#there will be blood x reader
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soupbabe · 2 years ago
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Can I get an assortment of the Dano characters you write for with a s/o that loves to garden? Or a s/o that enjoys painting/sketching them? (I wanted to send you a request but I'm so bad at requests EEK SORRY!)
Gardening with Paul Dano Characters
Featuring: Louis Ives, Jay, Eli Sunday, Hank Thompson
T33TH HI!! I loved your idea and I think it's a cute prompt for the warmer months!! Tbh I just used this to write some of my favs + get some practice in writing some characters I barely written for! <33
Eli Sunday
- I think he would help you create a garden, whether for extra money or just for you to enjoy
- Don't exactly rely on him to do a lot of hard work though
- Sure Eli will provide the supplies and everything you need throughout the day
- but after you're done planting, he would want you to pray with him for a bountiful garden, for rain to come and bless your crops, and then that's it
- Would go on about how "we're" making great things together and how it's wonderful that you both are giving back to God's Earth
- Even though all he didn't do anything and you had to cater to the garden throughout the entire season
- Don't bring it up he'll deny it
Hank Thompson
- Hank just loves watching you garden
- He doesn't know a thing about gardening, he doesn't understand how you keep everything alive, but he is so enamored by it all
- I think he likes gifting you random seeds and house plants he thought you'd like
- Okay okay hear me out: Hank would totally love crafting those native wildflower seed bombs that are made out of mud and stuff
- He loves getting messy!! He loves spending time with you and playing with mud!!
- While it's not a traditional way of gardening, I think it could be fun night out if you and Hank went around throwing the seed packed balls into people's lawns and random patches of grass
- Then a couple weeks later, you two can go on a walk and admire your work!!
Jay
- He's so adamant about gardening, he has the greenest thumb out of the bunch
- Jay is sweet he probably has matching sunhats for the both of you
- All of his food comes from his own vegetable garden and he's so so proud of what you both accomplished together
- Even if there's wonky looking and small veggies, it happens sometimes and it doesn't deter Jay
- And if you love planting various flowers and plants? Oh he's just as in love!
- While it may not be your intention, he loves what you're doing for the local pollinators <33
- If you two had your own home I could guarantee that it just looks like a giant greenhouse. House plants everywhere.
Louis Ives
- Oh she admires your hobby so much!!
- She thinks about starting a garden of her own, planting strawberries or keeping a few succulents around all the time
- But honestly she just doesn't have a whole lot of time, so she just sticks to reading a whole bunch around it
- Yeah she's the kind of girl to think too much about flowers and it's meanings and she gives you them to show her love
- Please let her garden with you, teach her the basics of rooting and how to fence off wild animals and insects please she is begging
- Fun dates at the nursery !! Her being amazed at all the different kinds of plants and it's just an afternoon of ooo-ing and awe-ing
- Once she grows something and it blooms/ripens, she's so excited! She's sending you pictures asking if she did it right and immediately wants to gift them to you!
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werecreature-addicted · 1 year ago
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people are always like "Oh a vampire wouldn't get horny while drinking someone's blood, that's like getting horny while eating a sandwich" and like man have you never had a really good fucking sandwich?
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readwritealldayallnight · 4 months ago
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Simon’s home.
Which means he’s glued to your side.
You wouldn’t have it any other way.
The two of you are in a local bookstore, the shop having caught your eye while out on a stroll together, each of you going to your respective shelves to find your preferred genres.
Simon grabs the first novel he thinks sounds interesting, quickly snatching the book by its spine so that he can cross the few steps back to your side.
His eyebrows furrow when he notices how closely you’re holding a book up to your face, your own eyes squinting at the back cover.
“Havin’ trouble there, love?” He asks as he approaches.
“Can’t believe I let myself run out of contact lenses.” You reply, trying your best to decipher the blur of black ink on the pages.
“Could’ve worn your glasses.” He retorts, something he’d already suggested more than once since you ran out of your contacts and had to order new ones.
“You know I only like wearing them at home.���
“But you’re so cute in ‘em.”
“Yeah well, you’re the only one who thinks so.” You mumble under your breath, though Simon hears it of course, the crease in his brow deepening.
“Wha’s that supposed to mean?” He gruffs out.
“I just got teased a bit in school was all Si, typical kid stuff. Just stuck with me I guess, but it’s fine, I have my contact lenses.” You explain to him.
Simon considers your words for a moment, the gears evidently turning in his head, muscular arms crossed over his large chest.
“And do we know where these fuckin’ tossers are at now?”
“Oh my god Simon, don’t-”
“Have we got any names to work with?”
“That is not-”
“Any addresses?”
“You are not about to-”
“Pictures?”
“I was like ten years old-”
“S’alright lovie, we’ll dig up your yearbooks when we get home.” He simply says, plucking your book from your hands and heading towards the register to pay.
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snowluvvie · 26 days ago
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you’re one of those girls that’s always batting your eyes at Harry. not cause he’s the chosen one, just cause he’s hot. he tells you Luna fixed his broken nose and you say somethin cute like “aww thank god, wouldn’t wanna mess up that face!!” and he gets all flustered and kinda stutters a little bit and then says “yeah.. uh yeah.. thanks? thanks.” you’re making his no-longer-broken nose a whole thing. you’re doting on him, dabbing blood off of his face with a cloth in the common room bathroom. you’re just really close to eachother’s faces on accident and the real mystery of the day is who kissed who first? doesn’t matter, y’all are kissing. his blood is on your face but it doesn’t slow either of you down. his hair is so soft when you tangle your fingers through it. whatever. you’re making out with Harry Potter while blood is dripping down his face and you’ve imagined kissing him sooo many times but it still manages to be better than you thought it would be, and he’s shocked it’s happening at all cause you’re so hot. when you guys pull away and he sees the little smear of blood across your lips and nose he’s profusely apologizing knowing damn well he’s just getting harder the longer he looks at you. he’d never tell you that, though
bonus, he’s lamenting to Ron later: “what the hell was i s’posed to say? aye, you look bloody hot with my blood all over your face? she’d think i was stark raving mad!” and Ron’s going “you never know what birds are into these days, mate” shaking his head and shrugging
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Watching you
Hwang In-ho x female!reader.
Summary: In-ho sees you and his brain chemistry changes. A/N: in reader’s pov he’s referred as Young il. Sorry if it’s confusing. Warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, masturbation, stalking, perverted opinions, murder, blood, kissing, mentions of arousal, mentally and physically vulnerable characters, dubious consent, non-con touching, manipulation, sadism, dacryphilia
W/c: 3,5k
It was strange that he kept his eyes on you more than anyone in the games. The moment he saw your shaking figure among the crowd of people in the green suits, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat. You were looking around with eyes that were full of fear, hands wrapped around yourself and holding back tears as others started an argument in the middle. You listened as someone complained about his shoes being so expensive, and someone asking for his phone, an old lady argue with her son and guards answering the players’s questions with patience.
He kept his eyes on you as the first game started. He saw your eyes widen when someone was shot right in front of you, and he watched you as you realise the seriousness of the game you accepted to take part in. Gi-hun was interesting to him, yes. He was searching for them, for him have been for years now. And he was brave enough to come back to the games just to find who was behind them. He respected his determination. Yet there was something about you that he could not name. Something captivating. Something that shifted things in him, made his skin sting in ecstasy as you nearly moved when the doll turned around. You looked around with those innocent eyes and blood of someone flowing down your cheek, he felt his trouser tighten. A small, tingly sensation took over his loins and made him frown in confusion. He had never taken a liking to a someone, let alone a little, fragile thing like you.
When he found the video of you playing ddajki with the recruiter, he felt himself get harder and harder as he watched you spill tears in pain every single time you received a hard slap on your cheek. The camera captured the noises you made as your body was falling backwards with every single slap. The recruiter hit you hard and In-ho wandered if you would sound the same when he pounded you hard on his bed. He took his mask off and palmed himself trough his trouser as he kept replaying the video over and over again. When he was finished spilling his seed into his palm, he wished that was your mouth wrapped around his tip instead.
When the first game finished and your number and picture still shone bright on the floor, you voted for ‘X’ and expected everyone to vote same as you. Yet you were so wrong when the last player 001 and all others voted ‘O’, causing all of you to stay in this hellhole. You felt tears fill your eyes as some people were cheering with victory in front of you. You sat down on one of the beds at the front and hugged your legs with disappointment. As you were thinking what was going to happen next, you felt someone sit next to you.
“I’m sorry, I thought staying was the best option.” Said the man who was looking at you, watching your tears flow down your flushed cheeks. You looked at his number and saw 001 in bright white font. He was the person who voted last and made the decision. You sighed and shook your head.
“It is not only you, sir. Half of us wanted to stay.” You said as you pointed at the people who had the ‘O’ banners on their right side. He did not look at the direction you were pointing at, he kept his eyes on. You were so pretty when you cried. He wandered how beautiful you would look when you were overstimulated with his fingers in you. He felt his cock twicth when you looked at him again. Your lips were plump, and the tip of your nose was red. He wandered how your tears would taste like.
“We have a winner here. I thought we could use this for our advantage.” He explained as he pointed at Gi-hun who looked very troubled not so far away from you. Your eyes were on the last winner when you felt the man beside you stand up and take few steps towards the player 456. Yet he stopped mid way and looked back at you, as if he was waiting for you to follow him. And for some reason you wiped your tears away and followed him like a lost puppy as he walked towards the previous winner of the games who was already accompanied by few guys who kept asking him questions.
And the small group was formed with two of you joining them. You did not know much about others, did not trust them meanwhile player 001 was confident and comfortable talking to them. When he sat down next to Gi-hun, his eyes pointed at the small space next to his feet, so you sat down there. Being close to him brought you a sense of safety. He was the first person who approached you in this mess of a place with kindness. You did not know him, didn’t know his name or why he was here. Yet there was a look in his eyes that made you want to stick beside him.
When everyone went to sleep, In-ho looked at your resting form. You were wrapped in the thin blanket and was curled up into a ball. He looked at your curves that were visible from the tracksuit, his mouth watered. You were so frightened and powerless. You needed someone to protect you in the games. Someone who would look after you, make sure you make it alive. He knew what humans were capable of doing in a place like this. People were going to go mad and hurt one another viciously. Would he be able to just stand and watch if you got hurt?
Your soft whimpers and cries brought him back to reality. When you woke up from your few hours of sleep drenched in sweat and tears flowing down your cheeks, he crawled to you, in the darkness of the hall. He reached out to you, from the metal bars of the beds, and held your shoulder. You squirmed in fear and was about to scream until a large hand covered your mouth.
“It’s me.” He whispered to your ear as his whole body was pressed against your back, other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He was towering over you, as you felt sweat drops make their way to your neck from your temple.
He let go of your mouth, but his touch did not leave your body when he moved to sit next to you. He was close, his breath hitting your face and neck when he looked at you with observing eyes that did not give any feelings away. His touch made your heart beat fast and quicken your breaths, yet you did not want him to stop holding you.
“Bad dream?” He whispered, his voice is low yet deep enough to make your insides shake. You nodded when tears filled your eyes again. The images of dead bodies all over the playground haunted you since the moment you came back from the game as winners. You didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, but you felt like he would not mind seeing you cry.
He nodded along with you, almost like a grown up talking to a little kid and mirror her moves to befriend her. When he saw your bottom lip tremble and eyes full of fear scan the hall of people sleeping, he felt his loins burn in need. The face you made when you were scared and felt alone was enough to make him cum in his underwear without any touch.
Without hesitation he brought your body closer to his own and his arms embraced your shaking form with mercy. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and wrapped your smaller arms around his waist. He was warm. Very warm that you felt your fingertips burn over his body. When you breathed in and out in the crook of his neck, all In-ho wanted to do was throw your body back into the bed, rip those clothes off of you and ravage you in front of dozens of people without any care. The though of fucking you, turning you into mass in front of them, giving them a show as he claimed you, sent shivers down his spine.
“I’m so scared,” you whispered, your crying voice reaching his ear as he tried to hold back a smile at your situation. You were so helpless that you were crying in the arms of the man who was the reason why you were still here. He was a stranger, who had the potential to do anything. Yet here you were, quivering against his chest and making his member throb in need.
“I’m here.” He said. And you had no chance but trusting him.
———————
The next game you were automatically given the Gong-gi game as the only female in the group. Yet your hands were shaking when it was your turns to play after player 390 completed his part successfully. When you missed two times, you were so sure you were going to die and worse, be the reason for everyone’s death in your group.
He watched you panick, drop the pebbles and fail to catch them midair. Everyone around you was getting inpatient and scared naturally. Even tho he loved the way you were struggling and feeding into his twisted desire, he could not let you die. He held your waist and stopped the trembling of your body. You looked at him under your lashes that were wet with your tears and went back to work once he gave you a reassuring smile. With that you managed to catch all the pebbles in your palm and passed the round.
It was then, you felt something was off, when it was his turn to play his own game. The top kept slipping from his hands or landed wrong on the floor that was covered in the blood of eliminated players. You wanted to step back yet could not because of the ties when he started to scream in anger and slap himself. There was a crazy, off-putting look in his eyes. It was less uncomfortable when he was looking at you, yet it was still there. His eyes made your skin crawl and stomach twist in sickness. You did feel safe around him. But not like you would feel safe with a family member, a friend, or a lover. It felt like he was a wolf who claimed a lamb, kept her on his chest and waited for right moment to eat her.
When your group managed to survive and go back to the hall, he kept to you close. His hand was on your back, leading you to your bed. When it was mealtime, he gave half of his food to you, telling you to not to worry about him when you tried to reject him. He watched you until you finished all your food. After all of you exchanged names, he watched you talk to player 388 about his time in marine and watch you laugh when he was talking excitedly, telling everyone how prideful he was about his military service. He watched your tears dry up as you listened to the conversation that was flowing in the group. Your smile made his stomach twist and his jaw clench.
Your hopes once again were shattered when people voted for “O” more than “X” and decided to continue playing the games. Young-il wiped your tears away and convinced you to get some sleep for the night. You could only relax and fall asleep when he sat next to you on your bed and caressed your head as he decided to stay awake. He looked extraordinarily strong to you. He did not need to sleep, gave his food to others, calm people down when everyone was scared, raged and pass the games like it was nothing. Most importantly, he held you close no matter what. Did not mind you cry and fail and fall. Maybe it was a sense of guilt he felt, for making you stay in the first round of voting, you thought.
——————
Next morning he held your hand when everyone was taken to the new game. It was mingle. Your group had decided to stay together. You were grateful that they had take you in and did not leave you alone. You all took your place on the platform and started to spin as the song was playing. You felt his hand get tighter around yours, reminding you that he was here with you.
10
You ran as fast as you can and took deep breaths when all 10 of you finally managed to get into a room. The sound of lock made you jump slightly. You saw Young il’s eyes on Gi-hun as he pulled you under his arm. The images of him looking at Gi-hun since the moment you met him lingered on your mind until the woman who claimed to be a shaman started to speak loudly in the middle of the room. As you waited for gunshots to stop and doors to open, you could not help but wonder the reason behind Young il’s weird behaviour about Gi-hun. He seemed to get along with him. Seemed to respect his ideas and experiences about this place. They seemed to understand one another, somehow. Yet that unexplainable look in 001 eyes was making you shift uncomfortably in your place.
Until last round, you had no chance but sticking beside Young il. As you entered rooms and people kept dying outside, you became more paranoid. And when it came to the last round, Jeong-bae asked how many people it was going to be this time. Without hesitation Young-il answered.
“2.” And it was it. When the song stopped and the platform stopped spinning, Young il held your hand tighter than before, and started to run to closest room. As you were trying to catch up with his pace, someone bumped into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble midway. Young il turned around immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist. He lifted you like a piece of feather and made his way to the yellow door that was already opened by a guy. Young il pushed you into the room and threw the other guy away from the door. When you scanned the room, your eyes were met with pair of foreign eyes.
“Out.” Young il said sharply to the other man in the room.
“We were here first.” The man said, his voice cracking as he was shaking in fear. Person behind the door tried to open it. You pushed your back against the door and held it with all of your strength. There was not much time left, and you were afraid that all of you were going die in this room.
Young il grabbed the man and locked his arms around his head. As they scooped to the floor, his arms got tighter around the player 343’s neck. You were still holding the door and preventing the other player to get in. For a second Young il’s intense gaze met with yours and you couldn’t look away.
He looked into your eyes, showing no emotion or weakness as the man he was choking started to turn purple. Your breath got stuck in your throat, your knees were shaking, and your palms were getting sweaty with the scene taking place in front of you. As there were few seconds left for the countdown, Young il twisted the man’s neck. The sound of bone cracking filled the room along with the sound of door locking behind you. He kept his eyes on you, as he tossed the dead body of the side.
The lifeless body of player 343 laid on the ground and the gunshots filled your ear. The screams of people scratched your brain, and you finally managed to close your eyes. He had killed someone in front of you, broke his neck with one swift motion and he had no emotion on his face as he did it. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it was going to fail at some point. Then the images of him came to your mind. When he knocked down player 124 and 230 as he looked down at them with those emotionless eyes, when he carelessly slapped himself in the second game, when he looked at Gi-hun as if he wanted to strangle him when he thought no one was looking, when he pushed everyone out of his way to get both of you to safety during the mingle game and now when he killed someone.
“Open your eyes.” He breathed out, his breath hitting your face. Suddenly you felt his warmth surrounding you and him towering over your head. You slowly opened your eyes and there he was. Looking down at you, his eyebrows lifted up and with a mocking look in his eyes. His face was close to yours. Yet it did not feel comforting and safe like it did a night ago, when he was comforting you after a nightmare.
“What did you do?” Your voice was shaky and sounded terrified as you tried to look at the dead body that was in the corner of the room. He did not let you look away with his fingers finding your chin and holding it tight. He held you with those hands that just took the life of someone. You felt chills going down your spine.
“I made sure that we survived.” He whispered without breaking eye contact with you. You could hear soldiers cleaning up the mess outside of the rooms.
“You killed him.” You tried to shake his touch away, yet he didn’t let you. Instead, he got closer, until you were trapped between him and the door. His hot breath made your skin tingle, and his touch made you wanna cry.
“Yes.” He said, and his lips touched your cheek that was wetted by your tears. His lips planted a soft kiss onto your skin. The kiss made you feel dizzy and your knees weak.
“For you.” He continued. His words made you freeze in your spot. His lips traced over your skin like a ghost and reached the corner of your lips. “Only for you” He kissed the side of your mouth, softly, gently, with mercy. You wanted to rip his hands off of you, and run away. The floor beneath your feet was slippery with the blood of eliminated players. If you slipped and fell, would he let you go?
“All for you.” His lips found your chin, then your nose, then your other cheek. He did not rush or hold you harsh enough to hurt. Yet knowing that he had just killed someone with those hands made you wanna throw up.
Your tears dropped to his lips, and he licked his lips as if he was dying over thirst. And when he made eye contact with you again, it was the first time you saw a clear human emotion in his eyes. An emotion he did not try to hide or was afraid to show; yearning. You did not know if it was for you or winning. In both cases, it terrified you to your very being.
“Stop!” You said as sobs filled your mouth and he pressed his forehead against yours hard. You felt him shake his head, his arms wrapping around your fragile, little body compared to his strong form.
“I will give you everything you want, you need.” He said and pressed his lips against yours. Without waiting, his tongue made his way into your mouth, forcing your lips to open up for him. You felt the dizzy feeling take over your head. Your ears were ringing, your mind was foggy as he kissed you harsh, deep. There was no power left in your body, so you just let yourself to his arms.
His teeth crushed against yours and he was biting every corner of your lips until he drew blood. The irony taste filled your senses, made you jump. You did not know if it was you bleeding or him. But there was blood everywhere. Covering your tongue, your lips and staining your chin as your shared spit escaped from the corner of your lips. You felt your body burn all over. Your back was arching like a cat to get any closer to him, and there was a soreness between your legs that made your clit throb. You felt shame fill you and guilt making you wanna cry out. Instead, you kept kissing him, devouring him, eating him as much as you could.
You whined and pushed your head towards him when he parted your kiss with the sound of lock. The door was opened. The third game was finished. There was still a dead man in the room. Your mouth was covered in blood, making you look like you just feasted on someone. And his eyes were on you, watching you.
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bunnis-monsters · 10 months ago
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NSFW
Vampire lover that can’t drink your blood without you keeping his cock warm.
He has to be balls deep in your pussy, otherwise he gets all hard and cums in his pants just from one sip of your blood.
It’s just way less messy to already have his cock buried in your cunt, and he doesn’t like to waste his seed. He’s a powerful vampire that needs an heir, that sperm is valuable!!
So every time he needs to feed, he pushes your expensive panties to the side and sits you on his cock, content to cum inside of you.
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quarterlifekitty · 26 days ago
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Lately I’ve been imagining being Price’s prized, spoiled little kitty hybrid. Silky satin bow on your lacey collar with a sterling silver bell. You’ve got a big embroidered pillow in every room in the house to lounge on. A beautiful bright bay window to lay in every morning.
He lives on a large, ranch like property near the woods. One day while you’re outside at the edges of the property, a sudden downpour comes. A sudden bolt of lightning and thunder makes you take off in a bad direction, until you’re lost and soaked. Wailing for help.
Enter Simon. A stray (or maybe even a mountain lion?) who’s spied you from the tree line from time to time. You’re scared of him, but he’s so big it’s not hard at all for him to scruff you and drag you back to his den.
He sets you on some soft furs to soak up the water, using his tongue to groom you (a little haphazardly, as it’s apparent he barely even grooms himself). Holds you tight to his chest, fingers bloody as he feeds you strips of meat from his most recent kill.
By the time Price is able to find you, Simon’s curled around you protectively— and they’re both pretty sure you’re knocked up with his litter.
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monster-mash-m · 6 months ago
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What if dilf orc has a young child, the bearer of his child unfortunately passed away. Then he sees you. A plump soft human, a bit softer than the usual orc parent, but in his eyes your tenderness would be perfect for his youngling.
He begins to court you immediately. Always brushing past you to subtly scent you, bringing his sweet baby with him to try and sway your choices. Of course the little orc toddler immediately makes your heart melt, the way they waddle over to you curiously, the orc child despite being extremely young was already up to your waist.
If you give into his courting? Be prepared for princess treatment. Being carried everywhere by him as the new parent of his child. Of course you’d naturally gain a lot of muscle from being with him, due to an orcs typical rugged lifestyle and the fact that your new adopted orc toddler likes to be carried and coddled! How could you say no to such a chubby cute face? You’ll be carrying them a lot, and orc babies are HEAVY so yeah, prepare to get swoll.
But to compensate I can definitely see your orc dilf spouse making sure you get more than enough food, after all you’re burning way too many calories carrying his youngling around, and plus he needs to keep you squishy for optimal cuddles.
DILF orc always brings you home gifts from fights or battles, mainly skulls of his enemies (how charming 🥰) or maybe a whole deer, already cut up and prepared for you to cook, he’s very doting.
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yeyinde · 7 months ago
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thinking about Simon who just gets out of prison for murder after he's been locked up since he was 18, and starts working at a slaughterhouse for his parole. a big, scary dog who has bloodstains all over him, permanently crusted in the crease of his nails because he prefers field dressing over dragging the carcass inside the shop. who always smells of iron and sweat, and looms over you like he was trying to keep everyone else from looking at you. possessive, but you only know him from rumours and blog posts. his stare, the intense, hungry way he looks at you always gives you the creeps.
he's bad news. and he tries to woo you by feeding you meat from the animals he butchered (getting angry whenever you buy cuts from someone else), and won't go away even when you tell him to leave you alone. you've heard the rumours. read the news articles. nothing about this man is any good—
but he won't, of course. the thing about prison is that you need to hold onto the things that you have and take the stuff that you don't. a sort of cutthroat survival that has raised him better than his own mother. so, when he finds you (something he doesn't have, but wants), it's just in his nature to take.
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toxicanonymity · 6 months ago
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DOMESTICATION
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MR. GHOSTFACE x F!READER 🔪 1.8K WORDS SUMMARY: He has his way with you while you're stuck. WARNINGS: 18+ Noncon, unsafe PIV, knife/blood, collar. Inspired by this scene and ask 🔪 Divider 🔪 MY FICS
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Down on all fours like the prey you were, you tore the cloudy, plastic flap off its hinges and began to squeeze through the little door. You thought to scream but choked on the air you drew in. With your head through the hole, you coughed and glanced around. No one in sight. Fallen leaves tumbled and scraped across the driveway over the muffled sounds of the party.
No one was coming to save you.
You managed to wriggle halfway out, but no further. In the process of trying, your skirt got all bunched up. The cool air of the garage was hitting your ass, and your lace panties with their heart shaped cutout were doing nothing to help.
He had to be enjoying this. Probably admiring his knife with a smug tilt of his mask. Why was he so quiet?
You stopped struggling, taking a moment to catch your breath and think. He should've caught you by now. Was there any chance he left the garage? Any chance he wouldn't kill you?
He didn't have a habit of leaving them alive.
When you began to struggle again, a weak motor droned awake, making your stomach drop. The garage door began to lift, and the bottom edge of it dug into your stomach. Your heart sank with dread. Within seconds you’d likely be dead or mangled. Seconds, IF you were lucky. The thought of him dragging out your demise was even worse. You had seen his crime scenes.
Your knees lifted off the ground as the door made its ascent.
“Please,” you begged, shoes sliding against the floor.
The garage door creaked as it came to a halt. Your feet pedaled in futility, searching for the floor. You lifted your chest, trying to wriggle backwards. The only way out of this cursed little door-–if there even was a way out-–led right to his knife.
“Please, please, I won't run. I'll be good,” you begged through tears.
Silence. Unlike him.
“I'll be good,” you repeated quieter. "Please, Mr. Ghostface."
The motor started again, and you winced. But the door began to lower, allowing you a moment of relief as your bare knees met the cool, smooth floor.
His footsteps got louder and clearer as he crossed the space. Despite being unable to see him, you knew his presence loomed behind you-–you could feel it in your bones.
Sure enough, two gloved hands gripped your thighs, lifting your lower body for a moment and spreading your legs before setting your knees down further apart.
He made a place for himself between your knees, spreading them even wider. The smooth fabric of his robe pooled over your legs with him between them. He ran his gloved hands up your torso from your hips to your waist, pushing your skirt up further so it was up around your navel. Then, two satin thumbs lightly brushed your skin, tracing the heart-shaped cutout of your underwear.
After a moment of rustling behind you, a gloved finger slotted between your panties and ass. He pulled the garment out from your body, then the elastic tension released with a slice of his knife.
More rustling. His movement made the robe graze your butt. You weren't sure if you were imagining the sound of his belt coming undone behind you, but the thought of it made your face heat up.
The heavy fabric of his robe lifted off your calves, removing any doubt about what he was about to do. You tried to ignore the way your pussy throbbed.
The smooth head of his cock nudged your entrance, then slid wetly along your slit, forward and back. You hadn't realized just how aroused you were until feeling cock glide so smoothly against your well lubricated cunt. The head lingered at your front, nudging just the right spot. Your hips tilted all on their own, and he paused before sliding back to your wet little hole, resting the curve of his tip just inside.
He gripped your hips and pushed forward, intruding into your tight, warm sleeve with his thick, hard cock. Inch by inch, his stiff manhood pushed its way into you, the pressure of his girth pushing the breath out of your lungs. He slid all the way in without much difficulty and paused after bottoming out.
You took a much needed breath.
The skin of your chest radiated warmth. Your whole upper body was hot, despite the cool air.
Your lower body was warm and stuffed.
Two big, gloved hands wrapped around your thighs, then lifted. Your body lurched forward as far as it could, then he pulled you back on him, bottoming out deeper before he let your weight back down.
You braced your forearms on the driveway and he moved his hands up to hold your hips. He withdrew most of his length then squeezed your hips and pulled you back again as he slammed all the way back in. This wasn't bad… he was slow, almost careful.
Almost as though he could hear your thoughts, he seemed to drop all restraint. He buried his cock in you at a steadily increasing pace. You were shaken by just how good he felt inside you.
You bit your arm to stifle your moans, but it was no use. He'd have to hear your sounds of pleasure, as humiliating as it was. You removed your mouth from your bicep, leaving a string of spit as you took a deep breath.
As you inhaled the night air, it smelled like someone was having a bonfire... Someone, somewhere had come outside. Maybe even the neighbors.
But you didn't cry for help.
It was as though the cock in your cunt had gagged your throat, paralyzing you. It couldn't be that you didn't want him to stop, could it? No, you told yourself.
With every thrust, it felt more like a lie.
The rhythm of his pounding made your breasts jiggle. Your arms and wrists rubbed against the driveway, but you hardly felt it. Any discomfort was drowned out by the pleasant stretch of his girth, and the grip of your pussy clinging to his length as it pushed through you.
You closed your eyes and went somewhere else, giving into the feel-good chemicals coming to boil in your blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was the rush of survival and how much was his dick, but the combination had you hurtling toward the stratosphere. Full, you were packed full. God, it felt good. Even better, the more you let yourself feel it.
There was something freeing about completely submitting to his will. Letting him use you like a fucktoy. Giving in, letting him win, you could relax and let it all wash over you. With your body held in his hands and wrapped around his cock, you felt weightless. There was no longer pressure to fight back or flee. The only pressure was low in your gut, building toward something unthinkable. Closer with each heavy stroke.
You spasmed with a whimper.
He abruptly sped up to jackhammer pace, pushing you to the brink within seconds. You rode that edge for longer than you thought anyone could keep up that pace. You remembered to breathe, and then you saw stars. The hair on your neck stood up as you clung to the ethereal force that rippled through your loins. Pleasure shot through your core to each limb.
He slowed down as you clenched around him, then bottomed out deeper. It was like he’d created more space in you and packed it with more cock than you ever thought you'd take.
Until the warmth began to spread inside, you didn't realize he was coming. He had given no outward indication of it. You could hardly distinguish your throbbing from his, until yours faded and he was still twitching.
The grip of his hands eased up as he finished. He held you with your ass flush against his wiry hair, anchoring you. Plugging you.
After a minute, it started to feel colder outside. You felt more exposed, vulnerable, but still dared to imagine he might leave you alive.
One hand let go of you, and his robe shifted, brushing the back of your thigh. He pulled back your ruined underwear again. This time, he cut through the side and took it all the way off. Then, the surprisingly warm flat of his blade pressed against the side of your butt cheek. It slid up over the curve of your flesh.
Your heart pounded, reminding you to fear for your life.
The metal left your skin, only for the point of the blade to then prickle the center of your lower back. He held you still, and his cock twitched inside you as he began to draw blood.
You pleaded, “don't," but your insides throbbed.
A sharp, white heat followed the blade, curving upward, out, and down toward your crack. He repeated it on the other side to complete the heart. Your ears burned and pounded with their own pulse. Your inner ears began to ache.
Finally, his cock slid out of you, and after a moment of jostling, he got out from between your legs. Then, facing your side, his robe grazed your back as he hovered over you and grabbed hold of your waist. He tugged gently. You extended your arms in front of you and held them together as he pulled you back into the garage. warm blood trickled into your crack as you sat up. His gloved thumb smeared it upward.
Clear snot was coming out of your nose. You sniffed and he wiped that too, with a knuckle.
Holding his knife, he showed it to you as he stood up. He crossed the garage in just a few strides while you obediently sat back on your knees, adjusting your bra and fixing your hair.
He returned with his hands full.
Your face fell blank when you looked up to see a collar with a leash hanging off it. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He tilted his head, then stooped down to reach around your neck and fasten the it. The arms of his robe created a curtain of darkness as he adjusted the buckle and tested the tightness with two fingers between it and your neck.
He stepped back, holding the leash, and tilted his mask, waiting. There was something else in his other hand. He clicked it, then tossed it aside as the garage door began to rise. He reached down and helped you up. Then, he walked you down the driveway and into the night, with a warm mess trickling down your thighs.
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thank you for reading 🖤
and tysm for your comments and asks 🙏the feedback and encouragement really helps me.
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ophelieverse · 8 months ago
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“i was abed” yeah sure😒
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lxnarphase · 9 months ago
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dog hybrid!f. toji who likes to lick you.
f. toji who can't go a single day without licking you, whether on your hand, your arm, your face, or your neck. he just needs to, he doesn't no why, but his instincts are constantly screaming at him to mark you with his tongue.
sure, biting is fun, but he just needs to run his tongue all over you. you may not think he's being honest, but he swears up and down that you taste so fucking good, the taste of your skin his favorite. fuck, he's gotta try to hard not to sink his teeth into you...or else he'll be lapping at your thigh all day.
however...dog hybrid!f. toji who likes to lick you, his sweet loving caretaker who has the most sensitive neck ever.
he's got you in his lap, ears flicking and his tail thumping against the bed as he nuzzles into your neck, scenting you. he's feeling extra possessive today, it seems, grumbling against your skin.
"mine, my girl..." "don' talk to any guys t'day or i'll rip 'em apart." "gotta smell like me, ok? don' let my smell go away."
but then toji's thick tongue sticks out his mouth and he drags it against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. you shiver and he's hooked, loving these reactions your giving him. his arms around your waist keep you from moving away.
it's wet and sticky, his saliva making your skin glisten. the sounds your making are so pretty, his tail thumping louder against the bed as he keeps you from hiding your neck away from him, pushing his face into your neck.
you whine that it's sensitive, that somethings wrong, that your stomach is feeling to hot, that you feel like you're going to pop, and before you know it, his slobbering all over your neck, sucking on it, grazing his teeth over the skin. "gonna cum? g'nna cum just from me lickin' your neck t' make sure y' taste nice 'n' sweet f' me?"
it's okay that you don't answer, he doesn't mind, but he just tightens his hold on you, slobbering and drooling all over your skin, savoring the pretty moans and choked whines he's getting from you. so when you curl in on yourself, choking out his name, he's growling, sinking his teeth into your neck to get a little taste of your blood, knowing it always tastes so much sweeter when you cum.
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rockingbytheseaside · 8 months ago
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Hi! I wanted to say I absolutely adore your art and headcannons! I wanted to ask if you would be interested in making a headcannon for our lovely harbingers where there is someone trying to sabotage their relationship with the reader like for example the person is saying that the reader is cheating or is saying mean things about the harbingers and that they have ,,proof" it is if course a lie. Don't force yourself to do anything you don't want to tho!
(Absolutely genius idea! Sorry to keep you waiting! I’m a slow writer…)
✦ When others try to sabotage your relationship with them
Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe
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(tw: general mentions of violence and blood. sfw) 
Being intimate with a powerful Fatui Harbinger provides the illusory dream of having riches, power, and status. Some watch you with hushed murmurs as you accompany your beloved with linked arms, looking all elegant beside him. Perhaps some people cannot comprehend how such a ruthless Fatuus can even court someone like you. Others simply cannot comprehend that status and money is not a key factor in your relationship.
✧ To crossfire with Pierro is to go against every single Fatui Harbinger. The Director is known far and wide as a man of cold words and power beyond the seven nations. All valuable intel and actions are reported to him first and foremost, as even the top Harbingers bow before him. You, on the other hand, were not meant to bow before him. The Jester shall never let you lower your head, because it is he who shall stoop to worship you. 
However recently, a certain rumor reached his ears. His spies related to him info that certain Fatui soldiers, some lowly commoners at the bottom of the ranks, are spreading uncouth jabs about you and Pierro. Intel states that these fools think you infiltrated the Fatui and The Director’s inner circle by some intimate provocation and seduction; that you’re in it for the money and status.
Pierro’s gloved hands gripped the papers. Nevertheless, his expression is placid as always. 
Thus, the culprit now sat in Pierro’s office, trembling as the room oozed with murderous silence. The Jester never raised his voice, nor did he question the man who “joked” about you. The fellow kept spitting apologies, begging for mercy. He knew it was futile to lie or waste the Director's patience.
And the Jester? It took everything in his power not to get his gloved hands bloodied. To hear someone accuse you - his most cherished, as a shallow harlot? Consequences shall be faced. Calming his boiling turmoil, Pierro continued to conduct himself professionally:
He made sure the man and his entire generation met their oblivion. 
With the recruitment of his best spies, he ascertained that the culprit’s disappearance was not felt by a single soul, his entire family gone, and all traces of spread rumors eradicated. Above all, it was orchestrated so that you would remain unaware that anyone dared to tarnish your reputation.
You carried on with your life, blissfully unaware and undisturbed. Even now, you came in knocking on his office, asking: “Long day at work, honey? I can bring you some tea or coffee if you want.”
The Jester's smile returned, throwing away some crumbled documents into the trash can - “A tea break would be excellent, my divine.”
If it’s blood that needs to be spilled to protect you and his private affairs, then Pierro won’t think twice. 
✧ For Il Capitano, the way of the blade speaks more for its wielder than words. If you wish to prove your stance, you better be prepared to face the First Fatui Harbinger, as his might will test you in a relentless duel of strength. So what do you think happened when Capitano overheard someone calling you “weak”? That his beloved does not deserve an ounce of his attention, because you are a meek being compared to the Harbinger? 
His hand instantly found its place on the hilt of his claymore. He left no room for negotiation or doubt. He marched straight towards the culprit, unsheathed his weapon, and pointed the sharp point of his blade straight at the person.
“If you are so confident to spit such insolence about them, then you must be equally confident with your strength. Let your blade speak.”
The poor fool tried to defend himself with excuses. But his mocking meant nothing to the Captain’s weapon. Before you know it, there is an ongoing duel initiated by Il Capitano. The witnesses know that whoever is on the receiving end of his wrath has no chance of surviving. Not when a single swing of his weapon causes craters on the ground.
The man was about to collapse, accepting his violent demise. But just as Capitano was about to unleash his final lesson, your voice rang out amongst the crowd.
“Hey! Cease this commotion at once!” - you stepped up, your expression stern as you stood in front of your beloved. In a rare moment of vulnerability, the Captain’s already stoic body language shifted. His claymore was sheathed back to its place.
“My beloved, you shouldn’t have seen this…”
“And yet I did. It would’ve reached my ears anyway. What did I say about temperamental duels, Capitano? Morons are not worth it.” 
“He called you weak. I cannot allow it.”
For a minute, Capitano kept his head hung low in reverence. You stood with your arms on your hips, scolding him. Was it not for your intervention, that person who vocally mocked you would’ve been lying dead now. Instead, you spared the offender, and the man was allowed to flee in humiliation. 
The conflict was eradicated, and Capitano's imposing demeanor showed he didn't regret his actions. Considering how even Capitano bowed to your words, the accuser realized - you are not weak. Because if there was one person who made the First Harbinger go motionless then it was you. 
✧ Today was a good day for Il Dottore, but you weren't sure why. He was a tad clingy, his steps laced with a sense of giddiness. Giving you extra squeezes while hugging, smothering you with longer kisses on the cheek. Even as you sat idly in his lab, you watched him as he worked on some paperwork with a grin.
Thus you questioned him, lazily strolling around his lab and observing the countless tools or vials. But he waved off his excitement, tapping his pencil over some papers - “Nothing of major importance, but I did have something interesting happen recently.”
You raised an eyebrow, beckoning him to continue.
“An idiot made a pathetic attempt at spreading rumors about us.” - You stopped in your tracks, going still as you held some miscellaneous container with what seemed to be tissue samples. The Harbinger continued: “Some fool spoke behind your back; stating that anyone who is close with a heretical scholar is bound to be equally insane. They thought that if their words didn't reach you, then it's of no consequence.”
Your expression fell somber with each word Dottore spoke. He said it with such profound avidity, that his voice demonstrated threatening intent behind them. So he continued. “But you know me, dear. Nothing goes past me. Vile nicknames are nothing new to me. My work is not for the faint of heart, and those pesky cretins enjoy concealing their fear with profane titles. And they can call me whatever they want. However, I won't allow them to call you names. Not because of my work.”
You averted your gaze sadly onto the samples of veins and organs in vials. You pretended to inspect them, but your sorrow was more prominent. You suspected Dottore already did something, hence his unusual giddiness today. Thus, you inquired in a soft whisper - “So… what did you do?”
“I handled it, naturally.”
“...You did? What happened? To the person who said such things, I mean.”
“What happened? Dear, you're holding them in your hands right now.” - Il Dottore beamed, pointing at the vials of organs you held. 
✧ Today, Scaramouche was eerily silent. You were accompanying him during one of his work expeditions, aiding him with certain formalities regarding his Fatui subordinates. The 6th had soldiers working under him, and although he did not care for their training, he did not tolerate any incompetent weaklings.
Therefore, you decided to lend a hand. You helped conduct a training program for his underlings, making sure all standards were met. It’s not the first time you did so, since The Puppeteer often placed you as the second in command whenever he was absent. And the Fatui soldiers did not conceal their thrill - it’s like you were their favorite substitute teacher who was more cheerful and forgiving than their superior.
Either way, Scaramouche saw that the mission was going smoothly. But soon, lightning would strike. A certain Fatuus, an agent in training, was getting too charmful with you. It was during the usual training assigned by you, and this person was focusing more on his conversation with you than his training:
Telling you how you are a remarkably skilled person. How it’s a marvel to see someone so delightful as you working alongside the Balladeer. How you shouldn’t waste your time with someone as aggravating as Lord Harbinger Scaramouche. He’s even leaning closer towards you.
You smiled uncomfortably, your attempts at polite disagreement did not work with this agent. Yet now you felt the static in the air, and that’s when you realized - Your beloved heard all of it.
On this usual, unassuming morning, Scaramouche walked silently and struck a man with lightning. All eyes turned towards the commotion as you stood behind the Harbinger. His fists were clenched, sparks of electro crackling from them.
He may have been silent the whole day, but don’t mistake his silence for impassivity.
“Next time, know your place,” - he seethed, standing over the person who endeavored to sweet talk you. He permitted his subordinates too much leeway, now they dare charm you with empty flirts. Scaramouche would’ve stomped that man’s head if he wanted, but he wouldn’t create such a grotesque scene in your presence. Instead, he turned away, held your hand, and pulled you away.
He gave you a day off, his mind already conjuring plans to deal with his underlings later. At least he scoffed out an apology. Not for what he did; he does not lament that. Just a small ‘sorry’ for giving you a quick fright. The lightning strike was very loud, after all. 
✧ Pantalone often gets invited to luxurious meetings or extravagant galas. Any party that is attended by the richest man in Teyvat is a guarantee to make high-society elites turn heads. However, considering your prolonged relationship with your darling Pantalone, you know he secretly despises these social gatherings. Therefore, he takes you with him. Dressed in your finest, Pantalone proudly shows you off to the pompous aristocrats.
People would watch enviously, thinking to themselves: The Regrator’s sweetheart, spoiled by his riches. Your attire is as glorious as his expensive suit. His arm is tenderly linked with yours, always offering you his hand like a true gentleman whenever you two walk. Even as he conversed with various business partners, he always had to make sure his hand was around your waist or your hand.
This dotting behavior made certain ladies of Snezhnaya jealous. They could see you were not a noble-born, nor were you used to the attention during such gatherings. You just timidly accompanied him, and Pantalone kept rambling about you and your benign achievements. Childish, really. You’re probably someone who just ran after and clung to the Harbinger until he relented to keep you. Therefore, a group of ladies initiated the conversation: 
“It’s a pleasure to meet a man such as yourself, Lord Harbinger.” and “Why, a man of your status is probably seeking some interesting company. Oh? You are with someone? My, my, I did not notice them.” or “Surely you desire connections worthy of your status, sir.”
Pantalone had mastered the art of courteous smiling, yet even his act was about to crack. He noticed the way these ladies tried to stand too close to him, pretend you were not in the picture, or even passively mock you. Their insolence stenches, and noticing your silent discomfort caused his heart to sting. But he had a plan.
“Why yes, you are right,” - Pantalone smiled with his charming looks “I do value my time, and it’s important to not waste it on shallow conversationalists. Oh, but it’s such a shame that the people in front of us are just that. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Pantalone turned to you, his arms encircling your waist while speaking such backhanded comments with triumphant smiles. The ladies’ smiles fell instantly, and you tried everything to avert your gaze. “Um, Pantalone? Maybe we shouldn’t-”
“Shouldn’t bore ourselves with such lowly individuals? Hmm, I agree. There isn’t much to do here anyway, only the greedy will seek something in this superficial gathering. Oh well, let’s go so I can take you to dance, dear.” - Pantalone concluded in his usual enamoring tone “Ladies, if you would excuse yourself.”
In this world, the 9th of the Fatui Harbinger doesn’t excuse himself - others do. Therefore, he took you away, scoffing and checking up on you with hushed whispers. Pantalone was offended. Why do they assume it was you who desperately sought out the rich Harbinger? Little do they know it was Pantalone who used to run and seek your attention just to be yours. Honestly, they’re discrediting his neediness for you. 
✧ Should anyone meddle with Tartaglia’s personal life, they are picking up a brawl. Someone dares to flirt with you? His fists are ready. Someone said something unwelcoming about you? Anything in the vicinity can be used as a weapon. Someone endangers his relationship? Their life is now in danger.
Of course, you’re the one who consistently yanked him out of these fights. Usually, it’s nothing serious, as when you scold your boyfriend for such reckless behavior it ends with his heartfelt words and apologetic chuckles. He finds solace in embracing you from behind, gently enfolding his arms around your shoulders, reassuring himself that all is well.
However, Tartagia is still a Harbinger. Away from home, he’d personally search for intel on the culprit who dares to offend your relationship. Names, records, locations, anything to keep tabs on those who think they can drag his family into bloodshedding matters. Tracking is of no issue, after all, when he was still a young rookie, training as a Fatui agent was just the first step.
Once he determines the offender, he’ll pay a discreet visit to them. And this time, without you dragging him away from fights, there is no place for mercy or jests.
At night, Childe returned home, cheerful as the sight of you getting ready for bed welcomes him. Yet in the dim lights, you’d gasp and approach him with concern, catching traces of smeared blood on his face or hands.
Ajax would just smile; he didn’t need to explain. Instead, he would quietly approach you from behind and envelop his arms around your shoulders in quiet stillness.
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screampied · 8 months ago
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Small itty bitty req 😽😽😽 Vampire! Gojo who cums just from drinking her blood..? 🤕🤕🤕😸
vamp gojo getting a taste for the first time ★
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◜ ❦◞ — warnings. fem! reader, vampire au / gojo, mentions of blōod, touch starved gojo, spıt, cowgirl, praise, premature ejaculatıon, biting, mdni.
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you were one of his many weaknesses—disregarding the plethora of other vampire known things such as sunlight, garlic, or even stakes. you and your taste alone was enough to bring him to his knees. gojo’s entire body feels scorchingly hot the moment you cream down his cock. he’s still twitching from the inside, gentle honed claws piercing into your skin. “p- please,” he’d pant, pointed tips of his ears burning more and more tepid. a lukewarm breeze sets against his skin before he conceals his face into your neck. “m- my precious little . . human,” and you moan the moment his long, forked tongue licks a stripe near your neck. “i want more of you. please.”
there was a bit of a tremor in his voice - shaky. the more stripes he licked up your neck, the more he became addicted. the vampire’s cock was embed into you, feeling the sheer snug and warmth near the inside before his eyes roll back. with irregular breaths yanking from his lungs, he looks at you, a gentle nail scraping near your neck before he pouts. “can .. can i?”
he wants a taste,
as you’re taking your seat on his lap, it didn’t take you long to realize what he meant. gojo wanted to feed off of you. two broad hands of his grab onto your waist, pulling you close. body against body, skin against skin—your warmth was the only thing that made him pulse.
funnily enough, it’s known vampires don’t even have a pulsing heart, and yet you made him feel alive. it’s ironic.
his dick was still plugged into your gripping, gluey walls before you give him a sweet reply. “go ‘head toru, baby. get a taste.”
your voice,
it was such a treat to listen to, almost harmonic.
the way you spoke in such a pretty tune was enough to have him dump another load into you. and then another, then another.
the vampire lets off a needy moan at your answer, not hesitating to incise his chiseled, sharp fangs into the crook of your neck.
“mhm,” he whines, and you feel a bit of slippery saliva trickle its way near the edge of your neck. you were so tasty that it was enough to make him drool. as gojo licks it up, you hear a long sluuuurp and he’s making sure to savor your metallic taste. to him, you taste like candy.
and already,
he’s addicted. his tongue whisks itself against the growing bite marks and he whines again. pretty frosted lashes of his flutter as he’s relishing in your flavor. needless to say, you were simply drool worthy. “my s- sweet girl, hah, taste even better than i imagined.”
you stay still, remaining to sit on his lap. the base of his cock squishes down a bit the more your ass grinds against the weight. he groans, and the body heat that’s sticking against the two of you grows more heated. as he’s feeding, you can hear a little growl escape from his lips once you playfully try to move away. “mine, s- stay,” he grumbles, making sure to not suck away too much blood. the vampire was well aware of the precautions and didn’t wanna leave you too weak or lightheaded, regardless of how sweet you tasted. “hngh, ‘s good. ‘m gonna c- cum i think.”
“s- satoruuu,” you breathe, taking a moment to swallow and the only thing you ended of gulping down was your sweet, sweet pity.
you felt your cunt start to spasm sporadically, one hand gently wrapping around his throat as he’s collecting more of a taste. “thaaaat’s it, ‘s good. good boy, suck harder baby.”
a snowy wisp of a strand runs down his forehead before he pouts — pointed ears twitching at your praise.
good boy . .
a whine rips from his throat again, and already he can feel himself starting to thrust against you. sloppy thrusts but you still felt every inch rut its way into you. he was so eager, so feral. he couldn’t help it, if you kept teasing him this much he was going to stuff you full.
again, and again, and again.
“oh, you like when i call you that?” you peer up at the vampire, watching as he momentarily breaks away his lips from your neck. a cute fang of his pokes out underneath his bottom lip and there’s metaphoric heart eyes shimmering in his blown irises.
“y- yes,” he nods, a slight crack in his tone as you’re still happily straddling him. gojo’s face flushes deeply and a sharp gasp shortly follows. “ngh, say it again, please.”
leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose, his eyes ultimately widen into the size of saucers. “good boy, ‘toru.”
“f- fuck, woman,” he snarls under his breath, your touch alone able enough to harm him more than pungent garlic ever could.
gojo can’t help but crane your neck slightly to the right again with one hand. he moves it back to it’s original position before sinking his fangs into your neck again. once more, he feels the prodigious tang of saltiness coat against his forbidden buds that run against his tongue. you moan, tossing your head back in pleasure before feeling him starting to sniff you.
as if your taste wasn’t enough - your scent was just brutal.
you giggle at bit at the sensation of him getting off to your naturally sweet aroma. his dick was growing more aroused. its twitching multiplies and you feel every movement from the inside of your stingy walls. gojo’s whining gets louder, and before he knew it, the crown of his cock starts to vigorously thrash and thrash against your cunt. your walls were being greedy, you were barely even moving and yet, your gummy walls continue to hug him tight, never letting go.
because in the end, you didn’t wanna let go,
not now, not ever.
“c- cum, ‘m gonna cum,” he huffs, soft warm lips ghosting against the new bite marks that tattoo against your skin. he stares at his gift to you with the most lewd expression, eyes half lidded and all. feeling himself get more sheepish as each second passed, he whimpers. “i- oh, really gonna make me—”
and it’s a long pause.
it’s almost too long, radio silence and yet it was deadly. right before you could utter out a word, you feel a spurt of hotness ooze its way into your pussy. it’s slow and it’s slimy, coming out in thin velvety ropes. so much to where you feel it shoot into the very depths of your womb. gojo’s a mess, his whimpers reaching higher pitched volumes before he buries his face into your neck again.
shame overtook him—sharp nails of his gently graze against your hips as he’s holding you close, a milky ring around his base shortly painting around his fat base.
whenever he came, it was a lot. piles and piles of it, you weren’t even moving a muscle and you had him this weak. the finish came to him like a truck at full force, it was a constant ringing in his ears.
your hips buck and he grows quiet— his favorite part, listening to the final finishes. ripples of rapture overtake his body as he’s pouring his all into you, and he takes a moment to suck against your neck once more. your cunt squelched and his seed made sounds similar of its own. you mewl out a sweet sob, feeling his tongue flick against the few remnants of blood that were left near your neck before he sighs deeply.
not only was he pussy drunk but he was perhaps he was in love.
“i- i—” he murmurs, still having his face buried deep into your collarbone. gojo didn’t want you to move, he wanted you to stay. “more.”
“more what, ‘toru?” you whisper, still feeling him dump such a heavy amount of cum into you as if it was nothing. it was sticky, gluing against the entrance of your pussy as if it was some kind of adhesive. it was a mess— you were filled, a few strings of cum gluing against your opening, you feel the warmth coat against the outside and the inside. you gingerly pull his head up to look at you and the vampire leans into your gentle, familiar touch. “mm?”
“more of you,” he grumbles, and you let off a gasp once he makes you lie back, spreading your legs.
the vampire strums a soft padded thumb against your pulsating clit that had wads of cum spilling out in nice clumps before he leans down. gojo groans, lapping his own flavor up with his tongue before flickering his pretty cerulean eyes back up at you. giving your pussy a kiss, crooked sly smile forming on his reddened glossed lips. “not done, wanna bite her next.”
and you gulp, chest heaving in and out— you leer down at gojo and realize he was staring straight at your sopping wet cunt.
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bunnis-monsters · 10 months ago
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NSFW
You certainly love your poor himbo!vampire lover, but he’s definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed.
Like all vampires, his saliva has healing properties so his victims don’t bleed out during his feedings. Because of this, he’s taken to freaking out when you get injured and immediately licking the wound, planting a soft kiss on it after.
He smells your blood, and he gets nervous. The man adores you, he’d be lost if you died!
So when you woke up to the soft ache in your cunt being combated by the pleasure of your boyfriend sucking on your clit, you were quite confused.
As you rubbed your sleepy eyes, you heard your boyfriend choking on his sobs, tears rolling down his pale cheeks as his hands held onto your thighs.
“Y-you’re gonna be okay, angel. Going to… going to make it better…” he blubbered, your blood dripping down his chin before he moved back to your aching cunt.
“Love…”
He sniffled as you reached out a hand to cup his cheek, gently swiping your blood from his lip. “I’m not injured, I’m just on my period.”
Your lover blinked, his eyes going wide, and you could tell if he could blush his cheeks would be a bright red with embarrassment.
“O-oh…”
As he pulled away, you grabbed him by the hair and guided his lips back to your pussy. “But you’re still helping, sweet thing.”
His eyes softened and he settled back down between your thighs, his cheek resting against your belly as he softly nuzzled against it. “Then I’ll take care of you… I’ll always take care of you, my angel…”
So you sat back and relaxed as he fed, making sure to gently push you over the edge and ease your pain.
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callmeagardengnome · 2 months ago
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✗ blood in the clouds ✗ | KIM HONGJOONG
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pairings ✃ mafia leader! hongjoong x flight attendant! fem! reader
genre ✃ mafia au, non-idol au, SLOW BURNN
synopsis ✃
it’s finally your last day as a flight attendant. you wanted nothing more than to laze on your couch and watch netflix - just to find out that one of your passengers blew out the brains of your pilot with a gun.
in which hongjoong hijacks a plane that his rival’s daughter is on.
w.c ✃ 10.5k (yes im a yapper im sorry)
c.w ✃ dark themes, vivid descriptions of gore, guns and knives, kiss scene but no smut, use of the nickname ‘brat’, ‘pretty’ and ONE TIME - ‘princess’, your dad’s a dick oops, vulgar language, reader is smart
not proofread!
masterlist
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white clouds drifted by the airplane window as the sky turned from a soft blue to a deep orange.
it would’ve been a pretty sight if it weren’t for the gun to your head.
you’d called in sick or put in your two weeks notice earlier if this was how your last day of being a flight attendant would end - but apparently, life hates you too much to let you catch a break.
HOUR 1 OF 7 - TAKEOFF
‘god- i can’t take this anymore,’ you thought to yourself. you hated waiting, despised it actually. 
after today, no more jet lag, rushed goodbyes or missing celebrations. you can finally unpack that suitcase for good, find someplace quiet and actually live in it. the thought alone was enough to keep you excited, but something bothered you at the back of your mind.
this trip didn’t feel right.
it wasn’t the plane itself, but your passengers? only 2 showed up in a plane that could seat at least 50 people. 
not that you were complaining. fewer passengers meant less work - which was a good thing. 
but the uneasiness you felt kept rising in your chest, no matter the times you tried to push it down. 
‘just 6 more hours,’ you thought. ‘then this will all be behind me.’
HOUR 2 OF 7 - MEALTIME
meal service started like any other: boring. 
after handing out the trays, you pushed the trolley back to its place and returned with beverages. you plastered on your most professional smile as you walked over to your passengers. “would you like a drink?”
the man with sunglasses turned to you lazily, his eyes shifting from the trolley to your face. “what do you have?”
you sighed, quietly but deeply. you had that stupid list engraved into your mind by now. “water, coffee, tea, coke, spri-” 
“-do you have alcohol?” he cut you off. 
your eye twitched. this dickhead.
first of all, he interrupted you. and secondly, you didn’t mention the alcohol on purpose. it was stored at the back of the plane and you did not have the energy to drag it out. 
“uh hongjoong- i mean, boss-“ the guy next to him whispered hurriedly. “i don’t think that’s a good idea-“
“-i think it is,” hongjoong interrupted before turning back to you. “where’s the menu?”
you gave him a forced smile as you pushed the alcohol menu towards him. he took his time with it, flipping through the pages slowly before finally saying, “two shots of whiskey.”
“sure thing,” you snatched the menu back. with a swift turn, you fetched the whiskey and the glasses, returning back to his seat.
you poured and placed the two shots on his tray table. he took the glass and drank it in one go, setting it back down with a thud. 
hongjoong then turned his head towards you, eyebrows raised. “what?”
you blinked. ‘what’? just ‘what’? where's the ‘thank you’? 
you were losing your mind.
“nothing,” you muttered through clenched teeth, moving away before he could ask for anything else.
grade A asshole.
HOUR 4.5 OF 7 - POINT OF NO RETURN
the shitty in-flight wifi was a joke as always. why did you even try?
with an annoyed sigh, you shoved your phone into your back pocket when suddenly-
static.
its piercing sound followed by faint garbled voices on the intercom startled you. you frowned as the sound continued, getting louder and more distorted.
with a groan, you stood up, straightening your uniform. ‘what are they doing?’ you thought as you walked towards the cockpit.
but when you passed by the first-class cabin, you paused. the seats were empty. both passengers were gone. ‘weird…’
things only got weirder as you approached the unlocked cockpit door. 
concerned, you pushed it open.
the smell hit you first - a metallic tang that twisted your stomach.
then your eyes caught up.
blood splattered the walls and windows in chaotic streaks, dripping down to the controls and the carpeted floor. the pilot and co-pilot laid in a gruesome pile to the side, the jagged holes in their skulls grotesque. 
a guy sat at the controls, steering the plane as though he wasn’t surrounded by horrors. 
grade A asshole- no, hongjoong, sat cross-legged on the floor, his sunglasses shattered at his feet. a gun rested in his hand and his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you enter.
“you’ve got to be kidding me..” you breathed out. 
pieces of brain and organ matter clung to the control panel as a simple blinking green light above that indicated that everything was, somehow, still functioning.
hongjoong tilted his head, amused. the gun shifted to point at what you now noticed was the crumpled bodies  of your pilots, their faces mangled in unrecognisable masses of flesh and bone.
“these your friends?”
you shook your head as you stepped back, wiping your sweaty hands on your uniform. hongjoong seemed to enjoy your reaction, his grin widening into something sickening. 
he smirked. “don’t worry, i won’t spoil that pretty face of yours.”
you coughed at the wretched smell as the crimson-stained carpet squelched beneath your heels, your mind begging you to leave.
“well-” you said, turning to the door. “i’m sure you don’t need me here, i’ll just-”
an audible click cut you off.
you froze.
slowly, you turned back to see a gun aimed directly at you.
“leaving so soon?” he raised an eyebrow. “let’s talk.”
HOUR 5 OF 7 - SKYDIVING DOESN’T SEEM TOO BAD
hongjoong dragged you to the first-class section to ‘talk’. it was the first time you’ve ever sat there and to be completely honest, this was not how you imagined yourself ‘enjoying’ it.
well, not like it mattered. you had other issues - like handcuffs locking you to the chair.
he stood infront of you, one hand gripping the gun while the other held a file. “‘____’, am i right?” he asked. 
you nodded slowly. “..that’s me.”
“3.6 GPA in university..” he muttered. “flunked out of med school during your first year..”
..how the hell did he get that information?
“you ended up as a flight attendant because your father owns the airline.”
“..yeah,” you reluctantly admitted, your stomach churning. “uh- was the med school part necessary?”
hongjoong ignored you, flipping to the next page. you watched his eyebrows shoot up as his eyes narrowed. “how close are you with your father?”
you blinked, confused by the weird question. “i mean- he’s my dad,” you replied. “but i haven’t seen him in years.”
“hm,” the sound came from him. hongjoong studied you for a moment longer before he spoke again, but this time, his voice was cold.
“do you know what he’s been doing during those years?”
your brows furrowed. “no, i-”
“killing. my. men.”
you didn’t even have time to process his words because he leaned forward when he said them, the gun uncomfortably close to your face. 
you swallowed the lump in your throat. “...are you sure you have the right person?”
his smirk widened into something eerie. “i have a gun pointed to you, don’t i?”
your pulse quickened. you couldn’t decide which was worse: the possibility that he was telling the truth or the fact that he was clearly enjoying your reaction.
“i always wanted to get back at that pig..” he held the gun up to the bottom of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “and look at how kind the world is- blessing me with his daughter.”
you struggled to breathe, to think. the handcuffs dug into your wrist as you unconsciously tried to break out of them, a clink against the metal arm of the chair.
your voice trembled. “..what do you want from me?”
hongjoong didn’t answer immediately. instead, he leaned in even closer, so close that you could feel your foreheads touching.
“what i want,” he said slowly, eyes locked onto yours. “is for your dad to suffer.”
HOUR 6 OF 7 - SURPRISINGLY ALIVE
the stuffiness of the plane did little to calm your nerves. you sat quietly in the seat, staring at the shattered remains of your phone on the floor.
hongjoong snatched it from your hands a few minutes ago, grumbling about how ‘you don’t need devices’. great. just great. 
the sound of the cockpit door creaking open drew your attention. the other guy - or ‘pilot’, stepped out, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. “boss.”
hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “what?”
the ‘pilot’ moved closer to hongjoong, lowering his voice. “air traffic control was notified of our path,” he said quietly. “they know something’s off with the plane, but i have no idea how.”
hongjoong’s eyes darkened as he processed the information. then, he glared at you, like he was accusing you.
you scoffed. “you shot my phone, how would i even contact anyone?”
for a moment, the two of you locked eyes and you swear that you could see him debating whether to believe you.
the ‘pilot’ cleared his throat. “what should we expect?” he asked nervously.
hongjoong leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “the police.”
HOUR 7 OF 7 - SHIT IS GETTING REAL
“what the hell…” you whispered to yourself as you peered out of the window.
SWAT teams and federal agents stood in rows, their weapons pointed directly at the plane. flashing lights of red and blue lit up the empty airport. 
you turned away from the window, watching hongjoong pull out a burner phone from his jacket. his fingers typed something out before he suddenly snapped the phone in half, tossing the remains on the floor. 
“…who are you?” you asked quietly.
he raised an eyebrow. “you don’t need to know, pretty.”
your survival instincts told you to move, to do something. but the second you tried to stand, hongjoong shoved you back down. 
“stay seated until we land,” he said before tilting his head. “isn’t that your job?”
you rolled your eyes, gripping the armrests as you tried to calm yourself down and steady your breathing. 
but that was when you heard it - gunshots. 
“they’re shooting us?” you panicked, flinching with each sound. 
no answer.
“hey-“ you tried again, but was cut off by the tires hitting the terrain. 
the landing was rough - harsher than anything you’ve experienced as a flight attendant. the plane rattled like never before.
your chest tightened when it rolled over something particularly large. “what was that?” your voice cracked. 
no answer. 
when the plane finally came to a halt, you barely had time to catch your breath when hongjoong moved. in a blink, he uncuffed you from the chair, only to secure the handcuffs on your wrists once more. 
he brought you to your feet, pulling you so close that you could feel his breath against your ear. “don’t do anything stupid,” he hissed. 
the cockpit door opened and the ‘pilot’ appeared. he quickly unlocked the emergency exit and you saw the makeshift ramp that had been attached to the side of the plane. 
a van rested just outside of it, hongjoong dragging you towards the vehicle. you descended the ramp, the cool air hitting your face as you looked around. 
but that was when you saw it. 
blood. 
on the wheels of the plane, the dark colour leaving a fresh trail on the ground.  
“did you..” you gulped, your voice barely above a whisper. “did you run over them?”
hongjoong glanced at you. “i didn’t,” he shrugged. “the plane did.”
you stopped in your tracks, your feet stuck rooted to the ground as you stared at him in horror. how could he say that like it was no big deal? just who was this man?
“move,” hongjoong ordered. but when you didn’t, he clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. “god- you’re such a brat.”
before you knew it, you were shoved into the back of the van. the ‘pilot’ closed the door with a loud slam and sat in the driver’s seat while hongjoong took the passenger’s seat up front. 
you met hongjoong’s eyes through the rearview mirror. his glare was sharp, acting as a warning to keep your mouth shut. you didn’t need to be told twice.
the van drove forward and you caught glimpses of city lights in the distance, slowly growing closer. civilisation - maybe you could get help. 
but against your mind’s wishes, you felt your eyelids getting heavy - and you did something that no one should ever do when they’re in a car with armed strangers.
you fell asleep.
HOUR 14 OF 7 - HIP HIP HOORAY YOU’RE NOT DEAD
you heard a voice whine. “why can’t we kill her?” 
“do you want boss to kill us?” you heard another reply.
your eyes fluttered open. your head felt heavy as the room came into focus, your stomach twisting. 
the space was dingy, poorly lit by a bulb hanging from the ceiling and an unnecessarily tall lamp on the ground. the walls were stained and the air stunk of blood.
you tried to move, only to feel tight ropes against your wrists and ankles. you were tied to a chair.
“i can’t believe we have to babysit the pig’s daughter,” a man with a knife groaned.
“calm down, wooyoung,” the other one sighed.
“calm down?!” wooyoung exclaimed. “yeosang got to fly a plane! how is that fair?”
“he has a license,” the second man rolled his eyes. 
“it’s still a plane, jongho-”
“shut up,” jongho interrupted. “the girl’s awake.”
both men turned their heads to look at you, the sudden attention sending a shiver down your spine. wooyoung’s grin stretched across his face as he got to his feet, jongho following behind.
“aw look who’s finally awake,” wooyoung approached, his voice childish. “you slept like a baby- and we didn’t even drug you!”
your heartbeat quickened as he leaned in close, his grin widening as he studied your face.
“i read your file,” he began. “you’re smart…” wooyoung paused, his eyes inspecting you and your ridiculous uniform. “and hot.”
your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to respond. “thank you-?”
“-what’s your favourite feature about yourself?” he asked, twirling the knife in his hands.
“uh-” your mind scrambled for an answer as he got nearer, the knife glinting. “i- my eyes?”
“your eyes,” wooyoung repeated, the grin stuck to his face. “good choice.”
he brought the knife closer, the cold steel trailing down the side of your face. you flinched as the blade hovered near your eye, your breath hitching.
“you’re going to answer all our questions,” he stated, almost in a sing-songy way. “and if you dont-”
he tilted the knife, now directly above your eyeball. “-i’ll dig those lovely pearls out of your sockets.”
your chest tightened, terror paralyzing you from head to toe. you couldn’t even breathe, every cell in your body pleading you to stay still.
“hey-” jongho tapped wooyoung on the shoulder, whispering. “uh.. boss said we can’t scratch her..”
“are you serious?” wooyoung scoffed. “then what’s the point?”
jongho bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding eye contact with his friend.
wooyoung groaned, throwing the knife to the ground with a strength that made it bend. “fuck this- torture isn’t even fun anymore.”
he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
silence was in the air until jongho cleared his throat awkwardly. he turned to face you. “uh..” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. 
“change of plans.”
HOUR 15 OF 7 - DAY DRINKING IS FUN
you never imagined yourself in a hideout, drinking vodka with one of your captors - yet here you were. 
the whole thing felt absurd: a shaky barstool beneath you and a scuffed counter separating you and jongho. he poured you a shot he claimed was ‘very expensive’, before proceeding to chug most of the vodka from the bottle in a long gulp. 
your legs were untied now, though your wrists were still bound, the rope loose enough for your hands to rest infront of you. “what are we waiting for?” you asked. “hongjoong?”
jongho froze, his eyes snapping to yours. “don’t say his name,” he whisper-shouted.
you raised your tied wrists in apology. “okay.. what should i call him?”
“call him boss.. or mr kim.. or anything that isn’t his first name,” jongho said, his words rushed. 
you nodded slowly, looking at the man infront of you with mild concern. he looked even more scared than you did. 
then suddenly, the door slammed open. 
both you and jongho flinched, watching two figures stumble in. 
the first was a tall man - storming into the room. the second was him, hongjoong, clutching his side in pain.
“mingi- boss!” jongho panicked instantly as he ran to help the injured man. “holy- you’re hurt!”
“the pig called for backup,” mingi sighed heavily. 
you blinked, stunned as the sound of hongjoong coughing violently brought your attention back to the injured man. 
blood seeped through his fingers, staining his sleeves and skin. you don’t know what took over you, but you pushed yourself off of the barstool and rushed towards him. 
“what do you think you’re doing?” mingi stepped infront of hongjooong, his hand resting on his gun protectively. 
you glared at him. “do you want your boss to bleed out?”
mingi studied you. after what felt like ages, he exhaled sharply and stepped aside. “fine,” he muttered, keeping a hand on his weapon. 
you knelt next to hongjoong, trying to make him face you as you grabbed his arm. though, he snatched himself away from you quickly. 
you rolled your eyes. “i’m trying to help you, asshole. let me see it.”
hongjoong’s eyes pierced your soul. you could see the cogs in his head turning on whether he could trust you. 
a few moments passed before he finally faced you with a sigh, revealing a large gash on the side of his stomach - a wound created by knife. 
“i need water.” 
jongho blinked, clearly thrown off. “what?”
“to clean his wound..?” you explained. “get me water. now.”
jongho hesitated before snatching a bottle of water from a mini fridge. he pushed it to you, the little amount of liquid sloshing inside. “you should stay still for this,” you said before slowly pouring the water over the wound. 
crap- a gash this big needed a stitch. 
“untie me,” you said, holding your wrists up to your captors. 
jongho glanced at his boss worriedly for permission. hongjoong gave a small nod and jongho quickly pulled out a small knife to cut the rope. 
once free, you quickly looked around for something to stitch his wound with. when nothing looked remotely useful, your eyes dropped to your uniform - a skirt with a yarn trim. it wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.
you began to unravel the yarn from the hem.
“what are you doing?” mingi asked, frowning.
“stitching him,” you sighed as your fingers worked hurriedly. “or do you want him to get an infection?”
hongjoong let out a groan, shifting uncomfortably. “just hurry.”
you finished unravelling it, but now you needed a needle. your hand instinctively reached up to your hair - pulling out a small bobby pin. it was definitely not as sharp as a needle, but you’re sure that hongjoong can handle his pain.
“shit- i need to sterilise this,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.
“vodka,” jongho said instantly, grabbing the bottle and handing it to you.
you poured the small amount over the pin, letting it drip onto the floor. then, threading the yarn through the makeshift needle, you glanced at hongjoong.
“this will hurt,” you warned.
he looked at you with clenched teeth. “i don’t care.”
you placed a hand on his side to steady him, feeling the tension in his muscles as he tried to not flinch. carefully, you began to stitch the gash, each pull making him wince. 
when the stitching was complete, you tied the yarn and tore it off with your teeth - but the wound was still bleeding slightly.
you glanced down at your sleeves. without hesitation, you tore a strip of fabric free. you used it to dab away the excess blood, then folded the remaining fabric to wrap it around his side. 
“that should work. for now,” you sat back as you wiped your forehead with your arm.
“...you know how to treat people?” hongjoong asked, wincing slightly. 
you nodded slowly. “yeah.. i know the basics.”
“hm,” he tilted his head. “you’re more useful than i thought.”
you blinked. was a good thing or a bad thing?
“wooyoung,” he yelled out. 
a loud crash was heard in another room, followed by the muffled sounds of frantic movements. within seconds, wooyoung appeared in the doorway. 
“yes, boss?” wooyoung said out of breath, brushing off his shirt as he looked around the room. 
hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. instead, he looked you up and down, his lips twitching into what seemed like a smirk. “get her some actual clothes. we have an event to catch.”
HOUR 17 OF 7 - WORDS TALK BUT GUNS TALK LOUDER
“woah..” your eyes took in the building before you. glittering lights and an impressive exterior that was way more extravagant than anything you imagined hongjoong to be involved in.
he parked the car, the engine coming to a stop. before you could say anything, hongjoong stepped out of the car, closing the door shut. you scrambled to follow him, your heels clicking against the pavement as you caught up.
the two of you approached the man stationed at the door - a bouncer with a pen and clipboard.
without warning, hongjoong’s hand snaked around your waist, pulling you snugly against his side. you flinched at the sudden contact, but with how tight his grip was, there was no room for protests.
“ah, mr kim,” the bouncer greeted. “you made it.”
hongjoong offered a brief, fake smile before dropping it immediately. “let us in.”
“hold on now,” the bouncer said, flipping through the papers on the clipboard. “we can’t let her inside.”
hongjoong’s brows furrowed. “why?”
“new policy,” the man sighed, pretending to sound disappointed. “no more plus-ones.”
hongjoong rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. instead, he reached into his blazer, about to pull out a-
“nevermind!” the bouncer’s face turned pale. he stepped aside with a nervous laugh. “you’re all set- enjoy the night.”
the interior was breathtaking - chandeliers hung from high ceilings and round tables were scattered across the venue, draped in pristine white table cloths. 
“don’t eat or drink anything here.”
you blinked, nodding slowly at hongjoong’s words. “okay.. but why-”
“-and if you really want to stay alive,” he interrupted, his lips brushing your ear. “don't leave my sight.”
his voice sent a chill down your spine. “okay,” you mumbled as he brought you further into the room.
he led you to a seating area - though it looked more like a conversation pit, where an old man sat waiting. 
hongjoong released his grip on you to sit across the man, gesturing for you to follow. you hesitated briefly before settling next to him.
“mr kim,” the old man greeted gruffly. his eyes shifted to you, studying your face. “i see you brought someone.”
hongjoong gave a nod, glancing at you. “introduce yourself, brat.”
“oh uh-” you put out your hand reluctantly, forcing a polite smile. “i’m ‘____’.”
the old man’s eyes narrowed before they widened in realisation. “her father-“
“-i’m glad you noticed,” hongjoong cut in. he slowly reached into his blazer again, but this time, he actually pulled out his pistol. 
your eyes widened as he aimed it to your waist, the cold metal brushing your side. “wha-“
“w-what are you doing?” the old man’s face drained of colour, panic flashing in his eyes. 
hongjoong tilted his head. “let’s negotiate.”
“mr kim-“ the old man began, his voice cracking. “as his friend, you do understand that i have to tell him she’s here.”
“do it,” hongjoong shrugged, leaning back. his arm returned to your waist, pulling you to him as he tapped the gun against your side. 
“let’s see if he values his money more than his own daughter.”
HOUR 18 OF 7 - LIFE ISN’T FAIR
a loud crash echoed through the venue, making you jump. the sound of heavy footsteps grew violent with every second.
hongjoong’s hand tightened around your waist as he stood, dragging you up with him. “move.”
“wait-!” the old man called after you, but hongjoong didn’t stop.
his grip on you was firm, the barrel of his gun pressing against your stomach. you tripped over your feet, struggling to keep up his pace.
“where are you taking me?” you panicked as you glanced over your shoulder at the armed men closing in.
“to your father, princess,” he sneered, his voice mockingly sweet. 
“mr kim! stop right there!” 
you froze, whipping your head around. standing at the far end of the room, infront of a small army of armed men, was your father. 
“let go of my daughter,” your father ordered. he pointed a gun directly at hongjoong, his men following suit. 
your eyes glanced around the room - seeing guests cowering against the walls, some injured and others dead.
“i’m not giving up the brat until i get what i want,” hongjoong demanded.
“what you want is an impossible amount of money!” your father yelled, his grip on his gun tightening.
“impossible?” hongjoong’s eyes widened with craze. “you have more than $500 million tied to your name! did you think i’ll forget who you killed to get here?”
your blood ran cold. “dad.. you killed people?” you asked, your voice trembling as you looked at him.
for a split second, your father’s eyes softened, though that quickly disappeared with a scoff.
“if i didn’t, you wouldn’t have a roof over your head,” your father spat. “you were too stubborn to do anything after you dropped med school.”
the world seemed to tilt, your father’s words more piercing than any bullet. “but i didn’t-”
“-you did,” your father interrupted you. “i spent all that money bribing them just for you to fuck up.”
your heart sank as tears welled in your eyes. hongjoong noticed your reaction, his grip on the gun loosening slightly. 
“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t make my hostage cry,” he said. “do you really want those to be your last words to her?”
“shut up,” your father snarled, his finger close to the trigger. “i’ll say what i want. she’s too stupid to argue back anyway.”
the tears you held back spilled over and all you could hear was your dad shouting, “get her!”
HOUR 18.5 OF 7 - THEY WANT YOU SOO BAD
gunshots were heard in every direction, completely deafening. 
the pungent smell of gunpowder burned your nose as you stumbled, your legs barely holding you up. hongjoong shoved you to the ground, his hand against your back. 
“stay down,” he ordered you, raising his gun and firing without hesitation.
you flinched with every shot, watching in horror as armed men fell one by one with his aim. the world felt like it was spinning too fast and you could barely keep up.
suddenly, a hand grabbed your arm.
“stop moving!” your father yelled, his grip painful as he dragged you towards the exit.
“no!” you choked out, your heels digging into the floor in an attempt to resist. panic ran through your veins as your eyes darted around desperately.
your eyes landed on a fallen gun near your feet. you quickly snatched it, hands trembling as you tried to point it towards him.
“don’t make me do this!” you cried.
your father didn’t stop and without thinking-
-you pulled the trigger.
a bang was heard, followed by his rough scream as he collapsed to the floor, clutching his bleeding thigh.
“oh my god,” you whispered, the gun slipping from your hands as tears flowed uncontrollably down your cheeks. you sank to the floor, staring at the blood pouring out of him.
“you bitch!” he shouted in pain.
out of the corner of your eye, you caught hongjoong watching you, something strange flashing across his face. was that.. surprise? pride? maybe he was impressed?
hongjoong fired a shot at an armed man without looking, moving to you quickly. 
“didn’t think you had it in you, pretty,” he looked over his shoulder. “but we need to leave.”
he led you to a small janitor’s closet near the exit. the narrow space smelled of bleach, but at least it was quiet.
hongjoong shut the door behind you and dusted off his blazer. without a word, his dark eyes inspected you, checking your shoulders and arms.
you stood motionless, too shocked to stop him as he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb wiping away the mascara-stained tears from your cheeks.
“nothing broken,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “no scars either..”
he pulled out a burner phone, typing something quickly.
“i- i just shot my dad,” your shoulders shook as new tears welled up in your eyes.
hongjoong glanced up from the phone, meeting your eyes. “..are you bragging?” he asked bluntly.
“what? he’s my dad-”
“-and he’s a dick,” hongjoong cut you off. “you might share blood, but that man clearly hates you.”
you hiccuped, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “...am i going to hell?”
hongjoong scoffed. “come on-“ he began, but stopped himself when he looked at you and the tears spilling from your eyes. “you didn’t kill him… you’re fine.” 
you opened your mouth to protest but he silenced you as he continued typing. “and even if you did,” he added. “you’re doing the world a favour.”
he smashed the burner phone onto the ground, discarding the pieces. he reloaded his pistol before turning back to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he led you through bodies and debris.
outside, a black van waited by the curb. hongjoong pushed you inside before climbing in after you, slamming the door shut behind him.
“drive,” he ordered.
as the street lights went past you, you slumped in your seat, completely exhausted. “where are we going?” you asked softly.
hongjoong studied you for a moment, watching your eyelids go heavy. “...go to sleep, brat.”
DAY 2 - OH HONEY I'M HOME
you woke up with a jolt. you sat up from the couch you laid down on, completely disoriented. your eyes darted around the dimly lit room. the hideout. 
relief and fear spread within you. you were safe - for now.
just then, a knock from the doorway made you jump. “didn’t mean to scare you,” a man said, leaning against the frame. “boss wanted me to check on you.”
you blinked. “i- okay,” you coughed to clear your throat, wincing at how dry it felt.
“i’ll let him know you’re awake.”
and with that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone once more.
though that didn’t last long. moments later, hongjoong entered. he carried a stool over, setting it down across from you before sitting. 
“how long did i sleep?” you asked hoarsely.
“a day,” he replied with a shrug.
your eyes widened. it was only then you noticed your attire - a baggy t-shirt replacing the outfit you were wearing before.
“who changed me?” you blurted out, heat rising to your cheeks.
“i did,” hongjoong answered. he noticed your flustered expression, tilting his head. “what?”
“did you-” you cleared your throat. “did you see anything?”
“i’m not a pervert,” he scoffed. “if it makes you feel better, you were changed in the dark.”
you fell into an awkward, heavy silence as you sat across each other. for the first time, there was no danger, no gunfire or anyone yelling out orders. just silence.
“your dad..” hongjoong began, speaking up. “wants you dead.”
“...what?”
he held up a cassette tape, tossing it onto the table between you, your hands trembling as you picked it up. hongjoong then brought out a cassette tape player, allowing you to hear your father’s voice.
‘mr kim, we’ve had our ups and downs, but i’m sure that we can agree on one thing - that bitch who shot my thigh is a liability. an idiot that made it this far because of me. she’s no longer my responsibility or family, so expect to find her head on a stick when you turn your back. have fun.’
“what the fuck..” you whispered shakily as it came to an end. 
“to be honest, your only purpose was to be a hostage.” hongjoong’s fingers drummed the edge of the stool. “and now that he doesn’t want you.. you’re useless-”
the world around you crumbled, his words making you feel worse. 
“-to him.”
your eyes widened, looking at him in confusion.
“you’re smart,” he shrugged. “and you stitched me.”
you blinked. “…where are you going with this?” 
“i want you to be an addition to my team,” he replied.
“do i have to kill people?” you blurted out. “or steal, or-”
“no,” hongjoong raised a hand to cut you off. “all you’ll be doing is treating my injured men. quite the opposite of killing.”
you frowned, furrowing your eyebrows. “why would you trust me with that?”
“because,” he said, leaning forward. “you have nowhere else to go.”
“that’s not true-”
“really?” hongjoong smirked. “do you know how many businesses your dad owns?”
you shook your head.
“more than 80% in the country,” his eyes sparkled with something dark. “now that you’ve shot him, you’ve burnt every bridge he’s built for you.”
your jaw dropped. “but-”
“no job, no family, nowhere to live either since he owns most of the real estate here.”
you stared at him, struggling to process his words.
“here’s my offer,” hongjoong continued. “you get a decent amount of money, a place to live and protection...”
“...just to treat people?” you asked in disbelief.
he nodded. 
you bit your lip, staring at the floor as you picked at your nails. how could your dad do this to you? abandoning you just like that? and now he wanted you dead? you could feel yourself getting angry just thinking about him.
after a long moment, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. “deal.” 
MONTH 1 - FAMILY BONDING 
that evening, you sat on the floor with san, wooyoung and yeosang, eating a batch of cheap instant noodles. it was a little awkward - mostly because you just joined, but you were silently appreciating their efforts to make small talk with you. 
suddenly, a loud bang was heard through the hideout. the three men jumped up immediately, pulling guns and knives from who knows where. 
“back entrance?” wooyoung asked as he sharpened his knives. 
your heart raced as you watched the three of them shift into combat mode - and you caught yourself lagging behind. you hurriedly stood up and grabbed the medical kit you kept close. 
“stay here,” san said firmly. 
you shook your head. “if someone’s injured, i’m coming.”
the three of them shared a look before yeosang gave you a reluctant nod. “…just stay behind us. we’ll get in trouble if you get hurt.”
they moved swiftly and silently through the narrow halls of the hideout, weapons in hand. you trailed closely, your heart pounding as you gripped the medical kit tightly. 
when you reached the back entrance, san motioned you to stay back while they checked the door. 
the signs of forced entry were obvious - the lock was broken and scuff marks lined the floor. 
wooyoung scoffed, speaking under his breath. “stupid piglets.”
yeosang sighed. “looks like they took a few weapons and left.”
“are they testing us?” san asked, inspecting a footprint on the ground. 
before anyone could respond, the door slammed open making all of you jump. you turned to see mingi, his chest heaving as he leaned against the door frame. 
“meeting. now.”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the hideout’s ‘meeting room’ was more of a cramped closet with mismatched chairs and a comically large table in the middle. hongjoong paced at the end of the room, his jaw clenched. 
“we can’t stay here any longer,” he began. “it’s only a matter of time before they come back in full force.”
hongjoong stopped pacing and crossed his arms. “we need to move back to our old apartments. they’re scattered enough to keep us hidden until we figure out our next move.”
you shifted uncomfortably. 
hongjoong noticed this. “what?” he asked, his sharp eyes landing on you. 
“i uh-“ you hesitated. “i don’t have a home..” you said sheepishly. 
hongjoong raised an eyebrow. 
“my dad owns the house,” you admitted. “and that’s not really an option anymore.”
“right,” hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “shit..”
“alright, who has space?” he clapped, glancing around the room. 
everyone exchanged uneasy looks. 
“we don’t,” yeosang said, gesturing to himself, san, wooyoung and jongho. “the four of us are already crammed into one place.”
“same here,” yunho spoke up. “mingi and i barely fit in ours.”
hongjoong turned to seonghwa, his face hopeful. 
“no,” seonghwa said without hesitation. 
a heavy sigh escaped hongjoong as he pinched the bridge of his nose. he leaned against the table, deep in thought. 
minutes stretched into what felt like hours before hongjoong finally spoke up. “you’re coming with me,” he said, looking directly at you. 
your eyes widened in surprise. “..what?”
“you’re staying at my place.”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the car sped down the (somewhat) empty highway, the faint smell of vanilla from the air freshener mixing with the lingering scent of old fast food. 
you gripped the edge of your seat as the streetlights ran by the window in a blur. “are we in a rush?” you nervously glanced at hongjoong. 
“no,” he replied flatly. 
there was a black car beside you that had been keeping pace for the past few minutes - and just as you shifted in your seat, it suddenly swerved infront of your car and slammed the brakes. 
“what the-” you barely managed to say before the impact. the car jolted violently as it hit the one ahead, the sound of metal crunching loud. 
hongjoong let out a low string of curses under his breath. his face was weirdly calm as he unbuckled his seatbelt, stepping out of the car without a word. 
“wait-” you scrambled to undo your own seatbelt. 
from your seat, you saw him approaching the car. the moment he glanced inside, his eyes widened. he reached for his gun and pulled the trigger instantly. 
the loud gunshot made you flinch and your stomach twisted as you saw the slumped figure in the driver’s seat, blood splattered across the windshield. 
your heart pounded as you stumbled out of the car, rushing towards him. “why did you do that?!”
hongjoong turned to you, his jaw clenched. “it was a piglet.”
“wha-“ your eyes drifted to the body, a shiver going down your spine as you saw the bullet hole clean through the skull. 
hongjoong, completely unfazed, went back to the car. you stared at the lifeless body for a moment longer before hurriedly following him. 
once you were back inside, you swallowed the lump in your throat, attempting to break the suffocating silence. “….how did you know he was a piglet?”
hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. his fingers flexed against the steering wheel as he glanced at you. 
“they have a bullet tattoo..” he said finally, pulling down his collar to point to his collarbone. “..right here.”
you blinked. “oh.”
“if you ever come across one,” he continued. “kill them on sight.”
your eyes widened, your throat tightening. “what about the police?”
he fell silent for a second, his eyes fixed on the road. then, a faint smirk crossed his face. “you don’t need to worry about them.”
his answer left you unsettled, but before you could question him further, the apartment building came into view. it was modern - standing tall with the city skyline. 
hongjoong smoothly pulled into the parking lot. the abruptness of the stop sent you forward, but his hand shot out instinctively, pressing against you to keep you steady. 
“sorry,” he muttered, his voice soft - though he didn’t look at you as he retracted his arm. 
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
some might describe hongjoong’s apartment as ‘minimalistic’, but to you, it’s just an excuse for a grown man to avoid decorating. 
the walls were devoid of any art or family photos, the kitchen was spotless - though it was definitely untouched with how there was almost no food in the fridge. and from what you saw, the only source of entertainment was a lone TV. 
“do you..” you began, looking around the bare space. “do you even live here?”
hongjoong ignored your comment and walked towards the big couch and began to pull it into a makeshift bed. the springs creaked slightly as he unfolded it. “this is where you’ll be sleeping,” he said, dusting himself off. 
“cool.”
“don’t complain-“ he stopped himself mid-sentence and narrowed his eyes when he realised what you said. “wait, you’re okay with this?”
you blinked. “…yeah?”
“hm,” he said, slightly surprised. he looked you up and down before turning to the long hallway. “get some rest, we’re getting you a phone tomorrow.”
MONTH 2 - LIVE LAUGH LOVE GUNS
you should’ve known it wouldn’t be long before the piglets attacked you again. 
hongjoong sent you on a simple supply run - nothing unusual. but as you stood in the small pharmacy, you felt the air shift when the cashier’s demeanour turned cold. 
it all happened so fast. 
the moment you saw the gun aimed at your chest, your eyes fell to the faint outline of a bullet tattoo peeking out from his collarbone. great. 
your breath hitched as your body moved on impulse. you barely avoided the first shot as you ducked behind the display rack. 
the pharmacy was strangely empty, no one else to intervene. your heart pounded as the sounds of footsteps and gunshots echoed. 
fumbling with your phone, you dialed every number you could think of. yet, no one answered. 
your hands trembled as you typed hongjoong’s number, your last resort. 
he picked up after one ring. 
“this better be important, brat,” he grumbled, groggy like he just woke up. 
“i need help-” you semi-yelled as you narrowly dodged another shot, darting behind the counter. “i’m getting attacked-”
“-send your location,” hongjoong interrupted. “i’m on my way.”
the line went dead before you could respond. 
you sent your location and shoved the phone back into your pocket. the cashier reloaded the gun, his footsteps growing louder. and just as you moved, he charged. 
he grabbed you, trying to pin you down. you barely managed to fight back, until you made an educated attack - kicking him in the groin. 
he groaned, stumbling back. you took the opportunity to snatch the gun from his hands. 
you pointed it at him, your hands shaking. “stay back,” your voice cracked. 
the man scoffed. “over my dead body,” he lunged at you again. 
your finger moved instinctively, pulling the trigger. 
once. 
twice. 
again and again and again. 
the sound of gunfire rang in your ears, the recoil sending waves through your arms. you didn’t stop until you heard a clicking noise that meant that the gun was empty. 
when you opened your eyes, he was no longer standing. 
you looked down, the cashier laying sprawled on the ground, the concrete dark with blood. bullet holes littered his body, evidence of your frantic shots. 
you dropped to your knees, your chest heaving. you reached out to check his pulse. nothing.
you just took someone’s life. 
your eyes fell to your hands, bloody and shaking. from young, you always wanted to save lives - not take them. tears fell from your eyes, blurring your vision. 
the door slammed open. 
hongjoong stood in the doorway. he took in the body on the floor and your frozen form in a single glance. he sighed, stepping in. 
“come on, let’s go,” he crouched to grab your arm. 
you couldn’t move, your eyes fixed on the lifeless body. 
“hey,” his fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face to meet his. his eyes were intense, his touch warm against your cold skin. “we need to leave before more show up. you don’t want to kill anyone else, do you?”
you shook your head quickly. 
he pulled you to your feet, wrapping his arm around yours as he guided you to his car. the ride back was silent as you stared out of the window. 
and before you knew it, you were back at his apartment. 
you hesitated at the door, unable to bring yourself to step inside. 
hongjoong sighed, grabbing your wrist as he tugged you in. he tossed his gun and his keys in the kitchen counter before turning to you. 
“go take a long shower. i’ll be in the living room.”
you nodded, moving to the bathroom in a daze. 
the water was scalding as it hit your skin. no amount of soap or scrubbing would ever make you feel clean from the bloodied-stains. every part of your body felt foreign - even your puffy eyes and lips.
once you were done, you dressed in the softest clothes you had, hoping that it would provide you with some form of comfort (it didn’t).
the pull-out couch was prepared with brand-new pillows and fluffy blankets when you returned to the living room. hongjoong sat on the edge, gesturing for you to sit. you sank down beside him. 
the silence stretched on until it became unbearable. 
you spoke up, your voice barely audible. “…i killed someone.”
“you did,” he nodded. “good job.”
your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “i killed someone.”
“and so have i,” hongjoong leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “does that bother you?”
“i…”
he leaned back. “it should. the first time always does.”
“i don’t think i can do this,” you breathed out shakily. “i don’t want to hurt people..”
the two of you locked eyes for what felt like ages. you could see hongjoong’s adam's apple bob up and down, his jaw tightening slightly. “no one wants to hurt people,” he replied softly. 
you blinked. 
“i shouldn’t have sent you out alone, especially with your dad targeting you,” he sighed. “that’s on me.”
“but-”
“-though i do have to say, this made me realise how.. unprepared you are,” he continued.
your eyebrows furrowed. 
“if you want to survive, you need to know how to defend yourself,” he drummed his fingers against the couch. “...you’re off supply runs. from now on, you’re training with the others.”
you stared at him. “what?”
“the rest have some ‘schedule’ for training. i’m sure you can join without any problems.”
you hesitated. the thought of the blood, the body, the gun in your hands made you nauseous. the idea of training scared you. 
he noticed this, his eyes softening slightly. “you won’t be a killer, just someone capable of self-defense.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat. finally, you nodded, your voice small. “okay.”
MONTH 3 - LET’S GO GAMBLING!
the casino was glitzy and loud with copyright-free music, its neon lights casting eerie shadows on the dark streets outside. 
“you three, cover left. you two, check the vault. the rest of you will stay near the exit,” hongjoong ordered.
you waited for your assignment, expecting to be grouped with someone. instead, hongjoong said, “you’re with me.”
you sighed. “alright.”
you followed hongjoong to the right side of the casino, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filling the space. he moved silently, keeping his gun concealed but ready. you tried to mimic his focus, clutching the knife wooyoung lent you earlier.
the first sign of trouble came when the alarms blared.
armed men swarmed into the casino. piglets.
hongjoong moved first, taking them down in a single shot. you ducked behind a pillar, your heart pounding.
the fight moved fast. hongjoong was precise - he wasn’t even touchable, killing the men easily.
but that was when you saw it before he did: a piglet creeping up behind him, raising and aiming the gun to his head.
“boss!”
without hesitation, you hurled wooyoung’s knife to the piglet.
the knife pierced and plunged into his neck, causing the man to fall, his gun clattering to the ground. 
hongjoong whipped his head around with wide eyes, shooting the man infront of him before spinning to kill the piglet you just hit.
the silence that followed was deafening.
hongjoong’s breathing was heavy as he lowered his weapon. he dusted his clothes off, looking at you with an unreadable expression.
he gulped, finally speaking up. “...good job, pretty.” 
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
slowly, everyone regrouped in the corner, collapsing onto the floor in a circle. bottles of water were passed around as everyone caught their breaths.
for a while, no one spoke, the only sounds being an occasional groan.
“hey,” wooyoung hiccuped, breaking the silence as he turned to you. “give me my knife back.”
you looked at him awkwardly before handing him his completely bloody and dented knife - basically ruined.
“what the hell!” he exclaimed. “that was one of my favourites!”
you shrugged. “you shouldn’t have given it to me then.”
“i didn’t know you were actually gonna use it,” wooyoung complained. “i thought you would just watch.”
“you’re such a dick,” you rolled your eyes.
wooyoung leaned in closer - his voice annoyingly sweet. “aw, don’t be mad, sweetheart. i’ll get you a better knife- one that won’t bend in your delicate fucking hands.”
“shut up,” you groaned, shoving him lightly as the others chuckled.
hongjoong leaned against the wall, his arm crossed over his chest. his eyes shifted from wooyoung to you. 
his chest tightened in a now-familiar way: you’re fitting in too well.
it wasn’t jealousy - at least, that’s what he told himself. it was about control. your presence was a distraction he didn’t account for. but the others took you in so easily, which was technically a good thing, right?
and yet...
why did his stomach twist every time one of them smiled at you?
hongjoong blinked, realising how his leg was bouncing restlessly. he forced himself to stop, sighing deeply.
“you good, boss?” yunho asked.
hongjoong paused. “...i’m fine.”
yunho raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it, turning away.
hongjoong’s eyes returned to you. you were leaning a little too close to yeosang now, laughing at some joke wooyoung said - sending a strange pang through his chest.
why did this bother him so much?
you weren’t doing anything wrong. you were building trust, meshing with the group - just like he expected.
but this wasn’t about the group, was it?
he frowned, thinking. you stitched him right after he kidnapped you, you saved him from getting shot even though you were definitely not ready to fight.
what has he ever done for you?
introduced you to a world of crime? to a world of killing, stealing and hatred? accidentally ruined the relationship between you and your dad?
hongjoong closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
shit.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
without bothering to change, you sank into the pull-out couch - exhaustion pulling you to it like gravity.
you heard hongjoong locking the door behind him, the soft click sounding loud in the quiet apartment. his footsteps shuffled toward the kitchen, the sounds of cabinets opening and closing reaching your ears. you were way too tired to look.
you didn’t realise you drifted off until you were awoken by something heavy on your body.
your eyes fluttered open groggily. for a moment, you thought you were dreaming. hongjoong was in the middle of draping a large blanket on you.
“what are you doing?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.
his eyes darted to yours briefly. “nothing.”
you frowned, shifting to sit up - but he placed a hand on your shoulder, pressing you gently back down. “sleep.”
you let out a quiet sigh. “shouldn’t you be sleeping?” you muttered.
he paused, his jaw tensing. “....tomorrow onwards, you’re training with me.”
you stared at him, stunned. before you could even say anything, he turned and walked away without a word.
…did your boss just tuck you in?
MONTH 3.5 -  PUNCH, KICK, SNARE
“again,” hongjoong said, slightly out of breath. 
the living room felt smaller than usual with the two of you moving around. the coffee table and couch was pushed aside, leaving just enough space to practice your punches without tripping over the furniture. he claimed training here would teach you how to ‘fight in tight quarters’.
he sighed. “your moves are sloppy.”
you groaned, shaking your aching wrists. “i’m trying.”
“that’s not enough when someone’s aiming a gun at your head,” he replied, stepping back and raising hands. “your punches are too weak and your balance is all over the place. reset your stance.”
you rolled your eyes but obeyed, repositioning your feet. it wasn’t the first time you’ve heard those words from him.
hongjoong moved closer, tapping your wrist. “keep your guard up. always.”
you threw another punch, but it barely made his hands move. he lowered them, sighing. “that’s not going to hurt anyone-“
“-i’m doing my best, okay?” you snapped. “i’m not a fast learner.”
his eyes softened for a moment before narrowing again. “that’s not an excuse when your life is on the line.”
you tsked. he was right of course, but that didn’t make it easier to hear.
“again.”
you tried once more, throwing a combination of punches that he blocked with ease. when you attempted a kick, you stumbled, nearly losing your footing.
he caught you instinctively, his hands steadying you.
“watch your balance,” he said automatically, going on a tangent on how training is important and blahblahblah. 
you tried to focus on your surroundings, on the words he was saying, but it was hard to ignore the proximity between you. the smell of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of sweat in the room. his touch wasn’t rough or aggressive like you’d expect - it was gentle.
your eyes drifted to his face, catching the faint scars along his cheekbones and jawline. were those always there? or was this the first time you really noticed?
his brows furrowed, likely in frustration at your lack of response, but the concern in his eyes snapped you back into reality, making you realise that you were staring the whole time.
“i don’t think i’m cut out for this,” the words spilled out before you could stop them.
hongjoong paused, his lips parting slightly - he wasn’t  expecting you to say that. for a moment, he was silent. he then leaned in, his eyes piercing. 
“you don’t get to quit.”
the intensity of his voice made you forget about the aches in your muscles and the sweat dripping down your back. his words weren’t angry - they were commanding. 
“why do you even care?” you whispered, barely audible.
his grip on your arms loosened slightly, his eyes searching yours for what felt like eternity. then out of nowhere, he stepped back, clearing his throat as he avoided your gaze. “take five,” he mumbled, walking to the kitchen.
MONTH 5 - BLOOD, BLOOD AND MORE BLOOD
the office building looked ordinary. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was just another corporate HQ. but you knew better.
and so did hongjoong.
you held up the new knife wooyoung gave you, one that wasn’t as pretty as the last. it was finally the day you ambushed your dad, the man that’s been wanting you dead for months.
you looked up to face hongjoong. “i don’t want to see it,” you said suddenly.
he raised an eyebrow. “see what?”
“when you kill him. my dad,” you clarified, your throat tightening. “i’m.. okay with it, but i don’t want to see it.”
his eyes studied you. after a moment, he nodded. “make sure to stay close to me,” he said before turning to the building.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the group slipped into the building through the side. hongjoong led the way, gripping his pistol tightly as you stayed close behind him.
“elevators are too risky,” hongjoong looked back at the group. “we’ll take the stairs.”
the group nodded, their weapons drawn as they moved quietly through the halls. the fluorescent lights did nothing to mask the sinister aura that was buried in the walls.
when you reached the stairwell, the sound of footsteps echoing above sent everyone into high alert.
the first shot rang out.
gunfire filled the stairwell. the air was thick with smoke and gunfire. you pressed yourself against the wall, trying to avoid all of the attacks happening around you. you tried to go in to fight but-
-someone grabbed you.
you struggled, twisting out of their grasp. but before you could scream, a hand clamped over your mouth, dragging you away. “stay still.”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the stench forced your eyes open - a horrid mix of stale cigar smoke and alcohol. the office was dimly lit and your father crouched infront of you, his face smug as he cornered you.
“you think you’re better than me, don’t you?” he sneered.
you glared at him, your heart pounding. “fuck off.”
a bitter laugh escaped his lips. “you’ve gotten worse since you joined that boy,” he spat. “should i cut off your tongue? unhinge your jaw? or maybe i’ll be basic and shoot you.”
“you’re insane,” your stomach twisted. “it’s hard to believe we’re related, especially with how ugly you are.”
“you-”
before he could finish, you jammed wooyoung’s knife into his other thigh, dragging it down to create a large gash. he let out a guttural scream, stumbling into a desk as blood gushed out of his thigh like a fountain.
you moved quickly, scrambling out of the corner, but two piglets grabbed you before you could get far.
“stupid bitch,” your father hissed, forcing himself up as he took out the knife in his thigh, looking directly at you. “you’re going to regret that.”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
as hongjoong shot another piglet with his pistol, he looked around the haze, searching for a certain someone. “where’s ‘____’?” he asked.
the group stayed silent.
“shit- we don’t know,” wooyoung said nervously.
hongjoong’s face darkened - and without hesitation, he grabbed a nearby piglet by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “where’s your boss?” he snarled.
the piglet squirmed. “i- i have a family!”
hongjoong’s grip on his collar tightened, his eyes widening scarily. “then bring me to him.”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
“your mother should’ve gotten the abortion,” your father said before settling down infront of you, the bloody knife close to your face.
“i’m surprised that a woman like her fucked you,” you breathed out shakily as the blade hit your skin. 
“shut up-“
the door burst open as the knife grazed your skin. hongjoong stepped in, his gun raised. “let go of her,” he ordered.
the piglets hesitated, glancing between your father and hongjoong. your father’s hand didn’t move, a scar forming on your face. 
“you want her that badly?” your father asked mockingly. “you’re becoming soft.”
hongjoong didn’t answer. instead, he moved faster than you thought was possible, shooting the two piglets that held you with ease.
the bodies hit the ground - causing your father to shove you harshly against the wall. pain shot through your body as you heard something crack.
hongjoong froze, his pistol trained on your dad. 
“stay back,” your father warned, hovering the blade near your temple.
hongjoong’s jaw clenched. he dropped his gun slightly, making your father relax.
but then hongjoong lunged.
the fight was brutal, all punches and grunts. you slumped against the wall, your cheek bleeding uncontrollably as every part of your body ached.
after what felt like ages, hongjoong finally gained the upper hand, pinning your dad down as he pointed the gun to his head. but then his eyes landed on yours, wide and terrified - making him freeze.
“shit,” he cursed under his breath, lowering the gun. he turned and rushed to you, pulling you into his arms.
your father tried to crawl away, but hongjoong didn’t let him go far. with you in his embrace, he covered your eyes and ears tightly as the sound of a singular gunshot echoed in the room.
you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. his hand cradled the back of your head, his touch soft. “it’s over,” he whispered as you sobbed.
you shook your head against his chest, the salt in your tears stinging the cut on your cheek. “i almost died.”
“i know,” he said softly. “but i wouldn’t let that happen.”
his words settled over you like a warm blanket. you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face. you could feel the heat of his body as he kept you close.
hongjoong shifted, his hands moving to your shoulders as he looked at you carefully. his thumb brushed over your scar, wiping away the trail of blood on your face.
“you’re shaking,” his eyebrows furrowed. “you need to breathe.”
“i’m trying.”
he reached for a nearby chair and pulled it over, guiding you to sit. hongjoong crouched infront of you, your hands trembling in his.
“you’re safe,” his eyes locked onto yours. “i’ve got you.”
something inside you cracked at his words - and tears spilled once more. hongjoong didn’t say anything, but his presence was enough. he stayed crouched infront of you, letting you take all the time you needed.
when you finally looked up, there was something unspoken in his eyes - a mix of guilt and relief that made your heart ache. “...thank you,” you whispered.
his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but the words never came. instead, he nodded slowly, his grip on your hands tightening for a moment before letting go.
at that moment, you leaned forward, closing the small distance between you. your lips brushed against his, just enough to make his entire body stiffen.
for a second, you thought you made a mistake. his hands paused midair and his breathing hitched.
but then, he moved. to you. 
his hands cupped your face gently, pulling you closer into a kiss. it was slow at first, but when you gripped his shirt tightly - the feelings he’d been keeping were let loose.
his lips pressed against yours with urgency. his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you like you might disappear if he let go. 
you responded instinctively. your hands found his neck, his jaw - brushing over them softly in a way that made him groan. “fuck- you’re so pretty.”
the world around you spun in swirls of blood, smoke and cologne, overwhelming you in a way that made you lose your breath.
hongjoong broke away for a moment, panting slightly. his lips curled into a smirk, before he kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense. it was grounding, reassuring and impossibly warm.
when the two of you pulled back, his thumb traced your scar. “this..” he began quietly. “..this isn’t what i expected tonight.”
you let out a soft, shaky laugh. “me neither.”
he pecked your forehead as he stood up, his legs slightly wobbly from the kiss. hongjoong held out a hand, helping you to your feet. “...let’s go home.”
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series taglist - @hanoishere @scuzmunkie @sinfullygay @arusio @midnightrebel1028 @neemaxx @seungminsrighthand @arilevenatz @ateezswonderland @beabatiny @lemirabitur @sunnyhokyu @frzzenfrxg @cylovesmg @txtsoobean @seonghwasslytherin @sundaybossanova @sweetinsaniiity @cybrnaya @choisanchwego @mrskill2
author’s note: this is the first oneshot of my mafia series! yes it is long but i promise you that it does eat and that you’ll enjoy it. remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, any and all feedback helps!
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BONUS SCENE - MINE
the apartment was quiet as you laid on the pull-out couch, staring at the ceiling. sleep wasn’t coming - your mind was too busy replacing the events earlier.
the memory of hongjoong’s arms around you stayed, along with the feeling of his lips on yours. how could a man as dangerous as him bring you such comfort?
a soft knock against the wall broke the silence.
you sat up slowly, seeing hongjoong standing in the hallway. his hair was slightly damp and he wore a loose black hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. he hesitated before walking to you, his movements weirdly awkward.
“...you okay?” you asked the nervous man.
he shrugged, trying to play it off as he sat next to you. “i’m fine. you?”
“i’ve been better.”
there was a pause as the two of you stared at each other, the silence heavy. finally, he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.
“i’ve been thinking..” hongjoong trailed off.
“uh-oh.”
“i-it’s not a bad thing-” he said hurriedly. “it’s just that.. tonight made me think about a lot of things.”
you tilted your head, confused.
his voice softened as he continued. “but this isn’t just about tonight. it’s about.. everything. i don’t want you to feel.. unsafe all the time.”
“i don’t,” you said instantly, but you’re not sure how much you believed yourself.
he leaned back slightly, reaching into his hoodie pocket. when his hand reappeared, it was holding a pistol - his pistol.
“take this,” he held it out to you.
you blinked, staring at the weapon. “what? why?”
“because it’s mine,” he replied simply leaving no room for argument. “and now, it’s ours.”
you hesitated, your hand hovering over the gun. “i.. i barely know how to use this.”
“then i’ll teach you.”
you looked up at him, searching his face for answers. “...why are you giving this to me?”
you noticed the way his eyes darted down as you looked at him, his fingers tightening around the pistol as he pushed it to you. 
“because,” hongjoong began quietly. “i trust you.”
your fingers paused before finally closing around the gun. the cold metal felt deadly in your grasp, but the way his eyes lit up made your heart swell.
“you trust me..?” you asked softly, a faint smile on your face. “hongjoong..”
his usual composure faltered as you said his name, a blush dusting his face. he swallowed the lump in his throat, gathering himself. “you’re not just a part of the group,” he said. “you’re more than that. to me.”
your eyebrows shot up, completely stunned. “...i don’t know what to say.”
“say yes.”
you blinked. “yes to what?”
“to being mine,” hongjoong’s hands fidgeted slightly.
your heart raced as you heard his words. a wide smile spread across your face as you realised what he was really asking.
“are you..” you paused. “are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
his breath got caught in his throat as he nodded. “yeah.”
the man that was the literal leader of an entire gang, was sitting nervous infront of you. it was a funny sight to see, but you brought yourself back to reality, answering his question.
“yes.”
a wave of relief washed over his face as he let out the breath he seemed to be holding. he reached out, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he leaned closer. “wanna sleep in my bed tonight?”
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