#like that there was no mention of his ego or whatever even though having to run would mess with anyone's ego a bit. I'm sure he would've
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he's going to be fighting a bunch of these things on his own, huh?
#wednesday spoilers#I don't think anyone really likes the im2-ish plot regarding h*ward but then duggan did warn us that he wanted to expand on whatever#happened in hickman's shield run so that's a thing that's happening now I guess.... I just hope he wraps it up quickly#emma was pretty annoying in this issue imo like idk if she's genuinely underestimating feilong or just not letting some things on due to#her being on the council etc. but it's probably going to backfire badly. I liked that tony & sunfire interacted though it's been a while I#think. I don't really know what to say about the h*ward stuff except that I liked that tony didn't become emotional or lose his head when#he was mentioned & he also didn't say anything nice about him so that's fine I guess...#I like that while he won pretty easily in the last issue the sentinel is clearly extremely powerful & tony was outgunned & retreated and I#like that there was no mention of his ego or whatever even though having to run would mess with anyone's ego a bit. I'm sure he would've#fought it anyway if it endangered anyone else but since it didn't he didn't fight a losing battle for whatever reason which shouldn't be#surprising but considering the quality of a lot of his previous runs it's nice#this issue wasn't as strong as the last one imo & I wish the stark employees resigned in protest the way they always did in the past#although it hasn't been his company for a while & usually when they resigned it was about tony and that one dude was clearly unhappy about#what was happening so maybe we'll see something in later issues? idk#I could've used a lot less h*ward but then I was expecting him to come up plus I'm glad it's happening now & not during cantwell's run#I'm pretty excited for the next issue since it's a flashback to the wca/silver centurion era... overall I think the characterisation is#still pretty good so I'll just hold on to that#iron man#marvel 616#tony stark
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âyou know what would put a victorian child into a coma?â
rin sighs at the question that comes out of your mouth. it doesnât surprise him, though. years of dating you, heâs learned to be used with your random questions like this once in a while. but he is your boyfriend, is he not? and as a boyfriend, he supposes heâs expected to humor you.
âwhat?â
âthat one video of you from the u-20 match.â
now, he certainly wasnât expecting that. the video of him from what now? his attention shifts from the soccer match playing on the tv to you sitting beside him on the couch, your head laid on his shoulder and his arm loosely hanging around your waist.
âwhat video?â what are you talking about? rin wasnât even aware that the match between blue lock and japanâs u-20 was broadcasted live. you were there, he made sure of it. he even walked up to ego himself and demanded that you get sent a ticket. so heâs sure that you saw the game wholly but.. what video are you talking about?
âyou know, that video.â you emphasized, as if that gave him a whole lot of clues to work with.
âyou have to elaborate on that, babe.â
âthat thing in the second half. where you were basically catapulting through every player on the field with your tongue hanging out.â
oh. that. rin scrunched his nose at the memory.
âyeah, you never really told me what happened there.â you hold his hand as you speak, silently letting him know that whatever you say isnât meant to trigger him in any way. he once mentioned in passing about how he felt during the u-20 match.
âyou were very cool, not gonna lie. very very awesome. but like.. your tongue hanging out? uhm.. i got the ickâ ow! rin!â
the hand that was once in your palms is now holding your face hostage. rinâs fingers dig into your cheeks, not so much that itâll leave a mark but enough that your voice comes out muffled as you protest.
âyou talk too much.â he snarls.
âyou like it when i talk.â
âdo i? thatâs a debatable claim.â
âyou love me, though.â
âunfortunately.â
likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist
#tim writes.#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk#bllk imagines#blue lock imagines#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin#itoshi brothers#itoshi rin fluff#itoshi rin imagines#itoshi rin x reader#rin fluff#rin x reader#rin x you#rin bllk#bllk rin#rin blue lock#bllk x you
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control
(forever? pt 2)
pairing: mob!bucky barnes x fem!reader (arranged marriage)
summary: after a rough night with bucky, you wake up alone and get some frustrating news from your beloved husband
warnings: reader is insecure/doubts, not eating for 24 hours (out of protest), kind of controlling bucky, violence, if i missed anything, please let me know!
w/c: 2.7k+
a/n: hiii! this is the second part that was in high demand after i posted forever? i hope y'all like it! this has been sitting in my drafts for what feels like forever and i finally have had a chance to share it with you all! i hope it's worth the wait :)
part 3 -> the story
you woke up alone, just like every morning in the past two months with the exception of the smell of his cologne only a whisper on your bedsheets.��
maybe you shouldnt have expected anything else from him. he had just felt bad about what happened, about making you cry, thatâs all. he couldnât have you running out on the deal that was made. he just had to save face. it was all businessâŚ
there was another knock on the door. two days in a row, which was rather surprising.Â
opening the door, you come face to face with buckyâs right hand man, steve. his kind blue eyes shone with a hint of remorse, likely knowing at least a bit of what happened last night from his boss.
âhi,â you smiled, your hand remaining on the doorknob.
âhey,â his eyes examined your face, probably to report back to bucky on how you were doing. as if he couldnât check on you himself. âare you hungry?â
you turn around to look at the clock that reads 12:30.
âi didnât realize how late it was,â you shook your head as he chuckled.Â
âyou probably needed the rest afterâŚâ he inhaled a sharp breath. âanyway, bucky wants you to head up to the office. told me to make sure you ate too.â
why couldnât he show you how caring he was?
maybe thatâs why he left so early⌠because he had stuff in the office to take care of. that was what your mind would assume to save your own ego, at least.Â
he took you by a mom and pop diner around the corner from their office, let you eat as many waffles and pieces of bacon as your heart desired until he discreetly paid the bill and then you made your way to the office to meet with your husband.Â
stopping outside his door, you heard his voice ringing angry and raging.Â
âi said to find him. i donât care if you have to work all day and night to do it. iâm gonna find out where he is. nobody touches whatâs mine and gets away with it.â
was he talking about you? or was he talking about another one of his many possessions or assets. either way, with the tone he was talking about everything, even if he was talking about you, he made it seem as though you were merely an object that was in his trophy case. if he was looking for john in order to reprimand him, it was likely to send a message to everyone else that dared look at him. to ensure they didnât see him as weak.
he would never do anything for you out of the kindness of his heart, surely.
âdo whatever needs to be done. end of discussion.â you heard a dial tone end, followed by steve knocking on the door.Â
âglad you made it safely,â bucky nodded towards steve before glancing at your form tucked behind him. âhowâre you feelinâ?â you shrugged.Â
âfine, i guess.â
âthank you, steve,â seemingly dismissing steve, he left the room promptly. âi wanted to talk with you about something.â you remained quiet; he sighed before continuing. âiâve made some arrangements to get you your own personal bodyguard, for when iâm not around to ensure your safety. they would be âround the clock unless approved otherwise or when iâm available to be around you.â
âso i would be watched 24/7?â you finally piped up. âlike a child?â you voice was still meek as you mentioned your objection.
âitâs for your safety.â he stepped closer to you, not missing the way your body tensed at the movement. âso that something like what happened last night doesnât happen again,â his jaw tensed, seemingly at the mention of what happened.Â
so someone doesnât touch his precious trophy again, you thought to yourself.Â
âiâm a grown woman. i barely even leave the house, and you think i need more surveillance?â your brows furrowed together as you shrunk into yourself, your shoulders deflating at the thought of losing even more of yourself to this marriage.Â
âit happened at our house,â bucky reminded you.
âit happened with you right around the corner, too. yâmight as well have a drone following me around at that point,â you scoffed quietly. âwhat? next i wonât be able to shower by myself.â
âif thatâs what it takes to ensure your safety, then thatâs whatâll happen.â there was no playfulness or sarcasm in his tone.
âi was joking, you canât be serious,â you looked at him, feeling stubborn tears beginning to well in your eyes.Â
âdeadly,â he assured you, his brows raised and his serious tone piercing your heart. âwhatever it takes.â
you shook your head as you turned to the door. âno.â
your hand reached the doorknob before he added, âi was running this by you as a courtesy. not to get your permission.â
you froze in your steps, turning to him with a questioning look. a couple tears finally broke free from the dam before you responded, âthen what was the point?â with that, you walked out of his office, turning to steve. âis it you?â after seeing the tears streaking your face, the choked sobs leaving your throat, he looked to the ground in defeat. you had your answer. and bucky had your freedom in his hand.Â
you really were just a device for him at this point. you play the part of a loving, devoted wife while he probably does whatever he pleases to maintain his image to the public.Â
you understood that their businesses were in the public eye and that the news of a finance business being absorbed how it was would draw a lot of attention, but nothing made sense right now. he was being so serious about it all. 24/7 surveillance, a fucking bodyguard⌠for a finance business merge. it was disheartening, to say the least.
itâs not like you had a say in the matter, anyway. so, steve escorted you safely from the premises back to your gated house, where you locked yourself in your room for the rest of the night.Â
you didnât open the door when he tried to ask what you wanted for dinner, or when he tried to give you a sandwich.Â
you didnât even open the door when bucky tried to knock himself once he got home at 11p.m.
or in the morning when they tried to give you breakfast.
or at noon when steve insisted on lunch.
âitâs been almost 24 hours since youâve eaten,â steve sighed from the other side of the door as you sat at your desk, pen doodling meaningless lines in your notebook as you stared at the blank word document. âbuckyâs not gonna be happy if he finds out you havenât been eating or talking or⌠anything. you know i have to tell him.â
and you stayed quiet.Â
if he wanted a polite little trophy wife, he would get one. but last time trophy wives were a thing was in the 40s, and they werenât really allowed to say much, so you figured youâd follow suit.Â
kind of like your own version of a peaceful protest.Â
apparently bucky wasnât very happy about that.Â
he showed up knocking on your door not 20 minutes after steve tried to insist on lunch again. at least he wasnât busting the door down, much to your surprise.
âitâs bucky, but iâm sure youâve figured that out,â his voice rang with a certain softness he had with you only two nights ago. âi told steve to go for a little walk so i could talk with you. i was hoping youâd maybe respond?â he tried to open the door, finding it remained locked. âsweetheart, please just eat something. you havenât even had water since yesterday. you know you have to drink something.âÂ
you suppose it would look pretty bad for him if his dear wife went to the hospital for dehydration, or starvation for that matter. has the bucky barnes been treating his wife as less than? or has he simply forgotten about his wife? perhaps sheâs a weak point for him?Â
although he probably wouldnât admit you to the hospital, heâd probably hire someone to come to the house themselves, sworn to secrecy of some sort.Â
you heard rustling on the other side of the door, not footsteps, more like clothing being rustled followed by a thump. his voice rang out lower on the door when he spoke, âi know youâre not happy about having a bodyguard. i understand, i do. you think your freedom is being tarnished and threatened and this is you trying to control what little you can because of that.â
how can he act like he knows you so well? the man who made it seem as though the marriage would be at least a partnership before the words âi doâ were uttered. after the honeymoon a flip mustâve been switched in his brain, telling him you were a little toy for him rather than the partner you had agreed to be.
but, after plenty of time to think, youâve come to realize that you were being rather selfish. as much as you wanted your freedom. you wanted to stick it to the man and tell him that you deserved respect, because you did.Â
you also had a duty to your family, to keep them safe. being in this marriage was the only way to do that. and if any questions arose, like buckyâs care for you, then your family would be in danger.Â
with a click, you unlocked the door. he mustâve heard it because he slowly opened the door and took a step inside your room, a few feet from you.
âiâm sorry,â you looked at the collar of his suit rather than his eyes. âiâve been acting rash and immature. i apologize for that.â
âi didnât-â
âi wonât question your authority again,â you were picking at your nails. âi understand that you need steve to make sure nobody harms me to maintain your image. i respect that. i respect your decision.â
you couldnât bare to look at his face. your gaze shifted to the floor as he began to nod.Â
âdoes that mean youâll eat something?â you nodded, chewing on your lower lip before responding.Â
âiâm sorry for taking time away from your business,â you moved the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ears, doing anything you could to distract yourself. âi now how valuable your time is.â
âyouâre more valuable than all the time i have,â he took a step closer to you before you felt his index finger and thumb gently holding your chin, nudging your head up to look him in the face. âdo you understand?â his blue eyes were full of emotion, a mix of them, at that. if you squinted it was almost like there were tears building at the corners of his eyes. but you werenât squinting anymore. you saw the full picture quite clearly with your eyes wide open.Â
âi understand,â you nodded curtly.
you did understand.
you understood that he had an image to maintain. that image, for you and your family, was for him to be a devoted, loving husband to his equally loving and devoted wife.Â
his image is his reputation, and no money in the world could buy the reputation he has.Â
he let go of your chin, cupping the sides of your face before he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, âi brought your favorite with me. steveâs warmed it up in the microwave for when youâre ready for it. just⌠eat whatever you can. if youâre still hungry iâd gladly go and grab some more for you.â
âarenât you going back to the office?â you, voluntarily this time, looked into his eyes with furrowed brows.Â
âno, my love,â he shook his head before dropping his hands from your face. âi told them i needed to spend the rest of the day with my wife.â
of course. if steve knew about last night, people at the office probably did too. it would look pretty lousy if he didnât look after his wife after an incident like that.Â
âoh,â you nodded as you broke eye contact once more. âthat sounds nice.â
you followed him downstairs, where steve had already set your food aside for you to start on. not eating for so long truly did affect you more than you thought. you didnât even realize how hungry you were, finishing the entire meal in less than 15 minutes.Â
bucky was sitting beside you, eating his own food as he made sure you ate and drank, and noticed when you made a happy plate, and cup, might he happily add.Â
âwanna go get some more now?â he let his hand float to your hair, raking through your messy locks with a smile growing at the corner of his lips.Â
âno, thatâs okay,â you shook your head, not wawnting to bother him more than necessary.Â
âif youâre still hungry, then thatâs not okay,â you looked to see him shaking his head, his eyes fixed on the dining room table. âcâmon,â he stood from the table, holding his hand out for you to take. âweâre going to get sâmore food.â
âwill we be going alone?â you let your eyes gravitate to where steve stood in the corner of the room, having not been dismissed by bucky yet.Â
âsteve,â bucky called him over. âyou can go home now. iâve got her. thank you.â he released him from his duties. ânow will you come with me?â
you took a second to think. maybe he was a controlling asshole, but what he was doing was for your safety, whether you agreed with it or not. âokay,â you nodded, figuring it was also best you went along with whatever he said. he seemed to get whatever he wanted anyways. âcan we just go through a drive through somewhere?â
âif thatâs what you wantâŚâ he nodded, surprisingly agreeing to your proposal. âwhere to?â
â... mcdonalds?â you suggested once more.
âof course, my love,â he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, oddly affectionate since nobody was around. âwhen we get back iâll arrange hiring a chef for you, as well. i wonât have you going hungry if i can help it.â
âyou donât have to-â
âi will.âÂ
you knew better than to argue. you wouldnât poke the bear if you could help it. sure, heâs told you he wouldnât hurt you. you were his wife and if news came out that he had hurt his wife in any way, his reputation would be threatened.Â
you couldnât help but remember every warning your friends told you about going into a relationship with this man. warnings about being on your toes, watching your back, never letting your guard down.Â
in your mind, this was just one more reason you wouldnât have to leave the house. another little piece of freedom taken from you in a roundabout sense.Â
âokay,â you nodded, accepting your fate as someone who would eventually be trapped in their house forever.
he took you through the drive through at mcdonaldâs, getting you whatever you wanted and an oreo mcflurry. on the way home, eating the mcflurry before it melted, it was a silent ride. and not a very comfortable one, probably due to your suspicions about him wanting to control you.Â
maybe him controlling you wouldnât be so bad⌠he was kind to you, provided for you, made sure you didnât want for anything. but with that, went a lot of your heart, freedom, and control. Â
TAGS:
@nefri-black
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fluff#james bucky barnes#marvel#bucky barnes smut#sargeant barnes#bucky barnes au#bucky au#sargeant bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes#mob bucky barnes#mob!bucky#mafia au#mafia bucky barnes#mafia bucky x reader#mafia bucky x you
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impressing you!
itoshi rin attempts to tell you he likes you in questionable ways
itoshi rin x reader : fluff, crack, use of brain rot terms, dti mentioned, super bad ending iâm so sorry idk anymore school got me, not proofread + likes and reblogs are appreciated <3
growing up with itoshi rin with all his personality quirks, you were pretty sure you could expect anything and everything from him - whether that be him showing up at your house at midnight without any warnings, or him wearing your hello kitty pajamas after school for âfunâ, or even eating frozen cheese straight out of the fridge for breakfast. but nothing could prepare you for what the hell he just asked you.
âwhat.â one chance for him to take back, or more so one chance for you to regain back your sanity from whatever you just swore to god he asked.
â.. i asked if youâd like to play dress to impress together.. you know because youre always playing it during class.â what the hell.
maybe the world was ending, and you look outside only to now be even more dismayed that the sun is in fact shining, the sky is perfectly blue, and there was no cloud in sight. then maybe this was all a dream after spending the previous night playing games, you pinch yourself and to your horror, you do in fact feel the pain as you nip at your own hand, almost yelping to the oblivious rin sitting beside you. or maybe your eyesight is failing you and youâre seriously deluding yourself that its rin simply after being apart from him for months, you think, removing your glasses and wiping it and nope - that was in fact rin, still wearing a blank face that youre far too used to.
âdo you even have a roblox account..â you were 100% sure that whatever horror games youâve seen him play does not involve roblox and heâs probably more likely to be a discord mod than a roblox player - credited to you friending him on steam and seeing the horror of games he has bought on that app
â.. ill make one now.â and you think maybe blue lock has actually rotted rinâs mind or maybe his friends there has corrupted the rin you once knew.
and instead of spending your math class, you know paying attention and doing the work assigned, there you were at the back row playing dress to impress with itoshi rin attempting his best but clearly not dressing to impress anyone to say the least.
and maybe this is a miracle and an awakening because you were so sure since a little kid that itoshi rin, your best friend in this entire world, do not have any weakness - whether that be in sports (for obvious reasons), in arts (getting an A even though he âwinged itâ), in games (carried you in shooting games and horror games) that maybe youâve finally discovered his achilles heels that is apparently fashion.. and handling getting humbled by kids on roblox.
âwhy the hell is this kid calling my outfit skibidi toiletâ if anything, in your honest reaction, youâd call me something worst than that looking at the total mess of a outfit he was wearing because why the hell is he wearing two hairs at once that do not merge at all. in fact, youâd be polite to even call whatever heâs just made an outfit in the first place because it looks like he genuinely spun a wheel and picked pieces at random.
even funnier is that you can practically see rinâs ear letting out steam - clearly upset that heâs apparently not winning the top place. if anything, you think its funnier because he doesnt even rage like this playing his competitive shooting game, or when he doesnt get a good grade for his exams, or even when he drops his ice cream when you were little, only when he plays soccer and apparently dress to impress. now maybe with his ego, or whatever he said learnt at blue lock, would be able to let him score a goal (win top place with a good outfit)
however, to his dismay, and to your expectation, he in fact does not win top places, not even top 3, by the end of the hour long math lesson.
and to him, he practically just lost the first tip that bachira told him and as he quotes âif you like someone youâve got to like have shared interest right?â and clearly and unfortunately he just cannot get into dress to impress in the same way that you just arenât really interested in football which he completely gets. but now heâs in doubt about his own situation and by that he means the love test percentage thing he was convinced to take by again bachihara - failing at a whooping 15% that he was meant to be your soulmate. but if thereâs something heâs good at, its perseverance and he will not give up just because multiple kids in the game called him skibidi toilet
and right now he thinks hes absolutely down bad and he is only proving the allegations that he really has a crush on you when hes spending time after football practice to play dress to impress. even worse, hes looking up online guides on âcheatsheetsâ to get outfits, entering millions of codes to unlock hidden items, spending the entire night playing this game.
and of course, its at 4:30am when you log in only to find one person playing dress to impress and youre pretty sure this is the equivalant to a sleep paralysis demon as you blink all the sleep away in your eyes to confirm the words in front of you: itoshi rin is playing dress to impress in the middle of the night. more specifically, itoshi rin who preaches about taking care of ones body by sleeping early, eating all three meals, doing yoga every single day is ruining his sleep scheuldue for a roblox game. and as all sleep deprived people do, you send him a message to confirm that its in fact him and not a hacker.
chat
you: r u playing dti or have u not logged out of dti since class đđ
rin: playing
you: R U ACTLLY INTO DRESS TO IMPRESS⌠who r u impressing đđťđđť
rin: you
and you feel your heart stop - and not because of caffeine, or another realisation that yoive forgotten to do your work right in class or winning a lucky draw from the ice cream you share with rin. but then the realisation hits and youre now instead let down because of course sleep deprived him would say such words that unfortunately made your heart pump because of all the years youâve known him, you know that whenever he doesnt sleep well, he always becomes a different person, spouting nonsense about everything and anything as all the logic that heâs so used to melts away from his brain. and so you without thinking close your phone and leave itoshi rin on read.
and maybe its even worse that when you wake up, you realise rin sends you the number of stars heâs collected over his overnight grind thatâs somehow more than the amount youâve gathered throughout the weeks of playing dress to impress and even funnier because heâs clearly texting the wrong person.
chat
rin: (1 attachement)
rin: is this a good rank bachiara
rin: should i check if mine n y/nâs soulmate on that love website increased
you: shld be 100%
rin: from 15%?
you: iâm more accurate than it btw r u still on dti
rin: ?
rin: oh ignore
you: no lets play tgt actlly vote me 5* i need to have more stars than u
and you canât wait to go to math class to play dress to impress with rin at the back of the class (spoiler alert: he won all the rounds somehow) now dating (he gives you five stars)
#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#rin x reader#rin.<3#itoshi rin fluff#bllk fluff#i want to play dress to impress so bad but exams r preventing me from doing so#need someone to boost me by falsely voting me five stars every round hiiii
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⥠ď˝ď˝
ď˝
ď˝ď˝
ď˝ď˝ ďź°ď˝ď˝
âĄ
⥠Pairing: sex worker!mingyu x chubby!fem!sex worker!reader
⥠Genre: smut/fluff
⥠Word Count: 3.2k-ish
⥠Summary: While spending the weekend at a mansion in the Hollywood Hills, a risky late night comment of yours draws the attention of your crush who happens to be in the same city and wants to see if you're all talk or about that action.
⥠Warnings: you're both spicy content creators, drinking, unprotected sex, Gyu's dick is kinda really huge, size kink for sure, stretching, riding, rough sex, doggystyle, clit play, ass slapping, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating/swallowing, dirty talk, switch Gyu/reader
⥠A/N: I usually put a sweet artistic statement in this space but I don't have a sweet artistic statement. I have a hot girl playlist and Mingyu's existence which is exactly how we ended up here. It's Mingyu, for the love of goddess, can you blame me?
This was never where you thought youâd end up. When you joked with your best friend, a successful OnlyFans girl, about starting one if your job kept working your nerves you hadnât imagined actually doing it. Yet here you are, 8 months after that tipsy girlâs night, with a hefty following on social media and enough subscribers to never have to set foot in that job ever again.Â
Like any other job it has its ups and downs but having your best friend there to help you navigate it early on makes it feel like lightwork now. Plus itâs so easy to ignore your haters when your bank accountâs as stacked as it is.
For the first time in your life itâs optional to check pricetags, you can literally have whatever you want. Some things you donât even have to pay for, theyâre just dropped in your lap simply because you are who you are.Â
Thatâs precisely how you scored yourself a weekend at this million dollar home in the Hollywood Hills. Youâd passively mentioned during a custom video for one of your fans how hot you found it that he owned so much property.
âIâve never played with my pussy in a mansion beforeâ you pouted cutely, a vibrator whirling away inside you on its lowest setting. It wasnât hint dropping as much as you wanted to stroke his ego but he took it as a chance to impress you, offering you a getaway at one of his places while he went on vacation for business.Â
Youâd be doing him a favor, he insisted, because he hated to leave the place empty for so long. The ego boost was more than enough compensation on his part that he didnât feel like you owed him anything. Good because as a rule you do not fuck customers. You donât even do content with other people in your industry. Everythingâs solo. Always.
âShow us the top but offâ you giggle, reading through the comments on your Instagram live. You do a quick spin, showing off your barely there bikini top. âThere it is but itâs not coming off. You guys are gonna get me banned.âÂ
You only arrived a few hours ago and, exhausted from travel, decided that youâd rather spend the night in the jacuzzi out back than venture out to some crowded bar. This weekend is about relaxation after all and whatâs more relaxing than sipping champagne in this warm bubbling water under the starry night sky?
It began to feel a little lonely though, youâre so used to having your best friend with you on these trips, so you decided to prop your phone up on the edge of the hottub and go live for a little bit.Â
Reading through the comments, you get caught up in conversation about a million random topics. Thereâs suggestions for the best restaurants in LA, debates over if aliens are real or not, and even a quick KPop Smash or Pass game before someone brings you to a topic that has your heart thumping harder than an EDM festival.
Your rule on sleeping with other creators is a hard âNoâ, this everyone already knows, but when it comes to one man in particular that ruleâs nonexistent.Â
100_karat_xo Gyu saw your retweet đ youngxkwonskitty Heâs coming over here aaaaaah!!!
You nearly choke on your next sip of champagne, watching the chat go wild as the memory of a recent drunken retweet hits you like a wrecking ball.
Your introduction to who Kim Mingyu was had been innocent enough. You were scrolling your feed one night and saw a video of a bunch of guys dancing. They were just fucking around really but they were genuinely talented and hot as hell so you had to do a little independent research to figure out who they were.Â
Mingyu was the one who caught your eye the most with his beautifully tanned skin and a face so gorgeous it hurts to look at. It only worsened the situation when you stumbled upon his spicy account and found out he had the deadly combo of a body Greek gods would envy and a cock thatâd have you walking funny for days. Who needs to walk straight anyway? You followed him on everything immediately, nearly died when he followed you back, and itâs been non stop flirting since.Â
The two of you even ran into each other at a few parties where things would almost get hot and heavy but never ventured beyond a cute little makeout session. Itâs painfully obvious both of you want something more though.
The most recent evidence came when Mingyu posted a video of himself seated in a chair facing a mirror wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. No shirt, nothing under the pants, just that muscular sunkissed chest and a mouthwatering dick print.Â
You were weak in the knees from the sight of that alone but when his hand started moving in his lap, his palm smoothing over the long, thick print, you went feral. Mingyuâs caption asked, âWho does this belong to?â and the shots of Soju in your system that night had you responding, âMe!â before you could think better of it. That was a week ago and you mustâve pushed it to the back of your mind because you havenât thought about it since. But Mingyu has.Â
âComing over here? What do you mean?â you ask, slinking down into the water as if itâll somehow make you invisible. You get your answer immediately when a familiar name appears in the chat.Â
dongangu.daddy Hey beautiful
âMingyu! Stop! What are you doing here?â you squeal, a hand thrown over your mouth to hide the uncontrollable smile his arrival brings to your face. As if thereâs a way to conceal how giddy you are over this man. Two words from him and your whole aura changes. You were glowing before but now youâre radioactive.
jeonghanssimp95 my worlds collide omfg _horanghaeheaux_ Can you both marry me?
dongangu.daddy has requested to join
Your eyes widen at Mingyuâs request, not expecting to be put on the spot like this. Itâs not that you donât want to see him. Youâd look at that face every day if you couldâbeside you, on top of you, under youâbut youâre mortified of swooning over him in front of this many people.Â
Finally deciding that your retweet did all it could do to expose you for being down bad for Mingyu, you dry your hands on a nearby towel and accept his request. Another screen pops up below yours. Thereâs some darkness at first, a few seconds of shuffling, and then Mingyuâs displayed in all of his bare chested glory.Â
âWhy do you look like youâve seen a ghost?â he teases, shifting to a more comfortable position in bed. Of course he had to be shirtless. Of course he had to be in bed. Fuck your sanity.Â
Your brain has to shake off a five second delay before you can answer. âYou just got on and already youâre picking on me. Iâm about to revoke your privileges, sir.â
Mingyu laughs off your comment, confident that youâre bluffing. You are. âNo, donât do that. Iâm sorryâ he pouts, raking his fingers through his short dark hair, âI just expected you to be happier to see me.â
âI am happy to see you but you canât come on my live talking your shit.â
âI thought you liked it when I talk my shitâ he smiles, recalling all of the X rated texts youâve exchanged over the past few months.Â
You shrug, mindlessly twirling your hair, âTalking is cute buuut actions are better.âÂ
The true meaning of âactionâ is clear for you both. Mingyuâs wanted action with you from day one, spam liking your posts the moment he saw that you followed him. You had the prettiest face, the sweetest smile, and your body was so soft and plush he couldnât stop fantasizing about getting his hands on you. You were even more irresistible in person and that knowledge has had him on a mission to make you his ever since. A mission heâs not willing to give up on easily.
âAction? I can do that. I heard youâre in LAâ he says, the white sheet around him falling away as he sits up in bed, âI am too. If you arenât busy, maybe we could see each other tonight.â
âOh, y-you wanna see me? And do what?â you stutter, going in for another nervous sip only to find that the glass is empty. You were not prepared to be this thirsty for a drink or for him.Â
Mingyu tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes flicking down to take in what he can of your figure peeking out from the water. His heart begins to race, his cock stiffening at the way your lush breasts bob above the surface, droplets of water decorating your cleavage like diamonds.Â
âYou tell me, babe. What do you wanna do?âÂ
His question soaks your bikini bottoms with a new type of moisture, your pulse already racing. What do you wanna do? With Kim Mingyu? What donât you wanna do?Â
âGyu, aaah, fuck. Itâs soâŚsoâŚmmmâ you whine, sinking lower onto Mingyuâs cock.
Your fingers trace his abs, your pink and blue ombre acrylics nicking his skin as your pussy relaxes to take the next inch of his cock. Youâd seen it in pictures, even felt his bulge once or twice in person, but having him inside of you? Nothing couldâve prepared you for this stretch or for how full youâd feel after only a few inches. Thereâs still a couple more to go and youâre already shaking like youâre ready to cum.Â
âKeep going, baby. Youâre taking it so wellâ he praises, hands cradling your hips to help you take him at your own pace.
He isnât in a rush to fuck you. That was never an intention of his. Mingyuâs more than pleased to lay here with you in bed, your fluffy thighs snug around his waist, and enjoy the view from below. And what a view it is. The faces you make are too cute for words. They make him want to hold you close and protect you from the rest of the world. At the same time, theyâre the sexiest thing heâs ever seen. And, coupled with those little whines of yours, they give him the ravenous urge to fuck your brains out. Every last cell.Â
âDonât wanna wait anymoreâ you moan, leaning back with your arms behind you, palms resting on his legs. âI need it all.âÂ
He smooths his hands down your thighs and back up again, âAnything for you.âÂ
One thrust of his hips and youâre seeing stars. Mouth wide open. Eyes watering. Itâs the fullest youâve ever felt and you can only piece together a string of broken moans as your body adjusts to the new sensation.Â
Mingyu smiles up at you, beaming with pride at what heâs done to you. âToo much for you?â he teases, his thumb stroking a solitary tear away from your cheek.Â
You shake your head, never the kind of girl to reject a challenge. Breathing in deep, you steady yourself, raising your hips and slowly lowering them back down in a motion that has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.Â
âOh god, fuckâ he groans not just at how perfectly your walls hug him and not just at you being wet enough to make that hottub outside look like the desert. Every move you make hits the perfect spot, your body titled at the exact angle required to make him feel like youâre stealing his soul straight from his body.
Keeping your pace, you lean forward and lick your way up his abs, sprinkling kisses across his chest. Mingyu can pretend that it doesnât tickle in a way he likes much more than he thought he would but his bodyâs a dead giveaway. His muscles contract beneath your kisses, his length pulsing against your walls. You can almost hear his heart pounding through his chest.Â
âToo much for you?â you taunt, smiling up at him, your walls purposefully clenching even tighter around his cock.Â
Mingyu bites his lip, staring down at you like a meal heâs prepared to devour. The fire in his eyes makes your heart jump. Teasing him back has consequences and you can tell youâre about to suffer them.Â
âNah, I want moreâ he growls and two strong arms close around your body, one at your back and the other at your waist. Keeping you flush against his chest, he spreads his legs and buries himself even deeper into your needy core. If you thought you were seeing stars before, there's galaxies now.Â
Mingyu holds you like he loves you, cradling you gently while he fucks you like he hates you, and with your arms pinned to your sides all you can do is take it. Waves of heat wash over your figure, the tingling of your nipples brushing his chest sending sparks through your system. Thereâs no talking back now, only fragments of his name rolling from your tongue.Â
âM-minâŚâ you whine, crumbling as the thick head of his cock bumps your sweet spot. You can feel his warm precum leaking into you, mixing with your arousal to make every movement all the smoother.Â
âM-minâ he coos, reaching a hand up to brush away the hair sticking to your pretty face, âHaving a hard time talking back, sweetheart?â
Your eyes are hypnotizing on a regular day but he must admit that thereâs something special about seeing them so dazed and glossed over all for him. He grabs the back of your neck with just the right amount of pressure, lifting you away from him enough that he shifts angles inside of you. Itâs such a small change in position but itâs more than enough to have you squirming, mindlessly rocking your hips against his.Â
âI didnât know I had such a greedy girl on my handsâ he says, tracing your jaw with feathery kisses. In a split second the roomâs spinning on its head and you find yourself face down on the sheets with your arms held behind your back.
Mingyu slaps your ass and the sting gets you up on shaky knees. He doesnât even need to tell you what he wants because you want it too. Teasing his cock at your entrance, he takes his time savoring the way that your juices drip all over him, your pussy already clenching in anticipation.
He runs the head along your slit, dipping it up to roll across that perky little clit of yours. He keeps you like this so long youâre drooling onto the pillow, clenching and dripping down his length and he isnât even inside of you yet.Â
Not one to be outdone, you drop your hips down, slipping him right up to your entrance. You sink back on him an inch or so, popping his head right inside of you. You hear a sharp inhale and feel his body give out on him for a second. You move your hips in a circular motion, teasing him with the sight of you stretching yourself open with his cock.
âI thought you said you wanted moreâ you giggle, shaking your ass in the cutest way.Â
Mingyu slaps it again, gripping your hips, âSo she can still speak. We gotta change that.â
He slams into you and you cry out at the force of his thrust. The aftershock has your body humming but thereâs no time to soak it in. Mingyu doesnât stop, doesnât let up even a little bit. Heâs feral for you. Already addicted to the feeling of you wrapped around him.Â
Keeping your wrists pinned, he reaches around to massage your clit, and your knees almost give out. He catches you before you can collapse, keeping you right where he wants you. Gripping the pillow, you bite down hard, screaming as loud as you want into the soft cotton while he deep strokes you to the brink of insanity.Â
Itâs not long before a familiar feelingâs tugging at your stomach. Youâre like a bottle of champagne, all shaken up and ready to pop. Mingyu rubs your bud faster, kissing the small of your back, âYou gonna cum for me, baby? Hmm?â
Your body answers before your words can, jiggling in all the right places while you cum harder than you ever have. The clench and release of your walls as you gush down your own thighs drags him closer to his own high but heâs not ready yet. He has to keep thrusting into you, playing with your pussy until your bodyâs spent.Â
For a moment it seems as if heâs achieved his goal. Reeling from your high, your whole body gives into the mattress and youâre stuck there, letting out the sweetest whines with his cock still inside of you. But that momentâs fleeting and in a few seconds youâre back up on your knees, whipping around to take his cock into your mouth.Â
You donât hesitate to take all of it into your mouth, not gagging once as you rub it against the back of your throat. If the gasps and moans coming from overhead are any indication, your tongue wrapped around his cock has him wrapped around your finger. You feel around blindly until you find his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. Your tongue traces the veins of his shaft, feeling the blood rush to the head throbbing at the back of your throat.Â
The taste of your mixed arousal floods your senses as it drips from the corners of your perfectly pursed lips. You sneak a peek up at him. That gorgeous face. Those muscles dripping with sweat. His body jerks and you easily pick up on the signs, slipping him out of your mouth at the perfect time for him to cum all over your tongue and those plush, puffy lips. You take him into your hands, stroking him until youâve gotten every last drop. Licking your lips clean, you kiss the tip and lay back in bed, bringing him down with you.
Mingyu cozies his head up to your belly, his chest heaving for air, âWhereâd you learn to do it like that?â
âI donât know, maybe Iâm just giftedâ you sigh, brushing your fingers through his hair.Â
âWell, whatever you did, just know itâs yours nowâ he says, propping his chin up to gaze at you.Â
âMine? Whatâs mine?â
âI asked who this belonged to. You said itâs yours. Unless you donât want itâŚâ
âNo! No! No!â you scramble, your cheeks warming up again, âItâs mine! Itâs mine! Iâll take it.â
Mingyu raises an eyebrow, using his last bit of energy to crawl on top of you, âYouâll take it again? So soon?â
He spreads your legs, dipping his fingers between your legs and youâre still dripping wet. He presses up against you and you giggle feeling how hard he still is.
âYou did say itâs mineâ you smile, legs wrapping around his waist, âSo give it to me.â
#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#mingyu x reader#mingyu smut#svt smut#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#mingyu fluff#mingyu x you#svt x you#seventeen x you#seventeen smut#chubby reader#plus size reader
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Demon Slayer Dick Headcannons ft. the Demons
TW: yandere, mentions of non-con, kidnapping, excessive talk about balls and cum, breeding, cumplay, MDNI
Featuring: Muzan Kibutsuji, Kokushibou, Douma, Akaza, Gyutaro
The first thing youâll notice when you first see him nude is how perfectly and pristinely groomed he is. Thereâs not a hair out of place; his skin is perfectly smooth along his navel, happy trail meticulously waxed on a regular basis to keep himself clean and presentable. (Presentable for you, of course, though heâd never admit it, because although you donât really have the option of rejecting him, it still makes him feel better to know that he looks as good as possible.) Heâs even anal about shaving his balls, too â making sure that everything is as perfect as possible. His navel and v-line are absolutely drool-worthy; muscle sharp enough to be defined under your fingertip when you touch him, lines seeming to point directly towards the pale, slender cock hanging between them. Heâs thoroughly average in size â a solid five or so inches with moderate girth, his tip rather bulbous and a rich, flush pink color. He has a tendency to produce a lot of precum, beads practically oozing out as he watches you with those sharp, intense eyes. The only sign youâll get that heâs even remotely aroused by you is just how painfully swollen his tip becomes, just how wet and sticky his slacks become as he watches you touch yourself, thighs squirming and your face feeling warm because heâs just staring, not even bothering to touch himself.
He's not very physically sensitive, but Muzan becomes extremely engrossed into whatever scenario or dynamic heâs forced you into during sex. Heâs always in charge, of course, the dominant figure, but he finds himself becoming monumentally more sensitive and effected by your touch when youâre in physically submissive positions; on your knees while he stands before you, all your clothing stripped off to reveal your bare form while heâs only unzipped his slacks and his cockâs pulled out, a hand already buried into your hair as he forces you to lick and drool along his length. When youâre on your knees with your ass poised in the air, face pressed against the mattress as he smacks at you, watching your cheeks bounce with ever harsh thrust as he degrades you and calls you just a toy to fuck. Thereâs something about being able to see his cock physically entering you and seeing the way you react to it that makes him hurtle closer to his orgasm, the pleasure making his head spin a bit and his composure wane ever so slightly, enough so that if you were to listen hard, youâd hear him very, very quietly mutter your name in pleasure. It takes him a moderate amount of time to reach his orgasm, though he prefers to prolong the experience for as long as possible and will intentionally edge himself so that he can keep watching you slobber on his cock, so that he can keep fucking into you, so that he can keep feeling you you you. His cum is runny and an off-white, creamy color. He doesnât produce a huge amount, but itâs always hot, the heat feeling uncomfortable on your skin. (And reminding you that heâs not human, because what human could produce cum that warm?) Heâs not especially vocal when heâs orgasming, but youâll notice that he always lets out a signature grunt right as he lets go, his teeth bared and his eyes fluttering shut, hips bucking seemingly without his control as he pushes himself into you deeper, harder, further.
His favorite way for you to touch his cock is when youâre worshipping it. His ego absolutely must be stroked during sex â he wants you to recognize that youâre inferior to him, and having you praise him and give him such lewd attention gets his head and cock swelling. He likes when you get particularly depraved with the worship â the more dehumanizing, the better. He wants you to rub his tip along the outline of your lips as you kneel for him, his fist tucked under his chin as he sits back in the leather chair, watching you with eyes like a hawk as you try to please him. He wants you to kiss the tip, then drag it along your cheekbones. Nudge it with your nose, let your tongue loll out and lick at him, even trace down your jugular and around a nipple. He wants his precum smeared absolutely everywhere on your body, and he wants you to thank him for it, your voice airy and light, admiring and loving. He wants you to kitten lick him and suckle at his tip, big doe eyes flicking up to meet his gaze and immediately averting it, bashfulness written across your face that makes Muzanâs lip curl up and his hips twitch. He wants you to stay still and play with your clit while he grasps himself right at the base, smacking his shaft against your cheek and sneering down at you, going on about how youâre really just a little whore, arenât you? You enjoy being treated like dirt, donât you? He wants you to drool on him as you take him down your throat, sucking hard enough to hollow your cheeks and moaning around him, the vibrations making his eyes flutter closed. He wants you to lick and suck at his balls, telling him how good he tastes, thanking him over and over for letting you touch him. He wants you to show him that you know your place â and when he makes you close your eyes and open your mouth wide while he fists his cock and holds your head in place, youâd better tell him thank you, sir as rope after rope of hot, runny cum splatter onto your face. Maybe then heâll consider fucking you â only if youâve behaved.
Kokushibouâs cock is long, with hardly any veins decorating the length. When heâs hard it curves ever so slightly upwards, allowing him the perfect angle to brush against the spongy spot that makes you scream when heâs got you pinned underneath him. Heâs on the skinnier side, your fingers very comfortably wrapping around his girth, but what he lacks in width he makes up for with just how deeply he can reach inside of you. Itâs nearly painful, really, because when he presses in as far as your cunt will let him, tears sting at your eyes and youâre gasping because it feels like heâs splitting you in two, the pressure too much and the feeling of being full nearly overwhelming. His balls droop a bit, looking heavy to the touch and a much deeper red color than the rest of him, always drawing your attention. The color is so rich that in certain lights, namely moonlight, they almost look purple. When heâs hard, theyâll oftentimes throb and pulse, particularly when his patience begins running out and the desperation to fuck you becomes too strong to ignore. And even when heâs fucking you, if you pay attention youâll feel the way they sporadically clench against you, his balls indicating exactly what heâs feeling and how close to his orgasm he is. His cock is genuinely hard â thereâs hardly any give when you squeeze at it, feeling so solid and firm that when he slaps it lightly against your clit before he pushes inside it nearly hurts. And once itâs inside, it bullies its way past your walls, muscles being parted and molded to his shape because he views your cunt as his. (Just as he views his own cock as partially yours, as well.)
Kokushibou is moderately sensitive, though heâs particularly weak to the feeling of your walls. He enjoys the sensation of your hand, mouth, breasts, thighs, and everything else you offer to him, but heâll always preference your pussy over anything else. Itâs partially based in traditional ideas about what sex is for and a weakness for seeing the way you respond to his cock. He loves the way you go dumb the moment he starts thrusting into you â your mouth parts into a permanent gasp, fingers grasping at the sheets underneath you, back arching up off the ground and your nipples perking into hard little buds that he canât help but stare at. It doesnât take him too terribly long to orgasm, and the moment you start clenching down on him with any sort of regularity, youâll notice the way his thrusts start to get sloppy and uncoordinated, the rhythm faltering and his hair covering his upper eyes as he tries to regain his composure, unable to let the moment end quite yet. Youâll always be able to tell when heâs orgasming because his hips momentarily freeze up and a very small, slight shiver wracks his whole body before heâs letting rope after rope spurt from his tip. He prefers to finish inside you, but on the rare occasion when youâre using your hands on him, youâll see the way his cum shoots out in perfect little arches, landing in puddles against your chest or fist and drying fairly quickly. His cum is oddly fragrant â it doesnât smell good or bad necessarily, but the scent is extremely masculine and youâll quickly learn to associate it with him. (This is the primary way you learn that heâs grown a penchant for humping at your sleeping pillow, the same familiar scent imbued into the fabric that you lay your head on each night.) His refraction period is rather long, so itâs unlikely youâll get more than a single round out of him on any given sexual encounter, but after a long while of being stuck by his side, youâll learn that if you request it of him, heâll gladly bring you to your high a few times over with his fingers and mouth even after heâs finished himself. He wonât explicitly offer it for fear of both rejection and his own pride, but youâll notice the way his semi-flaccid, rather pathetic looking cock twitches at your request, an obvious sign that he very much wants to please you.
His more traditional views of sex and intimacy are showcased in the way that he prefers to fuck you in simple missionary style. He likes the simplicity of the position, and the way you feel in his position makes him quietly grunt under his breath and throw one of your legs up over his shoulder. The new angle makes your walls feel incredibly tight, the sensation making his fingertips grip onto your thighs just a hair too tight, leaving finger shaped bruises behind. Heâll pin you down, spitting onto his hand and giving himself a few good pumps, before lining himself and pushing inside slowly, all six eyes intently watching your face and seeing the way your eyes roll to the back of your head. Kokushibou, despite coming off as rather cold and indifferent in most aspects of your relationship, is actually extremely in touch and sensitive to your perception of him â he wants you to like him, maybe even love him, and to see the way you respond so quickly and easily to his cock makes him giddy with pride. The way you clench down on him spurs him to fuck into you with fuller, deeper strokes, the constant stimulation against his sensitive skin making his fight back the orgasm thatâs steadily building in his navel. Sometimes heâll even throw both of your legs over his shoulders, your cunt feeling even more tight with the new angle, loving the way you gasp and claw at him, his name a mantra on your lips as his thrusts get a little more animalistic. Having you underneath him like that helps quell his possessiveness â the knowledge that no one else will ever get to touch you like this brings him hurtling towards his orgasm, and although itâs very slight, as the first few ropes of cum flood into your cunt, youâll be able to hear him lowly growl an almost unintelligible mine under his breath.
Heâs solidly average in nearly every way â average length with an average girth, just a truly utilitarian cock. Itâs mostly pale, with the tip being a softer pink color that grows darker by the second when heâs hard. What makes him thoroughly not average, however, is that his length is almost always extremely cold to the touch. The skin is always cool, not quite feeling like ice but certainly unnatural against your fingertips. Itâs an odd sensation â when heâs fucking you, the shivers that run up and down your spine arenât just from the way heâs expertly rolling his hips and managing to hammer into that one spot that makes you see stars. Rather, itâs the temperature difference, how the sensation of something so hard and cold inside of you gets your toes curling and the softest gasp slipping off your tongue because it all just feels so very strange. But Douma absolutely loves the way it catches you so off guard, knowing that even if youâve slept with men before him (a thought that makes something ugly stir in his gut), surely no one else had made you feel quite like this. Heâs not the best with matinence, preferring to occasionally trim when he has the time, but he doesnât expect you to be hairless either. He likes the buildup of hair, actually, because Douma loves to see the way your combined slick and cum settles against the hair, clumping it together and leaving a mark of the two of you together. (Often times, heâll delay showering or cleaning himself after sleeping with you simply so that he can keep the scent of you on him with easy access. Heâll dip a finger down and swipe it through his pubic hair, bringing the finger up to smell and letting his eyes close and a rather boyish smile settle onto his lips, other palm already cupping at and rubbing the bulge forming in his pants.)
Douma isnât sensitive. Once his obsession with you develops, he stops sleeping with other cult-followers, but the damage is already done. Heâs slept with dozens of human women and men, and as a result his body has grown used to constant stimulation and pleasure by many different hands. It takes a long while for him to orgasm, the combination of his stamina and experience combining together to make your job much more difficult when Douma simply orders you to get him off. The one thing that consistently helps bring him closer to the edge, however, is when you use a significant amount of pressure against his cock. When youâre pumping your fist up and down his length, squeeze just a bit tighter than what seems correct and heâll hiss, those eyes of his shining as he tells you to keep going, his hips bucking and thrusting up in time. When youâve got him against your tongue, suck as hard as you can while you run the tip of your tongue along the underside of the shaft and youâll feel his whole body sag in pleasure, the small little giggle-lick sigh he lets out letting you know that your actions have effected him. And when heâs fucking you, clench down on him sporadically and youâll notice the way his cool, unbothered tone and expression grow just a hair darker, his voice getting a bit gruffer and his eyebrows drawing tight as he fucks into you meanly, like heâs got something to prove. Itâll still take him a long while to get off, but once he finally reaches his high, youâll be rewarded with a very copious amount of thick, glue-like cum that will plug you so full that youâll be leaking it around his length. Itâs oddly sweet, the consistency smooth against your tongue. This is particularly lucky because Douma absolutely loves to finish on your face, loving the way you look all tainted and ruined and pathetic with his cum smeared across your cheeks and lips, clumped up in your eyelashes, even staining your hair. Cute.
His favorite way for you to touch his cock is when you simply open your mouth as wide as you can go and let him use you. Fucking you face is one of his favorite past times â thereâs something about the power trip that drives Douma wild, the visual of you on your knees for him while his nails dig against your scalp and he physically moves your head up and down his length like youâre some kind of human fleshlight gets blood rushing straight between his legs. He can be rather unassuming in bed at times, but Douma absolutely hates to give up control, and having you so willingly let him do as he pleases with your mouth makes him giddy over both the sensation of your tongue and throat against his skin but also at your complete and utter submission to him. He likes watching the way your lips pucker around his girth, the way his cock disappears and reappears as he keeps up the motions. He likes the sight of your spit against his skin, reflecting the candlelight as he thrusts his hips forward to meet the motions of your head. He likes when you gag, the way your throat closes up making him moan lowly and only push deeper, wanting to hear more of the choking sound you let out. He likes knowing that he has an effect on you, enjoying the way your body responds to him. He likes how you desperately try to control yourself, to stop yourself from choking and pulling back, watching you fight your instincts because you donât want to displease him. It strokes his ego and has his cock swelling inside your throat, and when he finally, finally reaches his orgasm, heâll pull back without warning, your lips releasing his tip with a wet, lewd pop noise. He'll smack his tip against your cheeks a few times, eyes fluttering closed as his fist pumps up and down his fist so quickly that itâs a blur, until suddenly you feel slightly cold cum spraying across your face, Doumaâs airy moans and laughter ringing in your ears as he strokes and strokes and strokes so that every last drop lands on your pretty, human face. Afterwards, as youâre still on your knees and heâs standing before you, heâll tell you to kiss it, dear, insisting you press your lips against his tip in one final thank-you for giving you his cum, a commodity you should be truly grateful for.
Heâs a solid five inches with moderate girth. The base is thicker, tapering down near the tip but still significant enough to feel when he slips inside of you. The thick, bold lines decorating his body continue down between his legs, with a single line running the length of his cock on either side. A single vein follows each line, sensitive to the touch and making Akaza grunt when you run your tongue along them. Itâs pale, and even his tip is rather pale â the softest, baby pink that only grows to a darker red color right on the brink of his orgasm. He keeps himself neatly trimmed, the pink hairs standing out against pale skin and dark lines, tickling your nose when heâs pushing himself down your throat. His balls are low-set, nearly swinging with every step he takes, and though not terribly sensitive, Akaza loves when you pay attention to them and squeeze them a bit harshly. It takes a bit to arouse him, and you can actually watch and feel in real time as he grows hard, the process a bit slow but entertaining to watch because itâs like you can see him start to grow restless, his entire body starting to grow flushed and hot because he needs you. Heâs already clingy and constantly trying to be in your space, but once heâs turned on and aroused this only increases, his hands in constant motion as he touches every spot he can reach, groping and squeezing and kneading because wants every part of you in his palm.
He's not terribly sensitive, taking a while to reach his high. His orgasms are long, though, lasting easily twenty or more seconds â once the pleasure peaks, his jaw drops and his lips part, eyes squeezed shut and his eyebrows scrunched together as he gasps each breath. He loses control of his hips in the moment, fucking into your cunt, ass, mouth, or wherever else like a madman, too lost in his pleasure to register your gags or pleas for him to slow down. And for the entirety of his orgasm, cum drools from his tip â itâs a constant flow, thick pearls forming and landing in big, fat splats against your skin or inside you. If given the preference, Akaza always picks finishing inside of you â he knows he canât actually get you pregnant, but the prospect of breeding you is attractive nonetheless, and so heâll try to finish every time plugging you up, letting out that half-gasp half-moan as he rides out his high. Heâs so insistent on finishing inside that when youâre using your mouth or hand on him, heâll pull away at the last moment, hands moving faster than you can keep up with as he pins you down, spreading your legs and nudging his tip into you, letting out a shuddering groan as he lets go just in time, cum flooding your cunt while you stare in shock at just how quickly heâd manhandled you. Itâs a preference, sure, but with the way he start muttering under his breath âm gonna come inside, let me come inside, need to come inside over and over, it feels more like some sort of carnal need rather than a mere enjoyment.
Akazaâs favorite way for you to touch his cock is when heâs got you folded in half, pretty body bent into the tightest mating press youâve ever experienced. He likes the intimacy of the position; he can press every inch of his body against yours, making sure that heâs the only thing you can feel, see, hear, and taste. Â And god, the way your cunt feels makes him lose his fucking mind. Youâre so tight like this â the angle making your walls clamp down on him even harder than normal, his tip brushing against that sensitive spot inside you again and again, the way your walls clench onto him like a vice only serving to push his hips faster, his thrusts getting harder and more animalistic. He likes that he can get as deep as possible in this position â he can press in so tightly that his balls are flush with the curve of your ass, every inch of himself buried inside of you, the feeling of your warmth and wetness surrounding him and making him grit his teeth in pleasure. He has a penchant for watching himself in this position â watching the way his cock appears and disappears inside of you, the ring of white sitting at the base making his balls clench. Seeing the way your cunt stretches for him makes him giddy, the sense of possessiveness he feels over you only growing with each thrust. He just likes the way you feel in this position â and how incredibly responsive you are when he finds that perfect angle, feeling you clench down and beg for him, almost as if you love him.
Itâs just the slightest bit crooked, like it somehow got broken and didnât quite heal right. Itâs something that Gyutaro is initially embarrassed about, worried that youâll think itâs strange or unappealing or â worst of all â painful, but heâ relieved to find out that it actually managed to fit inside of you perfectly, snugly rubbing against the sensitive parts of your cunt that leave you gasping his name and begging for more. The same spotted birthmarks decorate the length, sitting so prettily against his tan skin. The spots are more sensitive than the skin around them, and if you run a finger along them heâll shiver a bit, teeth gnawing together as he stops himself from whining out again, please please please! Itâs long, too â long enough to smack against his thigh a bit as he walks, the length sizable even when heâs completely flaccid. His tip is a dark, deep red-pink color, always swelling up to the size of a walnut, the skin wrinkled and sensitive and absolutely dripping in pre-cum. He produces enough that the inside of his pants have countless stains, wet splotches and patches always appearing on them every time he sees you and watches you go about your business. Heâs not particularly good at keeping himself groomed, finding that the hair grows back much too quickly and unruly for shaving to be of any use, and although heâs self-concious about it at first, he eventually grows to not mind showing you his naked pelvis. The hair is dark and curly, and because thereâs so much of it, the bottom half of his shaft and flushed tip are the only visible parts of him underneath the hair. His balls are extremely sensitive â any pressure or the slightest touch makes something akin to a whine fall from his lips, his hips immediately and uncontrollably jerking forward, his cock visibly throbbing in response because god, he needs to touch you so badly and wonât you just please let him fuck you? He promises heâll be good, heâll make you feel so good he promises he promises he promisesâŚ
He's almost comically sensitive. Having had no experience in his human years, Gyutaro finds himself painfully effected every time your fingertips brush against his skin. Even outside of his cock, heâs able to get shivers and grow aroused just from you touching his hands, brushing past his side, even feeling your breath against his cheek as you kiss him. He gets hard embaressingly easily, and he absolutely cannot hide it. The obvious tent in his pants is already difficult enough to conceal, but the way his entire body flushes red and he starts panting like some sort of dog makes it obvious whatâs going on. And once youâve got him nude before you, that sensitivity doesnât go away â heâs shuddering the first time you wrap your fist around him, licking at his lips in nerves and excitement because god you feel better than his own bony hand. Heâs like putty in your hands every time you touch his cock, really â he gets hazy, like a fogâs lifted over his brain, and all he can do is mindlessly reach out and grope you, to fuck into you and kiss and lick at you like a man possessed. Consequently, he doesnât last very long â his orgasms are quick, and he has very little warning before theyâre suddenly upon them. He has the decency to warn you, at least, a slurred and rushed âm c-coming falling past his lips as his eyes go wide, your name like a mantra as he shakes and spasms. Heâs loud when heâs orgasming, nearly incoherent as the pleasure overwhelms him, but youâll always be able to make out the vague sound of your name and what sounds like âthank youâ. His cum is thin, almost watery, making it an absolute nightmare to clean up because it gets everywhere. Luckily, Gyutaro has a penchant for coming inside of you and down your throat - Â although the taste is rather bitter and makes you gag. But every time he pulls out and sees the white ooze out of your pretty, clenching hole, he can only gulp, already growing hard again and practically begging you to give him another round.
His favorite way for you to touch him is simply letting you grind on him. He knows heâs the one in control in your relationship, but thereâs something so freeing and wonderful about giving up his power, about letting you take care of him and treat him so gently and sweetly that makes his heart race. He likes when heâs laying flat on his back, eyes staring transfixed up at you straddling his lap. He likes the way you look on top of him, the feeling of your thighs caging around his hips, and the pressure of your weight against his cock makes him gulp. He likes when you move in slow, sensual circles, the sway of your hips and the warmth of your cunt seeping through the thin layer of your panties against his cock. He likes when you keep a consistent rhythm, letting the pleasure build up and up, only for you to suddenly switch to grinding back and forth right as heâs on the edge, the change making him groan and arch his back ever so slightly. He likes giving you control, and the way youâre able to dictate the pressure against his cock keeps him guessing and keeps his pleasure ebbing and flowing â keeping him from orgasming much too quickly. He particularly likes when youâre grinding against him while heâs fully nude and you only have a measly pair of panties on â something about the skimpiness and the slight taboo gets him hot under the collar, balls clenching and unclenching against your ass as he watches the way the mix of his pre-cum and your slick wets the fabric of the panties. He just likes the intimacy of the moment, and if you were to reach down and play with his tip as you hips move and scoop? Well, you wonât be mad if he soils the pretty fabric of your panties, right? Donât worry about washing them â heâll keep them, and take care of it for you. Just give him a few days.
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Pairing: Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader
Summary: "Kylo was nothing if not a sadist,"
Warnings: Language, WarPrisoner!Reader, Toxicity, Weaponizing Hux, Humiliation, God Complex, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smut +18 (Minors DNIA, DEAD DOVE FIC, Dark fic, Sadism, Masochism, Inexperienced!Kylo, Ownership Kink, Dry humping, Forced sex, Spitting, CNC, Dubious Consent, Massive Degradation Kink, Inappropriate Use of Force, Choking Kink, Size Kink, Impact Play, Groping, Breast Play, Premature Orgasm, Controlled Orgasm, Dom/Sub themes, Dom!Kylo, Sub!Reader, Brat Tamer!Kylo,;Bratty!Reader, Slight!Exhibition Kink, Humiliation Kink, Inappropriate Mind Reading, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Mentions of Rape, Fingering, Rough Sex, Dacryphilia, Gagging, Subspace.
Do not read this if you're incredibly sensitive to violent imagery. If this doesn't make sense don't say anything or i'll cry <3
As Hux walks diligently ahead of you, you could not tell by his tense shoulders and his palms clasped behind his back that he was following the duties of a madman.
While he escorts you, Hux thinks back to his slip-up with Ren.
The way he shouldn't have mentioned your name in a comprehensive report about the overall running of the Starkiller. The way he should've known how dangerous Kylo is when it comes to anyone taking even the vaguest of interest in playing with his toys.
"Despite having the accolades of an established pilot for the resistance," Hux had said moments earlier when Kylo was pacing up and down his private chamber, "Your prisoner refuses to put any of her skills to use aboard the Starkiller. She's essentially useless dark matter," He uttered his words rather clumsily. As if forgetting he was reporting to a beastly excuse of a man.
Hux only realises his mistake when Kylo stops his various pacing to turn slightly. His unmasked head tilts to the side as he advances on Hux in a low, large gait. Everything about the boy being so unnaturally large.
"My prisoner?" He steps closer, "Or the First Order's?"
Kylo's laugh appears unnatural without the mask. Not any less intimidating but certainly, frighteningly human.
"You act as if my will is not synonymous with that of the First Order, general," Kylo's blood runs fucking cold at the thought, "You insinuate that I keep her here out of my own free will,"
"Well, we all know how much a boy fancies his toys," Hux's degradation causes Kylo's Adam's apple to bob and a deep frown settles over the boyâs face. Whatever weakness Hux was accusing him of, it rattled the foundations of his already fragile ego and Hux smirked.
"Go tell her I wanna see her," the first command left Kylo's lips in a fairly controlled and monotonous manner. The second however... "FUCKING NOW!"
Robotic inclination bleeds from the mask of the stormtroopers âYes Sir-â
Without sparing the stormtroopers so much as a single glance, Kylo spat, "Not you, fucking degenerates," Kylo stares Hux down as he steps towards him. His voice is ice cold. "I want you to summon her," he takes immense pleasure in the way Hux's smile drops.
Kylo has observed the glances Hux throws your way and it makes his fucking stomach turn. He's seen the uncomfortable leering and the lecherous thoughts. Kylo was nothing if not a sadist. Humiliating Hux using the object of his desires.
He wants you and that makes Kylo want you even more... Violently so
"Where are you taking me?"
You could feel the rest of the crew watching your every movement as you trailed behind General Hux like you were compelled to do so by some unseen leather leash. You cannot help but feel as though you have done something very bad and very naughty.
You try to rid yourself of these thoughts immediately.
Perhaps he was taking you to see the vermin underneath the mask.
That thought should not sprout such a deep desire within you. Kylo was your captor and yet, he fascinated you more than anything ever could.
"At least slow the fuck down," You breath out, trying by all means to evade all eye contact with curious onlookers.While you walk you try to keep your head high and appear unaffected by their piercing glares. Every stormtrooper, navigator, pilot- even down to the measly technicians all keep their eyes trained on you and you glare back. Leering your head forward with narrowed eyes because being held captive on the Starkiller was punishment enough. You would never allow yourself to be intimidated by the judgemental stares.
"Do you ever plan on disclosing our destina-"
You're interrupted by a sharp and loud hiss before two doors part. Your eyebrows furrow before you're dragged into the chamber, quite literally against your will. You did not wish to get acquainted with any more rooms on the Starkiller. Hoping that one of your comrades in the resistance might have saved you long before you ever had to make this ship your dwelling place. But you've only crawled deeper into the Starkiller's core and you find yourself here, standing before him in his black cowl with his hands clasped behind his back.
The room is as lifeless as the rest of the vessel. The bed, colourless and hard. The only signs of vibrance is the east window depicting a slab of stars in hyperspace.
"I am told you've made yourself fiercely unlikable in the flight deck.â Kylo says, completely ignoring your slightly shocked experience at seeing him without his helmet.
âThat's what this is then?â You turn briefly to make eye contact with Hux before turning to Kylo with one arched brow, âI'm being scolded now?â
âYou're insolent when given any orders,â he oaces before you while Hux stands behind you by the door, âYou disobey at every given turn and you're resistant. Vexingly so.â
âHow clever of you, it seems as though you'd only just discovered a key characteristic from a member of the resistance.â You say with a smirk, âClever, Clever boy."
âIt's that mouth of yours that's gonna get your head slain from your very shoulders.â Kylo advances you like a midnight storm and you fight to stand your ground.
âI have grown terribly bored of this place,â You say, âPerhaps even death might be more eventful then whatever you are, Kylo.â
Before Hux is able to make his escape Kylo grabs at your throat, encircling his hand around your skin like a vice until he is forcing you to look at Hux ahead of you.
"This is what you want?" He isn't speaking to you but to Hux, pushing your cheeks together in a painful display of humiliation. "This is what's been plaguing that mind of yours-"
"I've no time for this-"
The very last thing Hux is able to see before he leaves Kylo's quarters, is your frightened eyes and Kylo looming behind you. A mere mouse being imprisoned by a God.
You make the mistake of thinking that Hux's absence might soften Kylo's resolve, but your time as his captive should have let you know that there was nothing soft about this man. Nothing at all.
"You should be grateful, you know that?" His lips graze your head and you're suddenly hyper aware of his proximity.
You're hyper aware of the closed metal doors that were probably being guarded by a pair of heavily armed stormtroopers. There is no escaping the clutches of this monster behind you.
And yet; you still find yourself scoffing, "I should be grateful?" You ask, hoping to assimilate every shred of confidence you had left, "I should be grateful to be your prisoner-" you wince when his grip on your jaw tightens and he's wrenching your face until you're craning your neck backwards to face him.
Large, looming, and completely fucking livid.
"You should be grateful that you're still fucking breathing, you brat-"
And then, a very strange thing occurs.
Since the moment Kylo had wrangled you off your home planet, you had sworn to be nothing but defiant. In honour of everything you stood for, you would never let him see you weak and yet here you are, carelessly allowing the faintest of whimpers to slip through quivering lips.
The sound confuses Kylo initially. In fact, he cranes your head back further, not caring whether you were comfortable or not as he bends down, appearing to inspect your mouth for that peculiar sound further. He squeezes your cheeks lightly, prodding the round tissues of fat as if fervently trying to search for whatever button might allow for that little sound to spill from your lips again.
"How completely and utterly curious-"
"You're fucking hurting my neck-" the fire returns and with it, comes your will to wrench your face out of his grip. You're only able to get free because he lets you and you know this.
"What..." Kylo bends even lower towards you and you turn your head to face the blank wall ahead of you. Evading eye contact with this man was nothing if not crucial. "What was that sound you just made-"
"It appears as though hearing nothing but the cries of utter doom and damnation has defamiliarized you to the sound of pleasure, Ren-"
Your breath is wiped clean from your throat not even a second later when you steal a look downwards at a gloved hand interlocking itself around your throat once more. Seemingly his favourite place.
"All the praises that could fall from your mouth..." Kylo drawls before pressing himself firmly against your backside, "All that you could say to worship the hand that feeds you and you still choose to be insolent-"
You try to escape his death grip but he doesn't let you out this time around. All you can do is be thankful that he had the decency to allow you to breathe.
"That's all you fucking know how to do right," Kylo's lips are at your ear and your knees buckle. "Insolence. Insolence. Insolence." Your legs give out, but before you're able to topple to the ground in a puddle of your own lustful perversions, his other hand curls around your waist, keeping you firmly pressed against his front.
âToday's the day you fucking obey," he whispers, "Understand?"
"I-I-â
Kylo is not sure how he does it, or why he does it, or where he got the understanding to do it, but his hand makes its very slow descent from your collarbone, to the spot right above your pillowy breasts. Clad in nothing but your knee length tunic, a garment stitched with fibres indigenous to your homeplanet, you suddenly feel incredibly naked and incredibly exposed. What was once an act of rebellion, is now your undoing.
"There is a way to make you disobey isn't there?" You can hear him becoming excited. "Every cattle has their price. What's yours?" Before you're able to turn and possibly beg for some sort of mercy, he's already in there. The stuff Kylo sees digging around in your mind, is enough to have him staring off into hyperspace. His eyes are trained on nothing at all as he rapes your most memories and most private desires. All while drawing you impossibly closer, until his mouth was buried in your hair and his hand was closing around your left breast. You squirm underneath him until finally, he's released from your stupor.
You did not dare turn around to look at him, in fear of seeing his dark eyes dilated with enlightenment.
"How barbaric." He whispers. "That's what I have to do in order to get you to listen to me,"
"I-I don't know what you're-"
"Open your mouth." Before you're ever able to interject even a single word, Kylo's hand is digging into the skin of your jaw, "Do I have to do it for you- open your mouth-" He wrenches your mouth open and cranes your neck back once more.
"That's it," You're absolutely frightened to see the violence that has darkened those irises. This is the look that's shielded behind the mask during times of battle. This is that look no one got to see.
Yet here you were.
"You're so fucking filthy, you know that?" You're nodding before your brain is aware of it, "You're a filthy, perverted little creature," one by one, your inhibitions slipped away from you until you could feel yourself become completely and utterly dumb for him. Your mind becomes a tabula rasa as Kylo bends his heavy frame downwards, spitting directly into your open mouth. There it is. That whimper he wanted to hear so badly.
You're not even aware of his hand reaching around your front until he's parting your legs with determination. "Is this where you want me?" Your mouth hangs open and you look up at him glassy doe eyes as he cups your drenched heat. Kylo locks his full lips and presses his front impossibly closer to your backside. "This whole time I've needed to get you in line, and the answers been here this whole fucking time?" A gloved hand swipes your underwear to the side and the wind is completely knocked out of you when Kylo pushes his fingers in immediately. He fucks his fingers into you with zero restraint and zero preparation, and the roughness has your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your skull as you grow limp in his grip. Lucky for you he's so large, lucky for you he might as well be a stone wall behind you, letting you lean against him with your long legs spread wide for his absolute assault.
"Look at me." He says, holding you against him by your throat while his index and middle finger violate your soaking cunt. Despite his orders you're still a drunken, blundering mess with half lidded eyes, promising to keep you locked away in your pleasure.
"If you don't fucking look at me, I'll stop and you'll suffer." He squeezes your clit quite painfully, immediately bringing you out of hedonistic stupor-
"FUCK- WHAT THE FUCK-"
"Do you want me to stop?" He asks, with a note of cockiness that had your brows furrowing.
"Are you stupid?! Of course I don-" before the curse could even escape your mouth in its entirety, Kylo's blocking out your airways. You fight to scratch at his gloved grip around your throat but his grip is fucking metallic.
"Look at how docile you look when you're not running your mouth,"
Your insides were screaming for oxygen, yet your hips rut against his hand. Kylo slyly adds a third finger inside your slippery cunt. "What a whore," he whispers, causing you to fuck forward against his hand, nearly humping yourself to completion as the blood flow to your brain seems to stop completely. You need oxygen and you need to cum. You just don't know which you need more.
"You're nothing but fucking filth-"
Your mouth opens to let a moan escape but it never does, and Kylo watches your struggle with a pained expression of his own.
"F-Fuck, I've never seen anything so vile-"
You were slipping. Whether it was into unconsciousness or an orgasm you couldn't tell. "If you pass out I will fuck you," he whispers, "There's not fucking escaping me-"
And in that very moment, Kylo unlocks the invisible grip on your airways and suddenly you can breathe and cum. Almost immediately you're slipping into a violent, damn near supernatural orgasm that has you seeing every star in the known galaxy.
"F-FUCK- oh my-" You're rutting against his hand, tongue lolling out all while Kylo continues to fuck his fingers into your cunt.
"That's it," He whispers, "Cum for me, you useless fucking whore-" Every vile sliver of degradation causes a fresh wave of pleasure to roll through you until the first droplets of tears are rolling down your cheek.
"Don't fucking do that," he whispers, pulling you closer than ever, "Don't fucking do that unless you want me to fuck you right now-"
He watches the tears roll down your face and absolutely loses it. Now suddenly aware of his own cock aching in his pants.
"K-Kylo please-" You try to push his hand out of you but to no avail. "It's too much-"
But his eyes are shut, and your body is overcome by wave after wave of electrifying shivers. The pleasure quickly bleeds into the pain of being so heavily overstimulated but Kylo is lost in his own world now. He clutches you impossibly closer, mumering obscenities into your hair as he ruts against your ass and you fucking pray for it to be over. Your pussy is fucking spent and yet he's still keeping his hand there, as if driven by his own need to cum.
"You stupid fucking slut- look what you made me do-" He's rutting against your ass, eyes squeezed shut as his hips stutter, "F-Fuck-" the whimper that breaks his voice is utterly intoxicating and you find yourself slipping into another dry orgasm as Kylo pushes against you, cumming in his pants with various expletives falling from his pillowy lips. When your orgasm falls you beg him to let go of you and when he does, you topple to the floor.
Never in your life have you felt so weak. So spent. So utterly used.
Kylo does not spare you a glance when he turns around. "This is where you will reside from now on," he says with finality. Careful to let his voice relay how utterly broken he feels. Just as broken as you.
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The general dialogue between Eric and that AOL girl regarding his philosophy on love has always stood out to me. It's one of the very few moments of vulnerability we've been given / able to find on his character over the past twenty years.
Eric always had his guard up. We all mostly know this from his own writings, no one acts like how he portrayed himself naturally. But, also including the accounts given about him from other people in his life, important or not, before and after passing. Mostly commonly described as aggressive and irritable, yet closed-off and restrained.
Alongside that online exchange, the only other times I can think of were when he called out of work to be there for his sick dog, or the innocent adoration he held toward his older brother, alongside sincere respect for his mother, of course, Reb's "I wish I were a fucking sociopath" Tape, and (arguably) his undisclosed email to his childhood best friend.
He talked about love like he was an outsider. A still figure watching it & whatever shape it may take maneuver around him, but not having the ability to engage. Let alone even acknowledge the fact it could be something of his own as well if he reached his hand out to touch it, but that wasn't even a possibility for him at that moment. Feeling comfortable enough to bring it up, but never to address it directly. Mentioning what he believed, but never outright saying it, afraid to cross a boundary. Though, he was still very careful with his wording despite not feeling confident enough to state his opinion in full. Being just general enough so he didn't risk the girl disagreeing with his words because he didn't give her an opening to do so, but still baring just a bit of his self to her through his ego because it was just the two of them.
Everyone talks about the concept of "love" relating to the case in reference to DK, because it was something that openly consumed him in private, but in a way, I feel the same just might have applied to Eric as well. But, like many other things relating to him, he hid it all away inside of himself. To live is to be vulnerable, and the times Eric was, never ended in his favor. Hence why he conditioned himself to be so isolated from everyone else, emotionally independent.
When Eric did openly talk about his doctrine on love, it was that degenerate & exploitative journal passage in which he wrote in depth about the idea of forcing himself onto certain women in his life alongside gaudy band lyrics. Considering how hesitant he was to directly speak to another girl about love, even under the context they were both being open with each other, the passage was likely written out of some kind of complex frustration. To compensate for how he felt like such a stranger in the face of it, but remarkably knowledgeable when speaking objectively. He wasn't being honest with himself, but still desperately needed some kind of liberation as an attempt to stop whatever feeling of desire he harbored from further stirring inside him.
The passion that stems from hatred is something I'm sure we all know Eric was well acquainted with. I think the hate inside of him masked the love, being overshadowed and making it appear small. It was definitely there, but seldom did it get a voice to speak in comparison to the amount of steam he let out on a general basis.
Eric cared a lot. When you look past the ego he presented to the whole world, he wasn't an individual with ASPD by any stretch of the means. He wanted not to be independent, but his life made him feel that was the only option he could truly rely on with the social instability he faced growing up. He wanted to be seen. I'm sure many people have voiced this before, but it's truly heart-wrenching to think he was doing this big finale act with his best friend, maybe because he had his best friend there to do it with him, only to find out post-mortem that DK didn't hold him to the same high regard. Maybe close, but not at all on the exact same level.
Putting the fact aside both of them expressed fantasies of doing NBK with their own respective "dream girl," DK wanted other options for someone to go through with the date, other actual people in his life, but from Eric's point-of-view, it had to be Dylan. Dylan was one of the very few people in his life, the only one still present with him, that aided his desire not to be alone. To be seen as an individual. To be vulnerable. Under the impression Dylan felt the same way he did, or at least something similar ... and while I won't deny it was there, it just wasn't as significant to the other party.
"What one person calls true love (EH) can be just another cheap thrill to another (DK)."
I'd like to specify that my goal with this post isn't to send the message that they were "gay," nor point out any form of "romantic chemistry," but rather to emphasize how languished love was overall in Eric's life. Also, I think there's an absurdist humor that comes from the irony of him saying this with what we know would follow half at his hands (you know who the other half is).
They both loved each other as friends, without a doubt, but it's so tragic to think that Eric's closest bond, a connection of love so intimate yet unrelated to direct societal romance, which created a strength so abundant that it started a ripple effect worldwide that still persists to this very day, wasn't quite requited the way he thought it was. Just like every other published bond of his, in his sad little existence.
#eric columbine#dylan columbine#eric and dylan#tcc columbine#Not going crazy on the tags for this since It's a bit embarrassing to discuss my take on certain things... sigh.#I'll go armchair psychologist about how EH may or may not have had BPD another day when I enter another state of neurosis. LOL#I am not a truther on the âDylan was his FPâ theory though. Not one bit. >.>#âď¸
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Old writing especially on Bo's and then Vincent's part. I realised that I was writing as if their s/o showcased their strength during later on into their relationship in the first three slashers, apologies.
A/n: I am no longer writing for Hannibal or any hannibal characters as I myself have forgotten my own perspective of them.
Slashers x reader who's stronger than them but doesn't look like it!
Warnings: blood and death on the ghostface duos part, very slight mentions of nsfw. But mostly fluff.
Slashers in this: Bo sinclair, Vincent sinclair and Thomas Hewitt, Michael Myers, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher (poly)
Relationship: romantic!!
Bo
It clawed at his ego, he's a pretty mean bastard and you know it đŤľ.
He first thought of you as the most fragile and weakest person ever (and cutest), I mean, could you even lift a pot half filled with water?
Undoubtedly he used this assumption to 'help you' or more so at times tease you. He loves seeing your reactions and most definitely not because you're so small and kind to him, pfff of course not.
He just absolutely loves lifting you up and over his shoulder and he's definitely an ass guy. He loves ogling and smacking your ass but he won't get to that level until many many months later on. But he's still going to stare.
âOh Bo, I think there's a rabbit under the truck!â You exclaimed to Bo as you noticed something white and moving below.
"An animal? *sighs* hold on, I'll get rid of that p-" He suddenly loses his ability to formulate words as he witnesses you lift the goddamn fuckin truck with one arm, and indeed there was a rabbit underneath.
â*gasp* it's so cute!â Bo cannot believe what he just saw. Damn, he gotta stop smoking so much it's messing with his brain. He's just staring at you as you pet the timid rabbit with your 'scrawny' arm.
He must admit he does fantasize about you lifting him up and shit, or topping him in bed. Whatever he's feeling that day, and he would rather swallow sand than ever admit that last part.... But y'know if you're up for it-
His cocky and prideful attitude seemingly making an apparent change, he would hold a cup or item you need above your head with a shit eating grin watching you get frustrated with him. Or when he would make jabs about you being too weak to lift three chairs at a time and would offer to help you. (So he could walk beside you.) But now... He still fucking makes jabs at you being weak, just to fuck with you even though he knows it's far from the truth. He loves making you seem like the little helpless princess and him being the asshole shining knight in armor.
You wouldn't mind tho would you? It's a win-win, you get to spend more time with your boyfriend and he gets to spend time with his girlfriend.
Vincent
So gentle and caring with you. He's gentle and caring with whoever he is with but your size just makes him think one wrong move and he's accidentally breaking your arm. And cause of this he can't help but be a worry wart at times and way too protective. Not budging even if you reassure him you're perfectly capable of doing something that requires strength.
During one of the dark evenings you walk with your lover in the forest, the side of the forest where there isn't roadkill so that you can breathe without torturing your nostrils. And finding some fire wood to spend the next dark hours star gazing and ranting to him while the sound of the fire crinkling and burning the wood serves as a nice background music.
Every step you take you hear the crunch of the dead leaves get crushed under your foot, both of you holding your flashlights. You have the warm and slightly calloused hand of your Vincent holding yours affectionately as his thumb brushes against the back of your hand and knuckles, gently tracing over and feeling the ridges and bumps.
You notice some fallen bark and shine your flashlight on it. "Vinny, look there's some firewood over there!" You exclaimed and shined your flashlight elsewhere, looking around more until you had shined it directly on a tree right in front of you that was occupied by a scary looking arachnid, its front limbs moving in a sluggish and relaxed fashion.
You let out a startled yelp and out of instinct your fist went to swing at the spider who somehow successfully managed to not get hit in the nick of time. This also startled your boyfriend who looked worriedly at you, his eyes scanned over to see that you were.. Fine! But the tree you punched wasn't. It has a big dent in it while the flesh of wood was cracked and damaged severely around the impact along with many splinters.
"I'm so sorry Vincent! There was a spider and I got scared!"
He almost let out a breath of relief knowing it wasn't anything serious but he can't get his eyes and mind off the injured tree. Did you... seriously do that? He gently took your hand and examined it, it seemed perfectly fine except for redness, light bleeding and a couple splinters on your knuckles.
He slowly raised one of his hands, pointing towards the punched tree. 'Did you do that?' Is what's probably going through his head. You chuckled sheepishly and nodded in confirmation. He sighed. For now, he'll worry about your fist.
Does this interaction change how he treats you?... Kind of. He isn't too pushy as he was since he now knows how capable you are of handling yourself but there's still that feeling in him, something that gnaws at his inner core for him to help you. He wants to feel useful and to serve you in any way he can, so...please let him dote over you still..? (Of course you will, you can't say no to him.)
If you want to pick him up he'll entertain you, though he'll be extremely flustered and giddy about it. He likes this way more than he should (in his opinion). How comical is it? He's a large 6'1 grown man being carried princess style by his tiny s/o. Despite all this, he still hopes you need him as much as he needs you.
Thomas
Trust me when I saw it really took Thomas by surprise. He's a really big guy and you say this little thing is stronger than him? Oh please, humor him after dinner.
He's a busy man with a lot on his plate, and you seemingly looking like the most harmless person in the world doesn't help, he constantly feels like he has to tend to you and supervise you from a certain officer.
Will usually not allow you to help him when he's working, it depends. He feels guilty letting yourself get caught up with all this but if you insist he'll gladly accept the extra hand with honest gratitude. But generally- 'Back away honey, you might get dirty.' Is what he wishes he could say.
In his eyes you're a saint, an angel. Made perfectly to fit in the space between his thighs he's sitting down and there's no flaw in the way his large hands cups your cheeks with those pretty eyes of yours staring into his â no room for mistake or complain. You're adorable.
The first time he allowed you to help him you admire your handsome behemoth of a lover chopping wood. Appreciating the rolled up sleeved that gave you a good view of his arms, his muscles flexing as he brought the axe down â after he was done with the first small batch of logs you hurried to grab the others.
Tommy watched with amusement and adoration before shifting his weight to help you but stopped as you started walking towards him five logs resting effortlessly in your arms. It didn't even seem to faze you as if it was just you were only a bunch of baby ducks.
Tommy watched in silence as you laid them out on the table, still kind of processing it before nodding his head in gratitude and resuming to chopping them up. He'll bring this up later, maybe. For now he'll focus on getting his work done and spending more with you, and your soft words.
He doesn't really care if you're stronger than him or not, as long as you love him and don't try to run away it's all good. If you want he'll stop trying to do everything for you even though he knows you don't need any assistance â he's so used to working around the house he feels restless not doing anything at all.
If you want to carry him, do it. He's all yours but please do it in private he won't be able to handle the embarrassment if his family sees it. And although he prefers to be the dom he doesn't mind it if you wanna take charge every once in a while and throw him around.
Plus, it creates something pleasantly warm in his stomach.
Michael.
He thinks he's going insane. (He already has.)
He's Michael Myers, the most ruthless killer Illinois has ever seen for the past decades. And you're saying this small creature that he's inhabited has greater strength than him... Yeah, no.
And then he sees you picking up three bodies out of the house with your bare hands while cleaning up the evidence of his the murder he left, quietly observing you. He won't admit it but it kind of irks him. He's supposed to be the one with power in this relationship and quite frankly he doesn't know the true extent to your power.
He warms up to it eventually â although it's more of he doesn't give a fuck anymore. You're not completely weak and helpless? Great, he doesn't have to worry about you as much. Key word: as much. He still does worry a lot when you're out for long hours â he's not worried you're injured or in danger (not anymore) but more as in you're not leaving him, right? Or ratting him out to the police?
Do not ever attempt to pick him up or anything even remotely close to that unless you want a glare from those void, soul-less eye sockets of his mask Or if you want a love tap on the head and cheek. If you give him enough guilty smiles and let go of him he'll let you off the hook. if not, bear the consequences. (They don't even do anything anyways, lmao)
He feels so incredibly annoyed when you start treating him like a child, telling him to go sit down or lie down in bed after he pulled a few all nighters and the fact you successfully manage to pull him back into bed: God dammit, why the hell are you even so strong and you're so small!? Grumpily he does stay put but only if you're with him too.
A man feared by hundreds, if not thousands because of the sheer power and mercilessness he leaves in trails of every step he takes in public... And then there's you, you're half his size and you have more control over him than he'd like. He'd never kill you though, not intentionally, but that will also most likely not happen.
Speaking of killing, don't think he won't murder someone if they attempt to hurt you and gets their ass kicked by you anyways. You attack, he lands the finishing blow. Don't protest, he won't listen.
Billy n' Stu
They're both pretty lean so you can believe it, if not for your given figure. They both adore it, so who cares? Billy and Stu will, eventually.
It was in the heat of the moment, you tell yourself but you remember in vivid detail the day where you saw the bloody escaping victim running towards you â adrenaline pumping in your veins, your mind immediately went into fight mode and swung a fist at their skull. You remember the sickening crunch as blood slowly pooled from their fractured cranium when they lifelessly fell down to the floor.
They first helped you with the lingering guilt first before Stu started annoying you.
''Can you punch me like that next but with a bit less-''
"No!"
Alright, no worries but now he's asking you to lift him up to reach things that he does not need help on. Maybe even just carry him and run around the house. (Don't be fooled, he just wants to be carried around like a child again.) Fluttering his eyelids at you and holding up a jar of pickles. 'Y/n, I can't get this to open!' Yes he can.
Billy, although tries to act neutral but can't help but let his thoughts wander. 'Wow... Strong girl... Can choke me...' He thinks to himself as he watches you and Stu. Not as if he'd ever admit that. He pretends he's disinterested in getting in your arms - no, he just doesn't wanna embarrass himself. But if you persist he'll begrudgingly agree. He indeed liked it.
Stu obviously takes a positive reaction, he loves getting dominated. You can take that however you like. Billy on the other hand feels conflicted, if he's not stronger than you then how will he stop you if you try to leave them or plan to rat them out? Assuming this is during the beginning of your relationship. But overtime the more he takes a good look at your face those thoughts will slowly drown away, there's no way you would, right?
The slashers will probably swoon if you agree to help them place the bodies where they want them to, like hanging them in the trees or something.
Billy keeps it more lowkey. Preferring to keep you in his lap and rest his chin on top of your head. Stu takes your strength to his advantage. When he gets drunk he'll whine and ask you to carry him to bed, and take his socks off. Annoying fuck but you love him either way. And Billy too.
#bo sinclair#slasher x reader#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x reader#sinclair twins#slashers x reader#vincent sinclair#thomas hewitt x you#tcm thomas#thomas hewitt x reader#thomas hewitt#x reader#slasher x you#michael myers x reader#michael myers#billy loomis x y/n#billy loomis x reader#stu matcher x reader#stu macher#billy and stu
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SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT (WITH YOUR FISTS FOR ONCE)
- you and bradley had always been attached at the hip until life pulled him away. when youâre finally living in the same place again, your unspoken feelings come to the surface during a san diego bonfire. (bradley âroosterâ bradshaw x gn!reader, reader is characterized as someone who doesnât like much attention, jealousyyyyyyyyy, pining & arguments but fluff at the end, â ď¸ mentions of alcohol / weed)
word count: 2,500
a/n - itâs so entertaining to come up with synonyms for kissing đ anyways, enjoy this, and listen to american teenager by ethel cain. oh and i was also so tempted to make the girl mickey in a wig, but i held back.
Bradley Bradshaw likes you. Heâd go as far as to say he loves you, if he was being honest. Heâs never said it, though, not in that way.
When you first met, he was pulled to you like a magnet. It was preschool, and he never left your side. He made macaroni portraits of you and you crafted tiny little friendship bracelets for him. Neither of you could speak well, or write well, but you stuck together anyways.
Your first written words were each otherâs names.
Everything snowballed from there, but he couldnât say he was mad at it.
You were so entirely different, but thatâs what made it good, in his opinion. He always needed eyes on him, not for any pretentious ego-boosting reasons, but because it made him thrive. You tended to hide in the shadows. When you gave your eyes to him, and him to you, it was like the most natural thing in the world.
He was the classic class clown type all throughout middle and high school, with a football jersey and everything. When you came to his games, he swore he played a million times better, and you were happy to indulge in his superstition.
You like him, too. Youâd go as far as to say you love him, if youâre being honest. You mightâve said it if he hadnât been so clearly your platonic life partner. You would follow him, as toddlers, with his shirt edge balled in your small fist. You tried to draw him more times than you could count, but it always looked wrong, like you couldnât really capture the life that he held so deeply in his eyes. You even considered joining the cheerleading squad for him, but you wouldâve cringed under the gaze of the crowd.
When he left for the navy, and for college, and for anything after that, you wished you could bounce across the United States with him. Instead, you wrote him letters; copious amounts of them.
One thing that you both never dared to cross was the bounds of friendship. He would hold your hand, his thumb smoothing over the side of your fist, and there was nothing romantic about it. God, you wished it was, though.
Now that youâve moved to San Diego, following him one last time, you beg whatever makes the rules to break them just once.
You walk up behind a broad-shouldered man you barely recognize and tap him on the shoulder. âIâm sorry, but I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to a man named Bradley? I believe his call sign is something silly, like âduckâ.â
He whips around, sunglasses and mustache entirely new to you. He speaks your name in a breathy whisper, like heâs afraid his words will break if he says them too loud. âYouâre here? Like actually?â
Youâve barely replied before youâre wrapped in a hug, feet lifted off the ground and body spun around so many times you think you might be sick. âGeez, Brad, put me down!â
He sets you down gently, holding out an arm for stability as you collect your bearings. âSorry, sorry. I just canât believe Iâm seeing your face after all this time.â Youâre even more breathtaking than he remembers.
San Diego has done him well, you reckon. His gold-tinted skin holds a deeper sense of warmth, now, even though he has always run hot. âYou better get used to it. I have a fancy new apartment now, so Iâm here to stay.â
His face holds a beaming grin, and the whole world falls away. âThank god, I was beginning to think Iâd be stuck here with just my coworkers.â He doesnât even notice how you look at him with lovesick eyes.
After two months of San Diego, you say the one thing you thought you would never say: âIâm so sick of the sun.â
Itâs midday, and youâre prepping for a Fourth of July bonfire party on the beach. The sun is beating down on your back, forcing you to scamper into the ocean every once in a while. Bradley is right beside you, wheeling yet another cooler onto the sand. âIf I wasnât worried about our shit being stolen, Iâd suggest we abandon it and let Jake do all the work.â
You laugh. Jake was the one who suggested the whole bonfire, but, of course, he was âtoo busyâ to help set up. You donât mind doing the work. If it was an opportunity for you to be beside Bradley, youâd do anything. Youâd even brave the burning ball of gas in the sky.
As you work, the sun disappears quickly.
By this point, after over two decades of friendship, youâve lost a bit of that hope that pushed you to follow Brad in the first place. You know heâs attractive, and every woman in the world seems to know it too. What you didnât know is that youâre pretty damn attractive too. As youâve told yourself, you prefer to keep the attention off of you.
So, as the sunâs last dying rays scatter over the cooling sand, you pretend not to notice the women ogling your best friend.
The bonfire is great. Amazing, even. The flames reach high into the sky and the smell of smoke permeates the air; everything is cast in this sort of hazy glow, highlighting tanned skin and bright swimsuits. Thereâs also a woman chatting up Bradley, touching his arm flirtatiously, but you push that to the back of your mind. Instead, youâre focused on the guy in front of you, even when her giggle sends a ball of spikes into your heart.
Heâs tall, a little on the skinny side, with tousled black hair and a puka shell necklace. Sand clings to his sandaled feet. He hands you a beer, which you tell yourself you wonât drink much of. Youâve already had a bit too much.
âSo, know anyone here?â He asks. Heâs eyeing you with a certain ferocity that you donât notice, his gaze raking up and down your body.
You pop the can open and take a small sip. âYeah. I know Bradshaw, and the rest by association.â You gesture to Jake and Natasha, who are arguing over a beach volleyball. You almost smile at the way she jabs him in the ribs, making him double over just enough for her to steal whatâs so carefully held in his hands. The guy nods.
âI donât. Iâm here for the vibes, yâknow?â He takes a step closer, and you notice he smells like smoke and something deeper, like perfumed weed. âAnd the pretty people.â
You shift in your place. âHave you found what youâre looking for?â Youâre almost teasing now, completely missing the hunger in the way he licks his lips. Maybe youâre a little drunk, or maybe youâre just enjoying how someone seems to be giving you the longing looks you so sorely crave. Itâs one night, you figure. You wonât ever see him again. Whatâs wrong with a little good-natured flirting?
âAbsolutely.â He murmurs, reaching forward. His hand connects with the back of your neck, his breath cascading over your face, and your eyes flutter shutâ before youâre yanked backwards by an arm around your waist.
You stumble. âWhat the hell?â You curse, colliding with a hard, warm chest. You drop your beer in the sand as you fall back. Itâs Bradley, and he looks furious. âBrad, are you kidding me?â
âCome here.â His voice is lethally quiet and sharp as a knife. Your mind is reeling as you follow him a few paces closer to the fire, but a hot pool of anger sits in your stomach.
âAre you being serious right now? What in the world were you thinking?â You hiss. You look up at his tight-lipped face, utterly stoic in the light behind him.
âIâm not letting you kiss that piece of shit.â
âWho are you to decide who I kiss?â Youâre so, so mad. So mad you could punch someone, but that would probably hurt you more than the person your fist connects with. Bradley just intervened in the one thing you thought he would never intervene in. Youâve let him swap spit with girls youâve never seen before, and now heâs over here acting like you kissing one guy is the epitome of nastiness?
He scoffs. âYou didnât even notice, did you? That he was eyeing you like a piece of meat? God, he reeks of weed and swamp ass, too. What were you thinking?â
âI was thinking that I could have the once in a lifetime opportunity to make out with a perfectly attractive guy without someone interrupting.â Your arms are crossed, but you feel a lump forming in your throat. In your mind, that really was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Itâs not like you go out of your way to meet people, and the people youâve met have never even slyly complimented you. Youâre not the type that gets dates or drinks sent your way or anything more than platonic. Currently, platonic is staring you in the face with the rage of a thousand suns behind his eyes.
âMake out with Bob or Nat, I donât care. At least they wonât undress you with their fuckboy blue eyes. Even Bagman is a better choice.â
âYou donât get to decide those thingsâ friends donât get to decide those things. I mean, I didnât throw a hissy fit when you were openly flirting with that girl.â In the back of your mind, you know heâs right. You know that your stomach dropped when the guy leaned closer to you, and that your kicked-down self esteem made him out to be a whole lot more attractive than he probably (definitely) was.
Bradley runs a hand through his already slightly messy hair, sighing like heâs regretting ever hitting you with a sand pail in preschool. âI at least get to decide when to save you from creeps and when to leave your love life alone. Trust me, you were in more danger than I ever was.â
âI reiterate, friends donât get to decide those things.â He can see the insecurity swimming in your beautiful eyes. Yeah, youâre definitely at least somewhat drunk. Youâd never argue with him like this if you werenât. Youâre also more than a little mad, and disgusted with yourself, and disappointed with your lack of charisma, and so jealous of the girl he probably tangled tongues with.
âWhat do I have to be, then, to get it through your thick skull? You know I love you. Iâm just looking out for you.â His voice is softer, now, and sweeter, dripping from his mustache like honey.
He reaches out, and you cringe away. Love. Itâs a word unspoken, one thatâs been lingering on your mind since the day in seventh grade when he suddenly became attractive to you. Like most things, you assume itâs friendly. âDo you really love me if this is what youâre pulling? Say it like you mean it, Bradshaw.â
âI love you.â He states, taking your hands in his. This time, as you try to pull yourself from his grip, he holds on. âI love you.â He says again. It holds a certain weight that gets your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Heâs firm but gentle, and he can feel the years of unspoken feelings bubbling on the tip of his tongue.
Thatâs when the guy from before decides to approach, sliding a hand uncomfortably down your waist. âI think you interrupted us, dude.â
Bradley drops your hands, and before the man can grab you even lower, heâs getting decked in the face.
He collapses to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing like a bitch. âFuck you, what the fuck! Fuckinâ Navy piece of fucking shit.â You raise your hand to your mouth as he scrambles to get away. His blood leaves a scarlet trail of droplets in the sand.
âBradleyâŚâ
âI just want you to be safe.â He mutters, like he didnât just punch someone in the face for you. âI donât care if you donât feel the same way, romantically, but I canât stand seeing you with guys that arenât as smart or good-looking as one fraction of your pinky toe.â
You reach up to his jaw, carefully, gingerly, before pressing your lips to his.
Like a scene from a movie, Fourth of July fireworks explode behind you, not unlike the fireworks going off in your mind. He has one hand on your waist and one hand on the back of your head, and neither make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. Itâs Bradley, and he makes you feel like the safest person in the world.
Your lips are soft, so soft. Bradley can practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as his body finally takes in the moment heâs been dreaming about his entire life. When you pull away, he misses the feeling, like the lost puzzle piece of his heart was stolen as soon as it was put back.
âYou think my pinky toe is smart and good-looking?â You place a hand on his bare chest, teasing. He gives you the grin youâve come to adore.
âEvery part of you is. Thatâs why I love you.â
âI love you too. For more than your pinky toe, of course.â
âOh,â he says, suddenly conscious of the self-satisfied look you shoot her, âyâknow that girl I was talking to?â You raise your eyebrows questioningly as he nods his head at her. She sends a little wave, in which you notice a sparkling ring on her finger. âThat, my love, is Reubenâs wife.â
You feel your heart sink to your feet as the embarrassment sets in, your cheeks growing warmer than the fire. You mouth a quiet âsorryâ at her and she laughs, shooing your apology away with a gentle sweep of her hand.
âIs that why you went after Mr. Broken nose?â Bradley whispers in your ear. âThatâs one hell of a way to make me jealous.â
You crinkle your nose as your face flushes impossibly warmer. âNot everything has an ulterior motive, Bradshaw.â
He looks perfect in this lighting, and to him, so do you. You can hardly believe that decades of friendship and tension and wishing led to this slightly improbable moment. Youâre honestly glad you almost kissed a stranger.
âYeah, but youâd best believe I do.â
He takes your hand in his and drops to one knee. Everyone turns to look at him, but for once, the only eyes that matter are yours. âWill you do me the honor of letting me be your lawfully appointed boyfriend?â You smile so wide you think your cheeks might split. You join him in the sand, holding his face in your hands and kissing his cheek.
âYou really did mean it, huh, Brad?â
âIs that a yes or a no?â
âYes. Itâs a definite, no-questions-asked, yes.â
#solar eclipse.#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff#top gun maverick#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#top gun fluff#top gun headcanons#top gun maverick x reader#top gun x reader#top gun fandom#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun movie#top gun#top gun fic
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no thoughts head empty just lifeguard! johnny who finds the skimpiest shortest shorts imaginable to wear to work, who absolutely eats up all the attention from everyone at the beach, sends winks at ladies who are falling over themselves and knowing looks at guys who cover their crotches after watching the water droplets race down his muscles and body hair.
it strokes his ego when people fake drowning just to be swept in his strong arms and mouth to mouth that makes their eyes roll into their eyes.
you live nearby the beach and this new lifeguard is making it even more rowdy and you canât even enjoy your walks along the beach with your dog in peace anymore without hearing all the oohing and aahing.
what makes it even worse is that even your dog freaking loves him. pulls on the leash like a bull when he sees him and johnnyâs eyes always have this spark of mischief when he notices and starts encouraging him more. you give your dog the stink eye when he runs off to show johnny his belly, little traitor. you consider just waiting for your dog to get bored of johnny but in the end you swallow your pride and head to him.
it irritates you even more that you can understand why he has everyone so smitten â overgrown mohawk always mussed and full of sand, eyes so blue he puts the ocean to shame, dimples when he throws around the megawatt smile like a weapon of mass destruction. not to mention his physique. this is the body Greeks have been sculpting statues of. arms the size of your head, shoulders wide enough to hide you from sight but with a narrow waist that somehow feels indecent. when you look down you pointedly avoid staring at his shorts that leave very little to imagination even though whatever heâs (barely) hiding under them seems anything but little. your eyes fall to his thick thighs.
âsee somethinâ ye like, bonnie? wanâ me ta give ye a show? all ye gotta do is ask nicely.â
the innuendo is dripping off of his words like honey and in total eclipse of your mind you might actually agree to this proposition against your better judgement. and by the wolfish grin on his face, he already knows heâs got you hook, line and sinker and he just might let you drown.
#writing this gave me a heatstroke#save me lifeguard johnny save me#cod mw2#cod x reader#bunnie writes#x reader insert#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#john mactavish x you#john soap mactavish x reader
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WAY BACK HOME â A SIM JAEYUN ONESHOT
BREAKING NEWS! the friendly neighbourhood superhero spider-man has been caught trying to swing into a girlâs heart â but why is he failing miserably?! is this the spider-man we all know and love? or has our hero lost his spark?
or in which sim jaeyun asks you, his best friend out, forgetting that he was still in his spider-man suit.
GENRE! best friends to lovers, mutual pining, extremely groundbreaking embarrassing pick up lines, my missed hit at being a comdeian, jaeyun being jaeyun ( ie a hot loser ),
CAUTION! idiots in love, two timing ( but theyâre the same person ), kissing, love, mentions of weapons and fighting crime, bad pickup lines, embarrassment for sim jaeyun, both reader and jaeyun are nineteen in this fic
WORDCOUNT! 5100
MIKAELAâS! hey everyone, this is the first ever oneshot iâm posting on my shiny new blog! please feel free to leave feedback through reblogs or asks! hope you enjoy jake embarrassing the soul out of himself𫶠i love sim jaeyun so much ( too much itâs embarrassing tbh ) this is the last of my old drafts, sorry for the spam!
playlist ⥠way back home â shaun ⥠forever only â jaehyun ⥠pov â ariana grande ⥠daylight â taylor swift
i. with great power comes a platter of hot embarrassment
âWith great power comes great responsibility,â is what Spider-Man once said in an interview with The Daily Times, the most widely read newspaper company in all of Seoul.
Itâs so out of character of Sim Jaeyun that he himself wonders what exactly went through his mind at that given time to blurt out such a philosophical quote â especially when he was having the bad urge to take a piss at that very moment.
But whatever it was: he needs it to return now, because heâs standing in front of you, his best friend, and he thinks that now's the chance; to finally ask you out after saving you.
Unfortunately Sim Jaeyun is out of luck, like he always is with you, because nothing but five utterly embarrassing words come out of his mouth.
âYou tingle my spidey senses.â
You choke back a laugh as you stare at the masked superhero, amused at his sudden pick-me-up. âAre you rizzing me up, mister friendly neighbourhood hero?â
It seems like too much thinking has altered the already broken thought process in Sim Jaeyunâs brain, because it is only now that he registers that heâs still in his Spider-Man suit, and you donât have a single clue that heâs Spider-Man.
âUh, I mean-â but heâs cut off by the roaring cheer of the gathered public, who have their phones out and recording.
âDonât back down, Spider-Man,â a citizen calls out, and Jaeyun thinks itâs far too late to back out now, because not only will it crush his ego, you might think Spider-Man isnât as cool as he seemed to be.
âWould you let me swing into your heart- I mean, could weâ he pauses, âcould we hang out sometime?â
You smile, and it makes Jaeyun frown slightly under his mask, because he knows that smile â itâs the polite one, the one you use in a slightly uncomfortable situation, as if you didnât want to embarrass the popular superhero standing in front of you at the moment.
âSure,â you grin, pearly whites on display, âcould I bring my best friend Jaeyun though? Heâs a big fan.â Itâs him, he thinks, heâs the Jaeyun youâre talking about. And his heart skips a beat at your thoughtful action.
âOkay! Tomorrow, here, five in the evening,â he says in excitement without a second thought. Youâve just agreed to go out on a date with him, and heâs too drunk in love to think about how heâs going to meet you as Spider-Man without telling you his identity.
He shoots a web up and swings after shouting an elated âsee you, yn,â in the air. All too caught up in you to realise the three critical mistakes heâd made.
ONE. He never asked for your name as Spider-Man
TWO. Thereâs no way he could ever go on a date with his suit on in public
THREE. How in the fucking world is he going to a date with you as both Spider-Man and Sim Jaeyun?
Sim Jaeyun spends the whole night twisting and turning in his bed, mind in a flurry as he tries to think of the smartest way to solve these problems.
And it doesnât help him when his phone pings with a new message from you.
Guess who just bagged us a hang out with Spider-Man tomorrow!
Donât wear that Spider-Man suit or I swear to god I will not bring you to see him.
He sighs as he presses hard on the power button of his phone, staring blanking at the black screen. Fuck power or responsibility, he thinks, all he wants is his best friendâs heart, is that too much to ask for?
ii. man up, spidey-boy!
âBREAKING NEWS! Spider-Man spotted trying to swing into a girlâs â who supposedly goes by the name yn, heart. And after failing miserably at the first try, he succeeded on the second. Spidey may be a hero who saves lives, but it seems like he might have to take up what youngsterâs call ârizzâ classes.â
The wide billboard screen casts a video taken by a bystander as the announcer's voice blared into the main junction of the city.
Jaeyun groans as he hangs his head low, adjusting the baseball cap perched on top of his head to cover his face. Not like anyone knew he was Spider-Man, no, but it was just far too embarrassing for him.
He hears you before he sees you, your voice is illegally sweet as it causes a smile to appear on his face amidst all of the stress. âJaeyun!â You call, âyouâre unusually late,â and Jaeyun groans, blaming it on the lack of sleep he had gotten last night, âSpider-Man isnât here yet.â
Right, Spider-Man. Jaeyun still hasnât found a solution to that.
His suit is tucked safely in the bottom of his bag, just in case. But for now, Jaeyun thinks itâs a better decision to disappoint you as Spider-Man instead of as your best friend. Besides, he hasnât missed a single hang out session with you, and he isnât ever planning to.
âDo you think heâs actually going to come?â You ask, head tilting in question and eyes soft, and Jaeyun wonders if he actually underestimated how much you liked Spider-Man, misunderstood that seemingly polite smile you gave him yesterday â should he have came as Spider-Man instead?
âUhm,â he pauses, hesitant to squash your expectations, âhow about we go first? Iâm sure Spider-Man will swing by, it seems like he likes you a lot.â And even though he was talking about himself, he couldnât help but feel a tinge of jealousy bubbling in him at the thought of another boy liking you.
âRight,â you say, giving him a smile that makes his heart melt, âI guess itâs just us, like it always is.â Your fingers wrap around his, âI like it like this.â You mutter softly, yet in the buzz of the city square, Jaeyun catches the whisper of your voice, a goofy grin plastered on his face.
âPlus, if I ever need, you can be my Spider-Man â whip out that fake suit of yours. You have his physique anyway, and your pick up lines are just as idiotic as his. Maybe even more idiotic.â
Jaeyun lets out a loud laugh, one thatâs of melodious dreams, and it causes a few pedestrians to stare but he doesnât care, not when youâre next to him, asking him to be your very own Spider-Man. And he agrees immediately, all too ready to put on the âfakeâ red and blue suit just for you.
Heâs a little amused that you still believe that heâs a hardcore fan of Spider-Man, because the only time youâve caught him wearing that very suit was two years ago, when you coincidentally entered his room to see him in a Spider-Man suit without a mask.
And he still remembers your accusations of him being a fanboy, asking him if dressing up as his idol was what he did in his free time. Jaeyun was way too flustered to even explain himself, and letting you know that he was the real Spider-Man never even crossed his mind as he bashfully nodded to your words.
But it wasnât like you ever laughed at him about it, though you did tease him. You would still buy him different types of Spider-Man merchandise, ranging from Spider-Man socks to a custom Spider-Man mug with the words âSpider-Man loves Jaeyunâ in bold red.
With every gift given, came an opportunity to reveal his identity. Yet Sim Jaeyun never seizes it, he refuses to, because he finds it so endearing â the way you have the proudest smile on your face as you give him merchandise of himself that he has never seen before, the way you send him a picture of every single Spider-Man related thing you see on the streets.
âRight,â he nods as he gazes adoringly at you, âforget the real Spider-Man, Iâll swing into your heart.â And the giggle you let out once again makes his knees weak â he thinks the smile plastered on your face is much more genuine than the one he saw yesterday.
And he wants to kiss you so bad, tell you exactly how much he likes you, loves you. This familiar feeling that has settled comfortably at the bottom of his heart and back of his mind for the past four years, has only grown and never dwindled. It was times like this, where he didnât feel the burden of having to be alert about ongoing crime.
Only with you can he feel like Sim Jaeyun â a lovesick nineteen year old and not Spider-Man, the hero of Seoul.
âJaeyun, what do you want to do first?â You ask, pulling him through the blaring fun of the amusement park. He hums, following behind your excited figure, letting you choose what you wanted to do. âOh my god, look itâs a Spider-Man toy.â
You halt in your step and immediately turn towards him, eyes sparkling. âDo you want it Jaeyun? Iâll get it for you. Just so you arenât too sad that Spider-Man ghosted us today.â
He scoffs, as he examines the booth. Itâs a shooting game, and he knows that you suck at shooting. âYou sure, love? From what I remember, you arenât too good at shooting games,â he brings up and you shoot him a sharp glare before pestering him to pay the vendor.
You end up blaming your best friend for jinxing you, âYun, if you never said that, I could have shot them all down,â you complain, eyes morphing into slits as you pinpoint the blame on him. Jaeyun raises his two hands in innocence, face displaying an expression of shock, âI didnât even say anything wrong, plus you barely hit one out of five balloons.â
You groan, shushing him in embarrassment, âIf youâre such a professional, win it for me then,â you challenge him. Jaeyun shrugs, itâll be easy â all those years of shooting webs has made him extremely sharp, so he manages to shoot all the five balloons without any effort, snagging the coveted Spider-Man doll.
âYou sure you donât want it, Yun?â you question, âadd it to your collection as a fanboy.â He shakes his head, handing you the plush toy, âI won it for you. Plus, I like the ones you gave me more.â
It overwhelms you, the stark sincerity in his voice. And you feel the sudden need to kiss him, not like youâve never thought of it before (more like youâve thought about it too much), because Sim Jaeyun with his bright personality and handsome face is far too good to be real.
But you canât bring yourself to be that direct, so you settle for a kiss on the cheek. A quick movement and a short peck before you let out a loud giggle, walking over to the next booth with a stupid smile plastered on your face, leaving Jaeyun in shock and awe â eyes wide and mouth agape before he bites back a smile.
He thinks itâs too hard to conceal his feelings any longer; that he has to tell you soon, next week, tomorrow, or maybe even now. And he feels the three words, eight letters, at the tip of his tongue.
As always, though, he swallows them back down, throat dry as he stares at you. The fear of rejection far too intense for him to handle.
How ironic, that Sim Jaeyun could fight criminals with equipped daggers that could kill him in one swift motion, yet he could not say three simple words to a girl who has pierced his heart and filled his stomach with butterflies.
iii. in a sticky predicament
âNow on to our very own Spider-Manâs upcoming love story that seems to be wilting by the looks of it â Spidey, in fact, did not show up to his date with yn, who was seen with another boy at the amusement park. Our very own hero is facing multiple accusations that he may be, like his representative colour, a red flag. However, a minority of fans have brought up a speculation; that the boy we call Spider-Man, might be the very boy accompanying yn yesterday unmasked. Thatâs all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.â
âDonât you think thatâs insane Jaeyun?â you laugh, throwing your head back into the soft pillow on his bed, âthey think youâre Spider-Man.â
âRight,â he trails on, arms crossed as he leans on the doorframe, âthatâs so impossible.â
His laugh awkward as his fingers find themselves combing through his hair for the nth time. And you turn your head, looking at him with suspicion. Right, thatâd be crazy, insane maybe, you think, because Sim Jaeyun was well â him. Heâs slightly awkward, likes physics, and hell heâs scared of bugs, so itâll be mind blowing if he ever was the real Spider-Man.
But impossible, you think, might not be true. And you sit up on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on him. Same physique, similar height, heâs athletic, and he shoots well. Plus, from your ever so short encounter with Spider-Man saving you from getting your wallet stolen, Spider-Man is just as awkward as your best friend.
Could he really be Spider-Man? But heâs a fan of Spider-Man, wouldnât it be weird if he was such a big fan of himself. Still, you couldnât rule out the possibility.
âJump,â you instruct, âhang upside down on the walls.â Jake is shocked, as his heart accelerates in nervousness at the thought of being found out.
âDonât be weird,â he groans, trying to keep calm, âthatâs literally humanly impossible.â His mind racing, finding a way to get out of this sticky situation, because as much as he wants to tell you his identity, the last way he wanted you to find out was through the internet. Also, maybe because you looked slightly angry, with your eyebrows furrowed and hands on your head, and Jaeyun didnât want you to be mad at him.
You were deep in thought, was that why Spider-Man didnât show up yesterday â because he is actually Sim Jaeyun, and he couldnât be there as two different people.
That might be a stretch, but it isnât an impossible scenario. You tilt your head, quickly grabbing the pillow you were just lying on, throwing it at him, âcatch.â
He catches it easily, with one hand even, as his face contorts into an expression of surprise. âDonât scare me like that, love,â he says. But youâre too flabbergasted at the fast reflexes of your best friend to even comprehend his complaint.
âYou could really give Spider-Man a run for his money, you know?â you chuckle, as you tell yourself that no matter how much it might fit, itâs probably just a coincidence, âput on that suit of yours and fight crime.â It was all a coincidence, right?
âWhat if Iâm scared of getting hurt,â he pouts, and you snort. With Sim Jaeyunâs level of cowardice, thereâs no way he could ever be out there fighting.
âThen Iâll protect you,â you say, âIâll be your sidekick, all you have to do is stand there and look pretty.â
He grins, walking over to stand in front of you; hands moving to ruffle your hair. âOkay love, you lead, Iâll follow.â
iv. tell him to grow a pair
Your newfound popularity brings you more drawbacks than benefits â by that you mean the sudden fury of boys approaching you to ask for your number. It annoys Jaeyun more than it does you, as your best friend flaunts a new irritated look that youâve rarely seen.
âThatâs the sixth fucking boy,â he grumbles, eyes rolling before he glares at the fleeting figure of Lee Heeseung, the boy who just asked you for your number, the boy who Jaeyun lashed out at.
âBe kind, Yun,â you chuckle, amused at your best friendâs sudden grumpiness, âI mean, Iâve never lashed out at any of the girlâs who ask you out.â
âNo one has asked me out.â he groans, âare you flaunting right now?â
âYes I am,â you reply, âdonât worry Jaeyun, youâll always be my loser.â
He lets out a loud exaggerated sigh as he rolls his eyes, leaning against the locker as he grits his teeth in exasperation.
You wonder why no girl has ever hit Sim Jaeyun up. Granted, he wasnât the best looking guy back in middle school with his choice of brightly coloured clothes that blinded eyes, but you think that was part of the appeal â how awkwardly adorable he was. Now, with his upgraded fashion style and bubbly personality, itâs a miracle no one has tried their shot at bagging him. Not that you wanted anyone to.
Sim Jaeyun is yours, just as much as you are his.
And he thinks the exact same. Despite what you think, he has had a girl approach him, professing his love only to get turned down by his puppy-like smile and his confession that he liked you.
Though his body exudes jealousy, there's a slight bit of relief at the fact that you turned all six of the boys down, telling them that you had a crush on someone else. He hopes, prays, begs that the person you think about is him. He furiously looks for a sign, because heâs tired of all this, and he needs a sign from you before he can courageously make the first move.
After school, the both of you walk down the buzzing streets with carts of street food lined up along the roadside. Your fingers bunching the fabric of Jaeyunâs shirt as he navigates the both of you through the crowded streets, making a beeline for his favourite churros shop.
âI told you the queue would be long, itâs Friday night,â you whine, mentally counting the number of people in front of you. Fifteen, thatâll take a while. âWe should have just ordered in pizza and binge on Netflix shows.â
âFine, we can eat churros another day,â Jaeyun pouts and you curse yourself for saying that even when you knew he wanted to eat churros.
âItâs fine, we can stay, since weâre already here.â You stop him, pulling him back beside you in the queue, âbut you canât leave to do something else like last time, you have to wait with me.â
The glow on his face coupled with the adorable smile on his lips makes you stare in awe. And you think Sim Jaeyun is so pretty and handsome all at once itâs a crime to look as good as him. His lips, god, they look so kissable and soft, you wish you could kiss them at any given time â now, tomorrow, forever.
But the moment doesnât last long, as faint screams and shouts travel from a small corner shop down the road. âThief, thereâs a thief on the run.â
You watch as Jaeyunâs eyes widen, body in a sudden scramble, âuhm, Iâm gonna go to the toilet for a moment,â he says amidst the whispers of the crowd, âstomach ache, you know.â Running off before you can give him a reply, brushing past people hurriedly into a random narrow street.
You shrug it off again because it isnât the first time Jaeyun has acted out of character. However, you canât help but realise it was always when there was crime.
The questions and suspicions floating around your head for the past week resurface as you focus on the narrow street your best friend had disappeared into.
Oh my god.
You blink profusely, pinch yourself, and rub your eyes because this is mind blowing information. You canât seem to believe an ounce of what your eyes have just seen. Was that Spider-Man who just swung out of the very same alleyway?
Sim Jaeyun is Spider-Man. And your conclusion only seems to solidify as you hear the muffled voice coming out of his masked persona.
âOops, sorry,â and a careless swing as he tries his best to manoeuvre through the crowd, accidentally knocking over a little girlâs ice cream cone, âI'm sorry, please donât cry.â
Yup, thatâs Jaeyun. His voice now so familiar you hit yourself in the head for not realising sooner. And his utterly helpless tone as he tries to soothe the little girl â you could recognise it from a mile away.
âIâll get you a new one, Iâm sorry,â he shouts as he spins his web and shoots again, lamppost to windows to signboards before effortlessly catching up with the thief; who was now bound to the wall by web.
âSorry,â he groans for the fourth time in a matter of minutes, âitâs my job â i mean, not that you deserve to get away no, i just-â he rambles and you giggle at his comment. Seems like Sim Jaeyun will never change, even as a superhero or as your best friend.
âI meant to say, justice has been served,â he nods, seemingly proud of his awkward catchphrase that you were sure he stole from the superhero movie you watched with him a few weeks back. âI have to get back now, someone awaits me you know - i mean, no- Iâm not supposed to give details of my personal life. Iâll just- stop talking⌠yeah.â
And you watch again as he swings back down the street. With his identity revealed, you canât help but look up to Jaeyun even more now â a top student and a superhero? How unfair the world is. How lucky you were to have him as your best friend.
âHey! Arenât you yn? Spider-Man, is that your girl?â You shrink, head down as you fix your gaze on the floor immediately, cheeks a rosy red. God, you think, this is a little embarrassing.
You feel his presence before you see his shadow morphing with yours on the floor, âhey yn,â and you look up to see the superhero, whoâs panting ever so slightly, stand in front of you in his glory. âSorry about last week, I was well busy, and I know it isnât any-â
âItâs fine,â you stop him from blabbering, a toothy grin plastered on your face. And Jaeyun feels proud, maybe him saving someone has put Spider-Man back into your good graces, maybe he has a chance with you as Spider-Man.
âI had fun with my crush at the amusement park. Actually, thank you for the opportunity, I kissed his cheek for the first time and it felt like heaven.â
He pauses, and Jaeyun wants to rip off his mask at the very moment to kiss you. You liked him back, fuck, you actually liked him back.
âAh,â he says after a while of tense silence, his hands rubbing the nape of his neck, âthatâs amazing. So- do you⌠I mean- so youâre like, in love with him? Wait love might be a little uhm-â
âYeah, Iâm in love with him.â
Time stops as your eyes pierce into his, and he can swear at this moment that you knew exactly who he was. He thinks itâs over, and he can finally ask you to be his â because heâs hellbent on loving you, for the past four years he has been.
âSeems like this crush of yours needs to step up his game, or I might just steal you away,â he remarks lightheartedly, uncaring of the sea of cameras pointing towards the both of you.
âYeah, it seems like he does. Maybe you should visit him one day, tell him that itâs about time to man up, or Iâll be the one asking for his hand.â You shoot a knowing glance at him, a confident smirk on your face.
Jaeyun chuckles, âright, Iâll be sure to tell him that, wouldnât want him to lose such a special girl.â
âThanks Spidey, I wonder what Iâd ever do without you,â you laugh, patting his suited shoulder before he once again swings away into the narrow alleyway, only to appear minutes later donned in his usual faded ripped jeans and white shirt, hair tousled and smile wide as he runs back to you.
And heâs before you all again, this time as your best friend and you swoon as his adoring eyes and elated smile. âYou okay?â You ask, hand raising to fix his hair.
âI couldnât be better.â
v. Batman vs Spider-Man, a battle of the mans
âSpider-Man should now change his name into wing man as he is spotted once again, engaging in conversation with the very same yn from last week. Spider-Man was not only ruthlessly dumped by her, but was also asked to quote on quote visit her crush to ask him to grow a pair. Seems like she is off the market for our poor lonely superhero, who canât seem to catch anyone except for criminals. Thatâs all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.â
âSeems like you canât catch a break, huh Yun?â You point out as you switch the television off, ânot only defamed into a wing man but also asked to grow a pair.â
And it seems like he really canât because ever since you confronted him about being Spider-Man, his days have been filled with even more ruthless teasing, and weird questions.
âHow do you even piss as Spider-Man?â
âCan I swing from building to building?â
âCan you hang upside down for ten minutes?â
âHow do you think you would fare against Batman in a fight?â
But thereâs one unasked question still hanging in the air. And Jaeyun really wants to address it, but it seems like youâve lost your confidence by the way the flesh of your cheeks heats an angry red at any slight hint of him being your crush â or as Jaeyun would like to call himself; your soon to be boyfriend.
âIâve grown a pair,â he says, shifting towards you, eyes trained on yours, âseems like someone has lost a pair.â
âHave notâ you argue, lies â you could barely look at Jaeyun now without a lovesick smile on your face. Neither could you muster up the courage to ask him to be your boyfriend. âAnd if you ever grew a pair, you would have asked.â
âAsk what?â He teases, face moving closer to yours. He looks too good, godly almost, with his black rimmed glasses perched at the bridge of his nose.
You pout, furrowing your eyebrows as you place a light slap on the middle of his chest. And he lets out a low chuckle, the vibrant sun rays flush through the sheer day curtains of Jaeyunâs room, a natural spotlight glowing on the both of you.
âFine,â he whispers, and you can feel his breath on your lips, itâs warm and inviting and you feel yourself leaning into him. âWill you be my girlfriend, love?â
You barely nod your head before he attaches his lips on yours. And you think youâre going to be obsessed with Sim Jaeyun â your fingers find their way through his hair and he sighs. Itâs like heâs imprinted in your heart and you want to kiss him again and again and again.
Sim Jaeyun with pretty eyes, pretty lips, a pretty face, a pretty being, breaks the kiss only to kiss you again and again as you wish.
âDid I swing into your heart, love?â He smirks as you playfully roll your eyes at his antics. âAre we not going to bring up the time when you fell after showing me your web skills?â
He tackles you down and you giggle, âI can fall from the sky, I can fall from a tree, but the best way to fall is to fall in love with you.â He grins idiotically before racing out the door as you cringe at yet another bad pick up line from him.
âSim Jaeyun, are you kidding me? I wonder how you even make up quotes like âwith great power comes great responsibilityâ with that mind of yours.â
âWhat mind? You mean my mind â the place where you always are?â
You groan in fake disgust as you watch your boyfriend (boyfriend!) smile proudly at his idiotic pick up lines. The both of you drinking sunlight as if itâs love â where heâs all yours and youâre all his.
uncut. confessions i canât make ( a crumpled confession letter written by a sixteen year old sim jaeyun )
hi dear yn,
i like you. itâs been a while since you took my breath away we first met. this is my first time ever writing a confession so i donât really know what to say write⌠i guess itâs like writing physics notes so maybe it wouldnât be too hard i hope
chapter one part one : what i like about you
i like the way you smile laugh, how your eyes turn into the tiniest of crescents, it makes me proud of the jokes i crack (that physics joke was good was it not). i like the feeling i have around you â itâs warm and fuzzy, natural â talking everyday without any forceful conversation, laughs or attention.
part two : why you should like me
i think you should like me because i like you. i think you should like me because iâm smart! i can help you with physics and maths. i donât really know what else i can give you but iâll try my best to make you smile everyday.
will you be my girlfriend? Oh god, this is so weird i actually like you a lot and
(a bunch of scribbling)
forget it. youâll never like me back.
dear mister sim jaeyun,
after three hours of fighting for my life, i have finally gotten my hands on the most treasured item of the year, a sixteen year old youâs crumpled confession letter to me. and since you wrote it in a physics notes style like a loser, as your girlfriend i have no choice but to follow you (so that you donât feel lonely)
one. what i like about you
everything. i like your hair, i like your face. I like the way you say sorry to every single person in the neighbourhood while courageously saving them. i like your pick up lines on some days and how you have the guts to challenge Batman to a fight when i proclaim him as my favourite hero. i like the way you laugh and i like the way you smile. i am especially enchanted by your kicked puppy ways and easily manipulated demeanour where i can always get what i want without question.
two. why you should like me
iâm your girlfriend and youâre my girlfriend. (you are my girlfriend) you should stop staring at me with those eyes, it gives me the ick (i meant that in a âwhatever you say pretty boyâ kind of way) you should like me because i am the person who likes you the most. (i love you so much)
will i be your girlfriend? obviously i will, i mean who can say no to you.
love you babe,
spider-manâs (your) hot sidekick
Š SJYUNS
#⪊⪨ mikaela's#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fluff#enhypen soft hours#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#sim jaeyun#enhypen jake#jake x reader#enhypen jake x reader#jake fluff#jaeyun fluff#jake imagines#enhypen jake imagines#jaeyun imagines#jaeyun x reader
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Clingy!Patrick Bateman x Insecure!Fem!Reader | NSFW HEADCANON
â A/N: This is the winner of my poll about headcanons, you can leave comments about what headcanons you want me to do in the future, hope you like this one!
â LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [buy me a coffee]đ
Being Bateman's lover was not easy at all â the constant attention, the greedy looks and flirtatious smiles from everyone who saw him actually made you sad, even insecure.
And Patrick knew that, and he didn't really like it, so no matter where you were â at his or your family's house, at some random party or dinner â his strong hands were always on you, stroking your back, squeezing your hips and groping your ass. Sometimes he'd even get his hands on your breasts, and you'd squeal with surprise and embarrassment, but Bateman would just chuckle and try to play with your nipples through the fabric of whatever you were wearing, especially if you didn't have a bra.
If you ever told him that you were insecure or even afraid that he was having an affair, it would certainly boost his ego and he couldn't help but laugh at your worries, while the sadness and pain would tear him apart from the inside because of how many times he had told you that he had his eyes only on you.
Your anxiety would only encourage him to be more overprotective and intimate with you, even though Patrick never liked the intense physical contact during sex, he would let you hold him tight as he fucked you senseless. He would let you pull on his silky hair while he devoured your soaped pussy, moaning as you grinded against his face. Marking would become his favorite kink, after each passionate love session he would admire the result of his work, tracing his fingers along his bite marks. It would hurt but you could take it because you were his good girl.
Even one mention of another woman â Jean, Evelyn or Courtney â would be enough for him to bend you over the back of his white couch, pull up your skirt and give you several hard slaps on your butt.
"Mhm! Pat-Patrick!" You moaned as you felt his long fingers work between your legs, smearing your wetness along your delicate petals.
"Have I told you how much I hate it when you say things like that?" Bateman growled into your ear after kissing the length of your neck. "Have I told you that, brat?"
"Yes," your voice trembled with the excitement of his firm hips rubbing vigorously against your dripping cunt. "I'm sorry, Daddy!" You whimpered, trying to get up, but he pushed you back, pressing your face against the couch and grabbing your throat.
"No, no, no, little one. You're not going anywhere until I say so."Â
With that, Bateman would undo his pants with ease, grunting from how painfully hard he was â his throbbing dick would pop out of his expensive underwear, and he wouldn't care to prepare you properly after your bad behavior.
Savagely, Patrick would thrust into your little hole up to his heavy balls, burying his digits in your soft skin and closing his eyes from the blissful sensation of your hot, soaked pussy.
"F-fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart," he hissed and gave another long stroke, reveling in your lewd sounds as you tried your best not to cum here and now â you didn't want to feed his ego any more, because this bastard was arrogant enough. "Mmmm, I'm gonna fuck all those stupid thoughts out of your head!"
His low panting echoed in your voice like a hypnotic melody, and the only thing you could do was to bend even lower and spread your legs for him as he railed you hard, spanking your ass and yanking your hair.Â
Bateman always kept his word and maybe one day you would finally believe you were his only one, yet sometimes Patrick thought you were doing it on purpose as you just loved being fucked like a whore.
P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I donât have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
#american psycho#patrick bateman x reader#patrick bateman imagine#patrick bateman#patrick bateman x female reader#patrick bateman x you#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher x you#slasher smut#patrick bateman smut#patrick bateman headcanon#christian bale smut#christian bale x reader#patrick bateman reader#christian bale#patrick bateman imagines
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Hi â¤ď¸đĽ°đŤśđť I really love your writing style and enjoy all your content. Sorry if this is a bothersome question but your name and Norman profile picture made me curiousâŚ. Would you be willing to write some headcanons for Daryl? Hope you have a nice week đđť
Daryl Dixon Headcanons SFW & NSFW
masterlist ->Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader ->Warning: MDNI! fluff and some smut ->A/N: Thanks for the request, TWD was my first fandom so Iâm always down to write for it, especially Daryl. :)Â I just did some general Fem!Reader ones since that's what I mainly write for but DO let me know if there's any other specific ones you'd like to see. I also hope you have a nice week! Sorry this took so long!
SFW:
He would show affection through acts of service, (getting you something you needed during a run, fixing something around the house that you mentioned was broken, or cleaning your gun if you were too busy to do it. He has a lot to think about throughout the day, but he keeps tabs on things you like or need, heâs always thinking about you.
Around Alexandria when you both were there you would both spend a-lot of time in silence together just being in each others presence. He would be working on his bike and you would be reading a book just being together.
In general, there becomes an almost rhythm to your relationship, you walk together, eat together, go on runs together, most of the time you both just enjoy simply being together. Having the privilege to be alive and be next to one other. Eventually people start assuming one doesn't go somewhere without the other, "Y/N and Daryl this, Y/N and Daryl that. It's cute.
Not a fan of PDA, he was never that kind of person but he likes it when you fix a piece of his hair that's out of line, or adjust his vest so it sits better on him. He likes to know you care, he does get butterflies when you call him handsome even though he doesn't show it. Aside from a little smile and a dip of his head, "You don't know what you're talkin' bout girl.
He always admires your strength, you've made it this far and he admires the skills you've picked up along the way. Someone is doing something wrong that you're a pro at? "You're doing that wrong ya know, let me get Y/N, she'll show you how to do it right."
He always had a crush on you, always was looking out for you. You caught his eyes lingering quite some times over the campfire before you were both together, he's look away quick but he knew you saw. What can he say, he loved seeing you blush.
Once you're together he's less reserved about his staring and you'll catch his eyes roaming your body more than a couple times.
Not a master in flirting whatsoever but when he held out his hand, arm all the way outstretched to give you a bundle of wildflowers you were a goner. "Got ya these, said you liked em' found some while I was out."
He's a light sleeper but he loves to lay on your chest and feel you run your fingers through his hair it knocks him out in five minutes minimum.
Will avoid the regular medics in town and just come right to you, you've stitched him up for this long and he likes it when you fix him up and scold him at the same time for not being more careful.
"D, honey this is going to need stiches.."
"I know, you can just do it, you do it the same way as the doctors anyway."
"Fine, just- only if you get some antibiotics. Can't have you dying on me from a fuckin infection."
"Yea whatever you want girl."
Knows you can handle yourself but he always has an eye out for you when you're out on runs or outside the walls.
Boosts his ego when you ask him to flex and you swoon.
You both never got properly married, you haven't gotten around to finding rings but when a new group entered the town you just said you were his wife for simplicities sake and because why not you've been together so long and everyone else thinks of you two married. Loves hearing people call you Y/N Dixon.
NFSW:
He's home late often, it's a normal occurrence but sometimes when he's gone for a good long while and you hear his boots finally trudging up the stairs you get a little giddy, butterflies filling your stomach and you grow warmer just thinking about having him back in bed.
This can go one of two ways; number one is you welcome him into bed slowly, it's raining and he's cold to the bone just wanting to warm up with you. The room is dark and only the moonlight illuminates his broad shoulders as his body leans over yours, hips rolling into you with a smooth and rhythmic motion. His arms caging you in so your whole field of vision and mind is filled with him. His head would dip to your ear, teeth biting at your neck. "Missed ya', thought about you a lot on the way back."
The second way is when he's frustrated, the run didn't go how he wanted, didn't find enough, he's pent up more than usual and you welcome his release of energy with open arms. He's got one hand on your hips and the other gripping the headboard, knuckles turned white from gripping it trying to maintain some kind of composure when he's driving himself deeper inside you, eyes dark as your nails bite at his chest. Damp hair hanging in his face and the room is filled with the noise of your heavy breathing and the wetness between the both of you. "You like that? Fuck, yea ya do."
He prefers being together in the privacy of your own home, where he can put his undivided attention all on you. But that doesn't mean you both don't get creative.. you've fucked in almost every room, you both agreed the attic was just too out there, insulation is the biggest mood killer.
He's always been a man for quick showers, get clean and get out. But one time you were both on a time crunch and you had a great idea to share the shower, save water right? He couldn't keep his eyes off of you, the way the soap and water kept gliding over your body had him hard in like 0.5 seconds so needless to say you were late, something about making out underneath the stream of water added something he couldn't get enough of. Bruises on the back of your thighs from him fucking you against the shower wall lingered for some time.
He loves seeing you get ready in the morning, he's got the perfect view from the bed into the bathroom to watch the whole process, sometimes if he's feeling extra needy he'll come into the bathroom and gently bend you over, bringing himself out of his sweatpants and watching your face through the mirror as he slides himself in.
More than once he's thought about you riding him on his bike, with you just wearing his vest. While it's stationary of course, he's not that reckless.
Definitely does not care if you're on your period, you really think a little blood will stop him if you both want each other? Hell no. He didn't understand why you thought it was an issue the first time it came up.
Not incredibly jealous but it creeps in on him sometimes, when a new guy shows you a little more attention than he liked he gets cold with you later that day. Not because he thinks you'll cheat on him or the guy might make a move but that he thinks he himself isn't good enough for you, which you just won't stand for so on a few separate occasions you'll set him down on the couch and get down on your knees and remind him how much you love him.
He's a man that respects his woman so he's more than happy to return the favor, hands held tight on your thighs that are wrapped around his head, his tongue darting around and his lips wrapping around you and pulling his favorite noises from you. "Look at you, fuck, gonna cum for me? Atta girl."
He's careful about where he finishes, he wants nothing more than to dive completely into you and let you take all of him but if you're both not ready for what may come from that he's fine with painting your stomach or more preferably your chest, he's a tits guys for sure.
Aftercare is quiet and calm with him, both of you cleaned up and your head on his chest, the window is open to cool you both down and so the smoke from his after sex cigarette can sneak out.
#twd daryl#daryl dixon#daryl fanfiction#daryl twd#daryl dixion imagine#daryl headcanon#daryl x reader#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x y/n#twd headcanons#twd x reader#twd x y/n#headcanon list#headcanon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x y/n#twd daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon smut#daryl x reader smut#daryl dixon x reader smut
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Over Ice (Part 3)
Hockey!Rhysand x Reader
Summary:Â Anon Req: Sheâs walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out heâs the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 3147
(Part 1) (Part 2)
_________________________________________
Rhysandâs face hurts.
His hands do, too, but the scrapes and splits in the skin of his knuckles have nothing on the cut in his lip, which currently stings from the rush of alcohol that passes over his lips.
Itâs cold, crisp, and free, so itâs the best beer heâs had all night.
Hell, his cheek is bruised too. Itâs not a Picasso of mottled yellows, greens, and purples yetâcurtesy of the time he spent poking and prodding the knotted bump in one of the locker room mirrors, post shower.
The only thing that isnât bruised is his ego because he more than won that fight against the Penguinâs center, Kallias Winterborough. He fucking wiped the ice with him and then proceeded to use the rest of his team to clean house.
Somewhere in the Hockey Houseâaptly named for the number of players that reside in the five-bedroom, two-story craftsmanâyou and his cousin meander around, violet Solo Cups in hand because the red ones are so overrated. Plus, one of their biggest rivalsâthe Foxesâwear crimson, and no one at Velaris University would ever be caught repping that team at one of his parties.
It's a move heâs regretting a little too much right now, unable to revel in the Batâs big win with his lip split in two. Fucker got him good, he can admit, but never aloud. Cassian would never let him live it down and Azriel would shoot him a scathing glare at the mere mention of another schoolâs team under their roof.
Az takes his superstitions seriously.
âRhys, dude.â Cassian stumbles in through the square arch connecting the spacious living room to the cozy kitchen. Itâs the only thing Rhysand doesnât like about the Hockey House: no open floorplan. That means, when he plays host as he so often does because he canât afford a hangover from hell following most mornings, he canât see whatâs going on in the kitchen if heâs in the living room or vice versa.
He canât see people sneaking up the stairs, and even though he keeps his room locked at all times following the Cassian Incident⢠that included two leggy blondes and the Frozen Four first place trophyâannouncing the next afternoon that blondes do, in fact, have more funâhe still doesnât trust a horde of university students on a high from their win not to do anything stupid.
Speaking of stupidâŚCassian slides to a halt beside him. Heâs so eager to share whatever the hell with Rhys that he overshoots, slamming his hip into the counter. His friend howls, and much unto Rhysâ surprise, others join in, like itâs some kind of victory cry and not one that says âI just bashed my hip in, somebody help me, please.â
Rhysand is in no mood to help.
âWhatâs up, Cass?â Rhys sighs, frowning when he tips his bottle back to his mouth only to find it empty. He hadnât realized how much he drank; thought he was nursing it with the way his lip burns.
Cassianâs face contorts from pain back to amused like a flick of a switch and the pain was long forgotten. His nose is permanently crooked from the number of times heâs broken it during fights both on and off the ice, and heâd be missing one of his pearly whites if he hadnât just gotten it fixed earlier this week. Thankfully, his moustache has been shaved off for tonight, showing off his plump, pink lips. His brunet hair is the longest on the team, just brushing the tops of his massive shoulders, and thankfully. On one side, itâs tucked tightly behind his ear, showing off the gold ring he punched through it on a dare at their first party freshman year.
Cassianâs hazel eyes have a spark in them that 1: Rhys has seen too many times, and 2: never means anything good.
Rhysand narrows his own, breaking that eager contact to scour the kitchen for another beer because goddammit, heâs going to need it with the way his friend is all but shaking with excitement.
âHave you found your nurse yet?â Cassian asks, trailing him around the marble slab counter.
âMy what?â Rhysand side-steps a couple making out so hard that they go crashing into the first thing that isnât each other: the wall. The petite girl with bright blue hair whimpers loudly, and the noise is swallowed up by the guy thatâs sticking his tongue straight down her windpipe.
It looks grosser than it seems, Rhys defends when a pang of want slaps him right in the chest.
âYour nurse, dude,â Cassian whines. He slips on a rogue wet patch on the obsidian floor tiles and now Rhysand has another thing to dislike in this house. All he needs is someone cracking their skull open on his kitchen floor or the couple to fall and have his teeth through her lips from the impact. âYou know, cause youâre all injured.â He waves flippantly towards Rhysandâs wounds.
âI donât need a nurse,â Rhys answers, confused. He pulls open the fridge and snags two beers off of the shelf Cassian and two of his other roommates have dedicated it to. He hands one to his friend, who pops the top off with his teeth, and Rhys raises an unimpressed brow. âI didnât get that hurt.â Plus, heâs already been to see the team trainer for his shiners.
He busies himself with the beer opener thatâs stuck to the side of the fridge, then grabs the roll of paper towels from their holder to wipe up the mess Cassianâs leaving footprints with. Well, he unrolls a few and tosses them onto the spill, anyway.
âNo, I mean like a lady nurse.â Cassian waggles his brows. âSomeone who can kiss you better, maybe even give you a handââ
And, well, that might just help his mood.
âHey.â Azriel breezes into the kitchen like heâs still on his skates. He has his own cup in hand, filled with water. Rhys know this because heâs never seen Azriel drink anything other than water and the occasional coffee. He takes his training more seriously than half of the team, which bodes well for Rhys because he always has a gym buddy, but sometimes, he wishes his friend would let loose, even if it meant seeing a girl. Or sleeping with one. âHeads up.â
The warning has Rhys standing straighter, ready to abandon his beer on the counter to play his role as captain and the one in charge of the party. His roommates naturally defer to him in house affairs because theyâre used to it, but really, Rhys doesnât have much more room in his packed schedule for warding off drunk students and stopping fights.
The last thing he needs tonight is to find himself in the middle of a fight.
âRhys!â A perky blonde squeals, and his shoulders drop for a second only to tense right back up when his cousin throws herself into his arms.
He catches her with an oof, spitting out her wild locks that somehow always end up everywhere. He loves his cousin dearly, like a sister, but why is she here right now?
He doesnât see you following your roommate into the kitchen, jaw slack like itâs been since you first saw the Hockey House lit up in all of its glory. The place is absolutely massive, it looks like it could rival one of the houses on Greek row.
The kitchen is moody yet warm. The dark tiles match the onyx-stained flat arch you just walked through. The lighter gray marble countertop brightens the room, and the deep blue cabinets paired with the soft lighting paints the room in perfect synchrony.
Itâs absolutely stunning.
Neither of you see the other at first. Rhys because heâs still trying to blink Morâs hair from his eyes and you because youâre entranced by the interior design of the home. Thereâs no way five boys could possibly live here, let alone five hockey players. Itâs a bit of a mess with the party raging around you, yes, but you havenât seen one hole in the drywall, not one forgotten dish nor a pair of boxers left of the bathroom floorâyou checked.
Because you were using the restroom of course, you werenât looking for that specific reason.
âHey, Mor,â Rhys greets when she finally detaches herself from him. She doesnât go far, only stepping back enough to introduce you to him. âWhat are you doing here?â
Violet eyes clash with yours, drawing your heart to a standstill. He looks just as good as he did when you were sprawled out on his chest: dark hair clean and mussed through, red lips parted as if the words he wants to say are stuck in his throat.
The only thing different about him now is that cut in his lip and the redness to his cheek from his fight on the ice that you bore witness to.
The memory replays in your mind again, awakening tingles in your body that shouldnât be. And just how youâre praying for them not to, they converge right between your thighs, settling in nice and hot and begging for attention as the sight of him with burning violet eyes as he decks his opposition across the jaw replays.
It really shouldnât have been as hot as it was, and he himself shouldnât be as hot as he is, either.
You hold yourself still, focusing eighty percent on your attention on trying to calm your eager bits down and the other twenty percent on making sure you donât look constipated while doing so.
Rhys blinks at you and you return his blank stare, watching, waiting to see if he recognizes you, too.
Oh, he does.
âWe came to see your game tonight,â she says, as if it isnât obvious from your attire. The attire that Rhys is currently dragging his eyes down, drinking in every inchâall four of themâof the jersey your roommate forced you into tonight. You watch his eyes flare as he reads the number across your chest. His number, youâre just now realizing.
Heat floods your cheeks but youâre unable to bolt like you so desperately want to. Your heart is beating three times as fast in your chest as he slowly, slowly, rakes his gaze up from your legs that are glued to the floor, all the way to your eyes, that are glued to his face.
âThis is (Y/N),â Mor announces, gesturing to you with a flourish. When you make no move forward to greet them, her red nails curl around the hem of your jersey and yank.
You stumble forward, and the trance is broken. Unfortunately, so is your face, because you slip in something on the tiles and are plummeting face-first into the ground. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, lips parted to scream or groan, whichever your mind catches up to firstâ
The impact never comes. Strong hands grip your arms, stopping you from eating tile. Youâre too stunned to speak, even when youâre planted back on your feet and staring into the chest you were lying on only this afternoon.
Rhysand Cunningham.
Jesus, youâre really going to have to stop saying his full name like that. Itâs creepy.
âEasy now,â Rhys says, making sure youâre steady. You somehow find the courage to look him in the eyes, hastily tamping down the mortification that threatens to consume you.
As soon as your eyes lock, itâs like magic.
Thereâs no other way to describe whatever is happening between the two of you right now. His light touch is searing, and so are his eyes as he scans your face, making sure youâre not hurt.
Rhysâ abandoned beer sits precariously close to the edge of the counter, and Cassian accidentally knocks it off with his elbow when he dodges a playful swat Mor tosses his way. It goes crashing to the floor, startling you and Rhys from your trance.
You jump, gaze following the noise. Rhysâ hands slip from your body and you shiver at the cold that replaces him, even though itâs stifling in this house with the number of bodies packed into it. You manage one large step back that he doesnât seem to notice because heâs already snatching the paper towels from where he put them last and barking at passerby to âbe fucking careful.â
âI, uh,â you stutter, and holyfuckingshit, heâs leaning over to clean up the mess. You get a full view of that toned ass; despite the jeans heâs wearing. Itâs perfect, round like an apple, juicy like one too, you bet. The sudden urge to lean over and sink your teeth into it hits you like a semiâ âI need to use the bathroom.â
You scurry away from your roommate and her cousin like itâs your ass thatâs just been bitten into.
Rhys grumbles the entire time he cleans up the spilt beer. Cassian tried to help, his chocolate eyes wide and sad, spouting off apologies like he did something much worse than break a fucking bottle, but hissed when he cut his thumb on a sharp edge. Rhys had pushed him away from the scene immediately after that.
He wonders if Cassian is going to bound off into the living room and find himself a nurse of his own, now.
âHey, where did your friend go?â Rhys asks Mor whoâs chewing on a cherry stem. He grimaces, not even knowing where those came from.
âRoommate,â Mor answers pointedly, serving him a harsh look that only confuses the hockey player.
âOkayâŚwhere did your roommate go?â He clarifies, eyes sweeping the room for you. Disappointment prickles at his skin just as much as the look his cousin is shooting him. Heâd gotten his look at you alright, but heâs suddenly feeling like the single up-down he gave you was not nearly enough.
âTo the bathroom,â she answers, rounding the counter, eyeing all of the opened bottles of liquor on top. She must not see anything she likes, because he doesnât reach for anything. âWhy?â
Why? Because you brought her here and I want to be nice? Rhys thinks. I want to get to know her, maybe somewhere privateâ
âI didnât really get to introduce myself.â Is what he goes with.
Mor snorts, rolling her eyes because she is not falling for that one. âSheâs off limits.â
âThen why did you bring her here?â Rhys blurts, unable to stifle the words before they slip out. Damn beer.
âBecause we wanted to see your game,â Mor replies, watching her cousin closely.
If you wanted to see my game, you shouldnât have warned me against your roommate, he thinks, and then cringes.
âWell, thanks for coming, cuz,â he offers, because thereâs no good rhyme or reason to start arguing with her. Especially when both of their parents are just phone calls away.
Heâd rather be getting the third degree from Mor than his mother, anyway.
Rhys swiftly changes the subject. âHope you enjoyed me kicking some ass.â
Morâs tight face melts into amusement. She laughs, tossing her head back on her shoulders. âYeah, I really did enjoy that, actually.â
Itâs at that exact moment that Rhys catches sight of you again. Youâre caught halfway in the archway of the kitchen, presumably on your way back from the bathroom. Your lips are pulled into a smile as you giggle, and he wishes he could hear it over the gods-awful music. Your eyes are bright and he watches you brush a strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks pinkening with a blush that makes him wonder just whoâs putting that look on your face.
Rhys takes one step to the left and his entire body begins boiling with heat when he catches sight of one of his players speaking to you.
If sheâs off limits to me, then my players are off limits to her.
And thatâs exactly what they are, too, players. Morâs right, he canât end up letting one of his teammates fuck around with you, not when youâre so close to his cousin. Sheâd be devastated if you got hurt, and fuck it, he would too. Heâd kill one of his guys if they broke your heart.
Rhys doesnât talk sense into himself as he stalks your way, doesnât think about the repercussions or his actions when he slides up to your side, all rigid muscles and sharp looks.
âWhat do we have here?â he asks, drawing you away from the friendly conversation you were having with the handsome hockey player about the types of tapes and casts that can be used when treating different injuries.
Itâs James Attor, from your Athletic Training Techniques class. Youâd recognized him, but didnât know he played for the Velaris hockey team. Heâs a sophomore like you, and more interested in the injuries part of his sport than the actual scoring.
âOh, hey, Cap,â James greets, shrinking under the scrutinizing gaze of his team leader. He knows that look, itâs the one Rhys gets before heâs about to lose his mind on the ice. âI was just talking to (Y/N) aboutââ
âAbout nothing,â Rhys finishes for him, and you frown. What the hell is his problem?
âJames, wait,â you call, but itâs too late, heâs already slipped into the crowd of people dancing in the middle of the living room, and you donât have supervision to see through them.
Whirling around on your heel, you glare up at Rhys. âWhat was that?â
âWhat was what?â Rhys asks, striding back towards the kitchen. You decide that playing stupid doesnât look good on him. And neither does that split lip.
You canât believe you wanted to get closer. For a better look at his wounds, of course.
âThat!â You exclaim, throwing your arm out and pointing where you were just standing. It serves no purpose because Rhys isnât facing you, which only stokes your anger further. âI was talking to him!â
âYeah,â he rounds on his feet so fast you donât even see it coming and for the second time today, you run smack dab into the middle of his chest.
This time, you donât tumble into a pile of limbs.
You blink, dumbfounded.
âAnd Iâd prefer it if you donât,â Rhys finishes, chest tight. He feels on edge at the way your body pressed up against his, like lightning in his veins. He grits his teeth, willing the feeling to go away.
âYeah,â you scoff, tossing him your best glare. You cross your arms over your chest for effect, but all it does is make that skimpy shirt youâre wearing ride up more, and both Rhysâ eyes and throat catch at the sight of your creamy skin. Your word sounds like a threat when you say, âUnlikely.â
_________________________________________
Over Ice Taglist:
@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd
#acotar#azsazz#acomaf#acowar#rhys/reader#rhys x reader#rhysand#rhysand x reader#hockey!bat boys#hockey!rhysand#acotar au#acotar hockey au#rhysand hockey au#over ice
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INVITE ︜ęŚęˇâĄęˇęŚď¸ś
[Vampire!Beomgyu x Herbalist!Reader] [One shot]
Pairing: Vampire!Beomgyu x Herbalist!Reader
Genres: Romance, supernatural, fantasy, fluff, thriller.
Contains: suggestive themes, mentions of biting, blood, bleeding, injury, asphyxiation, profanity, a smidge of forbidden!love, romance.
Links: Masterlist
Note: Buckle up itâs a long one folks!
Summary: In your village, a rather handsome man captures your gaze. He truly does look as though he fell from the heavens above with his flawless face and body - something that had garnered quite the bit of attention from everyone in the village.
Though for some reason, you felt as though recently you had been seeing the mysteriously beautiful man more often, not only that, but he was in fact sharing glances, even smirking at you leaving you nothing but flustered. As lovely as all this isâŚ.
The last thing you expect is to find this man bleeding half to death at your door in the dead of night. Though unlike a victim, his eyes held the gleam of a predator instead. What had you gotten yourself into inviting him in?
There he is again. His brown, murky irises meet yours once more. A shiver runs down your spine at his gaze. Oh, how pretty he was. His luscious lips form a smirk, the same one he seemed to be giving you for the last few days, one so coy, borderline flirtatious. It had your heart palpitating faster than it should.
Your eyes flicker to the passer-byâs, everyone noticed his mysterious beauty, all glancing as they walked past, all enamoured by his alluring appearance. A group of women catches your sight, they seemed to make it their hobby to capture a glimpse of the handsome man every morning.
He seemed to have the entire village under his spell, then again, with the way he looked, you werenât surprised. The brown haired male almost looked as though he were of noble descent. From whatever rumours you heard, you found that he was actually an orphan who had recently moved in from another town. Though, this mysterious figure kept mostly to himself; not much information was known about him. It had you writhing in curiosity.
His dark brown locks fall to the base of his neck in a messy but attractive style complimenting his chic and sharp features. The man seemed to always wear some variation of a loose cotton top tucked into his trousers with laced up boots. A somewhat elegant ensemble, for someone amongst the commoners here. His sharp eyes, pointed and sharp nose and rosy, luscious lips, what was there not perfect about him? No wonder had the envious stares of men and a gaggle of women behind him.
His gaze meets your again sending a flush to your cheeks and you helplessly fumble turning the sign on your door to âOpen.â Damn him! He smirks momentarily before resuming his morning walk. You always admired him, but in no way were you desperate enough to approach! Goodness knows how high his ego must be, he canât possibly be ignorant to the amount of attention he gets! The last thing you needed was a pompous, self-absorbed customer or suitor! For now, youâd settle for merely observing the pretty boy from afar; who knows how many hearts heâs broken looking like that?
With a nonchalant hum, you enter your shop and begin rearranging the pots containing your various powdered remedies and peering at your to-do list. Being a herbalist, it isnât the most exciting job but it allows you to live somewhat comfortably. After all, the human body is frail, people are always sick. People always came to you for various cures, treatments and remedies for their sicknesses and maladies. You always felt a sense of satisfaction helping people, aside from the profit of course, but just seeing the same people who were once so frail and weak, come and thank you a few months later, it truly did warm your heart.
You continue to organise your display before returning behind to your station where you made your various creations - consisting of different potions, powders, concoctions and pastes, all made with herbs and plants. It was always quite tiresome to fetch such rare herbs and plants, thatâs what you did initially, taking days off just to get ingredients but thankfully you were now well off enough to afford a mercenary to collect ingredients for you on a monthly basis. It took a lot of risk and pressure off your shoulders.
Sighing, your mind drift backs to him. Why was he so damn handsome? It was unfair! Why was he always looking at you, exchanging glances, coy smiles, peering at your shop. What was his game?
Shaking your head, you resume pounding the mortar and pestle in hand, you had to focus. You had a business to run and work to do. Heâd probably grow tired and find some other face to gaze at. He probably already has a queue of suitors; pointless of you to waste your time on him, really. Yet, his ambiguity had you yearning to learn more. Youâd have to ask around once more when you had time.
The next day arrives, you open up your shop again; your body moving by a well-polished routine. Flipping the sign over, writing your offers for the day on the board outside, rearranging your display, wiping down the counter and making a list of ingredients to purchase and readying orders. It was a life that was supposedly satisfying, albeit dull for those who saw you.
Your ears perk as you hear the door open with a creak and a customer come in; a dreary expression. âOh itâs you? I have your order prepared. Itâs the powder, Iâve written a slip about the dosage and it should definitely help with your sleeplessness.â It had a mixture of Chamomile, Valerian Root and Passion flower; a potent combination in which a very small dosage should be mixed with water.
The client wearily smiles haphazardly placing the gold coins down and you slide them into your hand with a smile, âThank you. Donât hesitate to visit again, if thereâs any issues or want another batch!â Before you could ease up; another customer shoves past the previous one as they exit with a panicked expression, âBandages, cloth, something strong to wake someone up! Quick!â
Your lips part in shock, âSir? What- whatâs the matter?â The man snaps, âJust give me the damn things I need.â Glaring, you begin collecting some roll of linen bandages, and ragged cloth. âWhat do you mean wake someone up? I assume theyâre unconscious, from what though? I need the cause to determine the medication.â The man groans, âI- I donât know okay, she seems pale, looks like she lost a lot of blood. Havenât you heard?â
You stiffen, âWhat? Blood loss?â Your hands immediately drift to a particular bottle with a scent and taste strong enough to wake someone up from an unconscious slumber and leave an unfortunately wild aftertaste for days. Gathering the items, you place them on the counter, calculating the total.
âYes, the poor girl is as white as snow and frail as paper. Thereâs two puncture wounds on her neck and shoulders; bittenâŚâ The man shudders.
âŚBitten? A vampire? Surely not. Youâve heard of such things up in the North, a few folk tales here and there to scare the children from not playing outside too late or wandering off. Of course, you knew they existed, after all, there were many cases of such things. But here? In your quaint little village of peace and quiet?
That was the last thing you wanted!
âA vampire? In our village?â You write down the usage on the slip as the man slams down the coins on the counter. He grumbles, âDonât know and donât want to find out. Whatever it is, I want my niece to be healthy again! I told her not to go out so late! Did she listen? No, âcourse she didnât!â
Frowning, you watch as he shoves the items into his satchel and rushes off. Such a large incident, you wonder when it happened, must have been last night. It must be the talk of the town, then again, you werenât ever really the one to gossip.
Vampires, truly a fascinating enigma of supernatural phenomena. Humans but theyâre bloodsuckers. Truly the most charming and alluring. Perhaps even romanticised in most of the novels you had read, though the moment there was a mention of one in a town or village it had everyone running to their church in desperate prayer.
With a sigh, well, you suppose itâd do you good to close the shop before the sun sets and the streets get too empty. You werenât exactly planning to be the next meal, per se. As curious as you were, you werenât exactly thrilled at the prospect of getting drained, after all, you had people to heal and save.
The day passes on remarkably dull with a few hints of chatter and murmur regarding the incident that manages to fall on your ears. They had notified the incident to the church and the village head. Though, you doubt theyâd do anything except tell people to stay indoors.
âHeâs so dreamy, sheâs so lucky. To be carried in his arms, heâs just as chivalrous as he looks,â a woman who walks past your shop swoons to her friend. âBeomgyu truly is a Prince Charming in disguise, oh I find his mysterious and reserved nature so attractive, hiding such a warm heart under that cold exterior. I heard he carried her all the way to the nearest clinic at sunrise. If it werenât for him, sheâd be dead!â
Rolling your eyes, you canât help but find the ordeal amusing. Huh, Beomgyu. That was his name. He found the victim unconscious and brought her to the nearest clinic, so what? Isnât that what any morally-aligned human should be doing? A slight wave of relief hits you, you were wondering what youâd actually do in such a situation, if he had brought her to your clinic. Perhaps, your competitor clinics could gain a point this time. You werenât exactly eager to be involved with such things, then again, you were also curious about these beings.
Another few days, another victim, this time a man, unfortunately for you, he was brought into your shop, unconscious and barely alive. The sight of puncture wounds in person made you shiver. Indeed, it was the work of a vampire. Someone in your town had a lot of explaining to do. Until then, the villagers, including yourself, were sitting ducks waiting to be feasted on.
Another week, another woman, bit but still alive. You noticed a commonality, they were all left alive, but weak, having lost a lot of blood. A large contradiction to what youâve heard as vampires who drain their victims dry leaving them a hollow husk of skin. All of them couldnât remember the perpetrator (how convenient), then again, you suppose that vampiric powers were best not questioned. So you treated her as best as you could.
You hadnât expected to get so much income in the last few weeks, as morbid a thought that was. You were just glad no one had died. The last few weeks had generated a fear, a buzz amongst the people. Initially you hadnât cared much, but with the growing number and regularity of incidents, you felt uneasy, anxious even. Would you be next? The village was on high alert.
You flip over the sign to âOpenâ as usual and wipe the door clean from the dust gathering on it. Your breath hitches, right on cue. There he was. His walks with grace, the women slowing their paces to gaze at him in awe. His brown locks bounce and sway in the breeze; like the other times, his eyes meet yours. You couldnât move, almost transfixed on his gorgeously sharp eyes.
Everyday, he managed to meet your gaze. Give you that irritatingly sly little smirk, or smile and then walk by as if nothing occurred. Your heart pounds viciously as you force yourself to tear your gaze away. Did he know what he was doing to you?
Oddly enough, the following week, nothing happened. With such high expectations, you found your shop as dry as before, the people almost too afraid to relax. What happened? Did the vampire get caught? Decide they got bored?
Youâd heard the rumours, Beomgyu was being suspected. Though his loyal fans defended him to no end, particularly since he often visited the victims bearing care items, or even offering sweet words of sympathy. Half adored him, half suspected him. Hell, you werenât sure if all the men were just accusing him merely to get him kicked out of the village for their own greedy jealousy. After all, he garnered a lot of attention being as pretty as he was.
Either way, you stayed out of the chaos. You didnât know what to think; he seemed to mind his business, you saw him everyday, in the morning. You find it hard to believe, in fact; you knew heâd be going to a tavern where he works at (purely because of the indescribably long queue out of it during the day). You donât know, with a frustrated sigh, oh whatever! You had your shop to run. Why were you scrambling your brain as to whether you damned crush was a vampire or not?
The evening arrives and with the last of your medicines and remedies prepared for tomorrow; you flip the sign to âClosed,â before taking your keys and locking up the door and drawing the ragged curtains. Huh, you should probably replace those.
As the sun sets, you begin lighting the candles around the shop creating a dim hue of orange with wavering shadows that you always sought comfort in. You peer outside seeing the other houses and shops do the same; a warm glow illuminates onto the street. You know by nightfall, it would be pitch black. Not a single soul would dare wonder (particularly at this time!)
Heading up the rickety stairs, you find yourself in your home which rests atop your shop on the first floor. It wasnât much, but enough to live comfortably albeit its small size and cramped nature. You perform your nightly routine after having dinner as you feel the vines of exhaustion twist around you. Lying down, a fatigued sigh hits you, it always took you awhile to finally get to sleep. Your mind always rummages through things at this particular time, irritatingly enough. After awhile, your eyelids flutter closed under the weight of sleep and you drift off to the land of dreams and delusions.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
You shift in your bed uncomfortably, eyes still closed.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Your eyes slam open as you sit up abruptly, heart pounding. Nervousness fills within you to the brim. It sounded like it was coming from downstairs. Someone was knocking on your shop door. Oh absolutely not!
The knocks become more urgent and you hear a muffled cry. Fear squeezes you like a vice. With trembling legs, you walk forward peering out through the little gap in your curtains down below seeing a man hunched over, keeping one arm against the wall to keep himself standing. What the hell?
In the dark and with him hunched over, you couldnât see his face clearly yet instinct filled you with a sense of familiarity. You freeze as the manâs head suddenly snaps up and you squeak, stumbling back onto the floor to avoid being spotted. Damn it! Why were you such a coward?
Was he injured? WasâŚit the vampire youâd been hearing about? His clothes looked familiar and that messy wolffish haircut. Surely notâŚwere you hallucinating?
Taking a small, oil-lit lantern, you creep down the stairs, not making a single noise and settle on the first few steps, trying to decipher what they were saying.
ââŚHelp, pleaseâŚ, Iâm going-ah, to die at th-this rate. H-Heâll be back, please- I donât want to die. Please- wake up ah-fuck it hurts!â The pained grunts and groans make your heart twist and churn. Your feet itch to go, you never wished to leave anyone untreated especially when injured.
âPlease, I hope youâre awake. Bleeding-so- ah, much,â he rasps out. His tone deep and rich now strained with pain and agony. Biting your lip in hesitance, you timidly walk down the stairs, your lantern flame illuminates the walls just about and the stranger seems to pick up on the flickering light that now seems to illuminate your poor-excuse for curtains.
âOh- fuck. Are you there? Oh thank goodness! Oh please, please, let me in. Heâs still out there, and my bloodâŚwill only- ah, draw him near!â He grunts out harshly knocking on the door in desperation.
He? The vampire? Oh shit. Was this a victim of that maniac? Shuddering, you approach your front window sill drawing back the curtains and slightly opening the wooden shutters. You werenât sure about this; this would truly be a stupid way to die. But your heart couldnât take his pained cries. Youâd be failing your duty, what if you heard that he had died the next day? Oh guilt would eat you up for weeks!
The manâs face becomes illuminated by your lantern and he scrambles, wobbling over to the window sill grappling onto the ledge precariously with desperation. Oh my god. It was him. Choi Beomgyu.
His skin glows ethereally against the flame of your lantern, now paler than what youâre used to, presumably from whatever injury he had sustained. His dark murky irises meet yours, lashes glistening under the light. âY-You, oh god, youâre the only one whoâs woken up and given me a chance, t-thank, ah- the heavens above,â he grits out, eyes closing as you notice him clutch just below his ribs on the left side.
âOh my goodness,â you gasp seeing his usually white top now drenched in blood, staining it, it was a horrid sight. Just how bad was his injury to emit such an amount of bleeding? Your eyes widen, âWhat happened?â
He grunts struggling to stand, âAh fuck, could you just let me inside, I canât- ah, stand for much longer. Everythingâs spinning.â You hesitate, âYou know with everything going on and stuff I canât just-â
Beomgyu in frustration, misery and pain, âOh, I know, vampire this- ah, vampire that. Thatâs precisely my fucking problem,â he grimaces. âProblem? Wait- did you-â you begin shakily.
Beomgyu shakily murmurs, âVampire⌠attack. I need to be inside. He suddenly l-let me go, fuck, I donât know, is he t-toying with me? I wrestled him off, stuck my dagger into him, and r-ran like my life depended on it-â he deliriously explains. He hangs his head low; his brown, damp locks hanging over his eyes and his lips part heaving heavy and ragged breaths.
Placing the oil-lamp down, with panic, you grab your clunky keys and unlock the latches and unlock the door. The male almost stumbles in and you yelp as he falls against you.
âAh- wait-â you struggle against the sheer weight of him as you wrap your arms around him; you feel the wetness of his blood seep into your nightgown, making you grimace. Awkwardly, you maneuver him to sit against the wall as he murmurs against your ear, âMmâŚthank,â he coughs, ââŚyou.â You position him against the wall; his eyes are closed as he lies there still.
You slam the door shut not wanting any unwanted visitors being drawn to the scent of blood from your shop. Rushing around, you grab whatever medical supplies you needed to treat a vampire victim, after all, the last few weeks had given you (unfortunately) sufficient practice.
For a moment, you glance at his quietly resting face. Indeed, his beauty even whilst so battered was hauntingly ethereal. The flame of your oil lamp adds to his allure, to think the man who you had exchanged glances with, who smirked at you, would now be clinging to you for treatment.
Timidly, you untie the fastenings of his collar and unbutton the collar of his shirt as you untuck it from his trousers. Huh, quite the bleed out. You need to apply pressure first. Your fingers dab the area over the fabric and you realise most of the blood has dried. Guilt hits you, perhaps, you shouldnât have made him wait outside in the cold air for so longâŚ
Beomgyu groans, âMmâŚthank you..â A small yet worried smile appears on your face, âDonât thank me yet, itâs my job.â He rasps out slowly, ââŚI know, but no one,â he coughs, ââŚhad let me in.â His words hang in the air pungently and you feel your heart race seeing his eyes open; his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless.
âMmâŚâ he hums, ââŚarenât you so sweet,â he breathes. Your face flushes at his words and you clear your throat, âSave your energy.â His lips quirk up into a lazy smile.
Biting your lip, your brows furrow as you put pressure on the area, âMay I lift your top to look at the injury?â Beomgyu hums, âBy all means...â With trepidation, you lift his shirt revealing his torso; you almost have to reel yourself back looking at his flawless skin and his toned body; now marred with the stain of blood.
Wait. You stiffen. Your eyes scan over the area where the blood had supposedly leaked from. There was nothing but a faint line, the bleeding, well, you couldnât even say that, he wasnât bleeding. ThenâŚwhy was there so much fresh blood on his top?
Your blood runs cold as your heart begins to palpitate. Something wasnât right. Your gaze snaps up to Beomgyu who watches you with keen interest, âHm? What is it?â His demeanor had switched just like that.
Your hands shake, he wasnât injured at all. SoâŚwhose blood was on him? What did he do to them? Your lips quiver, your eyes snapping back to his blood-stained skin trailing up his defined torso with his unraveled shirt to his neck, back to his face. No injuries, not even a bruise elsewhere. Your breaths become uneven as fear begins to pulse through you.
Who did you just let in?
A small yet deep chuckle resounds from Beomgyu as he observes you, his gaze no longer that of a victim, but a predator carefully analysing its prey. âDearest little healer, have you figured it out?â His tone is condescending, a touch playful even, sending a shiver of warning down your spine.
He grabs your wrist trailing your fingers across his skin, âWas my act that convincing? Iâm so touched, you know? Youâre the only one whose heart was big enough to let poor old me in. Truly, little healer, how kind of you to let a desperate stranger in to treat them personally.â
Beomgyu rubs his thumb over your inner wrist pressing down as you watch frozen in fear. With a sudden tug he pulls you closer as you topple over his outstretched legs; your face inches from his. He presses his lips against your wrist before trailing the bridge of his nose against it, an incredibly intimate motion, as he inhales deeply, âMmâŚthe scent of your blood, impeccable. It almost had me drooling the moment you opened the door.â
His soft lips press against your inner wrist, âYou donât know how many times Iâve imagined sinking my fangs into that pretty little neck of yours, or your delicate wrists, whenever I walked past you in the mornings.â
Shakily, you pry your wrist from his grip and stumble back against the floor, scooting back. No, no, you couldnât be tempted like this. What type of sweet talking was this? A breathless laugh leaves his lips, âOh? Was that too much for you?â
âI couldnât help it, you know, those adorable star-struck eyes of yours, just barely managing to meet my gaze, that shy little smile youâd return to me, oh, it really was so endearing. Watching you open up your precious little shop, on my morning walks.â
Quivering, you murmur, âYouâre the vampire, thatâs beenâŚâ He rolls his head back, a crack resounds from his stiff neck, âMm, yes, yes. I am, you humans always have the same dialogue, I see.â Beomgyuâs lips quirk into a playful smirk, âYou should be thanking me you know, I believe Iâve helped you earn a large amount of profit recently, no?â
You gawk, âYou- youâre biting people! Taking their blood!â He grins almost amused with your accusation, âIâm not draining them am I? All I do is feed myself, just before they collapse, I stop and erase their memories. Simple, and it doesnât draw much suspicion. They canât even prove that I even had anything to do with it.â
He cooes, shaking the hair out of his dark eyes, âAnyway, you donât expect me to starve to death do you? I see no harm, as long as no one dies, everyone should have a little frightening experience once in a while, no? Call it a humbling experience, let's say.â
Trembling, you peer at him; the candlelight casts a golden hue across his face, your eyes finally catch a glimpse of his glimmering fangs that just about peek over his luscious bottom lip. They werenât as obvious beforeâŚ
âI- I took you in believing you were injured,â you exclaim in a panic. âSurely, surely you can leave me be, s-search for something else? Perhaps feed on an animal for tonight? Please,â you plead as fear courses through you.
Beomgyu chuckles, standing up and stretching his arms with a groan. âOh, how cute you sound when you plead, little healer,â he coos, peering down at you. The weight of his boots on the floorboards make them creak ominously. âHowever, Iâve not had my fill of human blood for days, and Iâm feeling rather ravenous tonight. I couldnât help but want to pay a visit to the sweetest herbalist in the village.â
He takes a step forward making you flinch, âHm, youâre not even trying to fight back, throw anything at me, you really are different from the rest of this pitiful excuse for a village.â Fuck. What an idiot you were! You had a small dagger under the front counter- hell, what on earth were you going to do with that measly thing againstâŚhim?
What if it makes things worse? He hadnât killed anyone as of yet? Then againâŚhe hadnât fed in days, what if wants to drain you? A crowd of thoughts whir in your mind chaotically as you scoot back trying to figure something out.
Beomgyu appears to be staring at you; his eyes swirling with bloodlust, his fangs itching to sink down into your soft skin, to suckle on it as your sweet, sweet sanguine drips onto his tongue. The way you fearfully peer up at him, gives him a surge of power, a feeling he immensely enjoyed. He always loved playing with his food.
Your parted lips, disheveled hair, heaving chest, and the best part, your pounding heart and rushing blood - absolute music to his ears! He appeared to be analysing every part of you, all with that salacious smirk on his rosy lips.
Beomgyu takes another step, another one, you squeak as his boots near your feet before he crouches down. âYouâll make this easy for me right? I donât wish to hurt you like the others, see, if theyâd been more cooperative, like youâre being, then theyâd have not sustained so many scrapes and bruises.â Beomgyu smiles slyly his fingers reaching to cup your jaw, âSuch a pretty little thing you are.â
His tongue wets his lips, as he inhales once more, with an impatient growl, he wraps his fingers around your neck. A light squeeze, and you gasp as he pulls you flush against him. Your fingers cling onto his shirt brushing against his icy skin. Your eyes glaze over, no way, this all had to be a dream right?
You pitifully gaze at him; his eyes stare back into yours hungrily. A moment of silence passes between you two - you didnât know what he was thinking, he appears to be deep in thought about something as he gazes at you.
âNever seen someone as compliant as you, huh,â he muses, leaning down, his breath brushing against the curve of your neck.
Honestly when you didnât know why you werenât breaking down your doors or window shutters and screaming for help or running for your life. Perhaps, because you knew it was futile to outrun someone like him. Your eyes meet his sinful features again. Deep down, in the deepest crevices of your mind, perhaps you enjoyed the thrill, the change in pace from your monotonous life. Though you were not keen on the idea of losing your life in the process.
The bridge of his nose trails up the curve of your neck as he hums, âSuch a lovely scent you have, I can only imagine how delectable you taste.â His words send a shiver through you and it doesnât go unnoticed as he chuckles, âOh? You like that? Or are you scared? I donât know with you, you seem soâŚcalm. I like it, Iâve never had prey like you.â Prey. Thatâs what you were. His prey.
You were scared but not willing to run. The tension in the air was palpable, crackling with electricity as your gazes locked with each other. WasâŚhe hesitating?
He bares his fangs ready to sink down into your flesh, but pauses. His hands grip your forearms tightly, almost painfully. Why wasnât he biting down? Wait- that was a good thing! What was wrong with you?
With an incredibly frustrated sigh, he snaps, âFuck.â His eyes zone in your neck, âWhy canât I justâŚwhen you look up at me like that? For fuckâs sake,â he hisses almost angry not at you but at himself.
Timidly, you murmur breathily, âYou-â His dark eyes malevolently snap to yours and he smiles darkly, âDo tell, little healer, is the anticipation killing you?â He mutters, âItâs killing me too, why canât I fucking bring myself to bite down?â
The way your eyes peer up at him, your quivering lips - the face he has grown oddly fond of and accustomed to seeing everyday. Despite not interacting with you before this, what was it about you? It angered him, had he grown soft? It seems so.
Your eyes widen in surprise, he couldnât bring himself to bite you? What in the world was this? He glares, âDonât look at me like that. Otherwise, Iâll change my mind.â
He grips your jaw suddenly, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip, a gesture that leaves you breathless, âHuh, thereâs just something about you, that almost makes my cold, lifeless heart almost yearn to beat again. Whyâs that?â
Beomgyu leans closer with narrowed eyes, âHm? Tell me. Are you a witch? Some sort of fae? Descendant of a siren, to have bewitched me somehow?â You peer at him blankly trying to process what was going on. Beomgyu observes your lackluster reaction and he releases a laugh, âAh, suppose those words donât mean much to you, hm?â
With an annoyed click of his tongue, he stands up, âYou have seemed to abate my hunger temporarily, how fascinating that is, just as it is frustrating. Here I was putting on all the theatrics just to get a meal tonight.â
You notice him turn away with a nonchalant attitude leaving you speechless. You scramble up to your feet, âWait!â
He peers over his shoulder carelessly, âHm?â âYouâre justâŚleaving me be?â You pant out, confusion reigning your senses.
Beomgyuâs lips quirk into a grin, his fangs subtly peeking out, âWhy? Do you wish to get bitten so badly, sweet healer? If youâre so desperate, Iâd hate not to oblige-â
âNo- no-that wonât be necessary,â you glare, âI- Iâm just confused, you put in all this effort just toâŚleave? Arenât you stillâŚhungry?â You stammer. His gaze darkens as he snaps his head away from you back to the front door, âSome things are best left unexplored, sweet healer. Donât push my mercy any further tonight.â
With that, he swiftly leaves out of the door leaving your heart racing and your mind an amalgamation of confusion and nervous thrill. Was he not even afraid that youâd go tell anyone? He didnât even erase your memory? Was he always this sloppy with his targets? Surely not.
After standing for awhile, you finally bring yourself back to your bed, lying down. Your heartbeat still couldnât calm down. Images of his handsome visage, smooth voice permeate your mind. You were just itching to know, why did he let you go? SurelyâŚsurely he didnât have a soft spot for you? Did he?
The next morning arrives, tiredness clings to your body as you grumpily set up shop. Yawning, you flip over the sign and as usual, your ears listen for the latest gossip.
âThere was a dead deer nearby Mr.Gallagherâs house, goodness. What a pitiful sight, it must have been that vampire, no?â The other woman chortles, âHuh, that pest hasnât been drinking any victims for the last week and a half, what, has he gotten bored of human blood?â The two ladies laugh and you grimace. Well, at least now you know what alternative blood source Beomgyu had yesterday night. Poor thing; a light pang of guilt hits you.
Begrudgingly, you start you routine of crushing up spices and herbs and writing labels. A sudden sound of the door opening startles you. Who?-
âLook at you, as hard at work as always,â a familiar voice hums.
You whip around seeing Beomgyu striding in, a mischievous gaze and sly smile. He looked more handsome in the day, much more menacing at night. Regardless, his presence here meant bad news. You murmur, âWhat do you want?â
He muses, âOh? Do you treat all your customers so coldly?â You glare, âNot all of my customers wish to drink my blood?â Beomgyu feigns innocence with a playful laugh, âMe? Oh, are you still not over yesterday night?â
âYouâve never set foot in my shop before, so why now?â You ask defensively. He grins walking up to the counter and your heart begins racing. âWhy? Are you scared Iâll take a little sip right now?â Beomgyuâs eyes gleam amused.
The way he seemed to speaking to you now almost sent you into whiplash. His tone, his mannerisms, almost akin to a puppy nudging their owners foot, asking them to play fetch.
âCome now, sweet healer, if I could resist you yesterday, what makes you think I canât today?â You mutter cautiously, âIf youâre here to buy something, then buy it.â
Beomgyu muses, âOh and here I thought with those shy smiles and glances we exchanged youâd be begging me to stay.â You mumble in embarrassment, âWell- that was- I-â
âHm? Hm?â He eggs on laughing making you roll your eyes in embarrassment. âOh, you do intrigue me so, little healer. So skittish yet you donât outrightly kick me out. Hm? Whyâs that?â
Fuck him. Fuck him and his perceptive nature. How humiliating. Exactly, why werenât you kicking him out of your shop? You huff turning back around working on your labels.
You hear him snickering, âNo answer? Fine by me.â Beomgyu grabs a stool dragging it to your counter and sits atop it, resting his elbow on the counter as he observes you.
âAre you just planning to stay here and watch me work?â You deadpan. âWell, I could always get my fill-â he begins. âNo, actually so whatever. Youâll get bored and leave soon anyway,â you huff.
âYou solely underestimate a vampireâs patience,â he muses. His eyes trail along your working form, your cute little apron decorated with various stains and dirt along with your cotton dress underneath cinched perfectly by the knot of your apron string. Oh how adorable.
He wasnât usually so keen on talking to humans, but something about you. He knew you liked him, why else would you be so bashful every morning? Yet unlike the others, you werenât so open about it, never approached him. Such a reserved little thing you were.
Feeling his intense gaze, you didnât know whether he was sizing you up as his prey, or genuinely appraising your attractiveness. Nevertheless, you continued on trying your best to ignore his presence. Various customers come in here and there and are almost jarred by his presence which makes you sigh in exasperation.
âYouâre not leaving are you?â You groan. He muses, âOh I will, just a little longer, patience my sweet, itâs only been an hour. I find it fascinating to see how you make your little medicines and such.â
You glare, âLittle medicines?â Beomgyu grins, âWhy yes, watching you work so hard to expand mortal lives, just a little bit longer, is amusing to me.â
âHow cynical of you,â you drawl. He muses, âI can be optimistic if thatâs what youâd like, sweet healer.â You groan. What had you gotten yourself into? Despite this you canât bring yourself to kick him out. You donât know why, perhaps it was the years of working alone in this dingy little shop of yours, that you found yourself yearning for company.
From his first visit, you never had thought his little sit-ins and chats would become more frequent, in fact, it was everyday. At the same time, after youâd open up, heâd stroll in taking his seat at the stool you had (not intentionally by any means), put out for him.
Your conversations would vary from calm to bickering, flirtatious and even trivial at times. It had become an almost quintessential part of both of your days. You hadnât even realised that weeks had flown by.
âYou know whatâs so idiotic about these vampiric rules? That I have to be invited in first. What a chore,â he scoffs. You snort, âThatâs quite the rule. Hilarious actually.â He bemoans as he rests his head atop the palm of his hand, âBelieve me, thatâs why I keep my prey-â You correct, âPeople.â
He scoffs, âAlright, those people, that's why I usually feed outside. But in your caseâŚI was unfortunately bound by such idiotic rules. Hence, the whole act. It worked though, you naively invited me in.â
You grab the crate of jars of ingredients to put up on the top shelf. Recently, Beomgyu had been helping you out here and there to your surprise. Not once has he even attempted to feed on you. It remains a lingering question in your mind, why wouldnât he? Perhaps he was really that fond of you. Or was this some sort of elaborate scheme?
âYeah, but you didnât feed on me.â You muse as you tiptoe to put the crate up. A whoosh resounds behind you, as you suddenly find him behind you making you yelp startled. âBeomgyu, what the-â
He muses his fingers overlapping yours as you both grip the crate and he helps you put it atop the shelf; his breath caressing the curve of your neck, âI didnât feed on you, though it doesnât mean that I canât in the future. You justâŚhappened to be a soft spot of mine is all.â
You peer over your shoulder meeting his gaze, âSoft spot?â He hums, âDonât dwell your pretty head on it for too long.â Beomgyu inhales deeply with a playful tone, âYou still smell just as good. I can hear your little heart pounding away. Nervous?â
âYouâre so close, how can I not be?â You mutter. A small laugh leaves his lips, âAh, I can be much closer, you know?â You scoff, rolling your eyes, âUh huh, yeah right. Now move.â
You go to move to the side but he suddenly grabs your shoulder, spinning you around and he pushes you against the wall with a mischievous glint in his sharp eyes. His hands grip your wrists pinning them beside your head. Beomgyu muses, âI think you forgot who youâre talking to here.â
Glaring, you murmur, âMove.â He coos, âMy, my, arenât you so demanding? Say please.â You glare, âThis isnât funny, Beomgyu.â
âYouâre right it isnât,â he fires back nonchalantly, âIn fact, it just makes me feel hungry, seeing you pinned against the wall like this.â He leans in, âLook at you, you arenât fighting back, again,â he chuckles, âYou like this, donât you?â
âBecause I know you wonât do it,â you fiercely say, meeting his gaze. His pupils have dilated and rises have darkened into a murky colour. He smiles coyly, âI wonât bite into that delicate neck of yours? Youâre so sure.â
Your wrists writhe against his grip, âNow stop fooling around, I have a lot of orders to get to. Because of you, Iâm already behind.â He shakes his head, âAh, ah, ah, not so fast, my sweet healer. The funâs not over yet. Youâre getting flustered arenât you?â
Beomgyuâs lips near your ear, âImagine if anyone walked in right now, hm? Goodness knows what theyâd think weâre doing behind this counter having you pinned against the wall like this as I whisper sweet nothings in your ear, oh the scandal!â
You scoff shoving him aside and he releases a cackle as your cheeks flare in warmth and your heart races as unholy imagery floods your mind. The thought of it however, does sent a bolt of desire through you. Damn him!
âIdiot,â you mutter under your breath. Beomgyu chuckles, the tip of his tongue brushing over one of his fangs in sheer delight, âOh you amuse me so much, little healer.â
âI do have a name you know?â You deadpan. âOh I know, Y/n. Youâve not complained until now?â He shrugs. Fair point. Exasperated, you continue your duties as he remains to pester you once more.
Though one thing was for sure, as long as he was around, your heart wouldnât stop fluttering. He wasnât what you expected him to be, yet you canât help but be pleasantly surprised by the turn of events. His presence certainly gave your life a bit of colour and vibrancy indeed.
The days pass by in a blur, something thatâs never happened before. Youâve always loathed how slow the days went by, but now it seemed as though you couldnât even keep up with them! As much of aâŚpest as he was, you grew to enjoy his company.
You close up your shop as you spot people rushing inside fearfully. People had already started rumours about the two of you. Huh, well, you were never one to care, you knew theyâd always come to you for your remedies regardless.
The attacks had decreased in their frequency (with your hefty persuasion). Though they werenât completely gone, after all, Beomgyu needed to survive. However he always assured you that heâd never kill anyone.
âClosing up are we?â A voice suddenly calls and you snap startled, âStop doing that, Beomgyu!âHe peers around the corner with stupidly attractive smirk as he ruffles his dark brown locks, âOh? But you look so cute when youâre frightened.â
With a groan, âA pest. Thatâs what you are. To think I let you in.â Beomgyuâs eyes gleam darkly, âOh donât be like that, little healer. You love my presence. I believe it was the beginning of a very, very special little relationship.â
âRight,â you glare unamused. âWhere were you this morning? You didnât visit,â you ask. His smirk morphs into a grin, âMissed me?â
âNo,â you fire out immediately. He muses walking towards you with a playful stride and his hands behind his back, âMm, I was out hunting. Iâve been feeding on animals as of late, these pesky little villagers here have grown smarter in their tactics.â
You snort, âNot going to try to act injured again?â His eyes flash darkly, âAh, well no one else is as naive as you to invite me in, healer. So no.â You scoff bitterly, âAlright, alright, easy now.â
âAnyway, Iâm here now, Iâm feeling a bit famished, however,â he eyes your neck, âYou wouldnât mind if I stayed for dinner would you?â
You glare, âI would mind.â Ignoring your words, he walks past you opening your door and walking in, âOh, why thank you, my sweet, sweet healer. Such hospitality.â
You scoff, âI thought you had that rule about being invited in?â He grins peering over his shoulder, âOnly applies once, sweet thing. Too bad isnât it?â You huff walking behind him, âOf course it fucking does.â
With that, you find yourself in a rather domestic setting, having invited him upstairs, where your living quarters were. You chop your vegetables with ease as he sits at your worn-down dining table with a cocky smile, âDo you not have any meat? All these vegetables smell rather repulsive.â
âDidnât you eat already?â You chide. Beomgyu hums, âOh I did, but I donât think a rabbit fills you up very much. Animal blood never has any substance to it, bitter too, eugh,â he grimaces. You gasp, âThat poor thing!â He rolls his eyes, âOh so I canât even have animal blood now? Thereâs no winning, is there?â
With a sigh, you resume cooking in a comfortable silence. He liked watching you carry out your mundane tasks. He had lived for a long time, despite this, the way you did everything with so much care, such precision, it sparked interest in him. Time had become something fickle in his eyes, he had a lot of it, and well, not enough to do.
Though hanging around you has changed that. Something about your peculiarities, mannerisms that had him so intrigued. You were cautious yet open-minded, timid but also had a witty mouth. Oh, what pretty lips you had when you bickered with him. He really did love getting you all riled up, even more so, he loves getting you flustered.
Beomgyuâs gaze trails down your form, starting at your haphazardly put together bun revealing your tempting neck. How could you torture him so cruelly?
Instinctually, his tongue wets his lower lips; his fangs aching to protrude. The scent of your blood always lingered around you, tempting him constantly. He really did want to suckle on your neck, lick along your skin, perhaps leave a mark or two. HoweverâŚhe didnât know if you could handle such rough treatment. You looked soâŚdelicate?
Your unwillingness to immediately scream, run away the night he first came into your shop, your oddly calm demeanor despite the bubbling fear that he could so clearly see within you, it was unique. You never pushed him away. Even when he had his eye on you before the whole ordeal, he just found something ever soâŚendearing about you as you went about your routine.
So much so, he couldnât bring himself to ravage your neck that night. Beomgyu considered it an act of mercy, after all, he was absolutely ravenous that night butâŚyou had caught him off guard. So, he didnât erase your memory like the others. He wanted you to remember him. Beomgyu had an inkling that youâd not tell anyone.
The more he spent time with you, the more he wanted to bite down, not just for the sake of feeding himself, he wanted to make you feel good. So good, that youâd beg him to bite your precious little neck and perhaps even a few other areas.
A sweet, resilient little herbalist in this dismal village, all to himself. What a devious thought, one that he relishes. Beomgyu stands, walking over to you and leaning his back against the counter flashing you his signature snarky smirk.
âYou almost done?â He queries. Raising a brow, you answer, âAlmost, yeah. Why? Not like youâre going to eat anything.â He snorts at your bluntness, âMm, well, I am getting rather hungry. Just itching for a bite.â
âVery funny, Beomgyu,â you drawl sarcastically. Beomgyu shifts closer; his arm brushes yours as you make the final preparations. âI canât help it when I have something as tempting as you in front of me,â he muses, his eyes going down your face.
He approaches you, caging you in with your back hitting the counter, his two arms brushing by your hips preventing you from escaping. There it was again, the expression he loved so much. A mixture of curiosity, fluster, a touch of desire. He leans down with an alluring smile, âSweet healer, how long do you think we can go about this precarious little dance of ours?â
You hum trying to keep your composure, âAre you saying you only see me as food?â His cool exterior cracks and his eyes flash for a moment, a touch of remorse.
âNo, of course not. If that were the case, Iâd have fed on you the first time, or even the second. You know Iâm justâŚâ he peers away with a serious expression. Oh? Did he take your jest too seriously? His furrowed brows and slightly pouty lips - oh my god, he looked soâŚgood.
âIâm just playing with you, joking around. I wouldnâtâŚdo that. Not to you, at least⌠never,â he hesitates, ââŚyou.â Never? He didnât want to hurt you? Like genuinely? Your eyes trace along his ethereal features; your heart races. Perhaps your initial crush on the man before still lingered, well, it never went away, you suppose. You always felt breathless when he was around, flustered and most importantly happy.
You liked him. You likedâŚa vampire? You liked Choi Beomgyu.
He steps back almost as if he was reevaluating himself and you canât help but smile. Huh, he took you too seriously. How cute. Your heart pounds. He really did care about you a lot. You grasp his arm pulling him back, peering up at him with a coy smile. His eyes meet yours with a hint of confusion, curiosity and desire. You murmur, âDid you take me seriously?â
âWere you being serious? You said it so seriously, I thought I hurt your feelings,â he murmurs lowly, his husky tone sending a shiver down your spine. Oh, you loved his voice.
You muse, âMm, I was just teasing. I know youâd have done it long ago, erased my memory and have ran off.â His shoulders ease down in relief, âRight.â A giggle escapes you, âLook at you, a big scary vampire, afraid of hurting my feelings?â
His eyes flash dangerously and he murmurs, âWell youâre not just an ordinary human to me, are you? I donât want you running off on me.â
Gazing up at him, you hum, âWhyâs that? Whatâs so special about me?â You canât help but let your eyes flicker to his lips. So kissable, they were.
This action doesnât go unnoticed and his gaze darkens, âOh has my sweet little healer morphed into a temptress?â Your cheeks feel hot as his gaze locks onto your lips.
âWhatâs so special about you, you ask? Well, youâre cornered by me, not just once, yet you never run. Youâre the only one in this town whoâs been willing to look past my appearance. Thirdly, I have a hunch that youâre not so averse to the idea of getting bitten, than these other cowardly villagers are,â he breathes leaning in.
The tip of his nose brushes against yours. He whispers, âNot to mention, what an attractive little thing you are. You had caught my eye from day one.â Your breath hitches as his hand slides up your arm cupping the back of your head, just above your neck, âYouâve no idea how many nights Iâve imagined you beneath me, on top of me, having your lips on mine.â Your knees almost buckle on the spot at his sinful words.
Breathlessly, you say, âYouâre desperate for me?âHis gaze glimmers warningly, âDonât taunt me, healer.â His grasp tightens on the back of your neck.
You canât help but smile as your foreheads touch, you close your eyes and breathe out, âYeah? What are you going to do about it then?â He releases a small provoking laugh before latching his lips onto yours.
The kiss is initially soft, passionate, your hands cling to his shirt as the sweet sensation fills your senses. You realise very quickly, how addictive this could become. Moving your lips back against his; a low groan escapes him as he tilts his head kissing you deeper. A slow, seductive kiss that leaves your legs on the verge of buckling.
Both of you part from each other, lust clouding your senses. âThat wasâŚâ he breathes. ââŚamazing,â you respond shakily. His lips quirk into a smirk, âYeah, in fact, I want more,â with that he presses his lips against yours again, your arms wrap around his neck pulling him flush against you. His firm body against your soft one; it left you feeling weak.
This time he moves his lips more fervently, he parts your lips with his tongue with ease deepening the kiss. It was a long time coming, the mutual unspoken attraction and tension between the two of you had finally broken over the brim of composure. Beomgyu trails his lips along your jaw, you feel a hint of his fangs, sending a shiver down your spine. He moves further down your neck, his tongue darting out moistening the skin and leaving a trail of kisses.
Inhaling deeply, he murmurs, âMm, fuckâŚyour bloodâs rushing.â You hum, your fingers running through the back of his hair, âYeah?â
His lips suckle on the skin of your neck; a whimper escapes you. âGod, you have no idea how much I want toâŚbut I donât want to hurt you.â
âIs that why?â You breathlessly question, âIs that why youâve not done it so far?âHe responds; his eyes meeting yours and briefly meeting his lips with yours, âDonât want to force you or hurt you. You mean a lot to me, I donât want to treat you like some sort of prey alone.â Your neck tingles, your imagination running wild.
âDoes it hurt that bad?â You inquire. He murmurs, âWell, initially it does, depends on how cooperative one is,â he rubs the bridge of his nose against the curve of your neck; his composure and patience waning by the minute. âYouâd be surprised, some find it pleasurable after a while, some just hate it,â he muses.
âWhat do you think? You think Iâll like it?â You ask, feeling a flurry of boldness hit you. He stiffens against you and he straightens up peering into your eyes, âDo you understand what youâre implying here, healer?â
A smirk lines your lips, âIf you fed on me, do you think Iâd grow to like it?â His pupils dilate, and a shaky breath leaves his lips, âSweet healer, you really are testing my resolve arenât you? My patience has its limits, you know?â
Your eyes flicker down to his lips where you see his fangs ever so slightly protrude, âI know.â Beomgyu releases a frustrated groan tousling his locks, âOnce I get a bite of you, you know Iâll come back for more. I wonât stop with one bite, Iâll yearn for it whenever we meet,â he warns. With a deep inhale, temptation gets the best of you, âSo? I trust you. You wonât lose control.â
Beomgyuâs eyes morph into a darkness that sends your lower stomach spiralling as he whips closer to you with unimaginable speed, gripping your forearms pulling you flush against him. Cupping your jaw with his hand, he murmurs as though he's a second away from losing restraint. His hand slides down to your neck giving it a light squeeze and a small pleasant whimper escapes your parted lips, his eyes flash with desire. Smirking he muses, âArenât you a filthy little thing for enjoying that? Well, anyway donât tense up, and donât say I didnât warn you.â
His lips suckle against your skin tugging it lightly; his tongue wetting your skin before you feel a sharp pain pierce through you. âAh fuck-!â You yelp, eyes clamping shut and you breathe shakily. That shit hurts like hell! He was right!
You grit your teeth trying not to tense; you feel it, your blood rushing through you, adrenaline pumping through your body at the sensation. The salacious sounds of him gulping down your blood seems almost erotic in a sense. Within a few seconds, the stinging morphs into something almost pleasurable. No, no almost, as twisted as it was, it feltâŚgood? Well as good as something piercing your skin can get, you suppose. A mix of pain and pleasureâŚ
Beomgyu cradles the back of your head, pulling your head back by your hair causing your lips to release a rather peculiar sound. With a âpopâ, he unlatches from your neck and meets your gaze. Your vision is slightly blurry and your legs feel weak. He stopped?
He licks his lips and your eyes follow the trickle of blood down his chin. Your blood. He wipes it with the back of his before licking it, with succulent fervour. âMm, just as I thought, fuck, you taste good and that sound, my, my.â
You peer at him dazed. Oh, how incredible you look all zoned out and lightheaded. Arenât you a freakish little thing, enjoying this? He presses his lips to your fiercely; the metallic taste of your own blood permeating your mouth. The whole ordeal was sinfully addictive. You could get used to this very quickly.
Beomgyu presses a brief peck to your neck, licking up any remaining blood, âI can only imagine how good youâll be in other circumstances and what other noises I can get that pretty little mouth of yours to make.â You tiredly mutter in defence, âNo, I- that was..â
He muses letting your head rest on his chest, âSsh, ssh, relax, my sweet healer. Youâve lost quite a bit of blood, the last thing I need is you fainting on me.â He wraps his arm around you enjoying your fatigued embrace. Closing your eyes, you hear his whisper, âYouâre now mine, you hear that? I wonât let any other pitiful human lay their hands on you. Got that?â
His? Your eyes flutter open weakly peering up at him; his gaze is intense. You peer at his lips once more, cupping his jaw and pulling him down for a brief kiss; a metallic taste filling your tongue. Beomgyu hums parting from you, âYou realise, what youâve started between us right? I donât plan to just go about my time. Youâve only made me want more of you.â
You wanted more of him too. Oh, you really did.
You donât know what possesses you, or what about him is so sinfully addictive that has you saying the words, âThen take me,â you breathe out, âTake me as yours.â
âDonât worry, you already are,â Beomgyu murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple as you succumb to your exhaustion.
Hm, you wonder what the other villagers would think if they knew you were the vampireâs new lover - theyâd think you were deranged. Well, you deem that this one secret could remain that way. Just that.
A sinful little secret.
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