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softestqueeen · 1 year ago

Text

red roses and deadly promises

pairing: Zade Meadows x fem!reader

summary: When your stalker, Zade Meadows, has to do some business out of town, someone new makes an unwelcome appearance. How will Zade react when someone tries to steal you away from him?

warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! stalking, cunnilingus, blow job, face fucking, attempted rape, dom/sub, pet names, death, murder, body parts, rough sex, knife play, dirty talking, aftercare, p in v sex, breeding, creampie, stabbing

wordcount: 10.658 (lol)

a/n: I think there is not enough haunting adeline fanfiction out there, so here you go! btw I don’t know what happened I only wanted to write about 7k words…. anyways enjoy <3

It had been going on for a while.

It started out with harmless flowers paired with deadly promises. Whenever you got home there would be a bouquet of fresh red roses waiting for you. Hanging from it: a note. It wasn’t always the same, but it always went along of the lines of You’re mine, if anyone ever touches you, they’ll die, you’re so beautiful, I love watching you, etc.

The first time you received a bouquet of red roses, the note read:

You’re so beautiful, I love watching you my little mouse. Can’t wait to play with you. Don’t even try to go to the police, it will change nothing. Love, Z

You were scared shitless. You didn’t know what to do. Even though the mysterious stalker told you not to go to the police it seemed like the most logical option. You didn’t want to ask your best friend, as to not worry her too much. She already didn’t like the fact that you moved into your grandmas old “haunted” house that was literally in the middle of nowhere, so the only logical thing for you was to wait. Wait what his – you assumed it was a man - next move was or if he maybe would even stop.

But actually, quite the opposite happened. The roses came more often, even inside of the house while you were there. Sometimes they were in the kitchen when you wanted to eat breakfast or in your bathroom, which could only be accessed through your bedroom or through the window, which is almost too small for a frown man to get through. You found them in rooms you normally wouldn’t go in. Your grandmother’s old study, in the attic, behind doors that were so dusty, you had to wear a mask before entering, scared you would inhale too much of it.

And still, you could be sure in almost every room in your house was a bouquet of red roses waiting for you.

After a few weeks you suddenly felt a shift. You weren’t as scared anymore but rather felt a weird sense of comfort anytime you got something from him. You knew he wouldn’t let anybody hurt you. He protected you like no one ever did and even protected you from himself. Alone the memory of that note made wetness pool in your panties.

I wish I could come to you little mouse. I live to protect you. No man will ever lay a hand on you, be sure of it. But protecting you also means protecting you from me. I wish I could come to you and ruin you, make you my slut and my good girl. I want to be the cat that fetches you and eats you alive, little mouse, seeing the life draining out of your eyes. Every time I, watch you undress, or watch you showering, rubbing yourself with soap, letting it glide over your skin… I’m always so fucking tempted to take you right then and there, especially when I catch you touching yourself. But I will have to wait. I don’t want to ruin your innocence. Yet. I’ll see you soon little mouse. Love, Z

It was the longest note you’ve ever received. You know you shouldn’t, but you’ve read it over and over. It was not just a note, it was a letter. A love letter, a deranged and sick love letter. But a love letter, nevertheless.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you could see yourself falling for him. You knew it was oh so wrong but that just made it oh so much more appealing. A forbidden love to your stalker who you thought may love you even more.

It had been a cold autumn day, and you were very much looking forward to cuddling up with a book under a blanket, drinking warm tea and enjoying the new season from the inside. Maybe even curl up in your grandmothers old rocking chair, that brought you so much comfort.

Entering your home, you indulged in the warmth and comfort of it. You went into the kitchen, expecting another bouquet of red roses with a note hanging from one of the stems. But nothing could have prepared you for what you actually saw.

Your kitchen had a long window that went along the whole length of it and had a beautiful view of the garden and the woods behind it, that seemed to go on forever. There were curtains, but you never used them, rather enjoying the warm sunlight and how it brightened up the room.

In this situation you weren’t sure if you were grateful for the full view of the garden. Because there was a tall figure standing in the woods, but still in a way that he knew you saw him. And he was looking directly at you.

Was that Z? Was that your stalker? Is that really the man who haunted not just your nightmares but also your wet dreams?

You couldn’t see much of him, only that he must be very tall. Probably even a foot taller than you. You had to admit, you were scared. Of course, you knew that there was a real person behind Z but seeing him was definitely something else. It wasn’t just a silly game anymore it was serious now.

You were frozen on the spot and didn’t dare move. You remained in the same spot, even when you noticed that he was now moving towards you.

Again, you didn’t move a muscle but rather concentrated on the details that came now into view. He creeped closer and closer, and you could now see that he was wearing a balaclava or a scarf that covered his nose and mouth. But his eyes told you all that you needed to know.

His eyes were beautiful, even though his right eye was adorned with a massive scar. The scar didn’t take away the beauty of him though, his eye almost white and the unscared one was a beautiful and rich blue.

He came to a stop in front of the window and looked into your eyes. For a moment you were just standing there, gazing into each others’ eyes. And in this moment, you completely forgot that you were looking at your stalker for the first time. You were so lost in the eyes of the stranger you seemed to know so well.

You’ve never felt this connection with someone, though you’ve also never been stalked. Was this a sick variant of Stockholm-Syndrome? Were you going insane? Because you definitely felt like it.

He broke the stillness of the scene and put his hand against the window, looking at you in a way that made your knees go weak. You took a hesitant step forward, planning on putting your hand to his.

He looked at you expectantly, still with his hand to the glass. You reached your hand out and covered his big hand with your smaller one. At the thought of what these hands are capable of, a shiver ran down your spine.

You both waited for the other to pull away, but both of your hands remained on the window. You looked into each others’ eyes, waiting for some truth to be revealed but it remained peacefully quiet.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and he pulled away. He took out a rose from his back pocket, attached to it one of his infamous notes. He put the rose on the windowsill on the outside of the window, sent you a wink with his blue eye and then turned around and walked away, not honouring you of another glance.

The moment he disappeared into the woods, you snapped out of it and ran into the back yard. You couldn’t see him anymore, still you ran until you felt like you were about to pass out, the adrenaline slowly leaving your system.

You went back to the house and took the rose with you, deciding that you would read the note while you were waiting for the tea water to boil. You put the kettle on the stove, a light tremor in your hand.

You put the singular rose in a glass of water before taking the note out of its envelope.

I can’t wait to see you in real life and not just through the cameras. I know you’ve installed some to catch me, but I have also placed some to catch you in my trap, little mouse. Till we see each other again Love, Z

He did WHAT now?? He placed cameras in your house?! You were conflicted. You knew you couldn’t really remove them (if you even found them) because you were sure he’d just place new ones. But in a way you also felt comforted and safe because you now knew he was always watching you and keeping you safe. Yes, you were aware of how weird that sounded but for you it felt so right.

Oh boy, what did you get yourself into?

After the window incident the letters and roses slowed down a bit. If you were being honest, you were a bit nervous. Did he lose interested now that he saw you? Did he not think you were pretty enough to be with someone as handsome as him? You didn’t know what to do. Even though the flowers and notes still came, it felt different.

‘Fuck. My. Life.’, Zade Meadows thought to himself. How was he supposed to get you out of his head now that he had seen you up close. You were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen and now he knew he just had to have you. He didn’t care how long it took but he was going to get you and he would never let you go again. You drove him absolutely wild. The way you looked at him, the mix of fear, intrigue and slight arousal made it hard (no pun intended) for him not to break into your house and fuck you right then and there on the kitchen floor, against the counter and on a chair with you on his lap.

Unfortunately, things were not that easy. You were so young compared to him and seemed so innocent, looking at him like a dear in headlights. He had seen the worst things the world had to offer and also committed some of the worst crimes one could imagine. He didn’t want you to find out that he was such a monster. He wanted to be a good man for you, but he also knew that that was impossible due to his mission.

Yes, he wanted to rid the world from all the pigs that were walking around, and molesting kids left and right. In the beginning the reason for it was that he just wanted the world to be a better place and that no one had to go through the things he had to go through. But now he had a new reason that was way more important to him.

He wanted to make the world a better place for you. He knew that you would be a lot safer once all these horrible people have gotten what they deserved. And he also wanted the world to be a better place for your future children. Fuck, once he had you, he wanted to start a family with you. He knew how dangerous that was due to his profession but once all these assholes have been erased, no children would come to harm anymore. And if there were new ones, he would do the same thing to them. Whatever it took to keep you and your future children safe.

What was wrong with him, why was he thinking about starting a family with you? He had never felt that way about someone. Since he saw you at that book signing, he couldn’t get you out of his fucking mind. You were intelligent, clever, and witty. He read your books over and over before he decided that he needed more than your words.

After he saw you in that kitchen and knew that you saw him too, he had to take a step back. He was coming too close to the point of no return. He knew that there was a line he couldn’t cross yet, and he was literally about to step over it. He sent you less flowers and less notes, hoping that would ease his lust.

Spoiler: it didn’t.

He was completely clueless and out of control. He felt so helpless when it came to you, even though he also knew how much control he had over you. It was the hardest thing he ever had to do in his life: staying away from you.

The only thing he wanted to do was hold you, kiss you, fuck you, and completely ruining you. He would turn his little mouse into his perfect little slut. Into his good girl. He couldn’t wait.

Thank God, a few weeks later the letters and flowers went back to normal. He didn’t tell you in his letters – you started calling them letters because they have gotten way longer in the last few weeks – why he suddenly wrote you less, but you didn’t care now that it was back to normal.

There weren’t any other occurrences with him, and you got out of your house more. You finished a new book – ironically a mafia stalker romance novel – and were now giving signings here and there, mostly at local bookstores though. You loved interacting with your fans and to see them enjoy the books you’ve written.

You were signing books at a bookstore that was a bit further away from your town. You didn’t think much of it and were just excited about being able to talk to more of your fans. The bookshop was stuffed and the line for the book signing seemed endless. The fact that you loved to talk to your fans didn’t help that either.

After saying goodbye to yet another fan you looked up to greet the next person in line. Your mouth fell open in shock at the sight presented to you. There was your stalker, still with mask but at least he was there. You almost didn’t believe your eyes.

He mustered you with curious eyes, scanning your whole body before he looked into your eyes again. He put your (!) book on the table, one of his signature red roses used as a bookmark. You gulped before you opened the book at the marked page. You almost let out a laugh at the scene. It was the scene where the male main character confessed his love to the female main character. Afterwards followed a very unholy spicy scene. Was he suggesting something?

he took the book out of your hand, his fingers brushing yours. They were cold from what you could tell, and you had to keep yourself from taking his hands in yours and warming them. He flipped to the front page where you would normally place your signature.

But instead of an empty page there was a note.

You look so pretty, sitting there and signing your books. I’m watching you, always. No matter where you are no one will ever get to have you except from me. Thank God, there are almost no male fans of yours, I’d hate to get my hands dirty. Love, Z

He looked at you while you read the note, looking as relaced as ever while you were losing your shit. You didn’t know how to react or what to say. You didn’t have to wait long though, because he did the most unexpected thing you could have imagined.

“See you next time, little mouse.”, he whispered into your ear, having leaned slightly forward so you could feel his breath on your face. It’s a good thing you were sitting down right now, because you were sure that if you were standing your feet would have given in.

You had never heard his voice before, but now that you had you were addicted. It was deep, rich and he had said these few words with a little rasp that drove you insane. You had read about such voices in romance novels before, but you would have never deemed it possible to experience it.

You knew that this was a cliché, but he smelled so manly. His intoxicating scent a mix of tobacco, wood, and musk with a hint of leather. You knew this man was going to be the death of you.

He leaned back, took the book again and left the bookstore without looking back. The rose was still laying on the desk and you quickly put it into your bag before greeting the next fan. The rest of the signing went by in a blur because all you could think about was the voice of your mysterious stalker.

How were you supposed to keep on living a normal life knowing how his eyes looked, staring into yours, how his voice sounded like and how his breath fanned against your face so delicately. How were you supposed to life when all that you could think about was his smell and how much you would like it to cling to you and your bedsheets. After the book signing it was getting quieter again and you haven’t gotten something from him in a few days. You didn’t worry too much though, knowing he was probably strong enough to defend himself.

Upon hearing a knock on the door, you enter the hallway. You did not have to open the door, to see the package your stalker left you, as it lay on your side of the door. That was weird, he had never left you anything that was not roses. You could feel a shiver running down your spine at the thought of your stalker returning to you and entering your house without you noticing it.

As you hadn’t heard from your stalker in a few days, this was a highly anticipated package. You made a few steps towards the box and noticed a note on top of it. It read:

Well, if this isn’t my new doll. I’m definitely looking forward to playing with you, bunny. Don’t even try to hop away from me, you can’t get rid of me. I’ll see you around, but you won’t see me. Anonymous

Your blood ran cold as you realised what that message meant. You went to the kitchen, forgetting about the still unopened package. You opened one of your kitchen drawers, revealing a pile of about three dozen notes. They were all signed from your stalker with the same letter. Z

Your worst fear was now confirmed. You had a new stalker. The mysterious Anonymous did write about being excited for his ‘new doll’ and called you bunny, even though you knew Z always called you his little mouse.

You panicked. Where did Z go? Is he okay? Who is your new stalker? Who even is Z? What would happen next?

Suddenly you remembered the package that was still waiting for you to open it.

You went back to the door, nervous about what could be in it. You knelt down on the floor and slowly opened it. The box was quite big, but what lay inside wasn’t. A wave of nausea rolled over you at what lay in that box.

It was a pair of eyes.

Real, human eyes. They were beautiful, dark brown with specks of green in them, but this was not the right moment to think about these things. There was till blood on them, and their optic nerve was still hanging on them. It almost felt as if they were watching you.

You wanted to close the box again but found yourself being unable to do so. You were shocked by what you saw. Whose eyes where that?

But before you could close it, you saw another message.

Now that your lame excuse of a stalker is out of town, he sent this scumbag to do the job. But no one is worthy enough to look at you except for me. Don’t worry Zade is the next one on my list. Anonymous

You froze. Z stood for Zade? Your stalker name was Zade? You were shocked that you found it out like this. It was a beautiful name though and seemed to fit him quite well if your being honest.

Anyways, at the thought of him getting hurt, your blood ran cold. You cared more for him than you liked to admit and knowing you could do nothing to protect him made you feel useless.

Zade Meadows was currently in Washington, wrapping up some business and trying to get a few high politicians behind bars. He hated leaving you alone, but he couldn’t reveal himself to you completely yet and take you with him, so you had to stay home.

He didn’t tell you he was leaving but thought you would notice the lack of notes and roses. He couldn’t leave you completely alone though, so he sent one of his best men to look over you during his absence. René Bellucci. He made it clear that if René were to even think about you being anything more than a mission, he would take care of him himself.

The way the man gulped and nodded, Zade knew there was nothing to worry about. So, he commanded René to send him a daily report of what you were doing and if anything happened to you, he was to tell Zade immediately, no matter what time it was.

After he scared and instructed René he could attend his business trip in peace. But of course, it wouldn’t go like he planned. He was able to get all the congressmen and politicians he wanted behind bars for now, but before he could enjoy his victory, he wanted to check on you.

He took out the burner phone that was specifically for these updates and turned it on. But to his surprise there were no new notifications. The update should have come about an hour ago, so a delay was out of question.

His heartbeat picked up. He immediately called René to see what was going on, but he immediately got to his voice mail.

Something was very wrong.

He took out his secret laptop to check on the cameras he (not so) secretly installed in your house. He knew it was wrong, but so was everything he did when it came to you.

He opened the laptop and typed in the password to access the camera feed. And there you were.

He let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding at seeing you safe and sound. But when he looked a bit closer, he could see how shaken you were. He immediately turned on the microphones and listened to what you were saying.

“This- This can’t be. Fuck, what am I supposed to do now? Where is he?”, he almost couldn’t hear you because you were whispering these things to yourself. His muscles were taut as he tried to find out what was wrong.

Zade currently watched you through the life feed, where he couldn’t see anything suspi- Wait, was that a package? He quickly went to the feed of your hall and zoomed in. The package was closed but it seemed like you already opened it, so he went to see what had happened in the minutes before.

He rewound the recording and saw you taking a note to the kitchen. You read it quietly to yourself, but it was still loud enough for Zade to hear it. His blood started boiling at what he heard. A new stalker? Definitely not. The celebrations for today where cancelled.

The recording kept on going and he saw you return to the package. You knelt down and opened it, revealing a pair of eyes? What the fuck? Again, he could hear your small voice reading the letter.

Oh oh.

That weren’t just any eyes. That were Renés eyes. Fuck.

How could that have happened? He should have known that such a beautiful woman wouldn’t be alone for long. Still, he always thought that he would stalk you and maybe in the long run reveal himself and claim you as his. But he wouldn’t have thought it possible that someone else was suddenly trying to take his place in such an extreme way.

Rage overcame him as he thought about this other man watching you and entering your house. He had to get to you. As fast as possible. Now.

He left his things behind, asking his assistant to pack them and take them with her when she went back the next day. He jumped in the car, roared the motor to life and drove like his life depended on it. And it did. You were his life and without you he had no reason to live.

Honestly, you were scared. You didn’t know what to do with the eyes, neither did you know what to do with the knowledge of having a new stalker.

Suddenly you heard something. It was an old house, so you often heard weird noises, but this noise didn’t come from nowhere. There was someone in your house. You were scared. You didn’t know what to do but wait for another indication of the intruder.

You heard a floorboard creaking, this time way closer to you. You took out a big kitchen knife, holding it with both hands and bracing yourself for what was to come.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your heartbeat loud in your ear. You could have fainted from the suspense. You prayed that this was Z or Zade in your house and not this new guy.

Why were you such a stalker magnet?

You didn’t know what to do. You could hear the footsteps clearer now, knowing that that meant they were coming closer. You had closed the door behind you when you re-entered the kitchen, so you couldn’t see the person behind it. But maybe that was for the better.

Suddenly the footsteps stopped behind the door. It was silent except for your heavy breaths. You could see the doorknob turning and the door being opened. You looked at the intruder in disbelief, dropping the knife in shock.

Zade had never driven this fast and reckless in his life. The only thing that mattered to him right now was that you were safe. He didn’t know what was happening right now at your house, but he would soon find out.

The fact that he didn’t know what was happening stressed him even more. He couldn’t even call René, because he was dead. He almost forgot about that. Though he was glad that the man didn’t have any family waiting for him at home. To be honest, most of the people that worked for him didn’t belong anywhere else, and he was always glad he could give them a home.

But he had to concentrate on 1) getting as fast to you as possible 2) driving carefully so he didn’t injure someone else or even himself, though he would have tried to get you even if he had been shot in the chest 3) distracting himself from the images of you getting hurt by someone other than him, that were currently going through his mind.

He was pressing down on the gas pedal as hard as he could, not caring at the people honking at him. The only thing that mattered to him right now was you.

You were still standing frozen in place in the middle of the kitchen.

You were standing face to face with a man that was definitely not Zade. He was slightly smaller, both of his eyes were dark brown, reminding you of the eyes that lay just a few meters away still in the box, but the one thing that you noticed right away was the lack of scar.

Zade had a beautiful scar that ran over his eye, giving his look a dangerous edge. But this man did not look like that at all.

And that could only mean one thing. That was your new stalker. Well, it could also be a random man who wanted to rob you, but due to the circumstances you ruled that one out.

“Well, if that isn’t my new bunny.”, the mysterious man told you, revealing a significant part of his identity. And yup, that was definitely your new stalker.

You turned around and started running. You just ran deeper into the house, but you knew it so well by now that you could find your away around it blind. After a moment you heard a second pair of footsteps echoing through the house, meaning the man was now trying to catch you.

You had dreamed of this moment before, your stalker running after you, chasing you through the halls and rooms you knew so well. But you imagined Z chasing you. You felt like you could trust Z, but you couldn’t be sure of the man currently running after you.

Your mind was going even faster than your feet, trying to find a way out of the house and into freedom, but it seemed almost impossible to achieve.

You almost didn’t hear it over the volume of your thoughts, but the second pair of feet had stopped. You did now the same, catching your breath and trying to think of your next move. You were almost at the door and if you were lucky, you could just slip out, jump in the car, and drive as fast as you could. But of course, it wasn’t that easy.

You felt a pair of hands gripping your waist pulling you back and against a hard chest. Before a scream could escape you, a hand covered your mouth.

“Gotcha, bunny!”, you could hear him whispering in your ear. You let out a scared whimper that was immediately muffled by his hand.

He grabbed your waist a bit rougher, pulling you into a small closet, that had blinds on their door, making it possible to look out of it but impossible to see inside. You had an ugly idea where this was going.

“Your little boyfriend is probably already on his way here. It feels like it didn’t take him long to figure out that I killed his little henchman.”, he told you with a grin evident in his voice, before adding, “I sent you his eyes, bunny. I hoped you liked your present. Did you like it bunny?”

You only whimpered at his question, now feeling the barrel of a gun against you instead of the hand that was gripping your waist.

The thought of Z being on his way to you and possibly saving you made your heart skip a beat. But you couldn’t trust your heart right now because it could also be out of rhythm because of the gun that was currently pointed at you.

He pulled it away for a second and kicked you in the knee. The action made you unsteady for a second but that was enough to get a hold of both of your arms and tying them together with a rope. He put his hand over your lips again before you could hear the sound of a zipper.

He pressed his hips against your ass, and you could feel something hard pressing against you that was definitely not the gun.

He leaned down to your ear again, his breath brushing unpleasantly against your skin.

“Your little boyfriend is going to come in here any moment and you’re not going to make a single noise while I rape that little pussy of yours. I’m going to pump you full of my seed, so you’ll be stuck with me forever.”, he let out a dark chuckle before pressing against you again. You could feel that he freed his dick from his pants and was now humping against your ass, that was still dressed in the jeans you wore from the day.

Like he had predicted it you could suddenly hear tires squeaking against the road and a car halting abruptly. You heard the car door opening and closing and rapid footsteps coming closer and closer.

“Be quiet for me, bunny. Let him search for you while I mark you as mine.”, he warned you before you heard banging against the door.

“Little mouse? Can you hear me? Are you alright?”, you heard a muffled voice through the door before the banging continued.

“Not a single sound.”, the man behind you reminded you.

The banging continued before it abruptly stopped. What was happening? Did he leave you now that you needed him the most? You heard him walking away and open a car door. You heard it close again and thought he would leave you alone now. Alone to fend for yourself against a man that you had no chance against.

But suddenly you heard footsteps on the front porch again. Could it be possible that he opened the trunk to get something? And really, you could hear a kind of metallic banging before the door gave in and came crashing down.

You could see someone enter and when he turned to the closet you could see his face. It was Z. He came to save you.

Theres nothing you’d rather do than scream out and tell him where you are. He was so close, but because he could not look inside of the closet he was also so far away.

Since he came into view you had been holding your breath. You were starting to feel a little bit lightheaded, so you breathed in through your nose.

Zade stopped for a second and looked into your direction, being under the impression he heard someone breathing. He quickly turned away again, seeing nothing but the walk-in closet.

He went into the kitchen and calling out your name, but to no avail. He couldn’t find you.

You had to be home, he saw your car in the driveway and there were none of the shoes missing. He stepped on the package while he was in the hallway. Not that he was in the kitchen and saw the notes, picking them up and reading them again. He could feel the blood boiling under his skin, the urge to murder this mysterious man was growing by the second.

How fucking dare he?

He started running through the house, calling your name, frantically searching for any sign that you could be alive. He went back to the kitchen where he noticed something.

There was a knife on the floor. How did it get there. The drawer where you have taken the knife out of, was still half opened. Did the guy break into your house and you wanted to defend yourself? Now he was really fucking scared about what could have happened to you. He just hoped you were still alive. If not, his hands would be drenched with that scumbag’s blood by the end of the night.

You saw him re-enter the kitchen after he went around the house and screamed you name, sounding more desperate by the minute. Your kidnapper was still humping against you and unbeknownst to you was thinking of a way to remove your trousers without making any noise or removing his hands from you.

You were panicking, tears streaming down your face, waiting for something to happen. After Z went into the kitchen, he went quiet, which made you even more nervous. What were you supposed to do? What would happen if he would leave? What would happen if he thought you were not here anymore?

Would you get raped by a stranger and because of that maybe even get abandoned by the man you grew to love? You could feel the frustration of never really getting to know him, even though he practically knew everything about you.

You could do nothing but wait, trapped in a closet with a gun held to your body.

Suddenly you could hear a drawer being closed and steps coming closer. Zade was now standing in your hallway again, looking around. He made a tempestive step to the closet before halting abruptly. He seemed to think for a second, though his expression remained unreadable.

He made another step forward, now standing directly in front of the door. If he listened closely, he could hear your laboured breathing.

He knew you were behind that door. The only problem was that he didn’t know if you were alone. You probably weren’t but he had to think about the possible outcomes.

If you were alone, you would probably recognize him and let him take you to a safe house where you were safe until he killed that bastard that threatened him.

But if you weren’t alone, he had to get you away so he could kill that asshole. That’s unfortunately not as easy as he thought though, because he was probably not that stupid. Of course, he wasn’t intelligent either because that man messed with what’s his. You.

He had to admit, he was scared. If that man was armed, he could risk hurting you. He could of course wait until his team arrived – that he called before he drove to your house like a maniac – but that could potentially be too late.

He decided on a plan: he would open the door, if you were standing directly in front of you, he would pull you out of there, throw you to the side and attack ‘A’. If you weren’t standing directly in front of it, he would pull out the other guy, lock you into the closet and then fight ‘A’.

He took a deep breath and opened the door. What happened after, went by like a flash.

He saw that you were standing there and yanked you out by your sweater, throwing you to the side as gentle as he could. He took his knife out – he forgot he also had a gun in another pocket – and stabbed the man in front of him in the stomach.

He didn’t see that he was holding a gun, so when Zade stabbed him, a shot went lose, making you scream.

Zade pulled out the knife and his opponent collapsed to the floor.

Snapping out of it, he left the small space to look after you. He didn’t know if you screamed out of shock or if the bullet hit you.

You were standing there, white as a sheet, looking at him in horror.

“Are you alright? Did the bullet hit you?”, he asked you so fast, you almost didn’t register the question.

“No- No, it didn’t hit me.” At your words, Zade let out a sigh of relief.

He went back to the closet, taking a closer look at the man. He didn’t seem to know him, but at the sight of his small dick that was exposed he wanted to do unspeakable things to him. Did that fucking asshole really try to rape you?

Zade had to take a few deep breaths to not kill him on the spot. He was going to have his fun with him later, but now there was something more important that he had to take care of. You.

You were still standing in the hallway, shocked at what happened. You were almost raped and kidnapped, you had seen Zade without a mask for the first time because he saved you from getting raped/kidnapped. You felt like you were about to throw up and pass out.

You heard someone calling your name and saw that it was Zade who was standing in front of you, while people who you had never seen before were suddenly inside of your house.

“Let’s go to the kitchen huh, little mouse?” You could only nod, still in a kind of haze from what happened just moments before. You didn’t know how Zade could be so collected after what happened.

He sat you on the kitchen counter before telling you to stay there for a second.

“Scream if you need anything. I’m just in the next room. I’m not leaving, little mouse.”, he told you before he left you alone with your thoughts.

Zade went to his team, instructing them on what to do with the unconscious man. He was going to take care of him later. Then he told them to clean up, leave and then find out who that bastard was. He knew they wouldn’t ask questions and he had never been this thankful for that. After they left, he went back into the kitchen.

The shock of your new stalker being dead and seeing Zade’s complete face for the first time slowly wore off. You felt a weird kind of relief at the two events, your heartbeat slowing down to somewhat normal again.

You looked into Zade’s eyes, realising that this is the first time you really saw him. Without a mask and without a filter it was just him. You could imagine him so easily, writing the letters, watching you, lusting over you. Did he even think about you that way or was it all jut a game for him? Playing this cat and mouse game with you?

You didn’t want to ask him directly though, fearing his answer. You were still sitting on the kitchen counter while he was pacing the kitchen. Neither of you said anything.

He came to a halt in front of you and stepped between your opening legs, grabbing your hands, and holding them behind your back. He was able to hold them with only one of his hands once they were behind you, so he wrapped his free hand around your throat, not pressing yet.

He just looked into your eyes for a moment, giving you the perfect opportunity to gaze into his. You saw the difference between his two eyes, but until now you never saw the mesmerizing beauty in them. His pupil was delated, and, in his eyes, you could see hunger, lust, but also the bloodlust that still lingered.

As you tried to lean forward, he tightened his hand around you neck, making it impossible for you to move. He leaned forward, almost giving you the relief, you earned for, your lips almost brushing.

“Tell me what you want, little mouse. Tell me and if you ask nicely, maybe I’ll give it to you.” You could feel every word against your lips, not even registering he waited for a reply. You direct your gaze back from his lips to his eyes.

You thought about it for a second. What did you want? Well, if was clear that you wanted him, but how? Just physically or do you want to be in a relationship with him? Both of you knew that there was a lot to talk about, but you settled on one answer for now.

“I want you to touch me. I want you to fuck me, to wreck me, to ruin me. I want you to make me yours, Zade.”, you have never said something that felt so right. At saying his name, you could feel a growl against your lips.

“Please, Zade.”, you whispered against his lips, before they finally met yours.

You’ve always imagined what it felt like to kiss him, now actually doing it felt surreal. He kissed with purpose, like he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. And it felt fucking amazing. You soon found the perfect rhythm. You ached to touch him, but he still held your hands.

You tried to pull your head away from him, but to no avail. He was having a tight grip on you and at feeling your resistance only gripped tighter and deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth, earning a needy moan from you.

He pulls away to breath for a moment, thinking about his next move. Meanwhile, you had time to stammer out “Please let me touch you.”

He was looking at you, thinking about it for a moment. “Say it”, he told you, “Say my name.”

“Please Zade, let me touch you, let me feel you.”, you said before trying to lean forward again. He loosened his hold on you, letting you lean forward and start kissing his neck.

He let go of your hands and pressed himself against you, pressing his growing bulge against your clothed cunt. You let your hands roam his hard muscles and over his arms while you kept on kissing his neck. You could hear his breathing getting laboured and silent moans rolling over his lips here and there.

He quickly grew impatient with your teasing and took your face into his hands, indulging you into a passionate kiss again. Your lips moved against each other like they were made for each other, falling back into rhythm almost immediately.

But Zade knew the first time with you would definitely not happen on a kitchen counter, still he was too impatient to move the two of you to the bedroom, so he improvised.

He put his hands on your hips and picked you up like you were a bag of feathers. You quickly wrapped your hand around his neck, not breaking the kiss once during the move.

He pulled out one of the chairs and took a seat, before placing you on the kitchen table. He broke the kiss, pressing your torso down and spreading your legs so he was face to face with your pussy.

You were still wearing the clothes from before, a relaces off the shoulder jumper with a pair of mom jeans which accentuated your ass very nicely. Even though in Zade’s eyes you looked good in everything, he thought you looked even better with nothing on.

He was too impatient to properly undress you, so he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out the knife from earlier.

“Remember this, little mouse?”, he asked in an almost mocking way before standing up. You gasped at the sight of the knife that had just moments ago brought a man to his knees. He leaned over you and started to cut open your clothing, grazing the cold tip of the knife against your warm skin with every slit, making goosebumps rise all over your body and wetness pooling between your thighs.

The awareness of how easy it would be for him to slice through your skin was dizzying. And he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He carefully sliced open your jumper, before moving down your body to your jeans.

He opened your fly before starting to slice down right in the middle of it, looking almost scary while doing so. You could see how he got lost in the moment. After slicing down your front, he sliced down the legs of your jeans. Your clothing was falling to the side and only your underwear remained.

He looked at you like you were the first women he ever saw in his life. You didn’t wear anything special, hell your bra and panties didn’t even match the slightest, but you still looked like the finest five course meal to him.

He just stood there for a few moments admiring you. The curve of your breasts, the valley of your stomach, the way your thighs pressed together. He knew that from this day on he was the only one who’s going to see that perfect body of yours.

He put the knife on the table for a moment to grope your breasts with both hands, giving them a good squeeze. You let out a loud moan which only seemed to spur him more on. He squeezed harder, almost crossing the line between pain and pleasure. He massaged your breasts a bit more, before putting his hands on your waist and giving your still clothed boobs a few kisses. The feeling of his hot breath against you was definitely doing something to you.

He pulled down the cups of the bra, peppering soft kisses over your now naked breasts, even leaving a few hickeys here and there. He pulled away and straightened up, taking the knife back into his hands.

He sliced open your bra before caressing your skin with the blade again. He took his time with it, waiting to see how you react to every movement of him, staying a bit longer at the places where your breath hitches or you let one of your delicious sounding moans slip. He was getting more and more aroused by the second.

After he decided he tortured enough (for now), he took the knife to your panties and sliced right through them, earning a gasp from you.

He took a seat at the table, grabbed your legs, and pulled you to the edge, before throwing them over his shoulder.

He started to kiss along your thighs, leaving the place where you needed him most untouched. He left a few hickeys along your thighs before finally coming closer to your glistening pussy. He admired you mostly in silence so far but couldn’t keep quiet anymore at the sight that you have presented him with.

“What made you so wet huh, little mouse? Was it my kisses, my caresses, my knife gliding along your skin or the sight of me killing that fucker who thought he was better than me? Tell me, be a good girl for me?”, his words aroused you even more. You couldn’t even answer him, taking too long to process his question in the haze you were in.

“Answer me when I ask you something, little mouse.”, he told you more demanding now.

“Every- Everything.”, you managed to stammer out. “Everything about you turns me on. You- fuck you make me so wet.”

“Already this dumb? I didn’t even play with that sweet little pussy yet. How are you going to react when I fuck you until you are unconscious on my cock, huh little mouse?”, he asked you in mock concern before chuckling. You could do nothing but moan at his filthy words. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, waiting to be filled by the man in front of you.

He decided to have some mercy on you and went back to your cunt. His warm breath against you let a shiver run down your spine. He placed a few wet open mouth kisses to your cunt, receiving needy moans from you.

Finally, he licked a long stripe down your pussy before caressing your clit with tight circles, making you cry out his name. His name on your lips seemed to spur him on even more, as he entered your tight hole with one of his fingers, pumping into you at a steady rhythm.

It all felt so good, almost too good. Finally having the relief, you earned for since that very first letter. He was moving against you like it was the thing he was destined to be doing. You had never felt like this with another man, and you were sure that smug bastard new that.e waHe

He slowly added another finger, making your back arch. You were coming dangerously close to the edge.

Zade could feel your pussy clenching around his fingers. He knew you needed that relief, but he wasn’t going to give it to you just yet. When he knew you were right on the edge, he pulled out his fingers and removed his head from in-between your legs. You whined at the loss, a tear rolling down your reddened cheek.

“Please, Zade. I need you. I was so close. Fuck.”, you almost sobbed out.

“You really thought I’ll just let you orgasm? I wouldn’t have thought you were that naïve, little mouse.”, he spoke to you again in a mocking voice.

You leaned up on your shaking hands to look into his eyes, when another tear rolled down your cheek. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, little mouse. You’ll get you relief and it’ll be the best orgasm you ever had.”, he assured you with a dark edge in his tone.

He gripped your waist and lifted you up, pressing your naked body against his still clothed one. You quickly wrapped your shaky legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, peppering kisses along his jawline and face.

He carried you to your bedroom. Of course, he knew exactly where it was, having placed quite a few notes there in the past. He put you on the floor, steadying your waist in case your legs wouldn’t hold you. He suddenly looked very serious. “Little mouse, do you trust me?”

He could see the hesitation in your eyes. Of course, you trusted him, especially after he almost killed someone for you. But there was still some doubt in you, especially about his feelings for you. You didn’t even realise you hadn’t answered him.

“What do you want me to do to prove to you that you can trust me? Do you want me to kneel in front of you? Because I’ll go on my fucking knees for you, if that’s what it takes, little mouse. I promise you can trust me.”

At the thought of this powerful man on his knees in front of you, you felt another flood of wetness rush between your thighs. Even though you still didn’t know how he felt about you, you felt a little more comfortable.

“Yes, Zade”, you answered him “I trust you.”

That was all it took. He removed his hands from your waist and put one of them on your shoulder, pressing you down so you were on your knees in front of him.

“Take out my cock little mouse.”, he commanded before adding, “and then put your hands behind your back.”

You immediately got to work. You opened his belt, not bothering to pull it out, letting the belt buckle hang to the side. You opened the button and then pulled down the zipper, grazing Zade’s hard dick and making him moan. You put your hand into his boxers and pulled out his rock-hard cock.

He was huge, probably about 10 inches long and thick. Your mouth watered at the thought of tasting him and feeling him inside you. That dick was definitely going to stretch you to your limits. You could see a drop of precum escaping the tip, running along his thick shaft.

You looked up at Zade who was looking at you with a hunger you had never seen at anyone.

“No need to be shy, little mouse. Be a good girl for daddy and suck my cock.”

You leaned forward, your hands behind your back, and took his tip into your mouth, gently sucking it. You could taste his sweet precum, making you moan. You swirled your tongue around his tip before slowly taking him deeper, tracing his prominent veins with your tongue.

Zade was growling above you, mesmerized by the sight of you sucking his cock. It felt so good, finally feeling you around his length after he imagined it for so long. He came so hard thinking about you in this exact position and now having you there, bobbing along his cock felt unreal.

You were going up and down on him now, struggling to take him completely. Zade thought that you had enough time to explore him now. He put his hand on the back of your head and started to fuck your face. He started off slowly but then started fucking your face like it had seriously wronged him.

You were gagging on his cock, tears streaming down your face while you could just sit there and take it. Zade’s face was twisted with please, sinful moans falling from his perfect lips. He cupped your face with his free hand, not slowing his pace. He built a steady rhythm, using your mouth and throat the way he liked.

You could feel yourself getting wetter at the sounds he was making. Knowing that you were the one bringing him so much pleasure turned you on to no end. You were moaning around his cock, making shivers run down your spine.

“You’re such a good girl for me. You take my cock so well, so pretty in front of my knees, drooling and crying. I could fuck your beautiful face forever.” His words were bringing you closer to the edge, but you resisted coming. You knew he was close to, feeling his length twitch in your mouth. You wanted to make him cum, so you started to move your head against his length, giving him everything you had.

“That’s it, little mouse. You feel so good, I’m so close. I know you want it too, want to swallow all my cum. Go on, touch that needy pussy. I want you to cum, chocking on my cock with your hands inside that cunt. Do it.”, he ordered. leaving no room for discussion. You immediately removed your hands from behind your back and started touching yourself, playing with your clit and pumping in and out of you with two fingers. It didn’t feel as good as Zade, but it was enough to send you close to the edge.

“Cum now, little mouse. Be a good girl and I’ll fill you with my cum.” His words sent you over the edge. You chocked on his cock while cumming, sending him over the edge. he spurted his cum down your throat, not halting his movements until he had stopped.

He pulled out of your mouth, admiring your face. Tears streaming down your face, smudging your mascara. Drool running down your chin, your cheeks were red. He had never seen someone who looked that beautiful. He gave you a few moments to catch your breath and waited for you to look at him again. When he saw that stunning little smile on your face, he knew he could continue.

He hoisted you up by the arms and threw you onto the bed, earning a surprised yelp from you. Your legs spread automatically for him, and he admired your glistening pussy before undressing himself. He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled down his pants and stepped out of him.

Now that he was just in his boxers you had some time to admire him. He was built like a Greek god, taut muscles everywhere and his cock, now erect again, stood tall and reached his belly button without effort. He looked even better than you imagined.

Zade saw you starring and cockily flexed his muscles for you, turning around and showing you his muscular back, making you giggle. It was good that his back was turned to you, because your giggle made his face soften. He never thought he would hear you genuinely laugh because of him, but here you were.

He turned around again and rid himself of his boxers, before climbing on top of you, covering your body with his. He leaned down and kissed you with a passion that wasn’t there before. The kiss grew heated quite fast, and you could feel his hard cock against your thigh.

You pulled away. “Please fuck me, Zade. Ruin me, make me yours.”, you almost begged as you spread your legs further.

Zade gladly fulfilled your wish and put one of his hands next to your head for leverage and used the other one to guide his cock to your entrance.

He aligned his fat tip with your gaping hole and entered you in one swift motion. You screamed out at the feeling of him stretching you out. The moment he was fully inside of you, Zade’s hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing you.

He didn’t give you much time to adjust to his size but bottomed out completely before filling you up again. He started to thrust into you at a relentless paste, using you like a fuck toy.

You loved it.

Admittedly, it was a lot but it also felt so good. He fucked you hard, the hand around your neck, cutting off some of your oxygen only made it so much more pleasurable.

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around my cock, my good girl. I can feel you squeezing me every time I’m tightening my grip around that pretty neck. Is that what you wanted, little mouse when you told me to use you? To ruin you?”

“Y- Yes.”, you breathed out.

“Yes, what?”, he asked you with that cocky grin reappearing on his face. “Y- Yes, daddy.”, you answered him before letting out another moan at the way he talked to you.

“Good girl”, he praised you before tightening his grip and fucking you harder. He leaned down and kissed you breathless, tasting himself on your tongue.

You could feel his thrusts getting sloppy and the heat in your belly growing. You knew you were both close.

“P- Please.”, you stammered out. He loosened the grip on your neck for a moment. “Please what, little mouse?”

“Please cum in me, daddy. Please, I want to cum with you.”, you begged, more tears falling from your eyes.

“Such a good girl asking permission to cum. Cum with me, little mouse. I want to feel you milking my cock. I want to pump you full of my cum. Cum for me. Now.”

His words sent you over the edge. He tightened his grip around your throat, and you screamed out, your pussy clenching around his length. He came with a shout of your name but didn’t halt his movements.

You could feel him spurting thick ropes of cum into your pussy, fucking his cum deeper inside of you. He didn’t stop until the both of you had come down. He came to a halt inside of you, removing his hand from your neck, admiring the already forming bruise in the shape of his hand.

He reluctantly pulled out of you, watching his cum drip out of you. He pushed some of it back inside of you with his fingers, penetrating your already overstimulated pussy. He placed one last kiss on your clit before getting up from the bed and putting on his boxers again.

For a moment you feared that he would get dressed again and leave you alone. That he would maybe go back to just stalking you, but you relaxed again when he went to the bathroom. He reappeared with a damp cloth and body lotion.

He cleaned you up, being careful not to be too harsh on you. Then he took some of the lotion and started to massage your body. He started with your neck, where he applied some of the cream over your bruises and then worked along your body, relieving your stress. He looked concentrated as he worked his skilled hands over your body and made you feel the safest you ever had been.

After you slightly came back to yourself, he stopped massaging you and looked into your eyes with a feeling you couldn’t really place.

“Are you alight, little mouse?”, he asked.

“Yea- Yeah, I’m fine, more than fine actually.”, you answered with a hoarse voice, already feeling the effect of your rough fucking.

“If I am being honest with you, I imagined my first time fucking you a little bit different. And under of course under different circumstances.” His confession made you smile, though that smile faltered again after a moment. Zade looked at you concerned and was about to ask you if you were alright before you asked with a small voice.

“Are you going to leave me now?” The expression on your face made Zade’s heart break a little. His face grew cold again before he answered.

“I’m never going to leave you, little mouse. You’re mine now. Forever”

a/n: thank you for reading, i hope you liked it! please leave some notes: likes, reblogs and comments. feedback is always ver appreciated! please also consider supporting me on ao3 @ softestqueeen

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa

#haunting adeline #hunting adeline #reader #x reader #reader insert #zade meadows #dark romance #murder #stalking #booktok #ao3 #underrated book #no y/n #love #z #z x reader

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ronearoundblindly · 7 months ago

Note

For the dirty A-Z headcanon game can I get an A for Steve Rogers?

From this ask game, and I love you to the end of the line, anon, because this is pretty much THE one I wanted to answer...

A - Alone Time

How does he get off when all by himself?

Does he watch porn?

Is it all in his imagination?

Does he jerk off?

Does he use toys?

In case it wasn't obvious... MINORS DNI (vaguely coded to be gender neutral for the possibility of steve x reader or stucky or whatever your flavor)

Here we go, babes. I know I've written several different versions of Steve in various universes, but this is gonna be more generalized and not involve the very specific background experiences I've written into other things. This is just my good ol' fashioned headcanon of Steve masturbating!

This man takes his time--or at least would prefer to--even when it's just him. He will gently touch/play with himself for a while before grabbing his dick. Grazing his nails over his thighs. Pinching his nipples. I think this dude really has a thing with his throat? Like he thinks about teeth along his neck or being pulled forward by it and, yes, a squeeze or two. Don't flame me, I'm just saying!

He craves foreplay, is what I mean, and I don't think Steve feels fully aroused unless more than just his genitals are involved in the act, ya know?

He watches porn, but only for examples. There's a whole lot in modern pornography that is a huge turn-off for him. Steve uses certain imagery or sounds/sayings that he found in porn and kinda edits them together for his pleasure later--like mentally edits, lord knows, because that man would not get the hang of Final Cut Pro OR iMovie, feel me?--plus that way he can imagine a certain someone's voice actually saying those things to him or doing them to him.

Which brings us to Steve's imagination which is unbelievably vivid and runs rampant. Think about it: he's a strategist. He has to see tons of possible scenarios play out all at once, analyze where that leads and where that leaves him, and then plan to thwart or redirect all that happens into an ideal outcome. Don't tell me that artist does not have an incredible mind's eye.

Then we get to Steve finally touching himself expressly to come.

He's toyed with himself for a while, maybe gotten close but held back, probably enjoyed finding friction not with his fist. For some reason, I thoroughly believe he has a thing for fabrics? This guy enjoys the glide of silk and satin. I bet his sheets are nice and slick so he can thrust against them a little and think of a pretty skirt or a dressy, formal glove.

Actual toys? Like the kind advertised as sex toys? Like the kind he'd have to purchase with money in some capacity? No. I think shy Steve hasn't figured out a way to discreetly (and by that I mean, untraceably) do that. He refuses to use anything online attached to his name--credit card or secondary/digital wallet whatever--to buy something or to tell someone what he would want them to buy for him because then that person would know! He'd keel over from embarrassment right then and there!! ARE YOU INSANE?!?!

No. What Steve will do is get seemingly useful things for innocuous reasons and play dumb blond if anyone ever insinuates it could be a sex toy. That man can and will absolutely lie like a champ to keep those secrets. That man is a super soldier but his muscles still get sore; that's what the massager is for, not his taint, nuh-uh no how. How dare you ask him!

Which brings us to the climax: his climax.

Steve prefers to finish in the shower. He's spent all that time enjoying the feel of his hands or various textures, the dry (but not painful) drag of everything before the slick lubrication of lotion or conditioner creates a welcome high under the spray of water, and then, yes, he can clean himself right off afterward. Highly efficient. Also very effective at training his brain to get off quickly in a shower if necessary.

Strategy, you guys, it's all about strategy.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Are my answers to these like an audition for the Shameless Hoe Club? Maybe. Or maybe Ro has just lost the ability to filter herself...or care 🤭

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#ro answers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #stucky fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #ask game #steve rogers smut #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america smut

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eggroll-sama · 8 months ago

Text

Touchstarved Love Interest on a Hike

You and the touchstarved gang go on a forest hike. What could possibly go wrong? (I know this is really OOC, realistically they wouldn’t go on a hike together because the drama is crazy, but hey, it’s fun to imagine)

AIS

Doesn’t say much, but is enjoying the quality time. He lets the others take the reins because he trusts them.

Looks good wearing a T-shirt and shorts and lots of passersby check him out. Leander is not pleased.

The most physically built out of the five and doesn’t break a sweat even on the steep areas.

Can probably carry all the backpacks and still be fine, but won’t offer unless you beg him what a dick. Oh you want me to carry some of your stuff? No. Why? I don’t want to. In the end he would carry them for you.

(More characters under the cut)

Very unprepared. He just wore casual clothes and hiking shoes. Asking Kuras every 10 minutes if he can get a sip of his water or use his sunscreen.

Shows that he cares about the others when he slows his pace to match the slowest person in the group. It’s Vere. He listens to his complaining.

Looking out for any signs of danger.

Won’t take any pictures on the hike. If you try to take a picture with him he’ll either smile wickedly or lick your face for a reaction.

He’d get hungry and eats a poisonous mushroom even after Mhin pointed out that it was poisonous. Shrugs and throws away the mushroom cuz there was no flavor.

When he reaches the destination, he’d be impressed by the view and peacefully sit while drinking some oolong tea. Vere stole it from a hiker and gave it to him. How kind of him.

KURAS

Kuras likes to wander and discover new places so he said yes. He wasn’t pleased there would be other members Vere joining them. He tries to hide his distaste and focuses on the trail.

Is taken in by the nature and how the sun casts light between the trees and making a beautiful scenery. When a cool breeze passes and his hair flutters, it almost looks like their a forest fairy.

He brought extra water because he knew there would be somebody that would forget.

If he noticed you’re tired, he’d suggest that they’d take a break. Also brought a First Aid Kit if there was an accident. He’s a doctor; it would be embarrassing if he didn’t bring one.

The most elegant hiker. It’s very peculiar seeing him hiking because it looks like he’s gliding. He doesn’t break a sweat and has an amused look on his face the entire time. What is he thinking?

Walks beside Mhin and listens to them talking about random biology facts. Is very interested in what they have to say and will even point out at herbs as they pass by them.

Ignores Vere who keeps making backhanded comments about him from behind. Will keep quiet about a ditch, root, or a spider up ahead. Smiles when he hears Vere scream behind him.

He’d probably come back again by himself or with one extra person, either Mhin or MC.

LEANDER

99% chance that this whole thing was his idea. He’s an active guy and likes to spend time with others. He’d probably done the hike a number of times before.

The one leading. He’s prepared and has all the basic necessities, even things you wouldn’t think of. He caters to your needs the most. If you ask if anyone has x y and z, he’d be the first to offer it. He wants to be relied on and show he’s a competent man!

Acts as the “trail leader” of the group. Has a map in hand.

He whistles when he isn’t talking.

Highly susceptible to bug bites.

Notices that the group is functioning in pairs, Mhin with Kuras and Vere with Ais. He’d feel like a third wheel and will talk to you the most. Will get mopey if you talk to somebody else. If you notice he’s been quiet, join him at the front and talk to him and he’d be overwhelmed with joy.

Puts on a lot of deodorant and the others try not to cringe at the smell. Mhin or Vere would point it out and he’d laugh, but he’s dying inside.

Gets competitive when a bunch of hikers giggle to themselves over Ais. Oh wow is it getting hot out here, let me just take off my shirt and show off my sculpted abs. Ais knows exactly what he’s doing and side-eyes him.

When he reaches the destination, he tries to makes a speech about how proud he is of everyone and yada yada, nobody is listening and doing their own thing. He’s distraught. At least the view is nice.

MHIN

Doesn’t like anyone there except for Kuras and MC (Leander is tolerable).

Gets fed up really quickly with Vere’s complaining and Leander’s nonsensical chatter.

The one covered up the most because they get easily sunburnt.

Brought a gallon full of ice cold water and would not share.

Surprisingly agile and has high endurance.

Super unlucky, would step on the weirdest sh*t on the hike.

Enjoys the wildlife around them. Points out at things they’ve read in books. Will get really deep into it if you reciprocate the interest.

Keeping track of the map because they don’t trust Leander. Has caught him going the wrong direction a few times.

Looking out for danger #2.

Munches on plain crackers when they get hungry and looks like a hamster. If you point it out you’ll get stabbed.

Once at the destination, they try to find a souvenir rock. If you ask them what they’re doing they’ll shoo you away. If you give them a nice rock you found, they’d carefully analyze it before thanking you with a small blush.

VERE

He is not happy to be here. And he will make it clear from the very start.

High chance that he said yes cuz Ais was going.

Can’t stand listening to Kuras and Mhin being nerds and Leander talking about the time he almost got married to a middle-aged nun. HUH?! HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THAT-

Complains and super snarky at the very beginning, but gradually starts to quieten down due to fatigue.

Stealing stuff from fellow hikers just for the heck of it.

The best dressed hiker. Many people are in awe how sexy he looks. And yes, he made one of his admirers buy it for him. He will wear it once and then throw it away.

Sweat gives him that natural glow :0

Vere WON’T forget about the sunscreen and bug spray. He won’t let a hike ruin his skin for the rest of the week.

Does not look out for danger, IS the danger.

Rare sight of Vere with a high ponytail. Ais grabs him by the pony tail when he wants his attention.

Once he reaches the site, he’s going to take a quick nap under a shade. You can join him, but be wary.

#touchstarved game #touchstarved #touchstarved leander #touchstarved mhin #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved Ais #touchstarved Vere #ts ais #ts vere #ts mhin #ts kuras #ts leander #touchstarved headcanons #Ais headcanons #Vere headcanon #Leander headcanon #Mhin headcanon #Ais headcanon #Kuras headcanon

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rukia-writes · 12 days ago

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So, eh, not sure if requests are open (if not feel free to ignore this!) but after reading that Hades and Poseidon bicep worship Reader...well, you know, Zeus has nice biceps too, you can't blame a nymph!Reader for appreciating them a little, right...? *springs away from an annoyed Hera*

Nymph! Reader x young! Zeus

Zeus has terrific biceps actually ✨🎀

Zeus.

The new ruler of the heavens after his recent victory in the Titanomachy Tournament and took his father's position as Chief God.

Before the Gigantomachy, Zeus had a time of peace and quiet.

More precise, Zeus had a nymph in his castle that was personal massage therapist. The two met before Zeus became ruler of the heavens, saving her from a lustful serpent.

Punching the serpent miles and miles away, all while smiling and flexing his muscles in a heroic way of course.

The flexing of his biceps didn’t go unnoticed by the nymph and now for many years since then she serves as Zeus personal massage therapist.

Ruling the heavens is a stressful job, after all.

The nymph could always tell when Zeus was on the way, as the place would always shake when he was on the way. Hopping on one foot then the other with a smile on his face.

Busting through the doors Zeus made his presence known.

“Hi, (Y/N)! I’m here!”

Smiling a big smile while posing in victory while flexing with right arm in the air and left arm on his hips.

Almost as if he knew his massage therapist had a crush on his muscles.

“Welcome, lord Zeus-“

“You can just call me Zeus. We’ve been over this, many times.”

Laying down the massage table on his table with his face on his hand while his other hand was on his hip, all the giving her a kissy face and his tone was his usual flirty voice.

All this made the nymph’s heart a skip beat and her face felt a bit hot.

“Well, Zeus. Just lay down like you always do-“

“And you’ll give me the best rub down in all of Valhalla! Well, go ahead my sweet (Y/N)! Rub away until your hearts content!”

As always, Zeus laid down on his stomach and took the sash part of his clothing off and happily awaited (Y/N)’s fingers touching back, shoulders and biceps.

Smiling, (Y/N) began massaging Zeus’ back with massage oil, kneading the oil into his skin and making sure all the tension was expelled. (Y/N) started with gentle, circular motions and gradually increased the pressure making Zeus moan as he felt amazing.

This was the norm for Zeus and (Y/N) would always ask questions on how he felt which was always a short “Yes” or “Absolutely love.” Whatever he replied with it was always Zeus enjoying himself. Finally, (Y/N) managed to massage Zeus biceps, her favorite part on Zeus’ body.

Zeus biceps were well toned and definitely lived up to the standard of the king of the heavens. The more (Y/N) felt of Zeus’ bicep the more her heart began to pound. Of course, there were others who had well toned muscles and biceps, such as Poseidon, Hades, and maybe Adamas. But to (Y/N), Zeus’ biceps and muscles were perfect.

As the nymph’s hands glided across Zeus’ bicep she felt her face get hotter and hotter. Zeus had was half asleep and half awake, and Zeus was somewhat aware (Y/N) liked his biceps.

Well, of course she did! Zeus was the strongest after all.

If one was to ask Zeus he had better muscles than his brothers combined.

To Zeus, however. That didn’t matter as long as his nymph was okay, so was he.

Twenty minutes later, Zeus was awakened by (Y/N) waking him up to let him it was time for him to bathe.

“Already?!”

“Well, you did fall asleep.”

While stretching Zeus had an idea.

“You take a bathe with me.”

Before (Name) could protest Zeus made it an order that they were to bathe together in the hot spring. Adding in, that he wanted her to rub his arm some more.

Well, that was all Zeus had to say the nymph as she gladly wrapped her arm around his toned bicep and the two walked into the hot spring together with (Name) getting to hold and rub Zeus’ biceps to her hearts content.

While Zeus had (Y/N) all to himself.

🎃 Rukia-Writes 🎃

#shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #record of ragnarok x reader

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agendabymooner · 9 months ago

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SOMETHING POSSESSIVE !!! CARLOS S. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: carlos didn't need any reassurance especially when she wasn't going to be getting away from his grasp sooner or later.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni), use of explicit language, toxic-esque relationship, possessive!mean dom!carlos, double penetration + anal play, degrading, oral (m receiving) + face fucking/deep throat, impact play, brief breath play, dacryphilia

note: idk what i wrote dawg I'M SORRY 😭 enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

carlos, with all his suave and his talent, was a secured man.

he knew that. in fact, he couldn’t find himself to care what people may think about his driving skills, or what he’s wearing, let alone his relationship status.

but there were times when some things were slowly slipping away from his grasp. in those instances, he had to hold on tight and even pull them back where he had them.

one of those times was during his p1 celebration. carlos turned away for a brief second to exchange pleasantries with the partygoers who approached him, thanking them and telling them to enjoy the party.

but as soon as he turned back, she was gone. she was leaning over the bar counter as she patiently waited for her drink to be filled up. no— she wasn’t just waiting, she was giggling at whatever the hell lando was telling her. lando wasn’t even that funny, carlos said.

the more carlos stared, the more his anger grew.

he should be blaming himself for not paying attention to her for a whole month straight, really. the woman asked for his undivided attention even if it’s just for an hour, yet he never gave her that.

he could be blaming himself right now, with his face drenched in sweat after dancing for too long and his face red in anger and jealousy, but he chose not to head that route.

instead he decided that she should’ve behaved herself even if she had to wait for him.

carlos towered over her, his chiseled body bare and his cock hardened as he looked down at her with a mocking pitiful expression.

her knees were burning as she knelt down on the carpeted floor of their hotel room, her body practically shaking in anticipation. she had nothing on, her arousal dripping out of her as continued to look up at him with a pleading look.

yeah, carlos scoffed, as if that’d work this time.

carlos’ face gave her a go ahead— as if she already knew what to do.

her mouth gaped open and she stuck her tongue out, allowing carlos to push his cock into her mouth. she forced herself to keep her hands on her back, her tongue swirling on the tip of his cock.

her mouth on his length elicited a moan out of carlos, his hands now grabbing her head by the roots. he increased his pace and moved deeper, the tip of his cock now resting at the back of her throat as she felt all of him in her mouth.

“mi pequeña y buena puta,” my good little whore. carlos muttered quietly, hearing her breathe through her nose despite the tip of it grazing his skin. “ojalá lo supieras mejor.” i wish you knew better.

she couldn’t even utter a word, her words stuck on her throat with his cock shoving them back down. her eyes were watering as she looked up at carlos, who looked down at her once more with a smug expression.

“can’t take it anymore, bonita?” carlos cooed mockingly, making her shake her head while she continued to get her mouth fucked.

carlos pulled her mouth away from his length, making her gasp. he chuckled quietly, “good because i’m gonna make sure you know who you fucking belong to. on the bed.”

in a typical day, she’d be stubborn enough to resist and roll her eyes at him. but she knew exactly what she had done to piss him off like this and she knew better than testing him, and so she obliged and went to the bed on all fours.

it didn’t take long for carlos to get around and kneel on the mattress, his hand gliding down her soaked cunt as she shivered from his touch.

“who told you to act like that?” carlos asked her firmly, his voice low and his fingers slowly prodding her cunt.

she didn’t utter a word, instead she bit her lip as she didn’t want to displease him anymore than she did earlier.

he was growing frustrated from her silence. he didn’t have that much patience for her sudden quietness, especially when her behaviour was loud enough to defy and make carlos jealous.

she let out a loud whimper when he struck a blow to her cunt, her clit sending aroused and pained signals to her brain.

“who?” carlos still didn’t get any answer. he slapped her cunt continuously, each slap was rougher than the last as she cried out.

she was unable to let out a word, her brain was getting too fuzzy from each strike and each derogatory word that escaped carlos’ tone. some sinful parts of her wanted to be treated like this after a whole month of not being taken care of by the ferrari driver. that’s why she behaved like she wasn’t his back there.

by the tenth time, he pulled his hand away and watched her cunt throb around nothing.

“still nothing?” carlos asked despite the fact that he’s not expecting any more answers from her.

she couldn’t even remember hearing him move around as she was already entering her hazy state. she was keeping her composure, yet despite all of those attempts she was driven away by his cock as he entered her fully without a warning.

she cried out, “fuck!” her knuckles were turning white as she gripped the sheets beneath her. carlos thrusted hard, pounding her like he was stating his frustrations to her.

“you love this don’t you?” carlos growled lowly, his one hand gripping her hips while the other collected her arousal and slid two fingers in her back hole. his cock entered her cunt at the same pace as his two fingers, penetrating her until she couldn’t handle it anymore.

“did you really think i won’t punish you for behaving like a slut?” carlos asked her, making her shake her head insistently as she cried and sobbed. tears fell down her cheeks as she felt immense pleasure from his continuous fucking. “ah, so you did it because you know i’ll be punishing you?”

“if you wanted some reminder of who owns you then you could have just asked me, bonita,” carlos crooned mockingly, his hand that gripped her hips pulled her up by the throat. he pulled her body closer, her back on his chest while he continued fucking both her holes.

he squeezed her throat and released the pressure. he muttered in her ear, “what would everybody think if they found out that you like to be treated like a whore when i don’t give you attention, hm?”

her mouth let out nothing but incoherent words, feeling her walls clenching around him as she whined pitifully.

“they can see it already, bebe,” he whispered, nipping at her ear as she gasped loudly.

“so fucking tight and good for me,” carlos continued, “whose pussy is this?”

her mouth gaped open as she tried to utter something. carlos squeezed her throat, restricting her airflow as she cried out, “yours, carlos, fuck! yours!”

“yeah?” carlos whispered heatedly, now increasing his pace as he chased her high and his. “these holes are mine, yes? no one else’s?”

“yes- hah- fuck, yes ‘m yours,” she babbled, her voice pleading with him as her walls clenched around him.

he let out a loud grunt as his thrusts slowed, his cock still sliding in and out of her hard as both of them reached their high. her walls milked his cock, painting her insides white with his load as her legs trembled and gave up.

she knew that if she simply asked for his attention, he wouldn’t give it— he’d make some promise that he wasn’t going to follow through and he’d forget about it.

perhaps it was a great idea to remind him that some things were meant to slip out of his grasp, and that he should continue holding onto it tightly. otherwise, she wouldn’t be fucked out as she wished to be.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015

♡ moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness

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kartificialdreams · 8 months ago

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Doctor

Honestly, I didn’t even know how I ended up in this position. One minute I’m being reprimanded by my doctor about how I need to stop stressing my heart out. The next we’re sharing a heated kiss, sitting on his desk, fingers locked in his hair and hoping it doesn’t end.

He starts kissing down my neck, his hands gliding up and down my waist. I press myself further into him, not wanting any space between us.

“This probably isn’t helping to relaxing your heart.” I hear him mumble, his voice vibrating through my neck and a chill runs through me.

“Why don’t we check doctor?”

My fingers clumsily patting around to find his stethoscope. Instead of handing it to him I place then in his ears and hold it to my heart.

“Mm, just as I thought, an accelerated heartbeat. Should we calm it?” He smirks.

Whether he’s joking or not I don’t want to. Not when everything I want is right in front of me. Especially not when after all these years everything I’ve held back is spilling out. I whisper a quick ��no’ before connecting our lips again.

“We have to be quick, I have a surgery in 30 minutes. Shouldn’t be a problem, I am quite skilled.” He smirks as he quickly pulls my skirt up, panties moved to the side.

I help free him from his belt, finally getting to what I want the most. Finally seeing his dick, I moan at the thought of it filling me up. Guess it’s true what they say, it’s always the tall quiet ones. He aligns himself with me, a groan leaving him.

“Zayne, please. Don’t tease, not now.” I whine, kissing his neck.

“I got you, just be patient my love.” The term of endearment does more to me than I’m willing to let on.

Finally, the sensation of being filled floods my senses. Immediately I roll my eyes back, falling back on his desk as he slowly thrusts.

“Fuck, Zayne. Feels so good.”

I feel his hand wrap around my throat, pulling me back to him.

“I want you as close as possible.”

His thrust pick up speed, I squeeze around him causing a soft ‘fuck’ to fall from him. His string hands hold me in place as I unbutton his shirt, and start kissing his chest. His hand moves further down, thumb catching my clit and slowly moves in a ‘Z’ motion. Pants and groans can be heard through the room, though I guess it’s a good thing his walls aren’t thin.

“Fuck you’re a dream, never thought I’d see the day I get to fuck you.” He kisses me, a somewhat messy and passionate kiss. “Do you know how many times I thought about you, about this exact fantasy? I’ve craved you for so long.”

His words send pleasure coursing through my being. I latch on to him tighter, my release vastly approaching.

“I do, I’ve had the same thoughts. All the times we spent together. Only you.”

He groans, “say it again, that it’s only me.”

“Only you, Zayne, always you.” My pants now turning into desperate whines as I feel my orgasm ready to burst.

“Gonna cum, you’re squeezing me so nicely, let it out. Give it to me.” He kisses me, mouth shutting any loud cries up.

I cum, biting his lip as I do. A few more thrusts and Zayne empties himself in me, groans leaving him. His beautiful eyes stare lovingly into mine. He kisses me passionately, his hands cradling my face as he does. Cloud 9 doesn’t begin to describe how I feel.

“Doctor? Your patient is prepped and ready when you are!” Comes a nurses voice.

“I’ll be there shortly.”

Zayne pulls out, whines leaving us as he does so. He starts to dress himself in new clothes.

“I have to go now but wait for me at your place. I’ll make dinner, most importantly…” he leans down to my ear, “I’ll show you just how loudly I can make you scream my name.”

Those words reignite the fire inside me.

“I’ll hold you to it, Doctor.”

#love and deepspace #lads #zayne love and deepspace #zayne smut #love & deepspace #lads zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne #lnd zayne #l&ds zayne #dr zayne

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konigbabe · 2 years ago

Text

keep it quiet

Pairing: ID!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader | single dad AU

Word count: 2.2k

Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; single dad Leon; breath play; p-in-v sex; praise kink; top!leon; blowjobs; slight face-fucking; female gendered anatomy

Summary: Just single dad Leon fucking you in the janitor's closet during class.

a/n: Canon ID!Leon is around 29 but Leon in this '"universe" is aged up to be in his 30s (age won't be specified but I imagine him to be in his mid-to-late 30s).

Written as part of my A to Z kinks game. Q is for a quickie.

series masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

The pungent smell of bleach hangs heavy in the air, biting your nose with every breath you take; tangling with the bright citrus notes of Leon's cologne, a potent blend of bergamot and lemon. The two scents mingle and dance, a waltz of sharp and sweet.

It’s an unexpected combination. One that should’ve clashed, yet somehow they complement each other.

Your mind tries to process the conflicting sensations, but it’s a futile effort when every sense is consumed by the man behind you and the way his hips keep pistoning into you.

Sharp, short thrusts.

Each one driving his cock deeper into your body.

Angled so that the head of his cock kisses your cervix every time. With a fervor that steals your breath. Baths you in liquid fire.

Each thrust like a battering ram, slamming into you with a force that threatens to tear you apart.

Somehow, you find yourself holding on, clinging to the nearby shelf, like it’s the only thing keeping you anchored to this world. Knuckles straining, fingers curling over the smooth surface, a rush of heat courses through your veins as Leon's grip tightens ever so slightly.

"Fuck, Leon–"

Your whine tapers off, replaced by a deep, purring hum of satisfaction as Leon’s hand encircles your throat; exerting a gentle but firm grip that pulls you closer to him. Chin nestled on the base of your shoulder, his teeth glide across the tender underside of your ear.

A tingle starts at the nape of your neck and courses through your body, like a sparkling river of sensation.

The fluorescent light above flickers intermittently, casting a ghostly and eerie glow over the confined space. The hum of the light like a faint melody.

The grip on your hips dissipates; Leon’s other arm moves upwards. His palm hovers before your lips, the tip of his middle finger tracing the underside of your lip; heartbeat picking up.

"Open up fo’ me."

And you oblige. Without a second wasted, two of his fingers find their way into your mouth. Pressing against the wet muscle, teasing your tongue and coaxing it into action; hooking behind your teeth, you manage to swirl your tongue around the fingertips.

"That’s it–jus’ like that," his words come in a low, gravelly murmur. Dripping in satisfaction. Followed by a brush of his lips against the delicate shell of your ear. "Good girl."

His words flood your body with heat; every nerve alights. His voice a velvet caress. A balm to your soul. A sweet validation.

Nudging your legs further apart with his boot, you suck at his fingers one by one; giving each a secluded attention. Leon’s breath hitches when your tongue laps at the tip of his index finger; the weight of his forehead rests on the crown of your shoulder, lips parting in a gasp of pleasure.

It makes you moan, makes you quiver around him, akin to the flutter of a butterfly's wings.

Pushing your hips backwards, you meet the sharp plane of his pelvis as his fingers withdraw; a wet string smudged over your lower lip. Slickness coats your tongue, leaving a tangy taste in your mouth.

Leon's fingers sneak under the hunched material of your skirt, tracing a wet path over the exposed flesh of your thighs. His thumb lingers at the apex, applying just enough pressure to make you shiver, attempting to bite back a moan.

Lost in the sea of sensations that threaten to consume you.

The rough pads of his fingers find your clit; the pulsating nub throbs beneath his touch. It's as if a live wire is coursing through your body, electrifying every nerve ending. Leon’s fingers move in rhythm with his thrusts–

"Leon–fuck, don’t stop–Leon–"

Words mingle together. Mind too foggy. Too fucked up to comprehend a single sentence.

-the pressure enough to send you spiralling; making your breath come in ragged gasps, quiet mewls as his fingers dance over your sensitive flesh, drawing out every last drop of pleasure.

A sweet ache coils in your belly, radiating outwards.

Both hands gripping a shelf on each side of the narrow closet, you feel like a marionette. Completely at his mercy. The wood creaks under your grasp, protesting the force of your grip. But you can't help it; the pleasure’s too intense, too all-consuming.

Leon's fingers work their magic; teasing and coaxing your body to the brink of orgasm. Each stroke and brush causing your walls to flutter, squeeze him delightfully; making his hips quake with every movement.

The heat between your legs intensifies, the wetness pooling and spilling over onto his cock. His thumb circles your clit, drawing it out and flicking it back in a rhythmic motion that has you on the edge.

Body like a coiled spring, wound tight and ready to snap, your hips push back.

Until the squeeze of his fingers on the side of your throat fades while leaving behind a warmth that lingers on your skin–

Every touch, every stroke, every kiss a building block, adding to the fire that’s burning inside you.

–and is replaced by a hand covering your mouth, stifling a sound that begins to surge from the depths of your being.

In a natural reaction, one of your hands shoots towards the intrusion, fingers wrapping around Leon’s wrist, feeling the cool material of his watch.

You moan when Leon’s hips still. Pelvis flush against the curve of your ass, buried to the brim, as if he's trying to meld his body with yours. His breath ghosts over your nape.

Footsteps echo through the door. Two sets of heels clicking against the polished concrete floor. You both freeze, bodies still tangled together in the cramped space.

You should be panicking, being seen like that. But the fire in your belly refuses to be quenched; your body a bundle of nerves, the thrill of excitement at the thought of being caught mingling with the heady rush of pleasure that Leon is coaxing from you. It's a dangerous game, one that sets your heart racing and your skin ablaze with need.

You’re sure they’ll hear the frantic thumping of your heart, the ragged gasps of breath that escape your lips.

Leon's grip on your jaw tightens, grounding you in the moment, urging you to focus only on the pleasure that he's giving you.

Instead, a whimper slips from your mouth, muffled by Leon’s hand when you feel the slow, deliberate slide of his cock out of your dripping wetness. Moving in slow motion as he withdraws, teasing you with just the tip of his throbbing cock still nestled inside you.

Every nerve in your body alive with anticipation, yearning for the moment when he will plunge back inside you, filling you up completely. You can feel the wetness coating his cock, and the slickness of your own desire as it clings to him, urging him to come back to you.

Your body’s a symphony of sensations, each note building on the last until it crescendos into a symphony of pleasure.

"Shhh," the short stubble grazes your cheek as he murmurs, leisurely drawing his cock back inside your slick heat; the footsteps grow louder, "wouldn’t want your fellow teachers seein’ you gettin’ stuffed by my cock in the janitor’s closet, would you?"

As Leon's hand exerts a gentle force on your parted lips, your head falls back, coming to rest on the sharp, angular edge of his clavicle. Capable of feeling every inch of him as he moves languidly within you, each thrust slow and deliberate, savoring the squeeze of your cunt on him.

Leon’s words, accompanied by a steady slide of his cock, capable of feeling every inch of him; it makes your core throb; your walls to tighten, emitting a gentle moan from the man behind you.

"You’re making noises too," you mumble, the words barely coherent in the midst of your ecstasy. Consumed by the heat of his body against yours, the scent of his mixed with the musky aroma of sex. The sound of his ragged breaths, guttural grunts and gentle moans of your name.

The rhythmic motion of his thrusts lulling you into a state of pure bliss.

"Can’t help it," his teeth graze your shoulder blade, "you just feel too good.." Emphasizing his words; Leon’s fingers pull from your aching nub before giving it a gentle slap. With a sudden shift, his hips deliver a sharp, forceful thrust, shattering the lazy rhythm he’d established earlier.

You inhale sharply at the unexpected sensation, but the burn of desire only intensifies.

Senses on overdrive, the footsteps pass. Leaving you and Leon alone again. It seems to drive him back deeper into you, his thrusts becoming more frenzied and urgent.

Leon’s fingers curl and stroke your clit, slow and steady, then faster, rougher, until—

Heat; A tidal wave of pleasure crashes over you, consuming every inch of your being. Your mind dissolves into a haze of pleasure, every nerve ending alight with ecstasy.

–a cry rips from your throat, echoing through the room. The tension snaps, leaving you panting, trembling, and utterly spent.

Cunt fluttering around Leon’s cock, his hands snap to grip your waist. His breathing’s heavy and ragged, matching the pace of his thrusts. He holds you close, his body flush against yours, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

"Fuck–’m gonna cum," his lips latch onto your pulsating jugular, feeling your violent heartbeat, "be good to me, get on your knees," he rasps, having a hard time formulating full sentences as the coil in his body tightens, threatening to unravel at any moment.

Hips snapping forward one last time, burying himself deep inside your leaking cunt, his breath hot against your skin before you obey.

A pathetic whine leaves your lips at the sudden emptiness when he pulls away, hands guiding you to turn around, putting pressure on your shoulders to make you sink down to your knees in front of him.

Jeans pushed down just enough to free himself, heat flushes your face at the sight of his cock, glistening with your cum. Not wasting time, your lips wrap around the spongy tip, tasting the salty tang of your own release mixed with the slightly sweet taste of his skin. Swirling around the sensitive head.

The taste floods your mouth. A heady mixture of musk and lust.

And you savor it. Like a rare delicacy.

"Fuck–look at you," Leon growls.

His eyes smolder with desire as he looks down at you, watching the way your lips stretch to accommodate him. A low, throaty moan of appreciation slips past his lips, his hand tightening in your hair as he urges you to take him deeper.

Eyes moving upwards, his chin is all you can see as he throws his head back, hand gripping the same shelf you were moments ago, knuckles white. The leather of his jacket creaks with the movement.

Coaxing out every drop of pleasure from his throbbing cock. The taste of him lingers in your mouth, a potent reminder of the pleasure you're bringing him.

Breathing becoming ragged, his body tenses under your hands.

Suddenly, his hips thrust forward with a sudden urgency that takes you by surprise. The head of his cock kisses the back of your throat for a second, causing you to lose your breath and withdraw as your gag reflex kicks in, eyes watering.

You can feel the wetness of your own saliva and his precum dribbling down your chin.

"Shit, sorry," he rumbles, eyes back on your kneeling form.

His gaze is glazed over with desire, and his hand moves from your hair to cup your cheek. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, smearing the slickness across your skin.

"S’okay," you reassure him with a soft smile, "you can do that; just tell me next time."

He nods as your fingers wrap around his base, taking him back in eagerly, taking him as deep as you can, feeling his thick length stretching your mouth to its limits.

This time, you’re ready; relaxing your throat, you let him set the pace. Feeling the pressure at the back of your head as he guides your face towards his cock.

With each drive, he plunges deeper into your mouth. His body taut like a bowstring, every muscle coiled tight. You can feel the tension emanating from him in waves, his arousal thick in the air between you.

His cock swells inside of your mouth, pulsing with each beat of his heart. You can taste his desire, a heady mix of salt and musk that fills your senses.

Tapping his thigh, he stops his movements as you glide your lips along his cock, hand moving in the same rhythm.

You pick up the pace, tongue and lips working in perfect unison to coax out every last drop of his pleasure.

With a deep grunt of your name, he convulses, his body wracked with spasms of ecstasy. Fingernails scratch your scalp as he spills into your mouth, and you savor the taste of him, swallowing each salty, hot drop eagerly.

As he comes down from his high, he looks down at you with a mixture of awe and gratitude in his eyes.

"That’s A plus, miss teacher," he whispers, voice husky, pulling you up to stand in front of him.

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hwaightme · 8 months ago

Text

Feel alive

(masterlist) (taglist)

🌑 pairing: strictland!seonghwa x gn!singer!reader 🌑 genre: fluff, angst, dystopian, sci-fi, noir, music, lovers to enemies to lovers �� summary: after escaping the confines of prestige academy you find yourself singing at 'morpheus' - an underground bar and club for strictland outcasts. except this reality, too, crumbles before you. your fate is again in the hands of the same man, and you are forced to ask yourself: what does it mean to 'feel alive'? 🌑 wordcount: 9.5k total 🌑 warnings/tags: semi-edited, authoritarian regime (strictland/z/universe z), lore-inspired, guns/gunshots, implied attack on club, implied violence, crime, alcohol/drinking, implied organised criminal networks, discussions about death/murder/execution, nihilism/existentialism, 'bout as dark as the diary entries, long lost lovers, starcrossed, hope, blue bird, jazz, uprisings 🌑 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🌑 a/n: noir hwa, ateez synthwave song quartet, and lore ponderings. hope you enjoyed <3 any notes, reblogs, comments, asks are always welcome! much love!

The lights dimmed, and it was as if the jazz bar never existed in the first place. The worn seats occupied by drunks who liked to pretend they had taste, sofas in the far corner reserved for big shots and well-established scum with pretty young accessories on either arm, the bar that sold everything under the rays of the dying sun and evil moon, it all disappeared with the dawn of the spotlight falling upon your alluring silhouette. A simple, yet elegant sleek black dress with a hint of shimmer that graced your curves seemed to shine in the glimmering illumination. The delicate silver accessories were stars in the hypnotising sky, the allure of an unreachable universe becoming overwhelming as your hands glided over the length of the microphone to find purchase on the stand. The music, starting from a low rumble, was an echo of the abyss surrounding you, manifested only at the softest inhale. After what could have been the drums and trumpet, or could have been the heavens announcing the beautiful singer’s presence finished their spontaneous introduction, Seonghwa had the pleasure of forgetting his purpose, at least for as long as the song lasted. He could drift into a sultry paradise, seduced by what had to be a siren’s call, and regard the customers of the Morpheus bar with something less than loathing.

As soon as he cleared the last of the russet coloured drink he had ordered in one gulp and set the glass down on the bar, shutting his eyes momentarily to focus on the warmth of the alcohol running down his throat, Seonghwa found the fingers of his right hand softly drumming out the song in accompaniment, each digit hitting one note, another, again and again. Back in the day, it had not been often that his visits to the bar occurred at the same time as the one and only Y/N’s performances, but when they did, he swore he could see the smog clear and tomorrow become a certainty. The music consumed him whole and even though he knew down to the second when the magic would be extinguished, a part of him still retained the hope that the spell would never be broken. Not when the only encore he could guarantee for himself was another torturous raid on an establishment such as this one, or another feverish witch hunt for those who had regained their ability to feel and to think freely. All in the name of a faceless leader who even Seonghwa himself had only met a handful of times despite being in a high ranking position of Guardian Inspector - above the standard white-clad machines, above the so-called officials clad in military uniform, he was in charge of ‘keeping civil hands clean’. At what cost? Perhaps his own emotions were the price.

The dark-haired man caught himself wondering how many people in this bar could enjoy themselves to the fullest. How many of these poor unfortunate souls that succumbed to the rush for easy money and easy love were true followers of hedonism, and were spending their days in an enviable bliss? Biting his lower lip, Seonghwa regarded his surroundings with a subtle scorn. He was well aware that he was to blame for it all too; The regime, to retain the ultimate, unwavering control over the citizens, even those who wholeheartedly believed they were well-hidden from the authoritarian judgement, was a supplier of one of the many pleasures after all - toying with people's weakness before the formidable seven sins only to lead them into full submission. The Strictland government, despite propagating ‘human emotion being a disease’ had anything anyone could ever desire, and Seonghwa was one of the many agents to guarantee long term partnerships, addiction to the illusion of a better life, and most importantly, stability and security for the people who had taken him in all that time ago when no one else would, and had given him a chance.

While he was the bringer of demise, the counter of profits drenched in crushing dread and the hand of twisted and subjective justice, at the same time, Seonghwa believed that it gave him all the more right to judge the society he was a part of. After all, he was not the one being fooled. Inevitably, his glimmering orbs settled back on the singer’s gently swaying form as they broke into the chorus, and nearly shuddered as your gaze, from languid, half-lidded but oh so appealing eyes, met his, only for a split second but it was as if hellfire itself embraced him and greeted him like an old lover. Each lyric - a personal address as you moved along at a sensual pace, the song smoother than the most expensive silk. He smirked to himself as he caught his ponderings accelerating uncontrollably, attempting to squash them under a sober, calculating fist. You were no fool either. An entertainer, measuring out each attack like a venomous serpent, not threatened, seeking fun in the reveal of vulnerability of your listeners - each one believed that you existed for them and them alone, and in the hypnotic state added bill after bill to their already hefty tips in the hopes that at least some would reach you, and you would give them that beautiful smile, maybe something more. Truly, a shame that the owner of Morpheus owed the regime a lot more than all the tips, so-called donations and what, compared to the rest of the money, was "honest" earnings all combined. The Captain of the Inspectors in charge of this little project had gotten a little too nice as of late, at least that was what Seonghwa had concluded, but it was not him who was going to pay for it, naturally.

Twisting his head, Seonghwa took note of the familiar faces that appeared at the entrance to Morpheus to join the rest of the Inspectors that were posing as regular customers, cleverly dispersed among the filth that reeked of dependence. Of course, dependence on what the regime was selling. There was no other way about it. Nodding the two men a curt hello, Seonghwa let his eyes trace back a swift path to the magnificent performance. He paid attention to how your dainty earrings glinted even in the lowered light, and how, with every subtle movement, he could see the gorgeous dress tighten just a little around your body. You were so out of place in this scene, an angel in the darkest pits of hell, a little bird struggling against the wiring of a cage, curling inwards, growing smaller until the last flutter of the wings. As he was caught up in admiring your beautiful style, grace, and listening to your sweet, warm tone, one of the two newcomers, a fellow brother in governmental salvation to Seonghwa, tapped him lightly on the shoulder and occupied the seat beside him.

“As flashy as ever, Woo. Might as well tattoo ‘trouble’ on your forehead,” he motioned towards his not so inconspicuous suit that made him look more like a mafioso rather than an average joe. Seonghwa had to admit, however, that the outfit looked too damn good on him, but this was going to be just one of those things he was to take to his grave. The man did not need his ego fed any more than what the ladies he finds as company for the less busy nights not hounded by the lower ranking Guardians provide.

“I’d carve a pretty smile on that face. Not even a hello?”

“Hi San,” Seonghwa deadpanned, looking past his friend who he noted had tied his hair into a low ponytail, and right at the other half of his duo. Wooyoung and San, two peas in a pod, and probably the last people one would ever wish to see if they were in trouble with any of the Inspectors.

“Aren’t you mean today… what, pretty star over there didn’t give you attention?” Wooyoung retorted with a smirk creeping onto his lips. With a raise of an eyebrow and a shake of the head, Seonghwa dismissed any thoughts of peace that he had been imagining, settling back to regular business.

Rolling his shoulders back, he let the scene come and envelop him. It was no coincidence that so many of the Inspectors had gathered, especially with Wooyoung and San now closing in the arrivals. It did not take a genius to guess that Captain had changed his terms, and this was no longer going to be an ordinary shakeout for money or customary information gathering from the owner of Morpheus. The owner had stalled for far too long, had strayed from ‘good practices’ of a loyal rat, and it was time to set an example for others. Disease was the human emotion, and this bar was a breeding ground for thought crime, was it not?. Lowly, lonely creatures who gathered here were all examples of where society had gone astray from the perfect vision Z had put forward, at least… most were. Those who had forgotten the meaning of feeling despite having regained the ability, those, to Seonghwa, were the true vermin. He regarded the few gathered who were most definitely not meant to be part of this story. A middle aged, haggard man with flushed cheeks and what had to be his fifth glass of the cheapest liquor on the menu. Some bigshot from another town who he recalled some of the Inspectors in charge of patrolling the area identifying this morning - no ties, no money, just a lot of ambition that was to amount to nothing. A few lowlives here and there who were faceless, in shades of grey. All not meant to be here, and yet by some stroke of fate, here they were to remain. Finally, he drifted back to the main act, still at the centre of the stage, the sole luminance among the tainted - those who had no hope in making Seonghwa feel anything but numbness. You were the only one working here. Earning your meagre pay - he had discreetly checked the bar’s balance books when the old man behind the counter was too distracted to care for a person of his kind strolling into his office that was concealed in a dark corridor. It was shameful how you were still in this far less than grand establishment, sharing your angelic vocals, despite obviously not having any compensation nor appreciation of your efforts. Perhaps the moments on stage were the only time when you felt alive; the thought would not leave Seonghwa. After much investigation playing pretend, he was confident in his conclusion: you had not changed.

You were on the tattered poster plastered up outside - the one and only, shows every Friday night. Perceive and behold the spectacular ethereal being as you sang songs that spun threads out of a spectator’s very soul, blood trickling from the cracks in their shattered form turning to gold. You sang their… his pain, promised him his glory, soothed and comforted him. Seonghwa was well aware that you were the sole reason that he had shifted his visits to Morpheus to this particular day of the week and monitored the illegal location so closely, otherwise, your face would never grace his corrupt, bleak vision. You did not deserve to go with the rest. When breaking free, one was not supposed to fall into another trap, and yet, here you were. You were not meant to be here, littering the ground that you stood on as the last of the gunpowder would settle on your perfect skin, your long, alluring eyelashes. The onyx-haired man felt a shift within himself as he mused the outcome of the unspoken plans - by the way in which Wooyoung leaned back onto the counter, a grin dancing on his features and by the way San was acting particularly kindhearted to the lonely staff who was rushing about, struggling to keep up with the visitors’ habits, he knew that tonight, they were not planning on hearing any cries for mercy. They were here to complete a mission for a higher purpose. And that mission was far from the sweet music which he had loved his whole life, and finally found again.

“They’re not supposed to be here.” he mumbled, his voice obscured by yours, echoing across and elevating to a sensual culmination.

“Aren’t we all? We’ve got to do what we’ve got to do. Think of them as a sculpture or something if it makes things easier,” Wooyoung took out a rolled up bill to put between his lips - a habit that he had formed after a few too many hits on the back of his head by San, an interesting approach to make a man quit smoking. He called it ‘smoking capitalism’, earning quite a few chuckles from the Inspectors, Seonghwa included.

“So say someone’s going to scope the ring to clean it up a bit, would you let them hit our favourite auntie?” he asked, referring to the friendly cleaner who was probably the only one in the entire city who did not bat an eye at the violent matches that Wooyoung managed under the wraps for the regime, instead cooing over the fighters he brokered for and giving the men an extra helping of her home-cooked delicacies. In many ways, she was a mother figure for the Guardian Inspectors, despite her being at risk, every day, of being taken to the Red Humans should one of them be in a ‘different kind of mood’ on an arbitrary morning.

“Definitely not. But this singer. Who are they to you?”

“A pawn.”

“A pawn?”

“Mhm. I can pawn them in for rewards.”

“Suppose they are pretty enough, if that’s what you’re thinking of…”

“Goodness, take the pimp out of the bordello but can’t take the bordello out of the pimp. That business was shut a while back for you, no?” with a groan, Seonghwa retaliated at Wooyoung’s rather out of pocket suggestions. Over the many years of serving Z in not so ethical ways, the man had tried on a few too many hats and seen a few too many hats to retain even a sliver of compassion towards anyone except those closest. It was understandable. Odd, but understandable.

“Kidding. But for real though, what’s the use?” Wooyoung bit down on the bill softly, gaze following San who had moved towards a couple of underlings that had gathered in a booth off to the side, towards the far corner of the bar. Clearly, he was checking if they had read the room.

“Say, isn’t it Captain’s niece’s birthday soon? We don’t exactly have a musical act to hand since…” Seonghwa trailed off, knowing that Wooyoung knew what incident he was referring to, involving an accusatory phrase, a short temper and a very professional shot from a sniper rifle from the boss’s office window into the temple of a figure that was storming away from one of the many Inspector accommodations. Another one to fertilise the soil with.

“Smart. I’ll give it to ya. If you sort the business out before showtime, pretty thing’s all yours.” Wooyoung responded, patting his side where, underneath his shirt, Seonghwa knew was a holstered pistol. Pushing himself away from the counter he stood up, adjusting his long, leather coat and glove. It was not that he had a particular preference, but ever since entering the new life upon being pardoned for feeling, a life where he had to say found a home, he could not help but wish to always look just that little bit more put together, even if only to appear loyal.

“Cheers. I’ll get them a nice candle-lit dinner to soften them up and then inform Cap’,” sounding purposefully sarcastic, Seonghwa mumbled under his nose, well aware that this was not a method that had ever been in use. One glower and curt phrase had always been enough - the rest was simply the heart’s doing masked by odd humour.

“Awh, look at you, how sweet and lovely. What a darling,” Wooyoung teased, sending Seonghwa a wink. The music was fading away, the last notes landing on his ears, marking every moment.

“One more word and you’ll be the main course.” with his index finger he poked the centre of his fellow Inspector’s chest in threat, maintaining a cold expression.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m going to be roasting out here tonight, so make it hot with pretty thing.”

“Filth,” the taller man spat, knowing that attempting to counter his friend was nearly impossible - out of all the people he knew only Captain could fully round him in, and even then Wooyoung had a smile on his face, much to Seonghwa’s confusion.

“It’s not me who is with the heart eyes.”

“I just saw an opportunity,” playing with the leather piece that buttoned up to protect his neck, he eyed you, waiting for you to finish. Unknown to you, you did not have much time left before your very life would be placed on a scale and thoughtlessly pushed to lose against the weight of usual Strictland business. Such was the violent, catastrophic illusion of order, such was the structure that had been Seonghwa’s twisted saving grace. He was going to be doing you a favour by taking you away, won’t he? Either way, you would be out of work, and he was helping you with a little job search from one of the highest payers - chivalrous and kind hearted, that was who he was. How else could the Inspectors form any partnerships and feast on forbidden fruit otherwise? Who was he kidding - a soul like you was not meant for a life like this. But he had to try. He needed time to think.

“Sure. Sure. An opportunity to grab the gorgeous star for yourself.”

“Oh shut up will you?” snapping, Seonghwa were desperately trying to cut the conversation short, seeing the window for him to make a beeline for the edge of the stage, towards which you promptly setting off after finishing your set, and receiving a dismal lack of applause - what else would he expect from the crowd gathered in Morpheus? Especially when the stench of iron and the final judgement was mere minutes away from materialising.

“You know that’s not my style.”

“Yeah, yeah. Be good. Hope you did not block my mustang,” throwing one last comment behind him, the solemn man was off, only barely catching Wooyoung’s half-hearted response.

“Have I ever…”

The mission was simple. Since he was dismissed from the less than pleasant task of wiping out the bar, considering that two more senior Inspectors had made their appearance and were clearly more in the know of what was brewing, Seonghwa had only a couple of minutes before all freedom would cease to exist. And then, no heaven could bestow mercy upon neither him, nor the beauty he had come here to save for no logical reason, instead relying on some hazy version of hope and nostalgia. He had parked his ink black ride around the block - out of sight for unwanted eyes, and perfectly positioned for getaways just like this. If you could catch the Inspector’s drift, that was. One could only pray that the dazzler on stage was just as dazzling when it came to reading between the lines. He had perhaps even less than the estimated time to explain himself before Wooyoung and San would call the owner over to get the real evening show started. Time was ticking along with the skyrocketing pace of his heart as he stopped you on your tracks with a slightly outstretched leg, only to move forward and cast a shadow over you.

It was difficult to remain level-headed when, even at such proximity, in the normally less than flattering lighting, you were nothing short of a deity. Something out of fairy tales, stories of royalty or angels in kingdoms far far away, those that were not supposed to exist. But here was one, staring right into his eyes with your beautiful expressive orbs, as deep as the history that Seonghwa had raced here to try and reignite. A universe in your irises, an all-consuming black hole in your pupils, beckoning Seonghwa, leading him into a stupor before he stuffed his hands into his pockets, bringing himself out of the momentary trance by force. Time was not on his side, and he knew that it would never be unless he kept on running.

“Lovely song, that was.”

“Indeed. ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ is one of my favourites. Did you enjoy the performance?” Your speaking voice was different, of course, but nonetheless struck that stunning familiar chord within Seonghwa, one that should never see the light of day if he were to remain how he had to be. It was terrifying, how he was ready to let go of his resurrected image as an Inspector for a chance to turn the past into the present.

You were polite. The features of your alluring face were hinting at a genuine interest, an appreciation of every movement, every breath you were taking. Though, in Seonghwa’s own line of work, particularly in the stage of undercover investigation, this was simply the usual. Show a smile, bat the eyelashes, make business, disappear. Genuine interest was an artform, but even if you were indeed expressing it in the way with which he was familiar, it felt so natural that he almost wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe this daydream who had come to change the colours of his occasional Fridays, his hunts for those straying from what Z had deemed ‘right’, leaving glimmers of memory to last him through the weeks when he had to be numb to life itself until he could come and see you again. It did not mean much to you, most likely. You were strangers in your respective new lives, and had Captain not made the decision to teach the owner of Morpheus a lethal lesson, you would have remained that way. Drifting together for a few hours, remaining distant, and drifting apart again. A forever flowing story that was to rekindle a starcrossed ‘once upon a time’ but never have that sought after resolution. A dream that reminded Seonghwa of why his unlikely survival was a blessing. As your eyes revealed a hopefulness, a plea for praise, Seonghwa gave you a soft smile.

“Of course.”

“I look forward to seeing you, you know.”

“O-oh?” Seonghwa could barely contain his surprise, the previously cool demeanour cracking into a raised eyebrow. Could you remember?

“Yes! You always sit at the bar, second stool from the left. And order… what is it… a brandy, right?”

He would be lying if he were to say he was not surprised by your suddenly chipper attitude. Almost like you were a kid who entered a candy shop for the first time to see all of your favourite treats, you excitedly revealed to Seonghwa your observations. While it was endearing to see, the shuffling behind him, along with the idea that he was not the only one intently observing left the Inspector with a sense of unease, nearly throwing him off from the initial goal that motivated him to brave talking to you in the first place.

“In…deed?”

The singer, who was previously an astounding yet distant figure captivating all who cared to look even once, rapidly transitioned into someone who he almost found endearing, the keeper of far too many qualities that cemented the rightness of his decision. You were not meant to be here, he repeated to himself. Mutters around the bar were getting louder, and as the rest of the musicians filed out of the main hall and crammed into a tiny room off to the side, in Seonghwa’s peripherals he noted San’s steady, seemingly innocent amble between the scuffed round tables and equally unpleasantly antique chairs.

“You are the only one who listens, so, how could I not notice? Actually, I wanted to talk to you properly, or at least say thank you but didn’t want to impose.”

As much as he wanted to sink into the warmth of your words and allow you to recognise him on your own accord, the rippling commotion that was finally rearing its ugly head spurred him on and struck his heart with an icy, calculating mace. He had a minute tops, knowing Wooyoung’s love for never counting down to zero before beginning.

“Well, let’s talk. Outside,” The black-clad man tried to walk off, aiming for the dark corridor at the end of which was the fire exit, but when you did not move, rolled his eyes.

“I was thinking I could buy you a drink-”

“Cute. Another time though,” seeing the tinge of disappointment in your gaze was new, and entirely unexpected, but gave Seonghwa plenty of leeway to sway you into following him, “since you watched me enough, I bet you can guess who I am. Or, what I do for work. Right?”

A steely glare, leaving nothing open to interpretation. For additional evidence, he demonstratively adjusted his coat, loosening the belt he had tied around his waist to reveal a leather holster, discreet, gun always within reach. Attentive to detail as ever, you took note of the inconspicuous design of the pistol before he let it disappear once again under the fabric - in this city, there were few who had access to any form of weaponry, the items being so highly regulated by the government that it was nearly impossible to purchase or get licensing. Your mind began to list off options; Seonghwa clearly was neither a standard Android Guardian due to the lack of mandatory uniform, nor a scruffy criminal whom you had gotten used to over the time that had passed, nor part of the police force, nor a Class 2 Prestige Academy student. It only left an answer that shook you to the core. Of course, it was not that you did not hold the assumption in your heart. As a matter of fact, you had previously assumed that you were used to greeting people from different walks of life, all gathered in the same place, at the same time for what you wanted to believe was a ‘good time’. That was what drove you to live the life that you were living. Exist in this space, despite your pay and your security almost always not being enough, but you would give even that up if that meant you could keep your freedom.

Seonghwa was effortlessly graceful, determined in every step and gesture, not a single movement wasted. In a sense, it was as if he had purposefully learned and memorised the most efficient adjustments of the body, letting himself metamorphose into a lithe, agile animal. It was terrific, and terrifying, how at any moment he could pounce, and you would never know when until it was too late. For this hint of a reason, you decided to follow the man’s unspoken command, only whispering an airy inquiry after the other musicians, which he coldly dismissed:

“You need a better band anyways.”

---

The gravity of the situation only began to settle in when the biting breeze outside of the stuffy bar hit you, seeking opportunity to tousle your locks. The strands that had managed to fall over your face were trembling, the only sign revealing your suppressed distress as the last of Morpheus's dusk-like illumination was shut from your vision with a confident slam. Your eyes widened as you watched the Inspector, or in other words, your personal grim reaper, flip a lock on the door - previously thought to be inaccessible to anyone except the owner, done so masterfully as though he were the one who had installed it in the first place. An exit, a saving grace for innocents inside, turned into a dead end - more symbolic than one would ever initially assume. He trailed up the length of his arm stopping for a moment at the material that covered his shoulder, listening to leather hit leather. Seonghwa could only find calculated resolve within himself. This was the usual for him, and that after weighing all the options, he had logically come to the conclusion that the demise of the people inside was indeed the most attractive option.

As you heard the first shot resound inside of Morpheus, you shuddered, but did not dare stop following the man in the trench coat as he strode on ahead, hands remaining in his pockets. To any onlooker it would seem that he was relaxed as ever, out for a late night walk in a neighbourhood he knew better than he knew himself. Breath in, breath out; you were trying to remind yourself of the simple act, focusing harder than you had ever done during your performances. Imagining your diaphragm stretching, letting the lungs take in as much air as possible and-

Another shot. Breath knocked from you, balance off kilter, you desperately wanted to run. Anywhere. Maybe you should have stayed, not picked up on the subtle offer of your life being spared. In that way you would not have to live with the guilt of not having said anything to your fellow bandmates, not having said thank you to the owner for… what was there to thank anyone for? Out of habit, you lifted a hand to brush over your ear, echoes of the time when you had first felt emotion rippling across your body, making you shiver. You were all fools misled by hope for a brighter tomorrow in a world that was permanently overcast. Where did this running lead you? Where did your wistful song guide you? Back into the arms of the apocalypse - broad-shouldered with hair the colour of ink, the last thing you would see before disappearing for good. At least you should thank your former so-called colleagues for the information about the common demise. Tears welled up in your eyes as you obeyed the lean man’s orders and practically toppled into the black vehicle parked by the Morpheus, a lonesome yelp masked by the gunfire and indecipherable orders.

You had no idea where he was taking you, and you did not dare ask. The man reminded you of all you had been trained to avoid in your new life, a threat, a weapon, a soldier. His gloved right hand remained resting beside the gearshift, while his left coldly gripped the steering wheel. Not a single one of his muscles appeared to be relaxed, and not a single movement had a semblance to anything natural. An automaton in the driver’s seat, you wanted to feel comforted by the idea that you were the only one truly human in the car, for the idea that someone as brutal as a Guardian Inspector could be conscious or decisive was too strong of an agony.

At the same time, in the moments where the Inspector turned his head to check the surroundings, you noted something familiar. He dashed past the blue, purple and aquamarine signs that lined the streets of the district you had learned to love, himself turning into a painting. Be it in the angles that formulated his stern face, or in the elegance that he was unable to conceal, the past crawled out of a long-forgotten cavern in your psyche and gnawed at your nerves, just out of reach of realisation. Perhaps in another time, you had known him. Perhaps in one of the banned art pieces, you had seen him. At the same time, this could not be the first Guardian Inspector you had encountered - they were all similar enough in demeanour, so what was another face? Equally as entitled, above the law. Above a runaway like you. You were vermin. The enemy. A traitor to the Academy, to Strictland, to Z himself. Or so you were told. The only thing that could be different about this Inspector, was that he could be your last.

A sharp stabbing sensation spread from your temples and what had to be through your skull, jabbing into bone and into the cerebellum. Nauseous, you shut your eyes and clutched your head in a futile attempt to seek some form of relief. The car roared, and a sudden stench of rubber and concrete penetrated through every crevice, choking your senses and making you taste the acrid pollution. One turn, another, your organs were being jolted back and forth as the monstrous engine urged on by none other than the embodiment of oblivion dragged the car across eternal misery of long-abandoned districts.

“Oh goodness…” a feeble whisper left your lips. You reached out to grab hold of the door handle, peering at the grooves to find at least something to focus on. His vision was swimming in your eyes, etchings of your surroundings morphing into repressed memories.

A boy marching beside you to class, head held at the angle commanded to all academy students. A young man, dressed in all white with black locks parted in the middle. A solemn stare, unreadable, though not fully blank as it should be. But at the same time, how could you, another student of Prestige, detect that something was not quite right? Since when could you feel? You lifted your head cautiously to try peeking at the Inspector again, but he was frozen. Only the abrupt tightening of his gloved hand around the steering wheel and a determined turn reminded you that he was not quite an automaton.

“I must be dreaming…” you blinked away a teary blur, and clenched onto your dress for the remainder of the journey, feverishly recounting whatever lyrics you could. Your little safe haven, your precious prayers to the arts - truth which you had discovered after abandoning everything you could have been.

Your hand moved on instinct to the side of your head, feeling for what once had been the hub of your consciousness. A chip that made you feel right at home, heartless, but with a purpose. Forty years of education, an eternity to serve something greater than you; clear goals, a mission for your generation and many that would come after you. Hand in hand, you were soldiers of a catastrophically closed-minded society; at the time, however, you could not be ‘happier’. Or rather, more numb. Because you did not know of negative nor positive, you could not experience either, and so remained in a stable equilibrium, just as the superpower of this forlorn land had instructed. Disease was the human emotion. You were ‘healthy’. Until that boy appeared in your life, and revealed himself to you.

Bright-eyed, hopeful, excited. So unlike anyone. And against better judgement, you let the inklings of curiosity drip over your heart, and the beginnings of affection take flight. Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, a smile brighter than the sun, a soothing mellifluous voice, vowing to you that you could build another life together. A life much more beautiful than one constructed with deception and hollow propaganda. What could a little tap of a breaker do to you? Apparently, it could change your destiny.

As you massaged your temples, you locked gazes with the man in front of you, but met the boy from your past in the mirror. That same worry, knotted eyebrows, concern and care so evident you could touch it if your fingers grazed his cheek. You could not move, even when he turned back to the road, and continued to stare at the rear view mirror in the hopes of seeing your daydream again. You had to be wrong. This had to be you hallucinating. You must be just… afraid. Out of your mind. And so you were recalling one of the few times when you thought the world could do you no harm.

“Get out,” a command. As cold as steel. The engine was still roaring in your ears, despite the surroundings having gone dead silent.

A click. The doors unlocked. You could run if you wanted to. Though you were fully aware that the action would shorten your lifespan to a mere few seconds. You remained seated, gaze falling onto your lap, and listened to the painful succession of sounds that led the man to open your door, and roughly grab your upper arm.

“I said, get out,” you followed him like a rag doll, knowing that any attempts to resist would put you into even more danger. At the same time, even though the Inspector was obviously attempting to instil terror and a twisted respect for him, he could not face you. Consciously he made an effort to barely raise his lashes, thus keeping his scrutiny concealed. Reading through his hesitation was easy enough.

He could not keep his hand on you for a second longer after you stood up straight, darting away as though you were an open flame. The man cleared his throat and locked the car, before gesturing towards an abandoned building that loomed over the gravelly opening where you had completed your journey. Comically, it reminded you of Prestige, even though the latter was of much larger proportions and possessed a more unique shape. Perhaps it was the fact that this block, what used to be an apartment building, was crumbling, made you think of the academy’s inner workings. Rotting away. The cogs in the machine tearing each other apart.

This might be your end or your beginning, you were not sure which one. With an astounding loyalty, you let yourself be guided into the long-forgotten cement fortress, up exposed stairs with metal railings, past walls left bare, illuminated by an exposed moonlight, laying down a carpet of silver. It was oddly easy to think that life was beautiful when it was likely going to be taken away from you. The walk was silent, and the longer it lasted, the more at peace you felt. The odd step rang out and echoed like the gunshots you had heard, so surreal that you could barely believe it. It must have been a joke. Fireworks, or someone just being a little boisterous. Morpheus had seen so many colours of Z’s regime, it could not disappear now… oh who were you kidding. It was done for. You little version of an escape. Your space to feel.

As you made sneaky glances at the Inspector to your right, who not so ceremoniously had loosened his coat’s belt once more to have easy access to his gun, you could not help but think of the boy. You had followed his advice, made a run for it while he had been taken away by the Red Humans. Two youngsters who betrayed the regime. But who was truly free? The one who had been exterminated, or the one who had to live in fear, but at least felt the ruthless emotion?

The enigmatic man slowed down, and so did you. He made a turn, so did you, acting as his shadow. You were certain that you were probably breathing at the same rate. An empty hallway, lined with equally empty rooms and destroyed apartments. From a humble abode to rubble, you could see the horrific vistas of the district, and the drop to the cold ground below. No wall, no security, no certainty. It was only you and your fate in the form of a man who seemed to possess too much of a likeness to the keeper of your fragile adoration.

The Inspector walked in front and turned to face you. You froze, burning under his scrutiny. Eyes like scalding cold ice, assessing you, condemning you. Your best listener, now listening to your terrified heart. For what could be the last time, you felt alive. As the man reached into his pocket, you prepared for the worst, however, he only motioned with his head for you to follow him. Confused, you obeyed, finding yourself in a more secluded corner of the floor, one which had remotely retained the appearance of an actual room. Stuck in the same few seconds, there were no further commands from the Inspector, causing your mind to wander, and lips to move on their own accord:

“I should not be here.”

“Neither should I,” he deadpanned, though his choice of words was unsettling. Wasn’t he on a mission?

“I should be dead,” you persisted.

“I should have more blood on my hands.”

A pause. You were in shock, pointlessly clinging onto your own upper arms, stuck in a false embrace. Like prey that had been cornered, you were beyond the point of trusting survival instincts. You simply wanted for the interaction, or dare you say, interrogation, to be over, so you could be given away to the Red Humans, to whatever the afterlife had to offer, in peace. If you were to be melted, then so be it. If your departure were to be short and sweet, so be it. But a little question in your head still remained, a persistent worm which you decided to unleash given your hopeless circumstances:

“Then why-”

“It is pointless to ask when there is no answer,” the man answered coldly, not sparing you a glance as he picked at a filthy off-white tulle which covered a blown out window - now just a frame, with his gloved hand, glaring at the pitiful greyness outside the abandoned building before wiping the hand off with a handkerchief produced out of the pocket into which he had stuffed his hand.

A few steps separated you, but you knew better than to try and make a run for it – the man was armed, and you assumed that the gun you spotted was not the only weapon in his arsenal. He was menacing, unpredictable, and very dangerous. Alongside that, as much as you hated to admit, but the Inspectors were nothing short of extraordinary when it came to their expertise and training. Unlike Android Guardians, they were the leading forces, capable of high-risk decision making and unparalleled critical thinking. If you were to try to describe them, you always ended up thinking of chess. That was what they were playing whenever they were out in the field.

In fact, it was for this exact reason that you were concerned about this Inspector’s behaviour – it was out of line. Inefficient. Sub-optimal. You wondered if this was a new strategy or there was a higher plan; there were so many possibilities that your head could start spinning. You dug your fingers into rapidly cooling flesh, waking yourself up from the distressed rumination. What was the Inspector going to do to you? You had followed his demands so far, and weren’t putting up a fight - what more could he want?

He was unreadable. Gestures unpredictable, expression stoic, he regarded you with an air of superiority characteristic of people from his class. Serpent-like and calculating eyes, regal nose, facial structure reminiscent of a statue, plush perfectly shaped lips – all were a nod to his upbringing, you bet. He did not feel real. Reminiscent of automatons that the regime sometimes used in place of regular Guardians during high-volume riots, he was what one would call the ‘ideal specimen’. Down to the strand of wavy hair that fell on his face, he was a beautiful painting of your worst nightmare. Life had been unkind to you, you decided. It only showed you something prettier than the night lights when it was the last thing you would see.

The man stepped towards you, and your eyelids slammed shut automatically. You did not wish to see your death. The sound of leather against leather, the tied coat belt, the creaking of ancient rotten wood planks under lacquered ankle boots. He must be getting ready to end you. Were you too high profile to be lying with the other bodies in the club? Were you more dangerous in the Inspector’s view, being a singer, or as one could say a ‘spreader’ of inappropriate entertainment. Was this treason? Terrorism? You were not sure – the sentence changed more than the weather. But were you an enemy? With confidence, you had to answer with a Yes. Having escaped the regime, and according to those who had helped you regain some parts of your past self, having had a part in the uprising within Prestige Academy, you were the worst kind of citizen of Strictland. Disobedient, unchanging, and influential. You were waiting for the cocking of a pistol, for cool metal to hit your head, and for the world to go even darker as you collapsed on to the floorboards. The man had to be taking out his gun. He must have taken you away from the raid to be particularly ruthless. A sadist? Maybe. You had no time to judge.

You felt the fabric of your shimmering dress under your fingertips, and imagined you were preparing for a show of a lifetime. You counted your inhales and exhales like you would do before a performance, and conjured an audience in your mind. More rustling, another step. He, that boy, no, young man, was in the audience. Still in the Prestige Academy uniform, but the chip was long gone. He was giving you an encouraging smile eager to hear what you had achieved in your time away from the academy. Leather caressed your hand and you flinched, comforted only by how cautious the action was. Hand turned to raise your palm to the omniscient skies, your illusions combined with reality - what was Seonghwa to give to you?

Funny, how in critical moments, the mind could give you what you had longed to forget. Seonghwa. His name tasted sweet, with a bitter aftertaste. A fine wine, dizzying, addictive. A handsome, talented student who had the future ahead of him, only to throw it away for the taste of something more ‘real’ in his eyes. Something cold was being pressed into your palm, reminiscent of a large bullet or a device your fingers could remember before your mind. Your eyes shot open and were met with a dream and a nightmare. Finally, it hit you. Behind the Inspector’s facade, a mask crafted by years of experience and brutality, was the same boy, who, just like now, pressed a breaker into your palm.

“Wake up.”

Your gaze fell to the intricate metal handiwork, spotting the carving of an ‘A’ contained in a circle right at the base. The taste of anarchy, an uprising, revolution, a hope for something better flowing through a tragic story you two had written. At last, it had a resolution, and you were more than content with who was holding the lethal pen. You stared at the breaker. The very thing that brought you out of an eternal somnolence, submission to a regime. You had woken up then, and never could sleep.

“Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer… the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune…” you lifted your head once more, staring into Seonghwa’s softened eyes. He had matured, his features having become siren-like, dangerous, seductive. Befitting his character. You smiled sadly, “...or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and, by opposing end them?” He remained quiet, as if he was the one waiting for you to decide your own destiny, “Shakespeare. Hamlet. Ever read it? Or do they not let you?”

“I-” he cleared his throat, concealing a pang of nervousness, “I am familiar with his work.”

“Mm, isn’t that a criminal offence?”

“What is?”

“Reading work exploring human emotion… sounds like treason to me.”

“Reading does not imply sympathising.”

“But you do.”

Again, a heavy pause. Seonghwa rocked from one foot to another one time, another - an old habit? Or an attempt to convince you that he was at least a fraction the same?

“I… I do not,” before you could scowl, he continued, “‘Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste of death but once’. I am more partial to this way of thinking.”

“Ah, the irony of it all.”

Your hand formed a fist around the device, and you kept on searching for fragments of the man you loved inside of the new Seonghwa before you. In flashes, you spotted glimmers of gold, feeble hints for something that could be concealed in the depths of his soul.

“So, are you going to make me a valiant person?”

“What?”

“Wasn’t that what you were supposed to be doing?” feeling a little more brave, you taunted him, wishing to see what his limit was. Whether he was lying to you just to set you at ease and make his job easier. So he could see one final sense of betrayal in your pupils.

“We are already dead, Y/N.”

---

Music. A universal language. The biggest risk for a community that someone wanted to silence. So you hummed one song after another, head leaning against Seonghwa’s shoulder as you sat on the concrete floor, in the corner of the room that was barely holding itself together. Bathed in silver light, you shared with him the luxury of reminiscing, mourned what had been lost only to have the feeling be replaced by a budding desire to wish upon anything at all.

Seonghwa might have lied to many of the Inspectors, and was in danger of facing a fate worse than extermination, but at least he did not lie to you. And because he did not lie to you, you were here; you were real. He could have the pleasure of having you beside him, wrapped up in his leather coat; your dress was not exactly ‘inhospitable conditions’ material, as pretty and befitting as it was. You were refusing to let go of the breaker as though it was the tether to a more sunny past, not that Seonghwa would ever dare pry it out of your hands. So long as you could keep singing for him forever. Even when music were to cease existing, and when the sky would fall down, he would still hear your voice. How many times had he visited Morpheus in secret, outside of his official inspections and scouting missions? How quickly had he transferred into a field role just for the chance to find you? How had he managed to remain alive even though his sentence had been supposedly set in stone, and he was still feeling? With each question, the answer grew blurrier and blurrier, until it no longer existed. Perhaps this was a manifestation of destiny. You were supposed to meet again after so much turmoil, so you did. Curious.

“What song do you like?” your voice, sleepy, serene, cut through his ruminations. Seonghwa looked down and to his side, meeting a gentle gaze.

“What song do you want to sing?”

“Mm, no that’s not an answer,” you snaked your hands around his arm and pulled him closer.

“But I like everything you sing. Because you sing it.”

“Sweet, but I’m at a loss.”

“Then let’s be quiet. Together. For as long as we can.”

“There’s not too long left, is there?”

Your question was rhetorical. Both you and Seonghwa were aware of it. Time in Strictland was not governed by the individual but by an unforgiving system. A person, or perhaps a symbol, holding the clock with an iron grip and making the hands fly faster and faster until a second was an impossible measure. Involuntarily, he sighed, causing wisps of steam to escape his lips and rise to the exposed armature of the floor above. With cooling temperatures came the cooling heart, and it was difficult to tell what it was that you loved. What was it that made you feel alive?

“You know, they gave me a choice,” Seonghwa began. There was no reason why he should be telling you about what had happened to him, but the sombre atmosphere seemed to bode well for a confession. You did not interrupt, choosing to remain passive, resigned, “either die for what I believe in, or admit I was wrong.”

“Funny how they gave you a choice,” the infamous ‘they’. The Guardians, the regime, the enemy. Now turned into a friend. Interesting how life changed.

“Definitely was not what I expected.”

“You sure they didn’t say ‘sike’ at any point and you just got lucky?”

“I don’t think they can miss,” a simple, but sharp fact. You bit your lower lip, “...anyways. You can probably guess what I chose to do. The only caveat is that I admitted I was wrong… for a different thing.”

“Do tell.”

“I was wrong for putting you in danger, Y/N.”

“Nothing we could do about that. We were two fools in love.”

Seonghwa detangled himself from you, only to grasp your free hand in his, place the other on your thigh and meet you face to face. Misty-eyed, his rationality was growing frantic, and you knew that at any moment he could snap, and only the clearing night knew what would happen then.

“But I was the one to jolt you out of a peaceful existence. I was selfish-” After years of doubting himself, sinking into a destructive illusion where he would march alongside others like a machine, he was breathing. Much to his regret, it was a sensation far too sweet and heavenly, worth every revolution and rebellion.

“I don’t regret it.”

“...What?”

“I would put this thing to my head time and time again if I had to,” you raised the breaker to eye level, attempting to get at least a smile or a chuckle out of Seonghwa. Much to your dismay, it did the opposite. You would be lying if you were to proclaim you were euphoric.

“I- I’m… Y/N I’m so sorry…” you shook your head and pulled him in, until his exhales and inhales were tickling your neck. Hunched over you like a black-clad shield, Seonghwa was unmoving. Eyes darting down, you spotted that he had taken the pistol out of the holster, and upon a second glance to where he had been sitting, you noted its lonely presence, tucked away with debris and gravel.

“You are alive. And clearly still care enough to remember me. That’s your apology. And your punishment,” in a soothing gesture, you ran your fingers through his hair, cautiously at first, then turning your ministrations continuous, measured out when Seonghwa sat back down on the concrete, only this time nuzzled into you.

“Sorry…” he forced out, choking up.

The moon counted down the time while lazily passing over the building. You were at a crossroads. In haste, Seonghwa had told you of the opportunity to serve the Guardian Inspectors, being a private entertainer of sorts, but he knew you would refuse. Fast. Becoming one’s own enemy was the one thing you would not follow Seonghwa into doing. And that is why he admired you. You were strong. You were truly alive. A bird soaring in the skies in spite of the risks of being hunted, being shot. Simply for the feeling of the wind under your wings, to be closer to the stars and to sing your song loud and clear, every note a celestial blessing.

“Blue bird…”

“Hm?”

“I think I have an idea… if you are willing to go into hiding, that is.”

“Planning uprisings are we?”

“Oh they’ve been long in the works, my love. It is part of my job to close my eyes when necessary, and when convenient.”

“Are you about to be wrong again?”

“Maybe. Or very, very right. Depends on how the song sounds to you.”

---

Walking down the corridors of the headquarters, hands behind his back and appearance pristine, Seonghwa was nothing short of a model Inspector. Low ranking employees cowered before him and bowed, while his immediate colleague Wooyoung smirked, attempting to hook any information out.

“So… where'd the pretty star go?”

Silently, Seonghwa handed him a slip recording the disposal of an ‘unnamed entity’.

“ Oh… well that’s harsh. What did they do, reject you?”

“Apparently once gone so far astray, one cannot be changed. I had to do what was best for the regime.”

“Such an example for others. Wow. Almost too good to be true, Park. Well, I’ll be reporting that the extermination and cleanup of Morpheus was successful.”

“You do that.”

While Wooyoung turned the corner, Seonghwa continued to walk straight down the metal corridor, eyes locked onto the very end. Morpheus was no longer, indeed. But your song was still ringing in his ears, and no doubt, there would be a time when it would resound over the many speakers planted all across Strictland.

Blue skies smiling at me

Nothing but blue skies do I see

Bluebirds singing a song

Nothing but bluebirds all day long

Never saw the sun shining so bright

Never saw things going so right

Noticing the days hurrying by

When you're in love, my how they fly

Blue days, all of them gone

Nothing but blue skies from now on

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