too troubling to know if they would harm you in such a way, but you were at the point that you couldn’t put it past them.

“Cum for mommy,” Abby insisted, and you moaned, your hips jittering as your climax broke out of you, broken moans escaping from you. “That was fucking nothing, you crybaby.”

The cum from her strap leaked with yours, dripping out of your hole, and making a puddle in the bedsheets. She unknotted the ropes, tossing them to the ground shortly after, and massaged your wrists.

You laid there for a second before bursting out in a fit of laughter, the two confused by it.

“What?” Ellie bluntly asked.

“Surprised you even let me cum,” you said, laughing a little more. “Usually you have me work for it.”

Abby and Ellie looked at each other before their eyes went back to you as they puckered their lips in thought nodding to themselves. Ellie picked you up from the bed, and brought a violent backhand slap to your cheek, halting your laughter altogether.

“You want to keep fucking laughing!” She yelled, giving you another one. “You are even fucking lucky we are touching you. We could have had you strapped to a vibrator for hours, and hit you every time you tried to cum.” Your lightness turned into sobs, and you stared at her through glossy vision, your pout shaking on your lips. They had simply run over their limit and patience with you, and you no longer doubted the sadism they would lay on you.

Abby just stood by, soaking in your tears and how easy it was to crack you. It was enough for the both of them to get off. She took you from Ellie, putting your arms behind your back as her chest brushed up against it, and Ellie took off her shirt, harnessing back on her strap.

God, I know you hate me, you thought to yourself. But please, have mercy on me.

Abby spat down your ass, using the saliva as lubrication, and dipped you down onto her strap, your ass hole brutally being stretched open. She kept you steady and positioned right for Ellie, who was not far behind as she shoved her cock into you.

“Ride us, bitch,” Abby said, and you obliged, hissing under your breath. The pain lasted longer than you thought, tears flooding into your ears while their size brutalized your cunt. “Such a sensitive cry baby. So easy for us to break you.”

Your head fell back on her shoulder, looking up at her. “Please, mama. ‘M sorry, I’ll be so good for you.”

Ellie grabbed your jaw, a violent smack struck against your cheek. “You enjoy lying to us, all the fuckin’ time. We should’ve disposed of you a while ago, see how you would’ve done without us.”

“What a pity that would be,” Abby taunted, laughing breathily in your laugh. As they found humor at the thought of you being a lost lamb without them, you were ripping at the seams as you went on to ride them at a gentle pace for you, the discomfort shifting into grand pleasure. “I would like to see that. Maybe next time we will leave, have you feel what we did.”

“No no!” You cried, shaking your head, and broke into hysterical sobs. “Didn’t mean to go, swear I didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Ellie jested, that eerie smirk of hers resting on her lips. “Because who will put up with you? Make you feel like this? Give into your fucking sick desires?”

“That’s why you’re perfect for us,” Abby noted, her hand creeping up to your neck, and viciously gripped on your throat. “Just as twisted and fucked in the head as us, more than you’d care to admit. No one will want or need you the way we do.”

You refused to deny them that. They were what you craved, they were the epitome of your lust and dreams, everything you yearned for, and were the helping hand to expose who you were to yourself. You would’ve done the same as them if they tried to leave; you would fucking slaughter those who they cared for just to have them again.

A match made in the ninth circle of Hell.

Your next high came to you, making it easily known as your noises got high pitched, making it an indicator. “Let me cum, please,” you pleaded, sobbing. “Want to cum, I need to— I’ll do anything you want.”

“We like you this way, stupid whore,” Abby said, and made the gun useful again, pointing it to your ribcage. “You cum, I pull the trigger.”

You body tensed, and you nodded, trying to ignore your unbearable high as it was becoming raw ecstasy to you. Your thighs trembled, about to give up on you, and you looked at Ellie through wettened eyelashes, your face drenched with tears and sweat.

The bedroom was rare filth, you could smell sin and vices burning through it. Your life was in their hands in every literal sense, but you wouldn’t have it any other way; you would rather die than not have them, and if that meant they would have to kill you themselves, you would let them. You were utterly nothing without them, and they knew it, too.

You had all the fucking wealth and privilege in the world to be someone, but you couldn’t be if they weren’t there on your side. You were them, and they were you. Your souls were eternally intertwined, and no matter where you went, you would always come back to them because they were it. They were all you sought out for.

Despite their desecration and souls being planted from Hell, they were Heaven and all things bliss.

You needed them. You would always need them.

You were winded out of your head as your orgasm stung inside of you, crying to be freed. You sobbed with it, shaking your head, but had to consider the gun that was indented into your skin. You had not known how much was passing when holding in your cum, but you couldn’t take it, and it was easily making you fall apart.

“Mommy, please!” You cried, blubbering in your tears. “I have to— ahh, please! I can’t do it, I can’t!”

“Yes you can, and you will, you fucking whore,” Ellie argued. “Unless you want to find out if the next shot has a bullet in it.”

You shook your head, and continued to break into sobs, your orgasm threatening to be released at the edge of you. It was becoming too much, your vision was blurring, and your heart was overwhelmed, almost frightened you would have a heart attack of some sort.

Ellie and Abby gave in, violently and recklessly pounding into you, putting your riding to a complete stop. You placed your hands on Ellie’s shoulders for support, Abby’s nails clawing into your throat as she continued to hold onto it for leverage while she maintained to hold you at gunpoint.

Utter euphoria rode over you, your eyes rolling to the inside of your head, and your back perfectly arched, crying out for the both of them. Your nails scratched at Ellie’s skin, your eyes getting a hast look at her fucking your cunt. Your noises and voice grated like rust at the back of your throat, breaths shuddering in your ribcage.

“You want to fucking cum, bunny?” Abby breathily asked. “Cry for it more if you really want it, sweetheart.”

“Mama, please!” You sobbed loudly, your mewls and cries faltering in your cries. “Want to be full of you, need to be bred by you two, please. Make me a pretty mommy for you, keep me trapped with you.”

They fucking lost it on you, ferociously driving themselves deeper into your wet, abused holes, and were coming to their own high. “Yeah, baby? Want daddy to fuck a baby into you?” Ellie cooed, a faux pout dangling on her lips. “Then you wouldn’t have anywhere to go.”

You nodded, on the brink of being braindead. “Yes, yes! I wanna be leaking of you. Wan’ mama and daddy to breed me so badly, please!”

You were an incoherent babbling mess, your voice raw and rough as you cried with your noises of gratification. They easily had you at the tip, and were ready to push you all the way down, keep you sobbing.

“Fucking cum for us, fuck!” Abby demanded, dropping the gun, and let go of your throat. She laid her hands on your torso, her nails scraping against your skin, and you hissed to it. Wanton moans and whimpers echoed throughout the room, and a second hadn’t passed when your climax ran out of you, riding it out as the girls went on to fuck you.

You let them use you like a fucktoy until they had come to their own orgasm, stuffing their cum into you as a symphony of curses sputtered from their lips. All movements came to a stop, bodies trembling and sticky.

You had to internally keep yourself conscious, but it was seeming impossible. You collapsed onto the bed the moment you were unfilled with their cocks, letting them handle themselves before you.

You could feel a warm, wet rag running over your legs, and you stared up at the ceiling, your eyes lazily blinking. “We need to clean you up, sweetheart. C’mon,” Ellie said, and picked you up, carrying you into the bathroom.

The three of you shared a warm bath, sitting in the middle of them as they cleaned you up nice and well, being sure to be gentle to touch you. You had missed the sweet scent of them, or how their violent hands could be so kind to your body, chaste kisses being pressed on your spine and forehead here and there.

It took you a few years for you to figure out your purpose with them, and all that they did for you. It was more than enough. To many, it would seem insane of your justifications and reasonings to why they did what they did for you, but no one else's opinion mattered in the fact. They worshiped you, they devoted every inch and breath of themselves to your protection and well being.

This is all you wanted. You and them forever the rest of your life. If carnage and bloodshed had to present, then so be it; because as long as you had them there by you, it was okay.

It was going to be okay forever.

2K notes · View notes

wvyik · 27 days ago

Text

sam’s shy gf headcanons. s.w. ₊˚⊹⋆

sam winchester x fem! reader

ᰔ summary: general shy dating hc again!! spoiler; sam is the softest, most patient boyfriend ever. he understands your awkwardness, your shyness, your nervousness—all of it—and he loves you for it.

⤿ warnings: lots of cuteness, emotional moments/support, comfort!! soft boy affection overload, sam being the gentlest giant to ever giant, safe relationship energy that might make you cry, pre-established relationship.

⤿ notes: on the request of the sweet @everythingisaspectrum!! sorry this took so long (╥﹏╥) for anyone worried on the taglist who signed on just for dean, just hit me up and ill make sure to not tag you on any other characters. plus the taglist got an update!!

HE DOES GROCERY SHOPPING IF YOU’RE TOO STRESSED.. But not in a ‘ugh, fine I’ll go’ way. No, this man is walking out the door with a list you scribbled and texting you stuff like “Do you want the strawberry yogurt or the peach? I forgot which one’s your favorite :(“

HAND-HOLDING IS HIS FAVORITE THING EVER.. He knows you’re shy about PDA, so he never forces it, but when you do reach for his hand? Oh, he cherishes it. He’ll squeeze your fingers gently, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, completely focused on you.

LOVES HEARING YOU TALK ABOUT THE THINGS YOU LOVE.. Even if you’re shy, when you finally start opening up about something you’re passionate about? Sam is so happy. He’ll listen intently, nodding along, asking questions— just completely mesmerized by how cute you look when you get excited.

SAM READS TO YOU.. Like actually, out loud. You’re laying in bed, curled up under a blanket, and he’s got a book in one hand, your hand in the other. He has the most soothing voice ever and every few lines he’ll glance over at you with the softest smile like, “Still with me, sweetheart?”

LOVES IT WHEN YOU GET SLEEPY AND CLINGY.. If you ever get too tired to keep up your usual shyness and just snuggle into him, Sam is in heaven. He’ll wrap you up in his arms, stroking your hair, whispering, “You can fall asleep, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

HE KEEPS A LITTLE MENTAL LIST OF THINGS THAT MAKE YOU ANXIOUS.. Crowds, loud places, random new people — he notices and makes plans around it. If you’re ever somewhere you don’t like, he’ll quietly lean over and whisper, “Want to head out, babe?” And if you nod? He’s already guiding you out like a prince in plaid.

HE LEGIT BRAGS ABOUT YOU IN PRIVATE.. Like, if he’s talking to Dean or someone he trusts, he gets this dreamy little smile and is like, “She’s shy, yeah… but she’s got the biggest heart. Smartest girl I’ve ever met.” He’s so down BAD.

WHEN YOU’RE OVERWHELMED, HE GIVES YOU HIS HOODIE.. And i mean, immediately. You’re not even asking, he just sees you getting overwhelmed and wordlessly tugs it off, wraps it around you, and kisses your hair. Now you smell like him and feel safe.

SAM IS OBSESSED WITH YOUR VOICE WHEN YOU TALK JUST TO HIM.. You might be quiet around others, but when it’s just the two of you? When you’re cuddling and whispering things only he gets to hear? He treasures it. He’ll literally say, “I love your voice. It’s like… peaceful.”

HE NOTICES EVERY TINY CHANGE IN YOUR MOOD.. You don’t even have to say anything; he can just tell. He’ll come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, rest his chin on your shoulder and softly ask, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

HE HAS A BABY VOICE, JUST FOR YOU.. Not like silly-baby talk, but that extra soft, affectionate tone that only comes out when he’s holding you close or waking you up in the morning. “C’mon, sweetheart… time to get up. I made your tea.” Like PLEASE he’s your emotional support giant.

HE’S SO GENTLE WHEN YOU’RE UPSET.. If something’s bothering you, he’ll never push you to talk, but he’ll always make sure you know he’s there. He’ll rub slow circles on your back, murmur soothing words, and just be there until you’re ready to open up.

SAM LOVES WHEN YOU PLAY WITH HIS HAIR.. You’re shy about touching him, but the first time you nervously threaded your fingers through his hair? Sam melted. He closed his eyes, leaned into your touch, and let out the softest sigh. Now he begs for it. “C’mere, baby. Just for a minute.”

YOU HAVE A SAFE WORD FOR SOCIAL EXITS.. Sam came up with it. Like if you’re somewhere that’s draining you, all you have to do is say the word (maybe something dumb and cute like ‘moose tracks’) and he’ll immediately get you out, no questions.

HE WRITES YOU NOTES.. Like little sticky notes with stuff like “Drink water today, babe <3” or “I miss you, even if you’re just in the next room” and sticks them where you’ll find them. Your journal, your laptop, the fridge, your pillow, everywhere.

HE FINDS YOUR AWKWARDNESS SO HOT.. Like when you try to be flirty but your voice shakes? Or you avoid eye contact after saying something bold? Sam is grinning so hard. He’ll bite his lip and softly say, “That was really cute. Keep going.” and you’re immediately done for.

IF YOU CRY, HE’S IN FULL ON SOFT MODE.. No panic, no ‘don’t cry’ BS. He just holds you close, rocks you gently, and says stuff like, “Let it out, sweetheart. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Literal human comfort blanket.

HE NEEDS A KISS BEFORE BED.. Even if it’s just a shy little peck. And if you’re being all bashful and hiding your face under the covers? He’ll laugh softly and coax you out with kisses to your hands. “Don’t hide that pretty face, baby.”

HE BUYS YOU BOOKS THAT REMIND HIM OF YOU.. The titles are always something like “Quiet is Beautiful” or “Loving Someone Soft” or just some cheesy romance novel with a blushing heroine. He always scribbles a note inside like “Saw this and thought of you. You’re my favorite.”

HE LIVES FOR THE LATE NIGHT CONVOS.. You’re in bed, half-asleep, and you whisper something like “do you think the stars look different in heaven?” and this man is suddenly wide awake and in full philosophical mode, holding you and telling you what he thinks while stroking your arm.

HE TOTALLY PICKS UP ON YOUR SOCIAL ANXIETY AND SUBTLY HELPS YOU OUT.. If you’re in a conversation and get flustered, Sam will gently step in without making it obvious. He’ll steer the conversation smoothly so you don’t feel pressured to talk too much, all while giving you reassuring little touches, like a hand on your back.

SAM OFFERS YOU HIS JACKET WITHOUT YOU ASKING.. Cold? You get the jacket. Nervous? You get the jacket. Just existing in the world? Guess what, you’re getting the damn jacket. It’s like a hug from him, and you know he gets a little weak seeing you wrapped up in it.

HE NEVER LETS YOU DOUBT HOW MUCH HE WANTS YOU.. You’re quiet and might have moments of thinking you’re too awkward or not enough. Sam sees it immediately and pulls you into the warmest hug, whispering, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, sweetheart. Don’t ever think you’re not.”

ADORES THE WAY YOU TUCK YOURSELF INTO HIS SIDE.. Like a little shy koala. If you ever burrow into him, face in his chest, holding onto his flannel? He’s DONE. He’ll just wrap you up and murmur, “God, I love you so much.”

taglist; @lieutenantchaos @bejeweledinterludes @ambiguous-avery @mostlymarvelgirl @freeluigihesbae @brutuuallove @impala67rollingthroughtown @multiversefanfics @littlesoulshine @starzify @ladykitana90 @idontwannabehere78 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @pieandflannel @twelveyearsofit @tinas111 @unstable-cucumber ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⤿ wanna be tagged in my fics?.. don't be shy! @ taglist.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library. ⊹₊⟡

#༊*·˚ wvyik #sofia writes ✎#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fluff #supernatural x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x female reader #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester fic #spn fanfic

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34tmyh34rt · 4 months ago

Note

König wanting to be tied up but he’s nervous to ask

Tying up subby König

Smut Ahead!!

A/n: This scared me to be completely honest, like how do I write this 😭 BUT I CAN DO THIS.

Sorry for the wait, I wanted to make sure that this was good for all of y’all :)

Tags: gn reader, afab reader, fat friendly fic, no pronouns except for ‘you’, sub König, dom reader, bondage, degradation (m receiving), after care included, slight obsessive König, toxic masculinity mentioned, gender roles mentioned, König being a wuss, what color have we agreed his eyes are??? also this fic is a lil silly, don’t take me too seriously, gets better as you read lol

König’s huge and beefy. He’s not made to be gentle, vulnerable. When you’re in military you gotta have muscles, not feelings. But lord does this big man just want to be put in his place.

Whenever he had the time - or privacy - bondage was always his favorite to pleasure himself to. The lack of control, putting your body in the hands of someone else, having to take everything you were given.

The soldiers he worked with didn’t have much of a filter, using any chance they could to compete in some stupid testosterone pissing match. They boasted about coming back home to their submissive wife that they could fold into a million positions. Talking about how strong and dominant they were - but König couldn’t help but wish for the roles to be reversed.

Being a dom never really did it for him, he didn’t get all the hype. He’d much rather be the one being played with like clay. Pushed and pulled in all directions, used like a doll, treated like a slut. But he could never tell the other men this! No, he’d be ridiculed! I mean, he breaks open doors for a living! He can’t whimper and beg!

But oh lord does he.

He loves his relationship with you. He doesn’t think he could ever find anyone who cares for him as much as you do. God you’re just so fucking perfect. You understand him so well. You don’t make fun of him, you know that he comes with a lot of fucking baggage. You’re so patient with him, especially when his anxiety is taking over.

He’s been too scared to go too far with you in the bedroom. He won’t even let you touch him, worried that he’ll turn into subby mess right under your hands. He’ll finger you or eat you out, never using his dick. If you ever complain or feel bad about the only one getting pleasured, he’ll just tell you that you deserve to feel good, so why don’t you just sit back and let him play with your body?

You guessed that he was just too anxious or insecure to actually fuck yet. You remind him every day that you love him and you’d never leave him, I mean, even that bulge is impressive. If he let you suck his dick once you’d be his forever. He’s so fucking hot and god won’t he just fuck you already!! Nothing could turn you off of an absolute hunk of man like him.

You’ve been begging more and more every day, even resorting wearing only his shirt and your underwear, hoping he’ll rip it right off of you and take you right then and there. Crawling into his lap and grinding down. But of course he’ll just effortlessly pick you up and set you down next to him, giving you a kiss on the head as a sort of apology and racing to the bathroom to deal with his massive… problem

You rolled your eyes, seriously?!?!?

You know that he’s jerking off. This is ridiculous, he obviously wants to fuck you, what the hell is going on? You can’t do this anymore! That’s it, you’re confronting him and getting a goddamn answer.

Your knuckles knock against the wooden door of the bathroom, “König. Get out here. Right now. I know you’re jerking off in there.”

König felt heat rush from his tummy to his cock, goddamnit now he was even harder. He strained against his pants painfully, a soft whimper tumbling past his lips. You’ve never been so demanding before. He hate how much it turned him on.

With a large hand clumsily hiding his bulge, König stumbled out of the bathroom. He was sheepish, refusing to look you in the eye. He looked so fucking pathetic. And he still looked sexy.

“König,” you drawled out his name, frustration evident in your tone - it sent another rush south, König’s eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the sound, “Are you gonna keep beating your dick in the bathroom or are you going to fuck me?”

You could practically hear König gulp, his hand squeezing down over his hard on. His wide eyes flickered down to your lips, you looked so hot when you were angry.

He nodded slowly, never breaking his gaze from you. He’ll probably last long enough, he just has to go slow - that’s all! He just has to keep focusing on being strong and manly and he won’t melt at the feeling of your pussy around his cock! Oh god, who is he kidding, he can’t stay dominate around yo-

“You want me to top you, don’t you?”

His heart dropped. How do you know? He’s quiet, he never has told you anything about his preferences! He’s in the military! He acts like all his peers, right?

His thoughts are racing and you can tell. His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes moving back and forth - something you realized that he does every time he’s deep in thought. You let out a small giggle, “König, don’t be so oblivious, baby.”

You walk up to him, hand reaching up to hold his face. The simple touch has him sinking into your hold. “God look at you, it’s not hard to tell. You always liked it when I took charge,” you leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “You want me to tie you up? Ride your cock until you can’t see straight? Prove to you how much of a slut you are?”

His knees almost buckle under him, you’re all he could ever want. He’s fantasied about you so many nights, worried that he’d never be enough for you. Worried that he wouldn’t live up to your expectations. But that’s okay, you have all the time in the world to prove to him what a good boy he is.

He couldn’t even think, stumbling as you dragged him into your shared room. You quickly tore off your shirt and pants, only allowing him enough time to take off his shirt before throwing him down on the bed, climbing onto his lap and straddling his thick, muscular thighs.

You looked so pretty on top of him. He loved being under you, he wish he could spend the rest of his life right here.

You playfully rutted your heat down on his rock hard cock, König threw back his head. He let out a loud whine, fingers digging into your hips. “You know König, I’ve been planning for this for oh so long. I’ve seen how squirmy you get whenever someone’s tied up on TV. How you grab something to cover your lap. But you’re just so obvious, huh baby?” You squished his cheeks between your fingers. Your voice was so condescending and he couldn’t help but thrust his hips up into you.

“God, you’re such a whore for me König.”

He whined, loud. His pretty pink lip caught between his teeth, brows drawn together. He watched as you opened up your bedside drawer and pulled out a bundle of delicate black lace. His face flushed, cock throbbing against you.

He stayed perfectly still for you as you gently grabbed his hands, leading them up the headboard, and tying them together in a neat little bow. The intricate fabric looked perfect next to his bulging muscles. You ran your fingers up and down the sprawling vine like veins in his arms, you could feel him quivering beneath you. His shallow breathes and occasional low moans tumbling past his mouth.

He gave an experimental tug to his bindings, he could barely move. A rush of blood flowed down to his cock. You were so strong, tying him up so tight, leaving him to your mercy.

You could feel him harden even more, a smirk gracing your face, “You like that baby? You like being tied up under me?” His head quickly nodded, his pretty blue eyes looking up at you.

“Maybe I should just leave you here…” you trail off, leaving kisses along his collarbone, “all desperate and whiny… I mean, it’s only fair after making me wait this long.”

You don’t think you’ve seen König so panicked before. His eyes were blown wide, hands tugging at his bindings so he can hold onto you and keep you right where he needs you. “N-no! Schatz please… please! Bitte mein leibling… I- y/n, I can’t-“ His words slurred, strung together by his thick accent.

“Come on König, stop blabbering. I know you can beg me better than that.” Your words shut him right up. You could see him process, his mind clouded with lust.

“Liebling… ich braunche dich, I need to have you t-touch me…” he pleaded for you, lips trembling and dick pressing against your thigh. “I want to be inside of you so bad, maus… fuck, I’m so hard for you y/n…” How could you deny him when he was begging you so sweetly?

“Only because you’re being such a good boy for me.” You smirked as you oh so slowly unbuttoned his pants. He thrust into the air uncontrollably, even the slightest touch drove him mad. “Ah-ah, stay still König.” His teeth dug into his lip at your words.

You pulled him out of his boxers, his cock slapping up against his tummy with how aroused he was. Pre cum slid down to his base in pretty droplets. You wrapped your hand around him, barely covering him entirely from just how big he was. König let out small breathy whimpers, the heat of your hand was just so warm and nice against his hard on.

You gave him a small lick at his tip, the flavor of his cock spreading deliciously across your tongue. König let out a loud, drawn out groan. More and more peals dribbled from the slit and you quickly caught them in your mouth. König pulled down on his restraints as you slowly took the head of his dick in your mouth, sucking gently.

He loved when you treated him so sweetly, so softly. So lovingly. But lord could he not wait for you to fuck him up.

You started bobbing up and down on his cock effortlessly, taking him nice and easy. You looked up him through your lashes as you hollowed your cheeks and it sent his stomach in knots. It felt so good, the warmth and wetness of your mouth was like heaven. Your teeth grazing the skin of his dick, a small reminder that he was under your mercy and control. To another man it might be threatening to think that their pleasure could so easily be turned into something so painful if the person blowing them off only clamped slightly…

But it just pushed him closer to the edge. Being placed in between those pretty jaws of yours, so sweet but so dangerous. Of course you’d never hurt him, at least not more than he could handle - or enjoy.

He thrusted up into your mouth only for your hands to hold down his hips. Your eyes glowered at him in warning, you were in charge of his pleasure. He whimpered as a sort of apology, too enraptured in the sight of his cock disappearing between your lips to form words. Your saliva pooling at his base and mixing with his pre cum.

He couldn’t wait any longer, his stomach tightening in short spasms. “Maus, I- I’m gonna… ‘M gonna cum…” His breath came out heavy in between his words, your mouth never ceasing as you watched him stumble his words out.

Your lips pulled off his cock with a small ‘pop’, hand lazily moving up and down on his length. “Yeah? You gonna cum? Am I making you feel that good?” His eyes watered, your words so teasing and mean but so arousing. You let out a little chuckle at his state, feeling him twitch in your hand, “Go ahead, cum for me. Cum for me like the slut you are”

You brought your head back down on his dick, moving fast and rough. He loves the way you talk to him, the way you treat him. Like he’s yours. He pulled harder on the lace holding him in hopes of grounding himself, hoping to somehow deal with the overwhelming pleasure you were giving him.

You let his hips thrust into you as he chased his orgasm, loud whines and strings of your name leaving his mouth. You kept your gaze on his face as his brows pinched and eyes closed tight. You felt his cum spill past your lips and leaking down onto his lap. You kept sucking his off long past his high came down, aftershocks twitching throughout his body.

“W-wait it’s, it’s too much- ngh! Oh my god…- y/n!” You giggled watching him squirm with overstimulation. You laid one of your hands down on his hips, pressing down against him. The other hand traced up and down his cock. It was still hard, pressed against his tummy and smearing left over cum on his skin. He jumped with each ghost of your fingers and whined for your teasing to stop.

You eventually slowed your hand, grinning at the mess König had become beneath you, “Alright pretty boy, so fucking sensitive, huh? But if you’re too sensitive for me to even touch you, how am I going to properly fuck you?”

Standing at the edge of the bed you slowly pulled your underwear down, looking at every twitch of König cock as he watched you. You climbed into his lap, your bare cunt hovering above his dick.

Tears fell from the corners of his eyes and he gazed at you as though you were sent by god just for him. “Du bist so schön, meine Liebe.”

König’s lip quivered as you lower yourself down onto him. His hard cock stretched out your walls so wonderfully. So hot and thick, and all yours. You threw back your head at the feeling of König disappearing into you inch by inch.

“König you feel so fucking good baby, filling me up soooo much”

König searched for your eyes, needing to know just how good he was making you feel. Him. Not anyone else, him. He felt like he’d cum just at the thought of pleasuring you so well.

His hands shook in his bindings, he craved the feeling of your skin. He needed to run his hands up the curves of your tits, and down the fat of your hips. He needed to grab your stomach and grope your thigh. He just needed to touch- but he was a good boy. He wouldn’t beg you to untie him, no, he needed to prove he could be nothing but a toy for you to use. This was all about you.

God, you.

Your hips met his and the final stretch lodged a moan through your pretty lips. König involuntarily bucked into you as a tear rolled down his cheek at the bliss of being inside of you.

You reached down a hand to dry his face, your other hand pressing down against his lap,

“Aw, Baby, it’s okay. Don’t get too excited though, you keep still.”

Your voice was soft but firm. So melodious. It sounded like honey to König and you could feel him throb inside of you as he held back another thrust.

You teasingly rolled your hips with his full dick inside of you, head thrown back and thoroughly enjoying yourself. König’s teeth burrowed into the soft plush of his lip, overwhelmed by the sight of your heavenly state and the overstimulation to his cock.

His jaw dropped open as he felt you slowly rise up until only the tip was encased in your warmth, and then quickly falling back down to his hips. You watched as König whimpered, eyes screwed shut as pleasure shot through him.

You picked up the pace with each movement, up and down, up and down. More and more whines tumbling past König’s lips as they harmonized with your own moans. Your slick and his cum mixed together over his hips and the insides of your thighs. You reached a hand forward, tracing patterns on his stone hard stomach. It was like chiseled marble, perfectly sculpted all for only you to see and to touch.

He jumped, the muscle in his tummy jumping at the feeling and relaxing at your chuckle.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how sensitive you are, König.” You leaned forward even more, lips teasing his ear. “It’s gonna make fucking you a lot harder for you and a lot more fun for me.”

You straightened your back, mean grin gracing your features. König’s eyes reached the back of his skull, too pleasured to feel real fear at your words. It only pushed him further to finishing. His stomach muscles spasming in preparation and his body tensing.

You suddenly stopped, his cock fully encased in your tight warmth. A twisted cry came from König, desperate for you to continue but not daring to thrust his hips into you. You leaned against your arms propped on his chest, staring deeply into his eyes as he stared back.

Your voice was low aa you spoke, “Are you gonna cum again, König? Cum for your first time from my pussy? Cumming like the pussy drunk slut you are?”

A small sob left König, tears falling from his face. It was as all so much, almost too much. Having you be everything he’s ever dreamed of. He nodded his head, your word bouncing around his skull.

“Y-yes meine liebe, please. Please, let me. I love you.” Another sob, “Ngh, I’m- I’m your slut y/n, I’m your whore.”

“Awww.” You smiled wickedly at him, crashing your lips against his as you continued to ride him. His cock reached all the right places, leading you to your own release. You bit at his lips and even his tongue, his moans filling your mouth. Drool dribbled down his chin and slid down his neck.

Your pussy clenched around his cock, gripping him like you never wanted him to leave. The sound of your skin connecting was like music to König’s ears. The sound of accomplishment. The sound of his love in physical form. The sound of you taking him and putting him right where he fucking belonged.

His tummy tightened again, dick pulsing inside of you. You felt your own stomach pool with pleasure. You momentarily broke from König’s mouth, saliva stringing you together. His tongue lolled out, desperate for your connection to resume.

“Cum for me König, cum with me and prove to me that you’re mine and only mine.” Your lips reached his yet again as your hips moved faster and faster. You even allowed König to sloppily thrust into you. Each time your bodies met it felt like heaven, pushing you further and further to what you knew would be an other worldly orgasm.

All that mattered in this moment was you, it didn’t matter if he fucked before or if he’d cum from someone else before. It felt like he was doing it for the first time. Like this was the only time that mattered. The only person that made him feel this fucking good. This fucking loved.

The pleasure rose and rose, until it snapped. Euphoria rushing over your bodies in waves. A strangled cry pushed into your mouth from König. You could feel him filling you up, warmth spreading throughout your body. You did a few more slow lazy thrusts before pulling yourself off of him, sitting up and looking down at the mess you made.

God he was pathetic, tears drying against his face, lips swollen and bruised, and his eyes looking at you with pure admiration.

You lazily crawled off the bed, leaving König whining for you. When you returned you had a warm wet towel. You sat next to König and gently cleaned him off, careful to not overwhelm him too much. You could feel him jump underneath you every now and then from his overstimulation. When you were done you quickly cleaned your self off and laid the towel on the bed side table, turning back to König who watched your every move with a soft gaze.

You untied the lace around his wrists, holding them in your hands and massaging them lightly. “Does your skin hurt at all baby?”

“N-no. Well, not unbearably. The sting… feels nice.” His voice was husky and low. You smiled at him, before lying down and cuddling up to his chest. He was damp with sweat and his flesh was feverishly hot under your hands. His arm snaked under you and held you tight against him. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you so much maus, thank you… thank you for making me yours.”

A/n: oh. my. god. It’s finally over. I finally finished it. Sorry for being gone for so long! Hope this makes up for my absence :)

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skythealmighty · 8 months ago

Text

can you imagine if like. object show characters were active on tumblr . i mean fans on here but his account is dead so. i mean itd be fun

#rocket talk #roc save #Fan come Back we miss you

(0 notes)

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

OH MY GOD NEW TPOT EPIWODHWND IM GONNA GO INSANE ONE!!! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS ONE!!!!!!

1️⃣ theoneandonly Follow

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

HELLO??

#oh my god HI . THIS IS LIKE IF A CELEBRITY CAME UP TO ME IN PUBLIC. #ARE THE OTHER ALGEBRALIENS ON TUMBLR??? #/WHAT/

(3 notes)

🧪 test-tubular Follow

My best friend is pacing around my lab. I think a new episode's come out on one of his shows...

#I love him (/p) but he's going to become an unskippable cutscene very quickly

(0 notes)

⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow

i love shrimpy but it feels like he rlly doesnt ... get what i mean you know 😔 at least hes trying to cheer me up? i just wish i had someone to really talk to when it comes to these weird things i keep seeing

💼 emotional-baggage Follow

hey, i completely understand how you feel! im going to be busy the next few days with a finale, but ive sent you a dm if you need someone to talk to ^-^

⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow

thanks, ill take you up on that later!

⛔ nowayhuhuh Follow

...suitcase?

#i dont think shes been online since that last post #i hope shes alright...

(5 notes)

💰 goforthegold Follow

Reblogging this every time I miss my co-hosts!

💰 goforthegold Follow

🎮 iamnotmrkrabs Follow

Are you Okay

💰 goforthegold Follow

Take a wild guess.

(512 notes)

🥈 5centwonder Follow

why do people keep messaging me about hotel things?? i barely even go in two's hotel!

🥈 5centwonder Follow

yowie, you all need a hug :(!!

#especially you baseball guy!!! #im giving everyone in the comments a nice warm soft cookie

(19 notes)

🆚️ wordswithfriends Follow

Reblog if you think Flower winning BFB was a good choice, you like cheesecake, you hate Steve Cobs, you think Platinum is annoying, you're a fan of Dr. Fizz, you watch Jasonville TV, you think Glowstick's elimination was deserved, or you're gay

#they'll never know which one #i'm gay

(3,724 notes)

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

WHY IS THERE INTERNET IN RJE AFTERLIFE HELLO

👑 kingofeverything Follow

OMG NO WAY

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

GET OFF OF TUMBLR.

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

YOU HAVE??? A TUMBRL???????

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

...no.

👑 kingofeverything Follow

reblog if u dont have a tumblr

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

This is stupid.

(10,734 notes)

🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow

imagine needing to be Consistent to be popular

🖍 magic-crayons Follow

You know it girl!!!

🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow

AYYYEEEE

#idk who u are but we should hang out Now

(3 notes)

🟢 greenyguy Follow

🅱️alls

(42,853 notes)

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

Oh my god I finally got this thing to connect to the internet. Okay.

Hello, Tumblr, my name is Liam Plecak. I'm sorry for the tag spam, but this is an urgent enough matter that I think warrants it.

For the past year and a half, I've been trapped in another universe with little-to-no communication to anyone else. I've been reading a few posts here and there, and I think some of you might be able to help with freeing me and my friends (I think some of you have powers?). Below is an in-depth description of where I am, what happened, and who did this to me. Please, if you can help, send me an ask.

Keep reading

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

oh my god? liam from hfjone is fucking real????

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

I'm sorry what

#unreality #fake dashboard #inanimate insanity #osc #object shows #object show community #bfdi #itft #ppt2 osc #ppt2 #malueslots #showvember #greenyguy #hfjone #brawl of the objects #paper puppets take 2 #onehfj

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checkeredflagggs · 3 months ago

Text

Febuwhump Day 2: Holding Back Tears

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

y/n_rb

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, oscarpiastri, and 2,112,001 others

tagged: redbullracing

y/n_rb: not necessarily the fp1 we wanted to see but damn does this track have hands. (ps drinks and pizza have already been ordered for my poor engineers — love ya guys!)

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user1: girl you should be a dancer 💃 — you spun so gracefully

↳y/n_rb: very demure. very mindful. very cutesy

↳y/n_rb: you know what wasn’t mindful or demure?

↳user2: that gravel pit?

↳y/n_rb: that gravel pit!

maxverstappen1: You’ll come back stronger tomorrow!

↳y/n_rb: I’ll come back with my fightin’ hands

↳maxverstappen1: …sure.

↳y/n_rb: how are you so chronically offline?

↳maxverstappen1: I have a life.

↳y/n_rb: just say you hate me and move one

↳user3: damn girl — fighting both the track and the teammate…

↳y/n_rb: not very demure or mindful…

oscarpiastri: skill issue I guess

↳y/n_rb: I am in your wall pastry boy

↳oscarpiastri: you are very rat like I guess…

↳y/n_rb: 🔪🔪🔪🔪

↳oscarpiastri: 😱😱😱

↳redbullracing: no threatening other drivers please! Page number 83

↳user4: free my girl! She did everything you’re saying but it’s funny af

↳y/n_rb: I like you!

redbullracing: the engineers say thank you!

↳y/n_rb: I say thank you!

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen1, y/n_rb, lewishamilton, and 2,834,924 others

tagged: y/n_rb, maxverstappen1

redbullracing: and that’s how you do it! That’s a 1-2 for our drivers with y/n_rb getting her maiden win here in Saudi Arabia!

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user5: THATS OUR GIRL!!

user6: woohoo!!! What a terrific race!

maxverstappen1: Fantastic race today y/n!

↳y/n_rb: THANK YOU!!!

charles_leclerc: Félicitations!

↳y/n_rb: thank you better French man!!

↳charles_leclerc: I AM NOT FRENCH! I AM MONÉGASQUE!

↳y/n_rb: that’s not what arthur_leclerc says…

pierregasly: great race today y/n!

↳y/n_rb: did anyone hear anything? Cause it sounded like someone who HATES WOMEN IS TALKING TO ME

↳pierregasly: I DONT HATE WOMEN. STOP SAYING THAT I DO

↳pierregasly: francisca.cgomes some help here?

↳francisca.cgomes: wow…I didn’t know you thought this way Pierre…

↳pierregasly: not you too…

↳y/n_rb: 🤭🤭🤭

↳user7: looks like someone holds a grudge…

↳y/n_rb: looks like 2 different people need to choke on an 🍎… pierregasly user7

↳redbullracing: Page number 83!!

↳y/n_rb: 🥹🥹🥹

y/n_rb

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 1,224,924 others

y/n_rb: MAMA I DID IT!! FIRST RACE AND I WON!! PODIUM WITH LEWIS AND MAX!!! WOOHOO 🥳

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user8: are you crying right now?

↳y/n_rb: holding back the tears as I type

↳user8: demurely? Mindfully?

↳y/n_rb: tbh desperately

↳user8: 😂😂

lewishamilton: Congratulations y/n!

↳y/n_rb: oh my god thank you so much sir Lewis Hamilton! And again I’m so sorry for nearly bowling into you!

↳user9: who is this polite young lady and where is the feral driver I follow?

↳y/n_rb: listen when it’s sir Lewis Hamilton you better believe I’m on my best behavior

↳user9: understandable. Carry on

oscarpiastri: congrats you gremlin!

↳y/n_rb: listen here Aussie I know where you live and your mothers and sisters like me more

↳oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄

↳y/n_rb: nicolepiastri Oscar is bullying me!!

↳oscarpiastri: don’t bring my mom into this!

↳nicolepiastri: be nice Oscar! And y/n_rb dear come visit when in Australia! We’ll save you a seat at the dinner table!

↳y/n_rb: thank you mama Piastri!

↳oscarpiastri: mom!

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @voidvannie @justaf1girl

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written-in-flowers · 2 months ago

Text

The Places Between Us: Prologue (OT8 X Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Fem!reader | Side pairings: Fem!Reader x ATEEZ

Word Count: 7k

Genre: Smut, angst, slight fluff | AU: fantasy!au

Summary: Afflicted by a terrible curse, YN must travel through the vast kingdom and suffer through eight lords of the north to reach her destination: the demon who created in the first place, Lord Kim.

Overall Tags: dub-con, mind control, enslavement, kidnapping, forced breeding, monster fucking, sex work, mentions/implications of abuse, mentions/implications of SA, public sex, exhibitionism, humiliation, degradation, breeding kink, bigdick!Seonghwa, bigdick!Yunho, undead sex, sex w/ undead, belly bulge, anal sex, anal fingering, vaginal sex, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, squirting/vaginal ejaculation, slight size kink (height wise), overstimulation, facials, cum swallowing, choking, dom!ateez, sub!reader, tit fucking, sex toys, bondage, multiple partners, threesome, orc!jongho, naga!seonghwa, demon!hongjoong, dragon!yunho, undead!mingi, goblin!yeosang, lycan!san, lycan!wooyoung.

Note: if you choose to ignore the red tags, don't cry to me about it.

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of ATEEZ in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you.

Part 1: The Naga King >

****

At the Rooster’s Nest, there are two types of clients: single clients and married ones. A lot of the workers there, whether they be “entertainers” or barmaids, tend to steer clear of the married customers. They don’t mind pouring them drinks, sitting on their laps as they gamble, or give them a private strip tease, but a personal session? Never. The last thing an “entertainer” needed was an angry wife bursting through the door and throttling her for doing her job. So, a good portion of them stayed away from customers with spouses at home.

Except you.

You didn’t mind customers who had someone waiting on them. In fact, you preferred them. You told others that it gave you an excuse to charge an extra fee, your ‘hazard pay’. If a man wanted you badly enough, he’d have to pay extra for the pleasure of your company. Your colleagues laughed at your boldness, often giving words of caution, but you told them the money was worth it. They weren’t surprised, of course. You became notorious for it.

“You can charm the pants off anyone, YN,” Hyunjin told you in the dressing room. The silver-haired siren sat at his vanity, combing out his long strands, as he spoke. “I thought I could seduce someone, but you have me beat, I must say. I don’t know how you do it, but you do it.”

“What’s your secret?” a woman with sleek brown hair came walking out of an adjacent room, half-dressed with her hair tied in a high ponytail. Chorong leaned against the wall next to your table and crossed her arms. “Love potion? Special pheromone perfume?”

You shrugged, “I just know what men like, that’s all. They’re not hard to read, especially after they've had a few drinks.”

Dabbing blush onto your cheeks, you smirked to yourself. It came naturally to you, you supposed. Since you grew up without parents, you’d started caring for yourself at a young age. You aren’t particularly big or strong. You might be clever and cunning, but you have no head for numbers or reading. You only had your looks and charm. If you were short of money in the market, you batted your lashes and budding breasts at the merchant and he gave you what you wanted. Whenever you’d been caught stealing, a few whispered promises and sweet words enchanted the sheriff into letting you go with a warning. People can be quite easy once you understand them. All the men who came into The Rooster’s Nest only wanted two things: booze and women. You provided both.

Fixing up your eyebrows for a final time, you checked out yourself in a mirror. Tonight you wore the red and gold halter top, and the long skirt that hung low on your hips. A tantalizing outfit, the two slits in the skirt left a bit for the imagination and the vibrant color drew the eye. The golden bangles on your wrists, and the necklace draped between your breasts added another layer of regality. In the mirror, you transformed from a country girl to a seductive goddess. You’d have no trouble alluring the right men tonight.

One man in particular stuck out in your mind.

“Are you seeing Him tonight?” Hyunjin asked, a knowing smirk on his face.

You couldn't suppress your smile at the question. A pointed face with dark round eyes came to the forefront of your mind. The thought of his wide, gummy smile only broadened yours. Your stomach filled with butterflies as his laugh echoed in your head. You hadn't seen or heard from Hongjoong in several weeks, but you knew he had not forgotten you. The numerous trinkets and love letters in your bedroom told you so. He never said when he'd arrive; he simply showed up and spent the night before leaving again. A situation like this might bother some women, but for a woman in your profession, it worked out well.

“I don't know,” you answered. “He hasn't said if he'd come by or not.”

“He's probably with his wife and kids right now,” Chorong joked, earning giggles from the people around her. “A good looking guy like him is definitely not single.”

“No,” you shook your head, “Hongjoong isn't like that. I can tell.”

Memories of your last night with him came flooding back. Eyes landing on a crystal necklace hanging from your mirror, you admired the white raw moonstone on a silver chain. The silver circled it as if encased in ice, gleaming in the light of the dressing room. You picked it up and clasped it around your neck.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to wear that?” Hyunjin asked, tying a glittery sash around his hips. “Vernon might show up.”

“I don’t care,” you admired the stone laying on your chest. It stood out against the gold and ruby necklaces you wore. Hongjoong might come tonight and see you wearing his gift. “If he doesn’t like it, he can go with somebody else.”

“Ha, I doubt he’ll do that.”

Chwe Vernon was a walking money bag with a pretty face. Son of Gold Rush’s mayor, he also ran the largest farm in the area. He comes into The Rooster’s Nest with pockets full of gold and silver to spend on ale, gambling tables, and pretty girls. A lot of your coworkers didn’t mind humoring him whenever he came into the tavern, but they never went past a kiss or a feel. Vernon might be handsome and rich, but not enough to risk running into his wife.

He didn’t hold a candle to Hongjoong. Not by a long shot.

“You’re playing with fire, girl,” he chuckled. “Haeyoung isn’t one to be messed with.”

“Oh, what will that little rat do? Squeak at me?” You said, a bit annoyed thinking about Vernon’s jealous wife.

More people might pursue Vernon if it weren’t for the rumors that spread about Haeyoung. The rumors that she was more than a mere apothecary and healer. One of the church women claimed they once saw Haeyoung performing dark magic rituals in the forest while another claimed she’d set a curse upon her daughter. Witches are not well liked in the smaller country towns, where prejudice stemmed from fear of the unknown and unfamiliar. You found this to be hypocritical since your local priest, Father Moon, wielded what people called ‘Holy Magic’. But then again, he claimed his powers came from a high being, so people accepted him. The only reason Haeyoung never stood on the gallows was Vernon and his family. An upstanding family like the Chwe’s wouldn’t let a witch into their clan, so it must be a rumor. Still, people remained suspicious. That suspicion turned into caution. Cross Chwe Haeyoung, and become cursed.

You found this to be utter nonsense. The only beings with any real magic are the non-humans, or ‘magicfolk’, like Hyunjin, who was a Siren from the Northern Sea. You saw glimmers of his “unnaturalness” in the shimmery contours of his face, a light aqua against fair skin and the dark blue hue of his full lips. Aside from him, a good chunk of the people who lived in Gold Rush are also magicfolk. Some of your best and favorite regulars are not human; you had many elven, goblins and were-people as friends. You doubted Haeyoung, with her mundane humanity, was anything close to magical.

“Well, I’m off,” you concluded, slipping into a pair of sandals. “I’ll see you two on the floor.”

You walked out into the tavern’s main room. Several gambling tables took over the large hall, while a band played music in a nearby corner. Behind the bar, you saw Yoongi wiping down pint glasses while Namjoon served beer from the barrels. You gave him a wink, which made him smile brightly. You never could resist a handsome face. Men are a weakness of yours, especially the particularly handsome ones. It’s why you’d become so interested in Vernon initially. His looks drew you to him, but it was his purse that kept you around. Sauntering by the bar, you gave Namjoon a flirty smile.

“Evening Joonie,” you said, making eye contact.

“Evening YN,” he breathed, passing out a pint of ale while looking you over. “You look sensational.”

“Don’t I always?” you approached the bar, taking in Namjoon’s muscles and broad shoulders. “Busy tonight?”

“Not busy enough to ignore you,” he winked, then turned away.

You left the bar for the stages on the other side. The sensuality going through the room slipped into your body, and controlled your swaying hips as you walked. A young woman in nothing but a golden chain harness and mesh underwear contorted herself into complicated positions for a group of men near the stage. A tall, lavender-skinned she-elf danced provocatively on one of the smaller stages on either side of the area, golden coins in pails at the corners.

Standing near the area, you searched for Hongjoong. He liked sitting at the back tables, where he could watch in private. He always came alone; he hardly spoke to anyone except the occasional “business partner”. Hongjoong never said what he did for a living, but you knew it must be profitable. The man’s pockets never seemed to empty. Your heart weighed slightly when you did not see him at his usual spots. Perhaps he’ll come later on in the night.

You took your place on the opposite stage, and started swaying and whirling your hips. It didn’t take long for customers to gravitate towards you. You gave your flirtatious winks, your sly smirks, and sultry responses. You showed glimpses of your breasts and backside, knowing how it made them drool. Their attention fueled your movements; their desire to touch you sparked a similar arousal in you. Hongjoong said he loved watching you dance. His eyes followed every movement, glued to your body and already planning what he’d do with you later.

“Namjoon!” Vernon waltzed into the tavern, giving the bartender a wide smile as he put a coin on the bartop. “One pint, please. I’ve built up a thirst tonight.”

This was your chance. Hongjoong won’t be upset if you took up with someone else before him. A girl needed to eat after all. Hopping off the stage, you made your way over to Vernon through the crowd.

“Hello, handsome,” you said with a smile, taking the spot next to him.

Vernon’s eyes glued to your body the second he saw you. They drank in your scandalous outfit, focusing on your chest a bit longer before meeting your eyes. “YN…” he said, “You’re a sight for sore eyes. I bet people have been drooling over you all night.”

“They have,” you admitted, walking closer, “But there’s only one person I want drooling over me.”

Make him feel special. Even if it’s for an hour or two, your job was to make an everyday man feel like a king. You took the ale Namjoon placed on the bar and sipped it, keeping your eyes on Vernon as you did so. Pointedly, you let the top foam slide down the sides of your mouth before wiping them away.

“Trust me,” he smirked, pulling you by the waist and taking the beer, “I’ll be doing more than drooling by the end of the night.”

“Oh?” you teased, “And what about Haeyoung?”

“She’s out of town,” he said. “Something about meeting a friend up north. I don’t know, but she won’t be coming here.”

“Good,” you said, hands on his chest, “I don’t want her to spoil your good time.”

“Neither do I,” he replied, hand on the small of your back. “Come sit with my men and I,” he insisted, “I could use a good luck charm at the tables.”

You let him lead you to an open table and sat in his lap. ‘Good luck charm’ was Vernon’s way of saying he needed an accomplice. You’d distract his opponents with your tits or a compliment whenever Vernon switched cards up his sleeves or stole chips from them. Being a rich man who surrounded himself with desperate men, they didn’t dare speak out if they did catch him cheating.

“This is real silver and moonstone,” Vernon asked half way through the game. He lifted the moonstone from your neck, “Where did you get this?”

“It’s a gift,” you saw his jealousy rising, and you felt annoyed.

“From who? Nobody around here can buy this kind of thing.”

“He’s from out of town. He comes here sometimes, and he usually gives me nice gifts. Sometimes it’s rare flowers, other times it’s things from exotic places.”

“So, he’s got money?”

“I guess? He travels a lot.”

Vernon nodded, then dropped your necklace. “I don’t see why he bothers,” he said, “Why would any man spend money on a whore?”

You wanted to slap him. You almost did before you remembered his fat coin purse. Hongjoong would’ve punched him. Rich man or not, Hongjoong feared nobody. You knew this from the time you watched him square off against a large farmhand who’d insulted you. The man stood several inches taller, and much wider, yet Hongjoong did not back down. They didn’t come to blows, but just seeing him defend you when other men didn’t strengthened your feelings for him. Vernon would be no match.

After a few rounds of watching the same outcome, you gave a small pout. “This is starting to bore me now. Why don’t we go play our own game upstairs?”

“And what game might that be?” he questioned, pushing hair from your face and letting his fingers trail to your bare shoulder.

You pretended to give it a thought, then picked up a black gambling chip. “Find the Chip,” you winked, already standing with the chip between your teeth.

“My favorite.”

You led him upstairs by the hand, anticipation burning down your body. You knew you’d make a killing tonight. Men like Vernon never went only one time; they had the money, and they’d spend all they had. The moment he shut the door, you began slowly undressing. Vernon’s eyes stayed on you as you removed it piece by piece, unbuttoning his own shirt as he did. Soon, you were naked and pulling back the bed sheets.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he marveled at your nude form, watching you throw the chip onto the bed. “I’ve never been with a woman as beautiful as you before…”

“I’m sure you haven’t,” you said, crawling into the bed and putting the covers over yourself, “Haeyoung isn't a great beauty.”

“Nor as erotic.”

He settled between your thighs and immediately started feeling up and down your body. You giggled every time he brushed a ticklish spot, and gave a soft sigh or two when he moved over a sensitive area. You knew the circular chip was right underneath you, and so did he, but he didn’t go there just yet. Vernon captured your lips in his as he “searched” your breasts. Cupping and squeezing them gently, you felt small sparks of pleasure when he rubbed over your nipples. Your hands roaming down to his waist, you slid them into his pants and squeezed the firm cheeks there. It earned you a low rumble that filled your mouth. Vernon let you massage them while he started grinding against your bare sex. It never took much to warm your clients up, particularly because they come to you already aroused. You simply drew it out of them in every kiss and touch.

Your head turning to give him more access, you happened to glance out the window. On the sill, illuminated by the lantern on the low side table, sat a black bird. You couldn’t make out the breed until it bounced a little closer. A crow. You have never seen one on its own before. The bird stared into the room as if watching you and Vernon. You amused yourself by thinking it’d come to peek in on you.

When he finally found the chip, Vernon received his reward.

“Yes,” he exhaled deeply, feeling your lips finally wrap around his tip, “Just like that.”

You gave the pulsing head a soft lick before sliding it into your mouth. The salty precum threw you off a moment, but you’d grown used to it right away. Sucking firmly, you bobbed your head gradually up and down while keeping your eyes on him. His whines and whimpers made your sex throb; you watched the powerful, influential Chwe Vernon slowly submit to you. You stopped sucking and jerked him as you kissed his thighs, knowing the move arched his back. The pleasure radiating from him brought life into your worn out body; it replaced the emptiness that filled your insides. Whenever you began having sex, Vernon became a man possessed. He suddenly didn’t see sense, and did whatever you wanted him to do. You immediately became his world, which you basked in gladly.

As you went back to sucking his cock, tasting the smooth skin and feeling the veins pulsate against your tongue, the door flew open.

“Vernon! What the hell are you doing?!”

Haeyoung’s howl broke Vernon from your spell, and he bolted upright. You smoothly moved away from him and faced Haeyoung. A sliver of a woman with black hair and dark eyes, Haeyoung’s glaring face irritated you. She always acted so surprised when she caught him with someone. You snatched up your skirt from the floor and started sliding it back up your legs.

“Haeyoung?” Vernon said in disbelief, using a pillow to cover himself, “Wha-What are you doing here? You said you were coming back tomorrow!”

“I came back early,” she said, not looking away from you, “Because I knew you’d take the opportunity to see your whore while I was gone.” She stalked into the room, not bothering to address her husband. “So, you’re the one he’s been seeing. Huh, I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been the type to take things that aren’t yours, YN.”

“It’s nothing personal, Haeyoung,” you admitted. “Vernon’s just a client. Nothing more. If you’re gonna take it out on anyone, it should be him.”

“It’s not his fault you’re an evil temptress,” she hissed. “You’re a deceitful, greedy whore. You only became a brothel worker so you have excuses to sleep around and feel important, because you know deep down, you’re nothing. It’s probably the reason your parents abandoned you. They knew you’d grow up to be a no-good, worthless whore and didn’t want anything to do with you.”

This insult would’ve brought you to tears when you were ten. Now, as an adult, you felt your rage boiling.

“I wouldn’t know, Haeyoung, they abandoned me, remember?” You remarked, pulling on your top and clasping it behind your neck. “You two can work this out up here,” you tied your skirt around your waist and put it in place, “Goodnight to you both.”

Haeyoung stood between you and the doorway. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Out of my way, Haeyoung, before I call the bouncers.”

“You and those harlots down there,” she growled, “Are going to finally see what happens when you mess with what’s mine.”

“Haeyoung, please!” Vernon called out desperately, “Don’t!”

You saw the look in her eyes, feeling the rage burning within her and boiling to the surface. She did not frighten you. She was a puny little woman angry at the world.

“Goodnight, Haeyoung,” you said firmly, pushing her aside and leaving the room.

“Don’t you walk away from me, you slut!”

“Namjoon!” you called out from the loft above the main room, “Haeyoung’s at it again.”

“I’m on it.”

You’d started walking down the stairs when you heard her from the top landing. “You’re going to regret not curbing this appetite of yours, YN YLN!”

You’d only just turned around when something hit the lower part of your back. Hot, stinging pain paralyzed you, causing you to fall down the rest of the stairs. Your jaw clenched as you restrained a scream. White hot pain shocked your muscles and seeped deep into the area around it; you slammed into the bottom landing as the pain burrowed inside and started spreading. It slowly crept through your veins, starting on your back where it rolled against your spine. The pain came the worst here. You would’ve thought someone tried splitting you in half or swung a burning blade up your back. Your fingers dug into the carpet as your arms started trembling. You swore it went into your fingernails, causing you to curl your fingers into your palms until they bled.

“What the…” Namjoon’s voice sounded closer, “YN!”

“Oh my god, YN!” you heard Hyunjin from nearby.

Their voices barely reached you. The sensation moved from your back to your chest, which burned hotly. It went up into your throat like bile, acidic and viscous, but nothing came up. Only more horrific screams tore through your throat, calling into the air like a banshee. In the blurriness, you made out Haeyoung’s shadowy figure. When she bent down over you, you saw her wicked smugness.

“Haeyoung, what’s happening? Is she alright?” Vernon called from somewhere far away.

“You crazy bitch!” Hyunjin shouted, “What the hell did you do?!”

“You should've kept your legs closed, YN,” she smirked. “Now, you're gonna do anything but close them.”

You clawed at her, but the pain kept you in place.

“Witch!” a voice called out from nearby.

“She really is a witch!”

“Get her!”

Haeyoung yelped when a pair of strong arms lifted her away from you. The self-satisfied smile she’d worn vanished the instant she saw the people around her. “Wait! Wait, no! Vernon! Vernon!”

“Get the sheriff!”

“I got the rope!”

You wanted it to stop. You wanted to die.

“Namjoon, please help!” Hyunjin sobbed. “Please, don’t let her die.”

“A witch! She’s a real witch!” Somebody cried from nearby.

“Get the rope!”

“Let her swing!”

When another person bent over you, you flinched away from their touch at first. It was Namjoon. His hands pressed to the spot on your back, and it felt like fire on your skin. You couldn't hear what he was saying, but he murmured a low incantation in a strange language. Namjoon’s spell soothed the engulfing flames while relaxing the torturous pain.

“Namjoon-” Hyunjin’s whimper interrupted.

“-Hush!”

Namjoon continued chanting, his voice drowning out the commotion going outside. Someone screamed, but you couldn't place the precise location it came from. All you comprehended was your pain and Namjoon's steady, gentle voice. When the sensation slowly dwindled to a dull ache, your brain became fuzzy from the combination of the two.

“Just sleep, YN. Just sleep.”

And so you did.

****

Someone broke all your bones and put them back together with glue. At least, that was how you felt when you woke up the next morning. Laying face down in a soft bed, the faint scent of lemon and lavender filled your nose right away. It had a strangely calming effect on you, as if the scent itself clung to your skin and nostrils to heal you. You didn't know where you were at first. Your brain pieced together what happened the previous night, and all you mustered was Haeyoung’s gloating face. Haeyoung. You thought of the calls for a rope and cries of witchcraft.

“Did they hang her?” Came out of your throat hoarse and cracked.

“Not right away,” Namjoon answered from nearby.

Opening your eyes fully, you saw him crouching by the fireplace. He appeared to be stirring a small pot on the cracking wood. You curled, stretching your aching bones, to get a better look at him. The friendly bartender had shed his persona to reveal the simple man underneath. Gazing down his neck, you noticed his broad shoulders that led to lean arms. Free of his jacket, you saw the swirling black tattoos around his shoulders and wrists. They appeared to be in the shape of runes, at least you guessed. You’d never seen them in all the time you’ve worked at the Rooster’s Nest. When did he get them? What did they mean? It brought attention to his firm, toned body. For a brief moment, you saw yourself kissing down his smooth chest to his navel before slowly tugging his pants to his thighs.

You shook the thoughts from your head.

“Someone dragged her outside while Yoongi got the rope,” Namjoon explained, crushing herbs between his palms then adding them to the pot. “I managed to stop them before they yanked her up the tree.”

“She’s alive, then?”

“No. I only stopped them to question her.”

“About?”

“About where she learned demon magic.”

“Demon magic?” your eyes widened.

“The spell she casted last night can only be casted by a demon,” he nodded, stirring the potion which turned a bright green once the leaves touched the surface. “They're the only beings strong enough to wield them. If she’d been a mere mortal, it meant a demon taught it to her or she stole the magic from one of them.”

“I’m going to take a guess that she wasn’t human?”

“Oh, she was. She was a witch,” He sprinkled a few sprigs of herbs into the potion next, and you saw the green hue turn a murky jade. “Witches can consort with demons. When I asked her, she said a powerful demon showed her things that no mortal ever could. It took me a while, but I learned where she got it from.”

“Are you a demon then?”

He laughed through his nose, “No. You’d know if I was.”

“Then, what are you?”

“Warlock,” he tapped one of the runes on his shoulder. He stirred the green potion in the fireplace, taking a whiff before adding more herbs. “These are protection runes. If Haeyoung tried cursing me, it would have bounced back on her.”

“Wish I had some protection runes,” you muttered. “Where is she now?”

“Six feet under in an unmarked grave,” he said, “What they do to all witches.”

“What happened after they hung her?”

“Haeyoung’s neck broke the second they hoisted her up the tree. Of course, the death of his wife riled Vernon and his boys up so they started fighting the other patrons in the bar. Two men had been shot by the time the sheriff and deputy rode up to the place with their boys. It took them a while to settle everything up and get tempers cooled again, and when they did, the law took in two of Vernon’s gang, a dwarf who’d tried coming at him with an ax, and Yoongi. Don’t worry,” he said at your sudden gasp, “He’s out. They let him go when it was confirmed that she had, in fact, attacked you.”

“Vernon must’ve been pissed about that.”

“He was,” Namjoon nodded.

He ladeled some potion in a pint mug, then came back to your bedside. You forced yourself to sit up despite the tenderness in your limbs, and took the warm mug in your hands. In a few tentative sips, the potion started relaxing your sore muscles. Namjoon watched you drink as he continued.

“Though, I don’t get why. It’s not as if he was a faithful, loving husband.”

“He’ll be glad to be rid of her, I suspect.” You scowled over your drink, taking another sip before saying, “Wish they’d waited until I woke up so I could watch her swing.”

Your upright position stretched your back, and brought focus to the slight stinging coming from where the pain originated. Reaching behind your back to the left side, you felt several raised welts underneath a thin gauze bandage. The sizzling, scorching pain that initially shocked you faded into a faint stinging whenever your fingers brushed it. The patch itself felt wet, but when you brought your hand to your nose, you smelled the earthy scent of witch hazel.

“Is it bad?” you winced over at him.

“It was awful,” he confirmed, “But Healer Yang and I were concerned about the mark itself. It can get infected if left alone for too long. I applied some witch hazel to relieve any inflammation or irritation you might get from it.”

“Mark?! She marked me?!”

Namjoon sighed, then said, “She cursed you, YN. Minor to mild curses don’t typically come with any sort of mark to signify it, but the major ones definitely do.”

You furrowed your brow in thought. Haeyoung had said something as she watched your suffering, but you couldn’t recall it.

“I imagine she thought it’d be ironic,” he said. He went through his satchel nearby, retrieving a small leatherbound book with a strange symbol on the cover. “She already believes all brothel workers are sex-driven animals. It only makes sense that she’d curse you with the Hand of Lust.”

“Hand of Lust?”

He turned the book around on your lap. On the page, the author illustrated a realistic disembodied hand coming out from flickering flames, a bleeding heart inches above the fingertips. Aside from that, they’d written ‘The Hand of Lust’ and a description of the curse.

“‘Those cursed by The Hand will suffer unimaginable lust,” you read out loud. “‘A lust so powerful that it shall drive the cursed to pure madness within several days.’ Wait,” you paused, rereading the sentence, “Pure madness? I’ll go insane?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You’ll lose your mind and become a zombie basically. I’ve seen it, and it’s not pretty.”

“I mean, I have sex loads so it can’t be that bad…”

“Yes, it can and it is. It’ll start with just being horny a lot but you'll be able to manage, then it’ll turn into an obsession. The slightest suggestion will have you dripping for it,” he explained. “Then, it’ll slowly turn into an addiction. You’ll want it all the time, and probably do crazy shit trying to get it. By the end, you’ll want nothing but sex. You won’t know anything. You won’t be able to think straight, and you’ll never get your senses back. You won’t eat or sleep. You become a shell of who you were before.” He saw the dread filling your eyes, and said, “But, luckily there’s a cure for it.”

“And you happen to have it on you right now?”

“No, sadly not. Demon magic can’t be undone the normal way,” he said. “You’ll have to go to the demon who created the curse. Only they know the secret to lifting it.”

“Great,” you huffed, drinking more of the herbal potion, “Just great. Where would I even find them?”

“You’re in luck. Haeyoung told me everything she knew, since she hoped it might save her. He’s in The Crescent Mountains,” he answered. “She wouldn’t give me a name, but she told me they call him ‘The Dark Lord’.”

“The Dark Lord?” you scoffed, “Really? That’s what he calls himself?”

“It’s what people who’ve met him call him. She said nobody knows his real name.”

“A demon who lives in the coldest mountain range in the north? Oh yes, Namjoon, I’m so lucky. They’re on the other side of the damn kingdom. It’ll take me ages to get there! I’ll be a zombie by then!”

“Two weeks,” he said, “Which is more or less how long the curse takes until it consumes you. But, I found a captain that’ll take you straight there by boat. No detours. You’d be there within a week.”

“And this demon will just lift it for me?”

“Oh, no, he’ll definitely expect something in exchange. That's why I packed this for you.”

He placed a rucksack in front of you. When you opened it, you saw the usual supplies: packets of food, a water canteen, a first aid kit, matches, and a small lantern. But, you also found something large wrapped in velvet. Removing the black cloth, you realized it was a large grey stone. About the size of a baseball, you saw the crimson rune etched into the sides.

“It’s a runestone,” Namjoon explained as you studied the stone. “Demons collect these so they can improve their skills and weapons. This ‘Dark Lord’ will have a hard time saying no to this. Plus,” he smirked, “It might only sweeten the deal if you offered yourself up to him afterwards.”

“I think sex will be the last thing I want once he removes it.” You wrapped the runestone back up, and put it in the bag.

Namjoon hesitated, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Even after hearing his explanations, you still couldn’t fathom your fate. As Namjoon started ladling the rest of the potion into small vials, you played with the crystal still around your neck. Touching it brought a strange kind of comfort. You wished Hongjoong had been there last night. You wouldn’t have bothered with Vernon at all if Hongjoong had been there. You rubbed your thumb along the icy design, you envisioned the end result. You saw yourself walking slowly, groaning and moaning as you searched for any sort of stimulation. The curse itself made sense when you thought about it. Haeyoung already saw you as a worthless sex addict, so she picked a curse that would make you regret every decision you ever made.

“The boat leaves in an hour, so I suggest getting ready to move out,” he said, putting the vials in a small pouch. “I’ve packed some medicine for you. You’re going to feel a lot of the curse’s physical effects, and these can at least alleviate that.”

“Wait, you’re not coming?”

“I can’t,” he said. “I have a business to run and The Dark Lord will probably smite me the moment I get near his palace. You’ll be safe, YN,” he said gently, sitting on the bed next to you. “Captain Jin is a good guy. He won’t take advantage of your mental state like other men might.”

“What if I don’t make it in time?”

“You will. Just follow the directions on the map, and you’ll make it there in no time. Jin’s boat goes straight to the northern port, so you could just go through the little town there until you reach the mountain. Trust me, it won’t be hard to find. It’s pretty big.”

This didn’t make you feel better. As you started changing, you thought about this demon lord. In your head, you saw a massive, hulking figure with big black horns, red skin and sharp fangs. He’d find your predicament funny, no doubt, since he was the curse’s creator. He’d be sitting on some kind of throne, wearing nothing but a pair of pants to show off his bulging muscles, and expect you to “offer yourself” to him.

Perhaps by the time you meet him, you would.

*****

The little port town near Gold Rush sat on the eastern coastline. According to Namjoon, the mountain port was just upwards from there and would take at least a week. You hoped his timeline was correct as you said your farewells and made your way to town in a wagon. As you rode there in silence, fear started filling your stomach and twisting it around. You’d never left home before; you never had a reason. It’s the only place you’ve ever known, and now you are leaving to somewhere foreign and new. What if you didn’t make it to the port? What if the captain did take advantage of you? The thought of being underneath a sweaty, flabby figure made you gag.

However, Captain Kim Seokjin was anything but sweaty or flabby. He was tall with wide shoulders a girl could hang onto in any position; brown hair swooped over his dark eyes, which gave you a friendly glint when you approached.

“You must be YN,” he grinned, coiling rope around his large hands. “Namjoon told me you’d be joining me.”

His boat was a small, rickety thing with a canvas sail and fishing equipment. You guessed you’d be sleeping below, since you didn’t see anywhere else.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I need to get up north, and he said you’d be taking me there?”

“Yup,” he answered, holding out a hand, “Come aboard. I just finished getting stuff ready for our trip.”

As you stepped onto the boat, a loud ‘caw’ caught your attention. A crow sat perched on the cabin in the middle of the boat. Black eyes gazed at you from above, slightly flapping its wings as it moved around. It drew up a memory as you stared back. You’d been underneath Vernon, you think, enjoying his soft lips when you’d looked out the window. There’d been a crow there too. It didn't appear different from any other crow you'd seen, but the longer you looked at the bird, the more ominous it felt. The soothsayers who used to come through town during festival season said that crows were dark omens. Considering your upcoming trip, seeing the bird only worsened your feelings.

“Is he yours?” You asked Jin.

Jin looked up from the side of the boat to see the bird nearby. “Nope,” he answered, though seemed delightfully surprised nonetheless. “Crows aren’t really native to these parts. They’re more up north. You mostly get seagulls around here. Strange,” he dug into a sack nearby and fished out a small portion of sunflower seeds. “Here, buddy,” he said gently, cautiously putting the seeds down, “Have a snack.”

The bird did not flutter away or snap its beak at him. It only stared, then started pecking at the seeds. “He doesn’t seem…scared?” you said curiously. “Aren’t birds usually fidgety?”

“He might be domesticated,” Jin said, getting inside the cabin. “Now, let’s get going. The waters can get choppy around the northern parts, so we gotta tread carefully.”

You set your bag down by the crow, and watched him eat. From what Namjoon said, you expected to feel the urge to hump everything in sight. You thought you’d be aroused non-stop from the jump. That should’ve been the desired effect, surely. Yet, you felt nothing of the sort. For some reason, that worried you more. The sensation circled you like a shark looking for its prey. The thought taunted you in the back of your mind. You expected it to hit you at any moment.

It did hit you.

As day grew into night, Jin’s boat sailed past the coastline onto open water. He’d let you have the captain’s cabin, which was really just a small cot with a wash basin and dresser. The rocking waves moved the boat side to side, and it cradled you to sleep.

His hands were on you before you could comprehend anything. Soft fingers kneaded the flesh of your thighs, thumbs pressing to the inner sides as they slid to your center. You let out a faint gasp when one digit rubbed along your slit unexpectedly. Opening your eyes, you saw nothing in the cabin’s pitch black darkness. You could only hear his low, steady breaths as he continued feeling up your sex and thighs. He parted your legs easily, settling down on top of you as if you were made of glass. It couldn’t be Jin. This intruder was far slimmer, and his voice sounded higher. You smiled right away.

‘Hongjoong,’ his name fell from your lips in a soft breath.

‘I can’t wait to have you,’ he breathed in your ear, hands going from your thighs to your breasts. ‘To really have you.’

Warm lips caressed your neck, hot breath ghosting over your skin, and you melted. Your body suddenly became hypersensitive to his touch. Every light caress ignited the fires stirring inside your panties. Each kiss and lick brought out mewls that pleased your visitor. A sudden heat flared up around your neck to your cheeks as he kissed down to your chest. You realized then you wore nothing but your underwear. Smooth leather, crisp linen and rough denim brushed against your bare skin, creating a new friction that you needed. Thumbs rubbing over your nipples, soon he used his tongue to tease more cries out of you. No man ever took this much time with you. They always wanted to jump to “the best part”, which was you pleasuring them instead. Hongjoong never did that.

‘The gods really smiled on me when fate led me into that little brothel,’ he said in between soft suckles. ‘I’d never be here otherwise.’

Suddenly, his face was between your thighs and his tongue lashing your bare clit. You never felt anything like it before. His warm, slippery tongue easily circled your hard clit, flicking it until your back arched. He didn’t restrain you, only holding your thighs as you wriggled about on the bed.

‘So delicious,’ he groaned against your slick folds. ‘Exactly as I remember it. I can never get enough of you.’

Your mind spun with pleasure coursing through your body. Your fingers slipped into soft, silky waves and curls as you brought him closer. The lewd slurping sounds of him sucking your juices joined your constant moaning.

‘Hongjoong…’ his name escapes you in a soft sigh.

‘Be a good pet for me, and indulge in your mark. It’ll be worse for you if you don’t.'

“YN! YN, wake up!”

A pair of rough hands shook you awake, and reality broke through your dreams. The slight rocking that had lulled you to sleep had turned more violent. You noticed the porcelain wash basin laid on the floor in pieces, and your overheard lantern swung side to side in every wave. Jin stood above you, fear and panic widening his eyes, and he continued shaking you.

“Wha-what’s happening?” you asked groggily, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

“You gotta come help me,” he insisted, tossing your clothes at you. “This storm’s come out of nowhere. It’s bad. It’s…Just, come up and do what I say and we’ll make it out of here. Storms don’t last forever.”

Dressing proved to be difficult as the ship moved to the crashing waves. Through the small window, you saw nothing but the darkness and raindrops pounding the glass. Flashes of lightning were followed by roaring thunder, almost piercing your ears and making you tremble as you pulled on your jacket. Coming outside, Jin gave you a yellow raincoat to shield you from most of the pouring rain. It came down in hard sheets, filling the wooden boat before spilling out through holes in the sides. Boots sliding over wet floors, you followed Jin’s instructions to the letter. You knew nothing about boats, but you understood “pull that rope” and “push that lever”. It was harder than you imagined. The harsh waves and rain made it impossible to see. You couldn’t see anything past the dangling lights of Jin’s boat, the world around you shrouded in darkness. Only the lightning briefly illuminated the dark clouds rolling over you. It was hard to imagine an end to the madness.

“Brace yourself!” Jin called through the loud thunder, “A big one’s coming!”

You didn’t see the wave, but you certainly felt the boat tip upwards at a ninety-degree angle. Gravity pulled you downwards, and you grabbed tightly onto the main mast. A scream escaped you when you realized your feet left the ground and you dangled in the air. The sensation of falling backwards brought out more terror as your body and the boat capsized, plunging you into the icy cold water. Instinct told you to hold onto whatever oxygen you had as the rolling waves tossed you this way and that. You’d die like this. You were going to drown. Your eyes opened, and you sorely wished they hadn’t.

In the darkness of the sea, you saw glowing eyes. Bright gold, they blinked at you from the abyss. You screamed, desperately trying to get away to the surface. The figure swam closer, unbothered by the water as something slimy wrapped around your ankles and dragged you-not down-but sideways. You continued kicking and grasping at the water, your chest caving as your last breath left you. The creature carried you along gently, its tentacle keeping a firm grip but not so much it broke bones. Instinct kicked in once more and your mouth opened. Gallons of water filled your lungs as you soared through the ocean, salt burning your throat and tongue.

Namjoon never said elements might kill you before the curse did.

Though, right before you reached death, the creature flung you out of the water. Your body carried weightless through the air, more rain pelting you, and you crashed right onto something solid. Then, everything went black.

****

A/N: ooof, YN's going to be going on a very interesting journey! Hope you all stick around for the ride!

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #pirateeznet #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #hongjoong ateez #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x fem reader #hongjoong x yn

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