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#i shudder to think about what some of the people i interacted with in a previous fandom would do with ff6
sunsetzer · 1 month
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On one hand, I want a final fantasy 6 remake, because the game is criminally underrated and the amount of fan content (which is all absolutely fantastic btw) is Not Enough for my neurodivergent, hyperfixating brain.
On the other hand, that would inevitably encourage more people to join the fandom, which would be great, except it seems these days the bigger a fandom gets the more toxic it becomes, and I really like what we have going on over here in our little corner. We all just love the game and its characters and nobody fights about who should and shouldn't date who or who you shouldn't like because they're ~problematique~. Nobody's trying to make one ship morally better than another, nobody's calling anyone names or threatening to doxx people who don't agree with their opinions. It's so peaceful and I love that for us. We're just vibing. Moisturized. Unbothered. In our lane. Flourishing.
#as someone who was in an extremely toxic and chaotic fandom and lowkey still traumatized#to the point where I'm afraid to mention which fandom it was/what my ship was#i have to say#i genuinely love it here#i was nervous at first sharing my ships and headcanons but everyone is so chill i was worried for nothing#thank you to everyone I've interacted with who has made this fandom a healing experience for me#i shudder to think about what some of the people i interacted with in a previous fandom would do with ff6#probably would take edgar's flirting at face value and call him problematic for objectifying women#instead of considering the narrative and what we know about him and the way he actually treats women#my man drinks loving and respecting women juice he's not a creep#or that weird moment with relm that admittedly made me double take before i realized what he meant#theyd have a whole campaign against him lmfao#bc those people boil characters alive until they're just a formless pile of tropes and stereotypes#and seem to disregard all positive aspects of a character they don't like which is fine#but then they go and try to force other people to think like they do and ugh#theres a lot of silly moments in the game and aspects of these characters that make them well rounded and realistically flawed at times#and i fear that would get lost in the chaos if the floodgates opened after a remake#maybe im just jaded lmao#im jaded and i have anxiety so im always thinking about The Worst Case Scenario#the collective positive spirit of the dwellers in this fandom might actually foster a positive space if more people were to come in#ff6#my post#i was gonna say maybe this is bc we're mostly adults#but that falls flat when i remember how some of the most toxic and immature people in some fandoms are grown ass adults#who bully each other and younger fans#and some of the most mature and cool people were actually younger#maybe ff6 fans are just built different lmao#also idk how old anyone else actually is there might be teenagers here i just don't think about it a lot
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rowarn · 8 months
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okay i'm back to expand on toxic situationship simon vs smitten golden retriever könig fighting for ur attention!!!
when simon first met you, he had no intention of interacting with you let alone "dating" you. but it just kind of....happened. you had a way of worming your way into his thoughts and his life.
the problem was that he was not build for a relationship. he had problems. a lot of them. he wasn't the type to work on himself, he was the type to find distractions to cope with the mess that was in his head at all times.
the closer you tried to get to him, the further he pulled away. but then when you backed off, he remembered he needed you as a distraction. so he'd rein you back in only for the cycle to continue.
he ignored how much it hurt you, how sometimes your eyes would swim with tears when he gave you the cold shoulder and told you to leave him alone. it wasn't like you understood what was going on — simon refused to open up and tell you that he was just...fucking messy in the head. instead, he just let you think he was some sleazy douchebag who used you for a quick fuck only to toss to the curb when you annoyed him.
part of him wondered (but didn't care bc it benefited him) why you kept coming back after how much he hurt your feelings. but when he wasn't being an intentional jackass to get you to leave him alone for a week or two, he was a great guy. a gentleman. he spoke to you with a soft but not condescending tone and was patient even when you asked stupid questions. when he had you as his distraction, he enjoyed your company and you enjoyed his — only for him to turn around and spew vitriol out of left field.
it was during one of the times he had chased you off that you met könig. on an elevator of all things. the entire mechanical box shuddered with his weight and you were downright shocked as the hulking mass of him ducked to step in.
when you asked what floor, he spoke with a quiet, almost nervous tone to tell you. as you rode the elevator down, you couldn't help but notice how he sort of shrunk in on himself as if he was trying to take up as little space as possible — as if that was even possible. he was massive. he avoided your gaze in a way that was shy instead of suspicious.
it was kind of...cute.
when you both got off the elevator, the lobby, you took a deep breath and stopped him, asking as confidently as you could if you could have his number. his eyes had widened but he surprisingly didn't say no — jackpot!
tho you couldn't see all of his face — the bottom half of it covered by a mask and his large hood concealing his hair, you felt a bit of an attraction to him.
as you walked out, hastily typing his number into your phone as you parted ways, you realized you may have a thing for masked man since this man — könig, he had said with an accent, and the ass that was simon both wore masks.
in between the time of The Simon Cycle, you went on a couple dates with könig. he was charming and sweet, if not a little shy. he was clumsy and almost always bumped his head on doorways before shamefully rubbing the spot he bumped with a look of embarrassment in his eyes.
he was excitable and energetic. he loved animals and always pointed out whatever animals he saw while walking with you — people walking dogs, cats in windows, ducks floating on ponds.
the more time you spent with him, the more you forgot about simon.
until his name popped up on your phone one evening when you were spending an evening in with könig. it was nothing crazy, he wanted to watch his favorite horror movie with you (an ancient black and white).
könig caught sight of your frown as your phone rang, catching sight of the name 'simon' with a blank picture.
"who is this?" he had asked, tho it wasn't out of jealousy, just pure concern and interest.
you let out a sigh, "i dated him....sort of...? not really..." you had responded, earning a confused look from him.
you explained everything to him, from meeting simon all the through his on and off behavior. by the end könig looked upset on your behalf, shaking his head.
"if he cannot decide if he wants you, then he should leave you alone," he said softly, smiling under his mask with a crinkle of his eyes, "that way someone who knows that they want you can move in!"
that was one thing you liked about könig, he was actually open to communicate his thoughts and feelings with you. he told you were pretty, how he liked your laugh, how much he enjoyed your company and was excited to see you again when you both had time.
simon was closed off. he was quiet, mostly listening rather than talking. but he listened well. you remember mentioning that you broke your lamp and had bought a new one but couldn't figure out how to set it up. a week later, after a nice evening spent in bed together, you woke up to find him sitting on your living room floor putting together that lamp for you.
even though könig was...lovely. there was something about simon that was so intoxicating that you couldn't seem to let it go. but also the sex with simon was....spectacular. you never had a man so eager to make you cum until you were incoherent — never had a man who could.
and könig was....traditional. slow. he wanted to date for a long time before jumping into bed. he wanted to properly court you and go through a whole process. which you respected but...you were impatient. greedy.
it wasn't like könig was against you seeing simon. he had told you that you were free to do what you wished, but unless you made it official with the other man he was not going to back down from trying to court you.
so when simon called on you again a couple nights later, you answered.
he was glaring when he opened the door for you, motioning for you to enter before shutting and locking the door.
"why didn't you answer?" he grilled. clearly you ignoring his call when you were with könig annoyed him more than you thought.
you raised an eyebrow before slowly answering, "i was on a date, simon."
that seemed to make him freeze where he stood, eyes narrowing even more into a glare.
"a date?" he spat, "with who? you don't need to go on any dates, you're with me."
that made you roll your eyes so hard it nearly gave you a headache, "a nice guy named könig. simon, i'm not even sure you like me beyond wanting sex. i want a boyfriend." you huffed, "and clearly you don't want that!"
"oh yeah? then why are you here instead of with your boyfriend?" he hissed the last word in disgust.
"we're not official. he hasn't asked but we've been...seeing each other." you decided simply.
at that, simon jerked his mask over his mouth to kiss you in that heated way that made your legs tremble, "does he fuck you as good as i do? hm?"
that got your attention, a sly smile coming to your lips as he worked you out of your clothes.
he was jealous. this revelation was exhilarating to you. simon, the guy who acted like he couldn't care less about you, was actually jealous that you were seeing another guy!
the sex that night was as phenomenal as usual and more. he spent a good half of it with his head between your thighs, pinning you down with strength alone as he ate you to orgasm after orgasm until your cum was a sticky, stringy mess on his lips and chin.
then he worked you to two more orgasms on his cock, the last one he hadn't even needed to touch your clit before you were creaming around him with a sweet little squeal.
simon had a point to prove. you were his and he was not going to lose you to some asshole. deep down, he knew he didn't deserve you and that he should let the better man have you but he just couldn't. he needed you. he wanted you. he was selfish and greedy.
simon disappeared after that. but for once had actually communicated what was going on — deployment, he said. didn't know how long he would be gone. he had actually gave you a goodbye kiss that left you spinning.
the next time you saw simon, you were on a date with könig. it was a quaint little bar that könig said he liked. so there you were, sitting across from him at a booth, nursing a drink and softly talking with one another.
you didn't even know simon was back. he hadn't said anything. when he walked into the bar, his eyes scanned the place like they always did before landing on you.
his gaze lit up as he took a step towards you but quickly halted when he saw you were sitting across from another man. but that didn't stop him for long.
you cursed under your breath, catching könig's attention before simon was right there at the end of the table, glaring at könig.
"can we help you...?" könig asked softly, clearly a little nervous.
"hi...simon..." you sighed softly. könig straightened up in his seat at that.
"official yet?" he asked you, ignoring your greeting.
you gritted your teeth, casting a glance towards könig who looked confused.
"no." you answered simply.
with that simon, yanked a chair from a nearby table and sat right at the end of your table. you concealed a groan of despair.
simons glare fixed upon könig, a challenge clear in his stare alone. he reached forward and grabbed your drink from your hand despite your protest, lifting his mask enough to take a sip, the cocky smirk visible briefly on his lips.
könig quickly understood what was going on and his own eyes narrowed into a glare. you could practically see the sparks going off between them and buried your face in your hands.
it was going to be....a painfully long night, you feared.
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wolfiesmoon · 1 month
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Who is who again?
Riddle, Vil, Idia (seperately) x gn!reader
i was thinking and thinking and then i remembered that basic overdone fanfiction tropes do in fact exist, so here's a silly lil bodyswap fic for the soul
yuu is a little silly prankster goofster who likes messing around and trolling people in this fic, just saying in advance that i did inject a bit of personality in them
also i apologise if the fanfic becomes confusing to read at any point, it's kind of hard writing the reader's actions while in someone else's body, especially when interacting with the person you're swapped with haha
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‧₊˚✩彡 Riddle Rosehearts
"Okay, so you're tellin' me that you're Riddle, and you're the Prefect?" Cater pointed to each of you respectively, still trying to grasp the situation. Trey, Ace and Deuce seemed equaly stumped.
"Yep. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but I'm in Riddle's body now." you replied, shrugging casually. "You shouldn't have told them so early on, Riddle, I wanted to mess around a bit."
"Oh, now I'm very glad I told them so early. Knowing you, you'd cause far too much trouble for me to be able to uphold my reputation." Riddle shuddered, imagining the silly pranks you'd pull on everyone while in his body. Well, I suppose they wouldn't be very silly to him.
"Wait. If I'm in your body, does that..."
You quickly took out Riddle's magical pen and pointed it towards Ace, yelling out "Off with your head!"
To your surprise, it actually worked and Ace had a collar around his neck. So you can use magic now.
"HEY! Why did you do that!?" Ace called you out.
"It's revenge for stealing the bit of food I was saving for last on Friday. And also, I needed someone to test out whether I can use magic now." you smirked mischeviously at his annoyance. Now this is fun.
"This still feels unreal. I cannot believe I'm looking at myself talking to someone else. And fooling around like an idiot, too." Riddle did not seem amused.
"Listen, okay, I finally have magic now and I'm gonna take advantage of that. Which means you better run, Cater." you rubbed your hands together evilly.
"What?! Why me?!" Cater was not prepared for this attack.
"Too much magicam. Not enough reality. Collar needed." you explain like a robot overlord and point Riddle's magical pen at Cater.
"Now, now, let's not do that, okay?" Trey gently wrapped his hand around the magical pen in your outstretched hand, smiling at you.
You were about to shake his hand off and proceed with your collaring plan, but you got a better idea.
"No, no, you're right." you shook your head, lowering your hand. Cater breathed a sigh of relief.
"Since I'm Riddle and all, I have to uphold a perfect test score on every test." everyone looked at you, wondering where you were going with this.
"This might be an awkward time to mention that I haven't studied for tommorow's test at all."
"Oh, no. Absolutely not. You are coming with me." Riddle was not about to let his grades slip by such a wide margin. He'll make you memorise things until atleast a 90% is guaranteed, as much as he would hate to get one.
Originally, he was going to try and figure out how to switch you back as soon as possible but that'll have to wait after tommorow it seems.
"WAIT, CAN YOU LIKE, ATLEAST REMOVE THIS COLLAR BEFORE YOU LEAVE?!" Ace yelled behind you but you just whistled innocently, not paying attention to his despair.
.
"That's how the Queen's succesor managed to- are you even listening?"
"You know, it looks kind of funny when I'm being scolded by myself." you yawned, placing your chin on your arms which were currently crossed on the table.
"This is NO laughing matter. My grades are at stake here." Riddle scolded you some more. You nodded sleepily and he took that as a sign to continue.
"So as I was saying- What are you doing now?" Riddle followed your line of sight, his gaze falling on the mirror inside his room. You were looking at him?
"Woah... You're, like, actually pretty cute." you turned back to him, excited at your discovery.
"...What are you blabbering on about? This is NO time to be fooling around, as I have been telling you for the past- Wow, you really are hopeless." Riddle sighed, watching you examine his face in his mirror and still not listening to the magical history lesson.
It does not help at all that you made him lose composure with that "cute" comment.
"Your eyelashes are nice." You comment, smiling at your own reflection.
"What an oddly specific compliment." Still, Riddle felt all weird inside when you said that. This is not fair. Now he can't focus on teaching you anymore.
"It's not oddly specific, really. Guys have really great eyelashes sometimes." You batted your lashes at the mirror and then at him, trying to showcase his charm.
"That is... very strange. Please stop that." Riddle still felt weird about seeing his own face make such silly expressions.
"Hey, if I were in my own body right now I would be swooning over you. Just for your information." You rolled your eyes playfully, entirely insistant on getting out of studying by flustering the hell out of poor Riddle.
"Wha- That's it, off with your-" Riddle reached for the magical pen which would normally be in one's pocket, only to realise that you don't even own one. Of course.
"Oh, Riddle. You silly goose. I'm the one in power here." You intertwined your fingers like a supervillain.
"Please, let's just get back to studying." If Riddle were in his own body right now, his face would be red all over from embarrasment.
"If you insist." You sighed in feigned defeat, your mind already cooking up more plans to embarrass Riddle while you're in his body.
How very fun indeed.
"Why are you smiling at me like that? That kind of smile does not suit my face." Riddle seemed concerned about his body's fate.
"Hmmm, I wonder how many drinks I can order at the Mostro lounge in one sitting." You wondered aloud on purpose.
"What?!"
"What? I didn't even say anything this time." you faked your innocence.
This is going to be a nightmare for Riddle, isn't it?
‧₊˚✩彡 Vil Schoenheit
"Oh. My. God." you lightly slapped your cheeks while looking at yourself in the mirror to make sure this is reality.
Well, you suppose they aren't exactly your cheeks. You're currently inside Vil freaking Schoenheit's body and you have no idea how it happened.
You do suppose all logic kind of gets thrown out the window in a world where magic exists, so swapping bodies with someone might not be that outlandish. Now you wonder if you're the only one who this happened to, and what your body is up to.
Speaking of being Vil Schoenheit now, does that mean you have to uphold his insanely strict daily routine now?
Nah, who are you kidding? You're going to cause as much trouble as you can for this pretty boy. He wakes up much earlier than you thought, so you don't know what to do right now. You walk around his room, inspecting every corner for some prank ammunition.
Rook knocked on the door all of a sudden, telling Vil that he's worried since he's taking longer than usual. You let him into the room.
You decided that you're not going to tell anyone that you're actually not Vil and and act as him for as long as you possibly can.
"Oh, I was just... thinking about something." you grinned evilly at the mirror, before turning back to face Rook.
"Oh my, it seems you were so lost in thought that you've completely forgone doing your hair and makeup. Quite the unpleasant surprise. What troubles you so?" Rook seemed utterly hearbroken.
Wow, he's blunt sometimes. Not that you care about that right now.
"I was just thinking that I'll probably skip all that today. You know, going for a natural look." You twirled a piece of Vil's hair in your hand.
Rook tried convincing you otherwise but you shooed him out, not wanting to hear anything about how 'a natural look also involves doing subtle, light makeup'. You're on a mission here.
Speaking of, you just got a great idea.
You opened his Magicam after getting dressed, briefly gawking at the follower count before clicking on the 'new post' button.
You placed Vil's phone horizontally against your chest, taking an unflattering chin photo and posting it to magicam with the caption "#chinningtime😍😍😍😍", giggling like an idiot all the while.
Within a minute, your post has already gained about 2 thousand likes and loads of very confused (and amused) comments.
What great encouragement to post another one.
You placed the selfie camera of his phone close to your forehead, taking a forehead touch perspective pic. You added the caption "what my kitten sees😈💯🔥" and posted it.
You were laughing your ass off at all the comments when someone knocked at the door. "Roi du Poison, this is an intervention. I am very concerned about you."
Hahahaha, of course he would be one of the first people to worry about you.
Rook joined you once again in your room, explaining how concerned he is about your behavior this morning and how it's very unlike you. I mean, jeez, is Vil allergic to fun or something?
However, Rook wasn't the only one that had concerns with you, it seems.
"Would you care to explain what these are?" you were surprised to hear your own voice, turning your gaze back to the door where you were standing with a very displeased face, holding up your phone with the two selfies you took earlier. It feels dystopian to see yourself standing right in front of you. Out of body experience, for real.
"Wait. Before anything, just who are you?" you wanted to know just who was in your body, though you were already about 90% sure of it.
"Ah, Trickster. What brings you into Pomefiore?" Rook questioned internally how Vil doesn't recognise you.
"For your information, I am Vil. That other person next to you is not Vil. I'd assume you're the prefect, then?" he looked you with authority, leaving no room for stalling or avoiding his question.
"Yeah, yeah. You got me. But like, it's funny, right?" you shrugged, smiling goofily.
Vil dragged you off to the headmage's office, promising to explain things to Rook later and giving a firm scolding to you.
.
"Now that everything is finally sorted and we're excused from class for the day, would care to delete those... unflattering posts, please?" once the two of you were back in Vil's room, he immediately brought up that topic.
By now, they had to have gathered about 70k likes, right? Hehehehe.
"Do not smile at me like that. Or I will take back my phone and delete those horrid photos myself. Do you even realise what a PR nightmare this could be?" he placed his hands on his hips. You feel like you look completely different now that Vil's mannerisms are reflected on your own body. Body language really makes a man, huh?
"Oh, come onnnn, your fans love it. Everyone's laughing and saying how surprising it is to see you post something like this. See, they even got the hashtag #chinningtime trending!" you showed him pictures of his fans taking the same unflattering chin photos.
"What joy does someone derive from selfies as horrible as that? You made me look utterly horrible with those angles." You watched your own face contort with cringe. It's amusing how funny you look.
"People love silly things from time to time. For a celebrity as serious and professional as you, occasional silliness makes you look more relatable to your fans. A celebrity with a good sense of humor is the best kind in my opinion." you gave him a happy thumbs up. It was also for your own amusement, but you really don't feel like getting scolded even more than you have on your way back to the dorm.
"That is... the smartest thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth." He sighed, "I suppose it would cause people to talk about it even more if I deleted them now. But I am still not happy about them."
You ignored the jab at your intelligence, turning around to look at yourself in the mirror. "You know, Vil, you can let loose from time to time. Smile and goof around without worrying what someone might think." your eyes travelled down the sculpted jawline of your new reflection.
"In a way, you're right for suggesting that. But I'm not someone who enjoys your sense of humor or relaxed philosophy to begin with." he was right. He only jokes on occasion and his jokes aren't very goofy.
"You're right..." now that you technically are him, you can see first hand how much he cares about his body. His skin is soft and gleaming, his hair is healthy and shiny and his body is nice to move around in.
"You seem lost in thought. It's unlike you." you looked back at him through the mirror.
"I just thought about how admirable you are. Like, damn, I could nevaaa." Vil inferred you were talking about his strict daily routine. You seem different now. More quiet and thoughtful than usual. And he definitely didn't miss the pink dusting his cheeks on his own face through the mirror's reflection.
"Thank you." 'admirable' is a compliment slightly rarer than the usual ones talking about his beauty.
"By the way, your smile is beautiful. Not the one in all the movies, the one you don't consciously make." you closed your eyes, recalling that exact face of his. Too pretty for his own good, that man.
"Thank... you. You seem in a great mood to compliment me. Surely you don't think this will be enough to make up for the selfies, because it is not." at this point, even Vil didn't know what to think. The smile he doesn't consciously make, huh...
"Nah, those were just random ones I wanted to get off my mind. Oh, by the way, I don't know how to do your makeup look. Care to do it for me, pookie bear?" you sprung up from the chair at the vanity table, already getting excited about messing him up on purpose by opening your eyes when he tells you not to or moving your lips away from the lipstick, making it smudge.
You got way too sentimental for a moment there. And you're sure he noticed.
"Back to your regular self, I see. Fine, I will make myself look beautiful, as always." he smiled confidently. Though he himself has become curious about that side of you now.
Do you really think of him as a victim of your little pranks like everyone else, or are you hiding something else behind your silly smile?
‧₊˚✩彡 Idia Shroud
You were surprised to find a different voice calling out to you in the morning and telling you to wake up, one that sounded more cheerful, peppy, childlike.
And sure enough, it was Ortho's face that greeted you instead of your usual furry friend Grim.
As it turns out, you woke up in Idia's body this morning. What a lovely surprise.
You mean that both sarcastically and in the regular sense.
While you were explaining what was happening to a confused and worried Ortho, Idia's phone started buzzing somewhere in the bed. This dude sleeps with his phone inside his bed? Well, you suppose you have no time for judgement when the phone call might be important.
You rummage through his bed and eventually extract his phone. It was your number calling him.
When you pick up, you hear your own panicked voice on the other end. "U-Um, is this- Are you- How do..."
"Yes, I'm the Prefect. Looks like we switched bodies overnight." you inferred that he wanted to know who exactly just picked up the phone.
"How exactly do you think that happened? I mean, that's NOT normal." your voice on the other end seemed much calmer now.
"Hm, I have no clue, but I do know that I'm going to have loads of fun..." you grinned widely, catching a glimpse of yourself on Idia's dark phone screen and flinching slightly. You're definitely not going to get used to looking like someone else for a while. Especially if your new appearance is as unique as Idia's.
"What do you mean by that? Seriously, wha-" you ended the call before your voice could finish the sentence.
"Hehehehe... I bet he's panicking so hard right now." you giggled to yourself, still feeling a little weird about the fact that it's Idia's voice coming out of your mouth instead of your own.
"Brothe- No, Prefect. Who was that?" it was adorable how worried Ortho was over his brother. Or you, you suppose.
"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head about it..." you patted Ortho's head, hand moving over his flames with interest. "Go ahead and have fun, I'll be here if you need me." you gently shooed Ortho out of Idia's room to execute your master trolling plan.
You sat behind Idia's computer, booting it up. His computer works really fast, which isn't all that surprising considering his skills. He probably built the whole PC from scratch.
Surely, Idia won't mind if you play his games for a bit. You just want to see how far he's gotten. How many items he's saved up.
Hehehe.
You opened up one of the games you've been dabbling in yourself a bit, giggling to yourself about the random anime girl backround.
"Jeez, he's basically pro at this point." you went through his obtained characters and all the stats on most characters were maxed out.
But, since he still hasn't obtained the new character AND he has loads of gems in his inventory, he surely won't mind if you do the work for him, right?
You started pulling for characters in the gacha, waiting for the little indicator that you got a rare character. The flames of your hair flickered more and more with each pull, knowing you were getting closer.
Just when you got the pull animation you were looking for, the door to his room burst open and you saw yourself, all panicked and panting. Took him long enough, jeez.
"Oh, hi, me! I was just pulling for this character on your behalf, and-" you glance at the monitor "Looks like I won the fifty/fifty, hehe~" you acted cute and innocent.
"W-W-WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! I didn't- I didn't want this character! I was saving up for the re-run, and- Agh!" Idia pushed you away from his keyboard, and he stared at the screen with pure horror in his eyes. You wonder what color his hair would be if he were in his body right now. But as it stands, his flames are flickering happily above your head at a succesful trolling attempt.
"Just buy more gems, bae. Money solves all your problems." you pat his head, kinda cringed out by the way your face can contort when it's making faces candidly. You really look like that when in despair, huh?
Idia ignored the way the casual pet name made him feel. He's supposed to be furious at you right now, not flustered.
"Noooooooo, this is the worst day of my life...." he hid his face in his hands.
"You know what, though? Look at the bright side! I get to figure out how your hair looks when it's wet. I doubt you'd do it yourself and I've been morbidly curious for a while." you patted his shoulder in an overly cheerful manner.
"Wha- Abso-freaking-lutely not. You're a weirdo of the third degree." he crossed his arms, still feeling a bit heartbroken over his videogames being tampered with.
"Is it that weird that I find your hair pretty?" you run your hand through his hair for the thousandth time this morning. It just feels so strange, yet nice under your fingers.
"Finding out if I become bald when my hair gets wet doesn't seem like something a hair admirer would do, but IDK, maybe my definition is different from yours." Idia shrugs, scowl still as big as ever.
"But really, I am an admirer. I kept looking at myself or, well, you in your phone camera this morning because your hair is just so pretty. Watching your hair fluctuate with your emotions is always a fun sight, too. Like damn, your hair is literally on fire, how cool is that?" you explain your thoughts, twirling a piece of his hair in your hand and smiling at it.
"If only I could cuddle up to you and use you like a heater. Too bad your hair's just a normal temperature." Idia's heart almost exploded at the mental image that formed in his head when you said that. And it was even worse because it was coming out of his own mouth.
"T-This is not okay... You can't do this to me...!" he mumbled, not meeting your eyes.
You don't get it, you just dealt 99999 damage to his falling-in-love-resistance shield. Just how do you manage to do that?
"Actually, now that I can look at it up close as much as I want, your face is like, really well proportioned too. Like..." you bit your lip as a joke, wanting to look overly flirty. "That's all I'm gonna say."
Okay, now you've done it. He might just pass out, right now.
599 notes · View notes
starlightxsvt · 11 months
Text
Bloodily Safe | j.ww
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pairing ➳ psychopath!wonwoo x fem!reader
genre ➳ psychological thriller? camgirl au(read note below), college au, smut
word count ➳ 18.5k
warnings ➳ toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, very descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder (lmk if I forgot smth)
synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?
disclaimer:❗ I am, by no means an expert in behavioural abnormalities so please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. I tweaked the story and their characteristics to my needs so please don't take this seriously. Also, this fic contains some highly sensitive topics so please read the warnings carefully. Do not interact if you are sensitive to these things ❗
note: reader isn't a camgirl in the typical sense, she basically reads erotica on live.
loosely based on the kdrama shadow beauty
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I.
The glaring red light of the camera lens blinks at you as pause for a moment between your reading. Your tablet sits on your lap, glowing brightly in the lowly lit room as 8 thousand viewers watch you live through the lens.
With a sigh, you continue reading in your best teasing voice.
Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You’re not surprised when he doesn’t stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.
Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you’re floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you’re too gone to care.
With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.
"That will be all for today guys. Thank you so much for tuning in. I'll be back on Thursday night!" You wave at the camera as soon as you finish and do your signature pose— making half hearts on your cheeks with your hands as the viewers leave comments asking you to stay a bit longer. Sending a flying kiss towards the camera you turn off your live and watch as the screen loads to show you how much you've earned for the two-hour live. Once the number pops up, you sigh with satisfaction and finally, take off the mask that you wear to conceal your identity.
After all, you wouldn't want people, especially your classmates or professors to find out you read erotica live in skimpy underwear and flirt with people to earn some extra bucks.
Well, a girl's gotta do what she gotta do.
Quickly changing out of the uncomfortable lingerie, you put on a comfortable t-shirt and crawl to bed with your laptop to check if the money has been transferred to your account. The camming website takes 20% of whatever you earn from each live yet the amount left is enough for you to make your work worthwhile.
Camming was never in your mind at all, even in your wildest dreams. Yet when your mother fell sick last year and the medical bills started piling up, you knew you had to find some easy way to earn good money. Then, one day, you overheard a couple of girls in class talking about camming and how good the money is.
Simply curious, you visited the website only to be unlocked to a whole new world. Thousands of people did a variety of adult content there but you were not brave enough to get naked from the start. So you opted for a safer option, reading erotica on live while wearing lingerie and flirting with the camera.
The first time you did it was only to test the waters using whatever equipment you had at hand but surprisingly, the response you got shocked you. So it started, you doing lives two days a week and earning enough money to pay for your mother's treatment and your college bills.
nerdycatboy wants to chat with you
The notification appears on your screen, telling you someone wants to talk to you privately on the camming website. You generally block these messages as most of them ask for nudes or send dick picks. Still, you click on it and watch as three dots appear, your fingers hovering over the block option, ready to press it as soon as the sender sends something inappropriate.
Surprising you, the message reads:
[nerdycatboy]: Hello, cherrybaby!
Today was the second time I watched your live.
You have a really beautiful voice.
I don't frequent these sites but I opened an account just to send you tips. Hope you received them.
Somewhat flattered, you type out a reply.
[you]: Thank you so much. I'm flattered to hear that. And yes, I received them.
[nerdycatboy]: You're welcome.
Also, I wanted to tell you something.
[you]: Sure.
[nerdycatboy]: I know who you are.
[you]: Excuse me?
[nerdycatboy]: ______. ______ of the Psychology department, Seoul University.
You're studying on scholarship.
Wanna know something funny?
I am your classmate ;D
Your throat feels something akin to a desert as you blink at the screen, praying for it to be a hallucination. The words, however, don't change and the daunting realization hits you.
Someone has figured out your identity.
Someone knows it's you.
But who?
Shit, who? Who could it possibly be?
You share your classes with almost eighty other people and it's impossible to guess this... stalker.
You're absolutely fucked.
It has only been a month since college started and you are doomed. What if whoever this is, exposes your identity and you are expelled?
Dear almighty, please let this be a dream.
A sudden ping! alerts you about another message, making you jump. Carefully, you open the chat to see what your stalker has to say.
[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't leave me on read.
You wouldn't want me to get angry now, would you?
A squeak of despair leaves your lips as your fingers nervously hover over the keyboard.
[you]: What do you want?
[nerdycatboy]: To play a game.
This really isn't looking good.
[you]: Please, just leave me alone.
[nerdycatboy]: Ey, where's the fun in that? Come on now, we'll just play silly little games.
You stare at the screen, your world coming down crashing on you as you wonder in the back of your mind, whether you should stop camming for good. Even if you wanted to, it's not possible.
Who's gonna pay for your mom's bills?
[nerdycatboy]: You there?
[you]: Yes.
[nerdycatboy]: Good. I'll come again before your next live. We're gonna play a little game then, okay?
You stare at the screen in silence.
[you]: Okay.
[nerdycatboy]: That's a good girl. In the meantime, have fun trying to figure out who I am. We see each other every day after all. It's just that you wouldn't know who I am.
You grind your teeth, holding back the urge to type all sorts of curse words you can think of.
[nerdycatboy]: Bye bye, now. Sleep tight.
[you]: Fuck you, loser.
You slam your laptop shut and lie in silence, curled up in your bed. The only way out seems to be to permanently delete your account but that is not an option for you. It is also quite literally impossible for you to figure out who it is. You don't even know if it's a guy or a girl or a goddamn fucking alien.
As the night grows deeper you only start to get more anxious and only when the sun starts to rise in the sky, do you fall asleep, your dreams plagued by the haunting messages from earlier.
II.
"_____? _____!"
The deep voice jolts you awake as you blink around, taking time to realize that you've fallen asleep on your desk during the lecture which now seems to have ended as you see everyone around you packing their bags and leaving.
A man stands next to your desk, holding a few sheets of paper towards you and you blink at them, confused.
"The professor gave us the answer sheet for last week's quiz. You seem to have fallen asleep during class." He says.
Your brain finally starts functioning just enough to realize it's Wonwoo talking to you.
Jeon Wonwoo.
The famous nerd, the genius, the pro gamer, the campus crush, the it boy and...
The man of your dreams.
"Right! Right, thank you," you croak, reaching for the sheets with one hand while trying to wipe the corners of your mouth for any drool.
"It's alright." He replies, as impassive as ever. His expression remains somber as always as he regards you through his glasses. Sometimes you wonder if he's a robot. Even though you have known him since high school, you've yet to see the man smile or shout or show any vivid emotion. He has always been the quiet type, keeping to himself, always studying or doing whatever intelligent people does.
He was the most popular guy in high school, loved by all, even the teachers, because of his perfect and polite demeanor and extraordinary results that got him many awards at the national level. The fame followed him to college too as you have seen in the last two months; with women and even some men flocking around him. You are not ashamed to admit you are one of them too, but not like it matters.
Jeon Wonwoo seems to be living in a completely different world.
"No, thanks, really." You reply, slightly awkward, not knowing what else to say exactly. He nods and slings his backpack over his shoulder and turns around to walk away. He seems to have a thought as he turns his head and asks, "Rough night? I haven't seen you doze off in class ever. You are always on top of your game."
Holy shit, that is the most amount of words he has spoken to you. Scratch that, that's the most you've ever heard him speak at a time.
And more importantly, he has been paying attention to you?? He notices you enough to know that you don't doze off?
Swallowing, you try not to let your face break out into a grin. "Yeah kind of," you mumble. He nods and spares you a glance before walking out of the classroom as you watch his lean, athletic frame from behind, a soft sigh escaping from your lips.
After he's gone, you pack up your stuff, mentally face-palming yourself for falling asleep during class. Not only did you fail to keep an eye out for your stalker but you also made a fool of yourself in front of Wonwoo.
What a great day!
III.
The next Thursday, a delivery from an anonymous person comes to you just a couple of hours before your live. A handwritten note sits on top as you open the package and your gut sinks once you realize who it's from.
Hello there, little cherry!
Please accept my lovely gift. Wear it in your live today unless you want your secret to be out ;)
Also, wear something black with it.
Love, your new best friend!
You crumple the note in your hand as you eye the package nervously, dread filling your veins as your mind tries to conjure what the item might be. Hands shaky, you reach for it to rip it open and then stand in silence as you gaze at it for a while.
The asshole sent you a cat costume.
A sexy cat costume.
More specifically a pair of black cat ears, a cat mask, a pair of paws and a... fucking tail.
Absolutely mortified at the idea of wearing these provocative items on live, you sink onto the floor, an utter sense of despair settling over you.
Sweet lord, this has to be a joke.
Quickly logging in to the camming website you type your new best friend a message.
[you]: You're kidding me, right? Please tell me this is a joke.
The asshole is very quick to reply.
[nerdycatboy]: I see you have received my gift. No, little cherry, I am not kidding.
You grind your teeth, eyes burning holes in the screen.
[you]: I can't wear that on live!
[nerdycatboy]: Why not? You'll look absolutely lovely. The black really goes with your skin tone.
Oh for fucks sake.
[you]: Are you a fucking furry?
There are several minutes of silence.
[nerdycatboy]: You are fucking cute you know that? I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard.
[nerdycatboy]: No, cherry, I am not a furry. I just like cats and you remind me of one. I bet if I touched you, you'd purr real good.
You would never admit how that text sent a jolt of shiver down your spine and made your toes curl.
[you]: Please, can you not do this?
[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't whine. It won't get you anywhere.
[nerdycatboy]: I'll tune in later. If you do not do as you're told you know what will happen...
[nerdycatboy]: Ah, I forgot. You don't have to wear the tail during your live. It will be uncomfortable to sit with. Just send me a picture later, hmm?
[nerdycatboy]: Bye now.
Fucking mother of all fucks.
You toss your phone on the bed, groaning out loud in frustration. The cat ears and mask sit next to you on the floor, mocking you in silence.
IV.
"Hello, my darlings! This is your favorite cherrybaby, back with you. Today I'll be reading the second chapter of Sugar & Spice!"
The comments, as you expected, go nuts over your outfit— the black cat ears with the mask, covering the better half of the top of your face, the furry paws paired with a lace black lingerie. Despite your initial thoughts of ignoring them, you decide to address them with their never ending onslaught.
"Everyone is talking about my little props today." You pause for an awkward chuckle. "Well, I thought I would spice things up. Aren't these cute?"
You can hear the stiffness in your own voice. Shaking it off, you read a few comments while waiting for the live to reach your minimum number of tips, which only takes a few minutes today before you start reading the erotica.
Throughout the live, u have no idea if the asshole has joined in and you almost start to think that maybe he has left you for good, that maybe it was a one time prank. However during the last ten minutes of your live, as you proceed to wrap it up you see the notification that bring your eyes to your forehead.
nerdycatboy gifted you 500$.
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit.
As soon as your live is finished you shoot him a private message.
[you]: Didn't think you'd be that pleased to see me dressed up as a cat.
[nerdycatboy]: Oh cherry, I was pleased alright. You were an absolute sight for sore eyes.
[you]: Thank you I guess?
[nerdycatboy]: Welcome. Now send me some pictures. Wearing the tail.
[you]: Can you answer a question first?
[nerdycatboy]: No promises.
You sigh. Here goes.
[you]: Are you a guy or a girl?
[nerdycatboy]: Why? Wouldn't send me the pictures if I was a girl?
You roll your eyes.
[you]: Just trying to narrow down my suspect list.
[nerdycatboy]: Cute. Keep trying. I am a guy. The man straight out of your nightmares, as you will start to find out.
Okay...
There are many many guys in your class, literally half of the total students. It's impossible to figure him out among them.
[nerdycatboy]: Now the pictures, cherry. Don't keep me waiting.
His message breaks your train of thought as you sigh, defeated. Telling him to wait while you fetch the stupid cat tail and clip it on your underwear. You're too humiliated to look in the mirror so instead you place your tripod on the bed with your phone and pose a couple of times or so, one from the front and one from the back.
As you scroll through them, you cannot bring yourself to believe you just took these pictures and let alone you're about to send them to someone. Each of them is equally provocating and humiliating. Before you start to think too much you bite your lip hard and send, watching as he views your message.
[you]: There you go, asshole.
[nerdycatboy]: Only three?
[you]: Take it or leave it. I'm tired.
You reply, not caring to be polite. The frustration and humiliation get to you as you rip the stupid things off your body and toss them away before falling on your bed and lying face down in silence.
[nerdycatboy]: Getting feisty. It's okay, I'm feeling kind today so I'll let you go.
[nerdycatboy]: Until next time, little cherry. xoxo
You watch his messages, a numbing feeling of defeat settling over you as you turn off your phone and push it away.
Even though you desperately want to think of nothing a thought continues to nag you. A shameful, despicable thought that you just can't seem to ignore.
You might be really enjoying being humiliated by an unknown man on the internet. How truly absurd, no? You let out a scream of frustration into the pillow. A faceless, seemingly rich man who has a kink of humiliating you is keeping your mind awake and body restless at night.
How did it ever get to this?
V.
[nerdycatboy]: I've been thinking about your task for tomorrow and finally made a decision.
[you]: Okay...
[nerdycatboy]: Wear a white shirt. Nothing more, nothing less.
[you]: Excuse me?
[nerdycatboy]: You heard me all right, little cherry.
You keep staring at the message as if looking at it long enough will make it disappear. It definitely doesn't. In fact, it gets worse.
[nerdycatboy]: And keep the top two buttons undone. Showing a little cleavage won't hurt. And wear red lipstick.
You keep staring at your screen, wondering in the back of your mind for the nth time just how your life came to be this.
God sure loves to test you.
[you]: I'm not a harlot you know.
[nerdycatboy]: Never said you were one. Besides what's wrong with being a one?
Him and his way with words. You roll your eyes, your fingers pressing the keys on the keyboard angrily.
[you]: If I wear white my tits will show.
[nerdycatboy]: That's exactly the point.
A seething rage envelopes your entire being as you clench both of your fists, inhaling a few deep breaths to stop yourself from smashing something. Ever since you came across this asshole you're realizing you've unlimited anger that you never thought you had in you.
[you]: Whatever, dick.
You reply and shut off your computer in an unsuccessful attempt to block him out.
However, the next day, you do end up doing your live in a plain thin white shirt which of course, makes the chatbox go up in flames.
Within a minute of starting your live, comments about your outfit start flooding in.
Fuck, you look so hot!
The red lips suit you so much!!
Yo, I can see her nipples.
You're getting bolder these days. Love to see it!!!
I'll pay anything for you to take the shirt off.
Swallowing, you ignore the crude comments and start with your usual greeting. "As you can see, everyone, my outfit is a bit risky today. Just thought I'd venture into something new." You force a laugh.
Did she lose a bet or something?
Yes, we need more risky outfits. How about being topless next time?
It's a downpour of all types of comments but you can't let them get to you. So you start reading the erotica instead, reading one or two decent comments every now and then for the next two hours. The view count is insane, the highest you've ever had and the number of tips are also sky high.
A tiny, tiny part of you is thankful to your crazy stalker, whom, you haven't seen in the comments section. You could have missed him, sure, but he was silent during the last live too so you can't rest easy knowing he is watching. You're ninety-nine percent sure he's gonna DM you as soon as the live is over.
Which turns out to be accurate.
Just as you are done taking off your mask and stretching your sore muscles after the live, his message pops up on the screen.
[nerdycatboy]: you looked absolutely devouring, little cherry.
You don't know why those words make you flush. Just a little bit, you tell yourself.
[you]: thanks, pervert.
[nerdycatboy]: this pervert would like some pictures today too.
Oh god. You rub your temples.
[you]: definitely not nudes.
[nerdycatboy]: no? :(
[nerdycatboy]: I don't want nudes, ____. Let us build up to it ;) Just snap some of you sitting on your bed with those pouty red lips. And undo another button of your shirt.
It's humiliating how his orders make you curl your toes and feel giddy all over. Like an obedient pet, you do as you're told, a bit too enthusiastically. You take your time and make sure to appear sexy and get the best angles. Once satisfied, you send them to the anonymous and wait eagerly.
[nerdycatboy]: you're a sight for sore eyes.
[you]: Prof Luther's assignment getting to you?
[nerdycatboy]: Mhmm. These will definitely help me power through.
[you]: glad I could be of help 🙄
[nerdycatboy]: you sure are. until your next live, little cherry. don't miss me too much.
You snort.
[you]: yeah, whatever, sicko.
[nerdycatboy]: Also, I'll be sending you a gift. You'll love it. I already do.
Oh god. Worry begins to bloom as your brain tries to think of the gift. What will he be sending you now? What is he gonna make you do on your next live? More importantly, are you seriously looking forward to it?
Yes, you are. This tiny, fucked up part inside you is excited and all too eager to please and obey a random stranger on the internet.
[you]: Please don't.
You type instead.
[nerdycatboy]: You should receive it within the next three days. We'll talk then.
[nerdycatboy]: Bye, little cherry. Sweet dreams.
And he's offline, leaving you hanging once again.
VI.
True to his words and from your worst nightmares, a package arrives three days later. Once again, you're too scared to open it, just standing there in silence while chewing on your lower lip. Your gut is telling you that it won't be something good which means it can only be something humiliating and freaky.
Taking a deep, calming breath, you start to open the outer packaging to find a baby pink cardboard box. There's a note taped on top of the lid.
I can't wait to see you use this on camera, little cherry.
It's only a line but it has you sweating buckets as you take off the lid with shaky hands.
Your world comes to an absolute halt. For long moments, you just stand rooted to your spot with your mouth agape, convinced that this can't be real.
It is, unfortunately.
The asshole sent you a vibrator.
A fucking vibrator.
It's a huge Hitachi wand and just looking at it gives you shivers.
There is absolutely no way...
You're immediately reaching for your phone to fire a text to the asshole.
[you]: Wtf? Is this a joke?
You type and snap a picture of the device to send it to him.
It seems that he has been expecting you to text as he immediately replies.
[nerdycatboy]: It absolutely is not. I am very much looking forward to seeing you use it.
[you]: Fuck you, dickhead. I won't. There's a limit to everything.
[nerdycatboy]: There's no limit to the games we play, little cherry. In fact, this doesn't even begin to cover it. I have more plans for you.
You can't think of a way this could get any worse.
Holding your breath, you wait for him to elaborate.
[nerdycatboy]: Little cherry, do you want to hear my voice?
What?
Your breath catches in your lungs as you stare wide eyed at the text for a long time.
[you]: Yes but not at the cost of this.
[nerdycatboy]: Hmm, as stubborn as ever. What if I told you I'd reveal myself if you use the vibrator on yourself in live?
It's the second time your breath stutters, a small gasp emitting from you as you cup your open mouth.
Immediately, the gears in your brain start turning. You'd finally get to know who he is and end this misery. Maybe you can come up with some sort of dirt on him and blackmail him in return. The possibilities are endless, truly.
However, more than anything else you're excited to finally see who it is and no matter how much you keep telling yourself no, a teeny tiny part of you is eager to pleasure yourself on camera.
God, what have you become, _____.
With a defeated sigh, you start typing.
[you]: You drive a hard bargain.
[you]: Alright. You have a deal but make sure to keep your promise.
[nerdycatboy]: I vow on my degree, little cherry. You will know who I am within the next forty-eight hours.
The thought sends an exciting chill down your spine.
[nerdycatboy]: Exciting, isn't it?
You roll your eyes.
[you]: Shut up and tell me what I need to do in the live.
[nerdycatboy]: Ah, yes. Nothing that tough really, wear that white shirt you wore last time and play with yourself. According to my instructions, of course.
[you]: Your instructions?
[nerdycatboy]: Yes.
I'll be on call with you throughout the live, giving you instructions.
Your curl your toes and bite your lip, a new wave of excitement rising within you as heat pools in your belly. This is unlike anything you've ever done before and way out of your comfort zone but surprisingly, you're all too ready to comply.
Your hands are shaky as you type.
[you]: Okay.
[nerdycatboy]: You are so obedient, my cherry. It really is great fun to play with you.
I'll call you tomorrow just before your live, then.
You swallow.
[you]: Alright.
He doesn't reply anymore and you think he has gone offline. Just as you are about to log out too, another text comes.
[nerdycatboy]: And remember ______, you follow every instruction of mine. That means you follow how I tell you to please yourself and you come when I tell you to. If you do a single thing without my permission, you're absolutely done for.
Your earlier feelings are replaced with an overwhelming feeling of trepidation and doom in the blink of an eye.
Quick realization dawns on you that you are a mere puppet being controlled by an evil puppeteer and your fate is hanging by a thread.
VII.
The next day, you receive an incoming voice call from nerdycatboy just two minutes before your live.
You are ready with your full setup; you just need to start the live when it's time. The AirPods are also set in your ears for him to guide you through.
At first, your entire body freezes up as your phone starts ringing and anxiety envelopes you as and you fall into a spiral. But when you remember how your entire life is on the line, you pick up the phone just as it's about to stop ringing.
Inhaling deeply, you speak.
"Hello?"
There's a beat of silence on the other side.
And another.
And another.
"Start the live, _____. It's time."
The voice is deep, gravelly, familiar yet unfamiliar but you don't get to think long about it because your finger presses the start button and just like that you're on live.
You see yourself on the screen, dressed in a white shirt amidst the neon pink lighting in your room. Today, you've put on a wig— a baby pink wig with two high ponytails and wore a basic black face mask instead of your usual stylish mask that covers the upper half or more of your face. It's obvious you're trying to cover as much of yourself as possible to counter the part that you're going to show.
Oh, sweet lord, you're doing this.
Your greeting and interaction are a lot stiffer compared to other days as there is a sadistic man in your ears. You've also restricted the comment box because you feel it's necessary for today, hence they move slowly as you go through them.
The man in your ears has been quiet but you know he's there, waiting with you, for the view count to reach the minimum. As soon as it does, he speaks.
"Why don't we get started, _____. Introduce your toy to everyone."
You swallow as your panicky gaze lands on the intimidating piece of device right out of the camera frame. You are full of nerves and anxiety and to de-stress yourself just a bit, you take a sip of the wine that you've hidden in your coffee cup.
Then, with a deep breath, you start.
"So guys... I've already said that I'm not gonna be reading today. Instead, I'm trying something new and different. Very, very different." You force a smile at the camera as you pick up the device and grip it tightly in your hand.
"I'm in the mood for...playing tonight and guess what I'm playing with?" You inhale deeply before lifting the device to show it to the camera, moving it around in a teasing manner.
As expected, the people in the comments go insane.
"That's right. I'll be using this pretty toy on me." You give a seductive smile, despite wearing the mask, hoping your eyes coney the expression.
"Good job, little cherry. Let's not waste time now. Turn it on." The man commands quietly and once again you're body acts like it's on autopilot, obeying him immediately.
There's something about his voice, so dangerous, so attractive. Something so powerful you don't dare disobey.
It's insane, really.
As ordered, you plug in the device and turn it on, watching warily as it starts vibrating, your throat going dry.
"Go ahead. Open your legs and put it on your pussy. Don't hold it anywhere too long, though. Tease yourself."
Oh fuck.
The sensible, conscious part of you starts freezing up with fear while the other part lets you only think about how hot all of this is and how eager you are to comply.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean back on your seat and part your legs. Trembling hands reach between them to pull your pink lacy panties to one side, revealing yourself to the camera.
There, you've done it.
Something inside you goes numb as you feel the chilly air on your bare core and from then on, you start feeling like a complete puppet, only here to dance as her puppeteer pleases.
Now there's no going back.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the comments fly by as the view count increases significantly.
Your puppeteer has been silent and you're somewhat grateful for his patience as you slowly adjust to your actions.
With another huge breath, you bring the thrumming device to your pussy and gingerly touch yourself while interacting with the camera, careful to follow the given instructions.
You're so wound up you don't feel any pleasure at the first touch on your pussy.
"You're so tense, _____. Don't make it look like someone is holding you at gunpoint. Relax your body, little cherry."
It proves to be harder said than done.
Still, you try to get yourself to relax and interact with the camera as you once again bring the device to your lips, playing with yourself.
"Good girl, _____. You look absolutely ravishing right now. Just keep following my voice and I promise you'll have the best orgasm you've ever had."
His tone is gentle yet ordering and oh so deep that you close your eyes and just let his words wash over you. The vibrator touches your clit right then making you jolt in your seat, a sigh of pleasure falling from your lips.
"Fuck, you're soaking, little cherry. You can try to act unwilling but deep down you are loving this. This is what you want, what you need, _____." His voice is gravelly as he breathes in your ears and you chew on your lower lip, knowing there is some truth to his words.
"Hold your pussy lips open, cherry. Run the toy up and down your folds."
You do as you are told, holding yourself open to the camera as the vibration goes through your soaking folds, making you whine in need.
"Turn the vibrations up. Just one bit."
The toy thrums stronger against your core and your legs start shaking just the tiniest bit. They have fallen wide open, resting against the armrest of your chair as you play with yourself.
"So obedient, little cherry. And so filthy. You're a real sight." He whispers. Your brain is starting to feel hazy as all your attention hones down to get yourself to release but as you expected, it doesn't prove to be so easy.
"Turn it off. Now."
Despite the serious urge to disobey him, you turn off the vibrator, teeth gritting, your pussy twitching in protest.
"We're you close, little cherry? Too bad, we can't have you cumming so easily. Turn it on again. Stroke yourself with it. Slowly."
And once again, you are eagerly following his words.
"Push it inside your pussy lips, little cherry. Just a bit. Not all the way, though."
Swallowing, you release a shaky breath and slip the vibrating head inside you, just a little bit— not even half of the head and the pleasure significantly increases as you let out a loud moan.
"Feels good doesn't it? Don't you dare slip it all the way in. There's no way I am letting a toy get inside you before myself."
His words make a shiver roll down your spine as you think of his cock and him whispering filthy words in your ear as he takes you. The little, sane part of your brain shakes her head at your deprived thoughts about a faceless man who has been blackmailing you.
"Turn it off."
Just like before, the man seems to know when your orgasm starts to rise. He tells you to shut off the device and much to your reluctance you do so, not knowing how long you can continue this without losing your mind.
"Turn it on to the highest setting this time. Hold it right on your clit. Don't you dare cum, cherry. I wanna see you writhe."
Oh fuck.
It's a really tough challenge, one you're sure you're gonna fail, yet you're helpless. You do as you're told, holding the throbbing device on your most sensitive part as you start to feel like you're gonna lose your mind. Your head falls back as your eyes roll to the back of your head, heavy pants falling from your lips as your legs shake.
"P-please, let me...come."
"You look so fucking hot right now cherry. I want to see you like this, begging for my cock. Tell me, do you want it?"
"Y-yes. Please..." You are so close you can taste the release.
"Turn it off, cherry. Right now."
With a cry of protest, you turn off the vibrator and let it fall from your hands as you slump back in your chair and catch your breath.
This is the sweetest torture.
The comments go wild, some wanting to see you come and some telling you to keep edging yourself. As you watch the number of tips only increase, your toes curl at the indecency of all of this.
"Let's continue, baby. Turn it on, play with yourself."
Hands shaky, you reach for the device again.
This game of cat and mouse continues until you're a crying and begging mess. He finally grants you your release and then rewards you with a short break before continuing. In the next couple of hours, you come three more times and your bones turn to jelly by the end of it. The live reaches its end when he finally hangs up the call and you're all too quick to wrap things up.
When your computer screen goes black and you can see your disheveled state in the reflection, your mind blanks out as you sit in complete silence, the happenings of the evening slowly replaying in your mind.
The money you've earned tonight is more than you could ever imagine and yet there is no happiness or relief bubbling in you. Rather, you feel empty and absolutely numb, the past hours feeling like a fever dream but the ache between your legs tell you they are very painfully real.
The screen of your phone lights up with two notifications, interrupting your trance.
nerdycatboy has sent you 1000$
[nerdycatboy]: a little gift for your hard work
You stare at the screen in silence until it goes black and then some more. It takes a while for you to realize tears are rolling down your cheeks. And then you are full-on sobbing as you hide your face in your hands and weep at the overwhelmingly miserable situation of yours.
When you finally get some sleep it is late into the night and tears are staining your cheeks and your pillowcase.
VIII.
Despite the rough night, you attend your classes the next day, somewhat glad that they are in the evening. You doze through all of it though, tired and way too distracted to pay attention to the lecture.
The tips of your fingers drum continuously against your desk as you wait for the class to be over. Your mind is spiraling; going haywire thinking about the fact that you will be meeting nerdycatboy today.
That is if he keeps his promise.
He hasn't contacted you since last night and given his stalker-ish tendencies, you're sure he knows your schedule. So why hasn't he messaged you yet?
Probably because he played you, silly girl.
You let out a loud sigh, frustrated, exhausted and enraged. How much longer will this match of cat and mouse go on? You have seriously started to consider shutting off your page temporarily because playing this stupid game with the anonymous asshole is proving to be way too much for you to bear.
The lecture finishes at some point while you're stuck inside your head and as you start packing your bags, you receive a text.
It's him.
I'll meet you at the library building in half an hour.
Your head immediately snaps up as your eyes scan the crowd leaving the classroom, a failed attempt to pinpoint him.
Okay, I'll be waiting.
You grab a coffee while waiting for him, your foot tapping the ground incessantly as you come to terms with the fact that you will be seeing him soon. Your misery will finally be over.
Hopefully.
What do you do when you see him? Curse at his face? Hit him? Or say it was nice playing stupid games with you now please leave me alone?
You've no idea. Your nerves leave you feeling jittery and tense as you see the clock hit seven in the evening. Half an hour is almost up so you start walking towards the library building, goosebumps arising on your skin as shivers roll down your spine.
You don't know if it's the chilly evening air or your nerves.
The library closes at six thirty so there is no one around the building now. The sun has long set and the sky is dark now, save for the little bits of orange and pink here and there.
It could be your brain projecting things but the atmosphere feels eerie and you wonder why he chose such an empty place. What does he plan to do with you? He wouldn't have chosen a quiet place unless he had some bad intentions, right?
Stop overthinking, _____. Your brain hisses.
The watch on your hand reads 7:10 now and there's no sign of anybody. Anxious, you shoot him a text, asking where he is and as expected you don't get a reply.
Tired of looking around the area with wide and restless eyes you decide to step inside the building. The ground floor is still unlocked as there are a few storage units here and you make yourself comfortable in the dimly lit hallway, leaning by a small window and focusing on the garden outside to distract yourself.
Seconds pass by with your feet tapping on the tile floor in matching beats. You grow more impatient, repeatedly checking the time and your message to see if it has been read.
Until you hear footsteps.
They echo down the hall as someone enters the building.
You hold your breath and watch the silhouette, your eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.
And your entire world crashes and burns.
It's Jeon Wonwoo, walking towards you.
IX.
The first thing you tell yourself is that this is a coincidence, that he's here to get something from the supply closet. But the idea seems less and less plausible as he keeps walking towards you, his strides determined and only stops a few feet away from you.
You gulp, your entire body frozen as you gape at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something.
Judging from the upturned corners of his lips, your reaction seems to amuse him plenty. He stands there, his hands in his pockets as he watches you with a twinkle in his eyes and says the words you were still praying he wouldn't.
"Hello, little cherry."
X.
Despite expecting those words, the shock that overcomes your system is enough to make you lose your footing as you stumble on your feet, hands reaching for the wall behind you to support yourself.
Your breath comes out in the form of short pants as small beads of sweat gather on your forehead.
You knew, you knew, you knew.
You knew it!
The second you heard his voice yesterday, your subconscious told you it was Wonwoo. You, however, chose to be ignorant, dismissing the idea just as quickly as it appeared.
There was no way it could be Wonwoo. Except it is.
You should be glad it is him, no? After all the man you had imagined in the place of the faceless man was always Wonwoo. He had been the man of your fantasies for the longest time yet the feeling of betrayal and hurt is overwhelming.
Funny, considering that he didn't actually betray you. If anything, you have been betraying yourself.
Wonwoo stands in front of you, still as a statue, hands in his pockets, his stance calmer than a winter evening. His face is blank but there is a glint in his eyes, something between sadistic amusement and cocky satisfaction as he watches you crumble in front of him.
Where is the plain old nerdy Wonwoo?
"Wo-Wonwoo..." You don't know what you are trying to say as you lose your train of thought, dropping abruptly onto the ground. Accidentally, you scrape your index finger by the windowsill but your brain registers no pain due to the overwhelming shock as you simply sit in silence and stare as little drops of blood ooze out of the cut.
God, this is straight out of your worst nightmares.
Or, your darkest, filthiest fantasies?
Wonwoo, however, seems to spot the drops of red beading on your fingertips which you ignore. He takes slow but determined steps toward you, his footsteps echoing eerily through the empty hallway. When he is right in front of you, he stops before kneeling on one knee as one of his hands reaches for your injured finger.
He watches the little drops of blood ooze through the cut with rapt attention, his dark eyes somehow appearing darker in the dim lights. Then, surprising you, he takes your hand and brings the bleeding finger to his lips, his eyes intently focused on yours as he sucks the little cut. Your breath hitches, half of yourself wanting to yank your hand away from disgust and rage while the majority of you remain paralyzed as the hauntingly mesmerizing scene plays in front of you.
"Be careful now, can't have you getting hurt now, can we, little cherry?" He takes the finger out of his mouth and observes while the corners of his lips lift into an eerie smile that finally manages to bring some heat into your blood as you seize your hand out of his grip.
"Fuck you, asshole! You're fucking sick!" You hiss out the words you never thought you would say to Wonwoo.
Your attack brings an even bigger smile to his lips as he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "Oh little cherry, tell me something I don't know."
You swallow and try to scoot away from him despite the limited space. "Did you have fun bullying me, you sicko?"
"Come on now, _____. Let's not twist the truth. I was not bullying you. We were just playing a game. Besides, I should be the one to ask that." He coos at you, his voice so innocent it makes your brain trip. Tilting his head to a side he keeps stroking your cheek with his fingertips and whispers, "Did you have fun being ordered around by me? By being humiliated? Hm, pretty girl?"
Your eyes widen and you swallow nervously, clenching your hands in tight fists to stop yourself from hitting him.
He chuckles. "It's alright. You don't have to answer that." He stands up, puts his hands in his pockets and stares down at you, tilting his head once more as if you're one fascinating creature. "Because we both know you loved it."
"I didn't!" Your protest is immediate as you muster every bit of strength to stand up and get into his face. "I didn't, you asshole. Don't kid yourself!"
Another pleased smile graces his lips. "Really? You didn't like it every time I called you a good girl? You didn't get more wet every time I told you I'd reward you with my cock?" He inches his face closer to yours, leaving just an inch of a gap.
"Do not kid yourself, _____." His voice drops a pitch as you feel the shift in him, goosebumps breaking on your skin. "You call me names but deep down you know you are a filthy slut and you loved being treated that way."
No. No, you didn't.
Or did you?
"Shut up!" You yell, pushing him with all your might as he stumbles a few steps back. There's a little pause in the air before his eyes meet yours as he pushes his glasses over the bridge of his nose.
"You want me to shut up because you know that it's the truth, _____-"
"Stop psychoanalyzing me!" You hiss, a fresh coat of tears blurring your vision. "Look at yourself, you twisted fucking jerk!"
You push past him as you try to stomp away but his hand catches your arm at the last second, tugging your body close to him. He leans down, his breath hovering on your ear as he whispers. "You better watch your mouth, cherry or I'll show you just how twisted I am. And you might not live to even see through it."
A bucket of ice-cold water seems to wash over you as you realize the gravity of the situation. For the first time since meeting Wonwoo, you're actually scared for your life, especially when you gaze into his pitch black pupils and the little flash of teeth peeking between his lips. Even though his grip on your arm is ironclad, you yank your arm away with all your strength and start running away from him, your heart thudding loudly in your ribcage.
You dash straight out of the library and you only stop until you're in front of a convenience store far enough. Falling on your knees, you catch your breath as you pant heavily, eyes scanning around to make sure he didn't follow you.
A new sense of fear and doom settles over you as you start to realize you might have walked into a situation that may not allow you to get out.
Alive, at least.
What's worse is that a part of you is actually excited.
XI.
Sorry guys, I cannot be doing today's and next week's livestream due to some personal problems. Please understand. Thank you!
You post the notice on your camming page and lean back in your chair, exhaling a loud sigh. The past night has been tiring with the constant struggle of being alert and a dreadful paranoia that won't leave you alone. Jeon the twisted Wonwoo keeps reappearing in your thoughts, haunting you whatever you do.
Within minutes after your post, you get a notification of an inbox and you don't have to see it to know it's the one and only, Jeon psycho Wonwoo.
[nerdycatboy]: Must have really scared you, eh?
You stare at it for a while, thinking of something snarky to reply but nothing comes up so you just decided to ignore it.
He doesn't give up.
[nerdycatboy]: Don't be scared, cherry. We've had so much fun until now. You know it deep down.
Why ignore the obvious?
You sigh, rubbing your temples.
You really need a break from all this. From him.
[you]: Can you leave me alone for one day? Please?
He doesn't text back for a while.
[nerdycatboy]: Since I'm feeling kind, sure. I won't bother you for the next twenty-four hours. We'll talk after you've regained some of your composure and hopefully your senses.
[nerdycatboy]: Because deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.
[nerdycatboy]: Sweet dreams, little cherry.
His message radiates a type of threat the longer you stare at it and your mind starts to go haywire. So you shut your laptop off and lie in your bed in silence, his words repeating over and over in your head like a mantra.
Deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.
Yes, yes you do know that. And you feel absolutely horrible for it. Who in their sane mind would allow an unhinged, deadly man to humiliate and low-key blackmail them online for some twisted form of entertainment?
You, for sure.
Your issues run deep, girl.
You mentally shake your head at the situation. If you're attracted to a man like that there has to be something wrong with you, no? But what is worse is deep down, you don't want to stop. You want to push and push and take it to the very end, extremely curious to see what is in store for you with Wonwoo.
Nothing dull, for sure.
And as if you needed more proof; you end up seeing the man even in your dreams, where he does unspeakably filthy things to you and you only beg for more.
XII.
Sunday afternoon, when you're done soaking in the tub for a good hour while enjoying a much needed glass of wine, you sit on your robe and do your skincare when your doorbell rings.
You're confused because you aren't expecting anyone. However, when you peer into the peephole your confusion flips into terror and panic as you see Wonwoo standing.
You must be seeing things, right?
No, you realize, once you double check.
What do you do now? Pretend you're not at home? Tell him to fuck off? Call the police?
You're being too dramatic, your subconscious rolls her eyes.
But your emotions are valid because you have been ignoring texts from the man. True to his words he gave you just twenty four hours before starting to send you messages again that you were too overwhelmed and cowardly to open. Now you're realizing what a horrible decision that was.
Shaking off the thoughts you straighten up and square your shoulders, taking a deep breath as you open the door.
Wonwoo stands there, looking unfairly good, dressed in a plain loose white tee and dark blue jeans, his black hair falling messily on his forehead, a few strands lying on top of his steel-framed glasses.
You briefly wonder if you have a glasses kink, if there is even such a thing.
He stands there looking so boyfriend material, it devastates you, making you wonder if this is an alternate universe where you're a 'normal' couple.
Because he definitely doesn't look like a sadistic, anti-social, slightly psycho nutjob right now. And it messes up your brain chemistry badly.
"Hi," your voice is akin to a mouse squeaking as you feel hot all over.
"Hello, _____." His voice is so sinfully deep.
Why is acting so normal? Like he's a classmate here to do an assignment with you?
"I... wasn't expecting you..." You stumble over your words.
"You weren't replying to my messages so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Make sure you're okay, you know? Our last meeting really shook you up."
You really can't tell if he's teasing you or being genuine but the delusional part of you takes it as a genuine effort.
"May I come in?"
"Of course!" You blink, moving to make way for him. He walks past you, leaving a trail of his cologne wafting in the air that creates a sudden urge within you to grab onto him and sniff him like a dog.
Yeah, you have serious issues.
You follow him awkwardly as he looks around your small space.
"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee...water?" Somehow offering him wine right now doesn't feel appropriate.
"Tea, please. Black."
Why is he being so...nice? So normal? Is this the climax of his games? Murdering you in your own home after sweet talking you? After making you drop your guards? You shake your head at the possibility and watch the kettle as it heats the water, waiting for him to initiate a conversation which he doesn't.
This is suffocating.
When you offer him the steaming mug he murmurs a thanks and then asks, "Where's your setup? I'd like to see it."
Uh oh.
"Uhm," you fiddle with your fingers, suddenly nervous. "It's in my bedroom."
"Mind giving me a tour?" His face doesn't give away any malicious intent but then again, he has always been great at keeping a blank face. If anything, he genuinely sounds curious.
Sighing, you guide him to your bedroom. The room is decent size with your bed on one side and your setup on the other. It's nothing fancy, just your pc and your huge, comfortable chair.
"When I film I put up a screen behind me and turn on some lights, you know," you mumble trying to fill the void. He looks around carefully before casually taking a seat on your bed and sipping on his tea.
"It's pretty. Like you, little cherry." His eyes connect with yours and your skin breaks out in goosebumps.
He's so... attractive. Everything about him. His looks, his voice, his attitude, his low-key psychotic persona.
"Take a seat, I won't bite." He says, his signature smirk finally appearing as you shudder before tentatively sitting next to him on your bed, still keeping a few inches of space.
"How did you find my address?" You ask softly.
He shrugs, drinking his tea, "Did some snooping around."
Not surprising. Not unlikely of him either.
"Have you thought about what I said, little cherry? About what you really want?" He asks, his voice a deep timbre as he sets down the mug on your bedside table.
Oh boy, we're not beating around the bush.
"Are you seriously here to talk about that?"
"Answer my question." The way he says those words make you weak in the knees.
"Yes," you swallow, not breaking eye contact with him. A pleased smile graces his soft pink lips and you're hit with the sudden temptation of kissing them.
"And what is your conclusion?" He asks, leaning closer to you, his scent making your brain hazy. One of his fingers traces over your cheekbone and then past your jaw to your neck.
It's electrifying.
''W-what if I want nothing to do with you?" You whisper. He laughs quietly before whispering in your ear, "That is not an option because we both know that's the last thing you want, little girl."
Little girl. Your insides swoon.
His face is now inches apart from yours, his fingers caressing your cheek oh so softly as he watches you with those dark, seductive eyes of his.
It doesn't take a second for you to make your decision.
"Will...will you kiss me, Wonwoo?" You croak.
He arches a surprised brow before smiling in great pleasure as he leans back to watch you. "You are always a surprise, _____. Only if you say please."
"Please."
"Good girl," he praises and that's almost enough to make you come. He wastes no time, cupping both of your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. Fireworks go off in your head. Your hands move to clutch his shoulders and a soft needy moan escapes your lips when you feel how solid they are.
Holy mother of gods, you need to get dicked down by him.
Immediately.
Wonwoo's tongue explores every bit of your mouth as his hands grab your jaw and neck tighter, his body shuffling close to deepen the kiss. You become a puppet and let him play with you as you melt in his arms, letting him lead however he wants to.
When you two break apart you're panting heavily. Wonwoo watches you with glinting eyes, his pink lips slightly swollen like yours as his thumb traces over your lips. You subconsciously open them and he pushes his thumb in, making you suck on his digit.
You do so eagerly, not breaking eye contact with him. Heat pools in your belly as his nostrils flare and he grunts. "You're a wicked little minx you know that, little cherry?"
I can be whatever you need, you inwardly purr as you give him a particular hard suck before he takes it back.
"You want my cock? Is that what you're trying to say?" He questions, standing up and tilting your chin to meet his gaze.
You can only nod, breathless with anticipation.
"I need words, ______. You're not mute." His voice is commanding, and scolding, which makes you even wetter.
"Please fuck me, Wonwoo."
He grins. An evil, victorious grin.
"Good girl. Stand up." You do so and he tugs the belt on your robe, making it fall open in a fluid motion. Your hands move to cover yourself but he glares at you in warning, making you stop halfway.
"Don't be shy now." He whispers, letting the material fall off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked. "I've seen this pussy on camera already, no?"
You swallow as his fingers trace between your legs and then easily slips one finger in due to your wetness. You sigh in pleasure while he lets out a satisfied hum.
"Tell me," he cups your pussy, thumb stroking your clit as you shudder. "How many men have touched this before me?"
You shake your head. "N-no one."
He tilts his head, a wry smile on his face. "Are you telling me I'm your first, baby?"
You nod, slightly shaking.
"Fuck, you just made me ten times harder. I'm gonna have much more fun defiling you now."
You gulp, stuck in a trance as you let him guide you back to bed with a hard push. You land on your back and watch Wonwoo take his tee off and boy, is that a sight. Your thighs automatically press together when his sculpted body comes into view and the sight of his broad shoulders makes you clutch the bedsheets in a tight fist.
However, something catches your eye; a patch of scarred skin right on his left abdomen, spreading from the front to his back and if you had to guess you'd say it is a burn mark. You don't get to think about it long because he's distracting you with a kiss.
"Like what you see?" He's cocky.
You nod, eyes settling on the bulge in his jeans, waiting for him to take it off so that you can see the object of your desires.
Alas, he has other plans for you.
"Open your legs, little cherry."
They fall apart on command as Wonwoo gets comfort between them, one of his hands trailing over your breasts and your belly while the other softly strokes your sopping wet core. It's embarrassing how easily he can slip two fingers deep inside you. "So fucking wet, you dirty whore." He muses with a smirk.
God, you love his voice.
Your moans rise in pitch as his fingers develop a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you in precise, perfect movements. Your release is so close you can taste it.
Automatically, your hips rise off the bed as your body tilts itself upward for a little stimulation on your clit. Wonwoo takes notice of it and laughs, "Aw, little whore is gonna come so soon? You want me to do this?"
The brush of the pad of his finger is enough to set you off as you scream and let your release wash over you. Your toes curl as you fist the sheets hard enough to almost rip them, riding out your high while he continues to plunge his digits in and out of you.
Once you finally get to catch your breath, he pulls them out and pops the fingers in his mouth, making a show of licking them.
You shudder, your body preparing for another round as moisture gathers between your legs once again.
"Fucking delicious." He grins, making you heat up all over. There is nowhere to hide, your whole body on display for him and he doesn't mask his appreciation as he drinks up every naked inch of you with a devouring gaze.
"Please, f-fuck me," you're not shy about begging as the need for his cock worsens.
"Oh I will," he promises, taking off his glasses and setting them down on your bedside table. Without much thinking your fingers trail over his chiseled abdomen and then down, over the tent of his pants as you fiddle with the button, trying to open it. Wonwoo amuses you for a while before batting your hand away, glaring at you. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"
You bite your lip and shake your head no.
"That's right." His voice is calm as he watches you for a few beats, hungry eyes trained on your lips before his right hand suddenly comes to wrap around your throat.
Your breath stutters as you watch him, wide eyed.
"Touch me again without permission and you won't be coming anytime soon." He threatens, tightening the grip on your throat as your airflow gradually decreases, making you feel fuzzy. You should be scared for your life, but you aren't, instead, the action only makes you wetter as you rub your thighs and mewl and beg with your eyes to ease the ache.
He listens.
Letting you go, he gets off the bed and takes off his pants and boxers, while your brain and lungs catch up due to the lack of oxygen. You blink and gulp when you see how blessed he is in length and girth, your breathing irregular.
Smirking at your reaction, he gets back on the bed and traps you beneath him, amusement and satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "I don't think you'll need any more prepping," he muses, trailing his fingers to your pussy and dipping one in the collect your arousal. You vehemently shake your head yes.
He laughs. "Hungry for cock, slut?"
"Y-yes." You whisper, breathless, wide eyed, needy.
Wonwoo leans down to nip on your jaw and your neck as he aligns himself with your entrance. Then, a thought comes to you.
"We... don't have a condom..."
"I'm clean, little cherry. Besides, there's no way I'd not take this virgin cunt bare." His words are vile and his smile is diabolical, sending shivers down your spine. It's alarming how attractive you find his insanity.
"Hold on to me. Bite my shoulder if it hurts too much." That's all the warning you get and not enough time to process as he shoves his cock inside you in one go. A loud wail erupts from your throat as tears burn your eyes, your nails digging into Wonwoo's biceps as you cling to him for dear life.
"So fucking tight." His voice is hoarse as he remains still for a few seconds, letting you catch your breath. The pain of the stretch doesn't ease up but the man on top of you isn't too bothered. He starts thrusting, slow, small thrusts at first as you rest your head in the crook of his neck and hold him tight, breathing harshly.
Soon, his pace increases, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars and your toes curl. Feeling you tighten around him, he chuckles, "You like that? You like it when I hit here?" He punctuates by thrusting you right there once again and you scream.
"Yes! Harder!"
He scoffs. "Such a slut. How did you survive so long without a dick shoved up inside you, huh?" He leans back, prying your body off of him and grabs both your cheeks in one hand, puckering your lips. "Want it harder? Say please."
"P-please," you manage to utter despite his strong grip on your jaw. Your cheeks ache from how hard he grabs you but you're once again surprised by how much the pain turns you on.
"Open your mouth," he commands, intense eyes trained on you, his pace never faltering. You are not going to last very long, you realize.
You follow his command and open your mouth as he eases his grip and stunning you, he spits right into your mouth.
"Swallow it, little whore." He orders, making your pussy clench deliciously. You once again do as you're told.
"You loved that, didn't you?" He scoffs. "You are a real treat, little cherry. You're fucking perfect." His hands wrap around your throat, almost as leverage as his pace becomes wild, driving in and out of you so fast, the bed starts shaking.
"I'm..gonna come." You whisper. The pressure building inside you is about to burst and you can't hold it any longer. Not resuming his pace or bothering to acknowledge your words, Wonwoo keeps on going while slithering a hand down to your core, where he flicks your clit before roughly pinching it.
You go off like a rocket.
The pleasure is mind-numbing, making you arch off the bed with a wail. It's like a tsunami of pleasure has crashed onto you and it only amplifies when you feel him swell inside you before releasing himself. Your pussy is coated with warm bursts of his cum as your body continues to shake, still riding the wave of your high.
You feel him pull out, his cum trickling out of your spent hole as you still float back down to earth and before you can let out a sigh of relief that it is over, he's spreading your legs as wide as they can go, getting you in a spread eagle position.
"Keep your legs like that, slut." He commands, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and fierce that once again lights up the fire in your core.
What has this man done to you?
You're insatiable, riding a never ending lust filled high as you watch the insanely hot man on top of you. His hair is messier now and there's a light sheen of sweat on his body that only adds to the appeal.
You don't know if you want to devour him or be devoured by him.
"I'm not done with you yet." He murmurs, watching you with dark eyes as he strokes his cock. "Look at your blood on my cock, little cherry. Isn't that a sight?" He grins, flashing his teeth.
Goosebumps rake down your spine.
"I always loved blood but having you bleed on my cock? This is just incomparable, sweetheart." He pushes a couple of his fingers coated in your blood and his cum and shoves them into your mouth. You're all too eager to lick them clean without a second of delay.
Your tongue dances on his digits, licking them clean and tasting the metallic, bitter flavor before he pops them off your lips. Then, once again leaving you flabbergasted, he slaps you on the right cheek. It doesn't hurt bad but it stings and you're ashamed of how much you liked it.
The evil smile is back on his face. "You like that?" He smacks your other cheek and you nod eagerly. At this point you realize, there's nothing this man can do to you that you wouldn't like.
"You're an absolute fucking piece, little cherry. I'm so glad I snatched you up. Couldn't let any other man have you, could I?"
He kisses your jaw before moving towards your neck, sniffing as he goes. "You smell so addictive. So... mine." He muses as he sucks on the tender spot on your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.
"Please, Wonwoo..." You are desperate and your legs hurt from staying wide open. The plea reaches his ears as he sits back and puts his fingers in his mouth, wetting them before shoving them inside your sore yet throbbing pussy. He plunges them in and out for a while, pushing his cum back inside you and watching with a smirk how your mouth falls open in pleasure.
And then he thrusts himself in. You know this time it is gonna be quick with his extra fast movements as he holds your calves for leverage and pounds in and out of you restlessly. You're on the brink of losing your sanity with how good he feels, unceremonious moans and gasps continuously leaving your mouth.
Suddenly a smack graces you on the cheek, making your body jerk and pussy tighten. It takes a while to realize Wonwoo has slapped you again and once you do so, you eagerly wait for another. Unlike last time, your cheek heats up from the force and you can actually feel the flesh burn but gosh, do you not love it any less.
"Dirty fucking slut. Letting me treat you however I want. You love it, no? You love the pain?" He hisses, brows furrowed as his pace starts to falter. You nod eagerly moving your hips against his, desperately chasing your end.
Two punctuated thrusts on your g-spot and you come without any warning. Once again, you feel like you're launched into outer space as your entire body jerks, leaving you gasping for air. Wonwoo releases himself all over your stomach and tits this time, soft groans of pleasure falling from his lips.
It's addictive.
Everything about this man is addictive.
He is the sweetest form of darkness, here to drag you down to hell with him. And you have no complaints.
That is your last coherent thought before you fall into a peaceful slumber.
XIII.
The next day, Wonwoo sits next to you in class, acting like his usual self, like he didn't blow your back out last night. He stays mostly quiet and keeps to himself, focusing on the lecture and taking notes. However, underneath the desk, his hand holds your thigh in a possessive grip, his fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh.
It is safe to say you don't get to focus much on the lesson.
After the class, you and Wonwoo grab a cool drink and sit on one of the benches laid throughout the campus field.
You are still processing the events of last night and seeing how he hasn't mentioned it even once, you wonder if it was all your imagination.
No, it was all too real to be untrue.
As you sit next to him and chew on your straw, you wonder how you should approach the subject. Wonwoo, who has been silently enjoying his drink suddenly speaks, just as you get your thoughts together. It, however, is the last thing you expected him to say.
"Did I ever tell you about how I murdered a man?"
Your body turns into a block of ice as you whip your head towards Wonwoo, who sits with his elbows resting on his knees, an impassive look on his face. Silently, you blink a few times, waiting, just to make sure you didn't hear him wrong.
He is kidding.
Right?
He tilts his head to face you, a wry chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head at your expression. "Come on now, little cherry, don't look so shocked."
You cough and look away, a lame attempt to mask your expression. "I don't want to know anything I should not know." You murmur, looking down at the ground. "Besides, you're joking, right?"
"No, I'm not." He laughs a little, before exhaling loudly. "I also doubt you'd tattle on me. Who would fuck you so good like last night if I went to jail?"
His words make you squirm in your seat.
"Besides, it's a really interesting story. One I've never told anyone before."
Should you feel honored?
Wonwoo seems to take your silence as a yes because he starts narrating. "Once upon a time, there was a man. An alcoholic, pathetic excuse of a man who did terrible things to a woman, my mother. I was very young when it started. He'd beat the shit out of her for every little reason. It would only get worse when he got drunk, which was more often than not. Sometimes he'd lock her up in the basement and keep her naked and unfed. One time, when I was about ten years old, he broke every finger on her right hand just because the dinner wasn't served on time."
You have stopped breathing by now, as you sit in absolute silence, your limbs immobile as if you are paralyzed. You have a very good idea of where this story is going and how it might end. That should make you want to get up and leave but you just can't bring yourself to, as you sit mute and take occasional tentative peeks at the man next to you.
"That was the first time I stood up to him. My mother had passed out from the pain and I yelled at him and pushed him which made him take it out on me too. He hadn't hit me ever before. But that night, he kept on going till the dawn, as if making up for all the times he didn't."
He falls silent for a few moments and you take a chance to peek at him. As always, it's impossible to read him, his face an emotionless canvas and his eyes emptier than a desert, lost somewhere in his dark memories. You can't help but wonder if he feels any pain or remorse as he recalls his traumatic past. If he does, how can he mask it so well?
"Six months after that, my mother fell off the roof of our building. The police concluded it as suicide because they found out she was drunk. But she wasn't."
"The night before, as always, the pathetic loser came home drunk and smashed things around for a while. There was a ruby necklace that my grandmother gave to my mother when she got married. That night, he was asking for it because he needed immediate cash and my mother wouldn't give it. She probably had enough because that was the only night she stood up against him and she protested hard. I remember her smashing a bottle on his head. Of course, he wouldn't let that slide but something was different about him that night. He was more despairing, more evil. He slapped her around a few times before choking her until she passed out. I can still hear his words in my head.
I'll get rid of you tonight bitch.
I'll get rid of you for good."
He then took out a bunch of booze and ordered her to drink them, saying that if she resisted, I'd get the beatings. She obeyed him and I only watched, as I always did and he kept forcing her to drink till she couldn't utter a coherent word or couldn't even remain seated. Once she passed out from all the booze he came to me and patted my head. With the evilest of smiles, he said,
"Go to your room. You don't need to learn everything so early."
"Then he locked me in his bedroom and didn't let me go until the morning. By then the police had come and removed her body. Those imbeciles decided it was suicide and ended the investigation just like that.
I could have told them that it was a murder but I didn't. My mother's death stunned me so much that I couldn't speak for the next few months and the asshole used it to his advantage. He acted like the best father and husband in front of the police but then came and took out all his anger and frustration on me."
He finally pauses to take a look at you and your face must have been an open book because he chuckles, "Why do you look so pale already? I haven't even gotten to the best part yet."
You want to tell him that you look pale not because of the story but because you feel sad for the fucked up man sitting next to you and his fucked up childhood. Even though he has yet to reveal how his father died you have already convinced yourself that he deserved it.
"A year went by like that." Wonwoo continues. "My mother was gone and I was the new punching bag for the asshole. He'd beat me up almost every day but he wasn't that dumb. He would never hit me in the face because I went to school and people could ask questions. I endured it all, in fact, I might have even started to crave it. I started to think I deserved it and so I took it...until one afternoon. I had just gotten home from school. He was sitting in the living room, drinking and watching TV. He seemed to be in an okay mood so I showed him my report card and asked him to sign it so that I could submit it the next day. He was quiet for a while until he saw my marks in English.
He took a bottle of booze and poured it all over my report card, saying a loser like me is better off without one. Something snapped inside of me and I yelled at him. So he broke that bottle on my head and stuffed that wet report card into my mouth and started beating me up.
After he was done he told me to get him a glass of water and go out to buy more beer for him. There was a nearby store that knew us and let me purchase alcohol. At that moment I made a split-second decision. I went to the kitchen, grabbed some rat poison and mixed it in his water before giving it to him. When he passed out I went back into the kitchen and pulled out the gas pipe and turned the knob open, letting it leak all over. I then lit a match and watched as the entire house caught on fire in seconds. I got burned too, as you can tell from the scars you saw last night. I ran out and sat on the other side of the road, just watching the fire spread. The thought of him burning alive in there brought me so much pleasure that I forgot my own pain.
It was right after noon and we lived in a relatively deserted area so it took a while for people to find out and call the police. They never suspected me because why would a twelve year old set his house on fire? The neighbors also testified that the asshole was an alcoholic so the police concluded it as another accident."
He concludes with a loud exhale. Turning his head to face you, he smirks wryly, "And that's how I successfully got away with my first murder."
You are left with a loss of words so you just give him a shaky nod and stare down at your legs, trying to process everything.
A few beats of silence seem to pass before Wonwoo reaches for your chin and uses it to tilt your face up. He smirks, "Scared of me now, aren't you?"
You sigh, gently removing your chin from his grip. "No, Wonwoo, I'm not. You did what you had to survive. It's admirable how you held on for so long."
For the first time, you see an emotion vividly on his face; shock. His eyes widen and his lips part to a little 'o' as he gapes at you, stunned. His reaction evokes some sort of longing within yourself as you reach for his hand and hold it between yours. "I am not scared of you because there is nothing to be. You were a little boy and you had gone through so much. It's fucked up but you did it to survive and you've come so far-"
"I don't want your pity and I don't want you to psychoanalyze me." He hisses, cutting you off as he yanks his hand away from your grip. You can see the fierce anger in his gaze so you shake your head.
"I am not pitying you and neither am I psychoanalyzing you. Trust me, I am in no position to do that. Especially because I believe that that man was an absolute piece of garbage and he deserved what you have done to him, if not worse. I would have done the same, Wonwoo, long ago. You held on for so long. That makes you a survivor, not a bad guy."
Your words seem to sink into him as he remains quiet, watching you with careful yet wondrous eyes. You sigh, realizing that he probably isn't believing you so you decide to give him, and yourself, some space.
Just as you stand up, he yanks you down by your hand, making you fall awkwardly onto his lap. Then, before your brain can catch up, he kisses you, rough and fast.
His lips smash with yours as he holds a strong grip on your neck, angling your face to his advantage. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, colliding with yours as your body goes lax and you give into him. It's like an aphrodisiac— his kiss, his touch, that makes you lose your guard as you fall deeper and deeper into an abyss.
When he pulls back, you are both panting heavily for air. "Do you realize what you just said?" He grunts, those fox-like eyes staring at you making your toes curl and your insides swirl. In a daze, you hum, "Hmm?"
"You'd make a great accomplice for a murder, no?" He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip while you keep staring at his lips. All coherent thoughts and senses have left your body long ago as you find yourself swimming in the sweetest poison that is Wonwoo.
"More." You breathe.
He smirks, that evil, confident smirk of his that makes your panties wet. Once again, he starts moving before you can process anything, dragging you behind him and straight to one of the storage rooms in a nearby building. You follow him blindly and as soon as the door is locked, he pins you against the wall and between himself, effectively trapping you. Yet, there is nowhere you want to escape to.
"You are an enigma, you know that, little cherry?" He whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw as his hands work on unbuttoning your top. He quickly takes it off along with your bra before taking a step back and yanking your skirt down. The zipper on the waist lets out a groan of protest that falls onto your deaf ears as you remain too busy ogling the ungodly hot man in front of you.
"Take me out."
Your body is on autopilot as you immediately undo his belt and pull down the zipper.
"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. Wrap your legs around me." He commands as one of his hands holds you below your thigh while the other positions himself on your entrance.
And before you can blink, he's inside you. The initial stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud gasp of pain but it's quick to dull. One of his hands covers your mouth, his dark eyes indicating you to remain silent while he starts to move in and out of you.
Oh boy, is it hard to remain silent.
Especially, when you can feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you ruthlessly, making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.
"Gosh, you're such a slut, letting me fuck you against a wall, in a store room." Wonwoo grits, a twisted smirk on his lips as his gaze roams over your face leisurely. "What if someone comes in right now, huh? What if they see you bouncing your pretty ass on my cock?"
"Mmph," you try to moan, the image sending short circuits to your brain. Wonwoo chuckles, loving your reaction. "You'd like that, won't you? You're one filthy little slut, my cherry." He grins after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl.
"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, touch me."
The man only smiles, a cruel, mocking smile as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall behind you before thrusting once, twice, so hard that your back starts aching. Though you can't bring yourself to complain because the next moment his release is filling you up, making you moan unceremoniously.
When you think he's now gonna help you get off, the man only releases you and starts fixing himself up leaving you panting against the wall awkwardly, with the worst ache between your legs.
"W-what about me?" You croak.
"Sluts don't get to come so easily." Wonwoo smirks, throwing a look your way before walking out of the storeroom. You slide down the wall, absolutely livid, the urge to punch something growing very intense.
Something like his face.
That goddamn infuriating man!
Maybe you should just get yourself off.
"And don't think about touching yourself without me. I'll know if you do and trust me, you don't wanna make me mad." His head pops back in as he opens the door to warn you before disappearing once again.
"Fuck!" You're screaming now. "Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo!"
XIV.
Over time, you start to grow close to Wonwoo. Definitely closer than you'd expect to be with a person like him. It also doesn't help that you have a silly little crush on him and every little thing he does makes your heart flutter. Like the way he'd always put the helmet on you carefully before riding on his bike, brush your hair away from your face with soft fingers, and pull you closer to his body when you walk down a busy sidewalk.
Jeon Wonwoo was in no way boyfriend material but his little gestures, which he probably did thoughtlessly made you think he was the perfect man for you.
While things were going breezy with Wonwoo, a new problem seems to have appeared. Jacob Lee, a classmate of yours has been on your tail nonstop for the past few days, acting all friendly and touchy with you when in reality you've never spoken to him before, only seen him around the campus.
And speaking of the devil, he appears, just as you are finishing up your study session in the library one afternoon.
"_____!" His voice makes you sigh exasperatedly. "Hey! I was looking for you!"
You give him a fake smile and instead focus on packing your stuff, knowing Wonwoo will be here soon. He has asked you to stay overnight at his place for a class project but you doubt how much you'll be working on that project.
The thought of his hands all over you makes you embarrassingly excited.
"I sent you a friend request last night, didn't you see?"
Yes, and I'm not interested. You give me the creeps.
Which was the truth. You have heard a few rumors about Jacob, not good things for sure and the way he approaches you, invading your personal space like a bulldozer certainly makes you wary of him.
"Ah really? I'm not quite active these days. Projects and all, you know?" You try to avoid eye contact with him as he takes the seat right next to you, leaning much too close for your liking. "And...I don't really accept requests unless they're my close friends."
"Heyyy," he nudges your arm, a huge grin on his face. "How can we become close friends unless you accept my request?"
Oh god.
You sigh, internally rolling your eyes as you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "You know, I'm in a hurry, actually. Wonwoo is waiting for me-"
"Is he your boyfriend?"
"What?" You blink, albeit stunned.
"Are you dating Wonwoo?" He asks, his tone sharp, as he stands up and steps closer to you, brows knotted in a frown.
Seriously, what is up with this guy?
"Why do you ask?" You question instead.
He rolls his eyes. Instead of answering you, he speaks, "He's a boring dude. If you really need a man you should let me—"
"Yes, she's dating me." Wonwoo interrupts all of a sudden. You spin around to find him standing behind you, a very annoyed look on his face as he glowers at Jacob. If looks could kill he'd be dead by now.
His hand wraps around your waist, tugging you next to his body and you can't help but swoon a little as you melt in his embrace. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and sigh giddily.
The comfort and safety his arms provide are astounding.
"It doesn't really matter if you say I'm boring because she seems to find me interesting enough," Wonwoo says, his tone challenging, dark eyes focused on Jacob whose face now appears grim.
"Since we have established that she's mine," he emphasizes his words by tugging you even closer, "You should keep your hands to yourself and mind your business, hmm? Being nosy can get you hurt, you know."
Jacob's lips are pressed into a thin line as he glares at Wonwoo who ignores him and turns around, tugging you with him as you both walk out of the library.
As soon as you are outside, you step out of his arms and raise a brow at the man. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"That? You were like...staking your claim or something."
"I was. You're mine." He says simply.
Heat blooms throughout your face. Butterflies run wild in your stomach.
Damn.
"Whatever," you try to play it cool by rolling your eyes and pushing past him. Wonwoo, however, grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms and whispers in your ear.
"You don't seem to agree, little cherry. Let's go home so that I can show just how much you are mine." His knuckles trail over your jaw, then down your neck before grabbing it, a predatory glint in his eyes.
You can't stop the satisfied grin from appearing on your face as you scream on the inside.
XV.
"Hey, I'm really sorry about the last day." A voice says from behind you and you turn around to find Jacob standing rather awkwardly.
You are going through your notes in the library when you are interrupted.
Raising a brow of confusion, you blink at him.
Jacob scratches his head. "Uh...I overstepped that day, you know. You're obviously a couple and I was trying to overstep my boundaries. I'm really sorry about that."
Well, that's a development.
"It's alright." You give him a small smile. "And thank you for apologizing."
"It's all good if you've accepted my apology." He smiles. "Also, I was hoping you could do me a favor?"
"Sure?" You say, not quite sure.
"You see, I'm having a bit of a problem with the latest assignment. Could you help me with that, please? Just take a look at my draft?" He chuckles nervously, as if ashamed. "After all, the professor did say that you had the best research paper among all of us."
Ah.
"Yeah, sure I can help you with that."
"Great! Thanks a lot, ____. Could you perhaps come with me to my car? My notes are in there. Just take a quick look and I'll let you be on your way."
You nod as you pack your belongings and follow him to the parking lot behind the library. Once you two are in front of your car, Jacob holds the door open for you, motioning you to get inside. You raise a confused brow at him.
There is a shift in him as he suddenly produces a knife from his pocket and holds it against your stomach. He grits in your ear, "Now be a good girl and get in the car, ______. Try to do anything to attract any attention and ill fucking gut you."
"Jacob, please-''
"Get in the fucking car, _____. And lock the door once you are inside."
Shaking, you do as you are told and watch him get inside the driver's seat.
"Why are you doing this?" You whisper.
"Why do you think, cherry?" He spits. His words dump a bucket of ice cold water all over you as you come to the realization.
He knows. He fucking knows. He knows your secret.
"That's right, _____." The smirk on his face is cruel. "I randomly came across your channel one night. Of course, I didn't know it was you at first. But after a little bit of observing and putting things together, it wasn't hard to figure you out. And my suspicions were fully confirmed when your nerd of a boyfriend found your identity and started blackmailing you."
Oh my god.
A small, devastated gasp leaves your lips, making Jacob laugh. "Yeah. I saw you two that evening. I know everything, little cherry. All your dirty little secrets. But what I hate is that you let him have you, calling that dumb guy your boyfriend and whatnot, but you won't give me a chance? That's not fair, baby."
"You fucking stalker! You son of a-"
"Shut up!" He booms, holding the knife right in front of your eye. "You're going to shut the fuck up and let me have all the fun tonight, hmm? You're a slut, _____. Reading filthy things, showing yourself off on the internet and now you're acting like a prude in front of me? I can't tolerate that baby, I need a taste of you."
Oh god. You're going to throw up.
In a moment's decision, you try to attack him, reaching for his face and poking him in the eye while scratching his cheek. A struggle ensues while you try to writhe and kick out of his grasp but he's stronger, effectively holding you.
"Just go to sleep, little bitch. I'll take good care of you." He snickers, making your heart drop.
Oh no no no...
He smacks you in the back of the head twice with the butt of his knife, making your vision go blurry and your head spin. Your last thought is that you are doomed now.
XVI.
The back of your head is throbbing when you wake up. It takes a good few moments to get your brain and eyes to function and when you are somewhat coherent, you realize your wrists are tied together behind you, as you remain in a half laid position. Your whole body feels sore and taut as if you've been thrown around roughly.
"Finally, you're awake baby." The dreadful voice speaks. You tilt your head, despite the pain, to look at Jacob who is looming over you, smiling, a sick kind of excitement dancing in his eyes.
Your throat which was already parched, goes even drier.
"You're fucking sick." You croak, a jolt of pain going through your ribs as you try to move your body.
A slap lands on your cheek from nowhere, forcing you to fall on your side as you whine in pain.
"I told you to shut the fuck up!" He's yelling. "Do you know how hard it was to carry your body all the way here? I had to put you in the trunk, for fucks sake!" He complains, making you roll your eyes. "It would all have been fine if you'd just shut up and complied with me!"
He then grabs you by your hair, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. "I had to wait for the last hour for you to gain consciousness, baby. Despite my thoughts, I just couldn't get hard when you were lying still."
He says those words with a mock pout as if that's the most unfortunate thing in the world and your blood boils. "Fuck you, dickhead. I doubt your thing gets hard at all."
That earns you another slap, and another, followed by a lot of screaming and cursing from him.
You tune them out, trying to conjure a way out of this hell. The first person you think of is Wonwoo and your heart starts to ache. His classes should be done by now. Is he looking for you? Is he worried? Given his possessiveness, he definitely should be looking for you by now.
You only wish you had your phone somewhere nearby.
You look around the place, trying to spot anything that may distract this sicko and aid you with your escape. Unfortunately, this feels like an abandoned building and the only thing lying around are pieces of wood, splinters and a few metal rods. Which would serve as a good weapon, only if your hands were untied.
An idea forms in your head.
"I need to pee." You grunt, making Jacob raise a brow.
"Well then, do it." He shrugs before smiling. "You'll need to take your pants off anyway for what I'm about to do to you. Want me to help you with them, baby?"
So that definitely backfired.
Jacob approaches you, hands reaching for the button on your jeans as you writhe in protest, trying to crawl away from him. Your sore ribs protest heavily but you struggle against his grip, which only tightens the harder you protest.
You are so fucked.
"The more you fight, the harder I get, baby." He snickers in your ears, making you want to throw up.
Jacob manages to unbutton your jeans and as he is pulling down your zipper, you land a kick on his shin, making him fall on his ass with a grunt. His eyes flash dangerously at you.
"Maybe I should tie your legs too, huh? Just let me take these jeans off."
"Get your hands off of her. Right. Now." There's a sudden voice.
You both turn your head to find Wonwoo, to your utter relief, standing there, a menacing look on his face as his eyes bore into Jacob.
"Let her go." His voice is quiet.
To others, it may sound flat but you know Wonwoo and you know the look in his eyes very well. A shiver rolls down your spine and you try once again to loosen the ropes tying your wrists. If you aren't free soon, things are gonna get messy.
"The big bad boyfriend is here to save the day, no?" Jacob scoffs, swaying the knife around in his hand. "Whatcha gonna do, boyfriend?"
"You wouldn't wanna know." Wonwoo gives him a cold smile that gives even you, goosebumps. You try to mediate the situation. "Jacob, please, listen to me. This doesn't have to be like this. Just let me go and we can pretend this never happened."
"Shut up, you whore! I'm getting a taste of you today and I don't care whether it's next to your boyfriend's rotting corpse!" He screeches, pointing the knife at you.
Mentally, you shake your head.
This really isn't gonna end well.
A grunt echo through the air and it takes a few seconds for your fuzzy brain to realize that Wonwoo has punched Jacob. The latter tumbles onto the floor, groaning loudly, "You fucking asshole! You broke my nose!"
Wonwoo's face remains blank as he repeatedly keeps kicking Jacob's torso, not even letting him get up. When he's gasping for air, he steps back to take a good look at him before walking to the side and picking up a metal rod.
In the meantime, Jacob manages to stand up on wobbly legs and his eyes widen when he sees Wonwoo pick up the weapon. "You fucking psychopath. You really wanna die today, huh?" He scoffs before charging toward Wonwoo, the knife in his hand aiming for his face. Wonwoo dodges it by leaning back and just as Jacob is passing by him, he grabs his other arm, twisting it roughly before clutching the hand holding the knife.
Jacob yells in pain but doesn't back down and there is a struggle as they both try to overpower each other. Amidst that, the knife in Jacob's hand manages to cut a thin line on Wonwoo's cheek, making him release Jacob and take a few steps back.
Jacob chuckles, his smile looking exceptionally evil as blood runs down his nose and coats his teeth. "I'm gonna have so much fun carving up your pretty face, nerd."
Wonwoo watches him with calculative eyes, a wry, slight smirk on his face as he tilts his head on both sides, popping the veins in his neck.
You watch with bated breath, knowing it's gonna get ugly and it does as Wonwoo charges for Jacob, hitting his head in the first strike with the metal bar. Jacob falls to his knees, cupping the side of his head as a gush of blood flows out. Before he can stand back up, Wonwoo hits him again and again and again, three more times on his head before his body slumps onto the ground, passed out.
But that doesn't make Wonwoo stop as he continues with two more hits and you start yelling. "Wonwoo, stop! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"
He stops and his eyes meet yours. They are absolutely cold and empty, laced with an expression of that's-what-I-was-about-to-do and for a moment you think that he's gonna kill him right in front of you but he doesn't.
Surprising you, he drops the bar on the ground with a loud echo before calmly walking towards you and kneeling down to untie your wrists. You pant heavily, relieved and grateful as your eyes become teary when one of his hand cups your cheek tenderly, his eyes trained on the cut on your lips and the bruise on your cheek.
And to think that this man was being so violent seconds ago.
"Does it hurt badly?" He asks, eyes narrowing on your bruises. You immediately shake your head, not trusting your voice to speak.
You croak, "How did you find me?"
He scoffs. "Little cherry, you should have figured out by now how possessive I am of you." He tilts his head, giving you an isn't-that-obvious look. Yet, you're confused.
"You...you didn't actually put a—"
"Exactly," he smiles, almost proud. "I downloaded a tracker on your phone."
Holy shit. There's a lot to unpack but for now, you are totally grateful. So you just nod and clutch his arms tightly.
Your heart thumps loudly as the man wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you to stand up. The bruises on your body make it hard to do so but you manage with his help and gently he guides you out of the warehouse, picking up your scattered items lying in a corner and putting them in your bag before moving past Jacob's still body.
You turn your head back to observe if he's breathing and you notice the slow rise and fall of his chest, making you sigh in relief.
Wonwoo walks you both out of the compound before coming to a stop underneath a large banyan tree, right where he parked his bike.
"Call a taxi." He says as he hands you your bag. "Go to a hospital. I'll be there soon."
Your heart falls.
"W-what? W-where are you going?" You croak, hands immediately clutching the sleeves of his jacket. His hands gently hold you by the arm, a stark contrast to the look on his face, malicious, ruthless. "You don't leave loose ends, baby."
You almost choke on your saliva.
"Wha-what? No! You-"
His lips press against yours, effectively silencing you. One of his hand cups your cheek while the other laces around your waist, pulling your body next to his. Blindly you follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongue intertwines with his into a passionate kiss. It tastes like temptation, lust and a little bit metallic— from the blood on your lips and even though in the back of your mind you know how wrong this is, it feels like the most right thing of all time.
A while later Wonwoo pulls back as the haze of lust disappears from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.
"Do as you're told, ____. This isn't a request."
It isn't. It's a command.
Yet, as he turns around to head back into the warehouse, you cannot bring yourself to call a taxi. But you also cannot muster up to follow him back inside and watch him finish the job.
Blissful ignorance, as they like to call it.
Besides, there is no crime if there is no witness.
You try to tell yourself that you're staying in case Jacob manages to run away or worse, hurt Wonwoo or in case somebody comes around here.
So you make yourself comfortable underneath the tree and take a seat, even though your sore body protests in pain.
Seconds turn to minutes as they fly by and just like that half an hour is gone. The sky is now overcast with thick clouds, indicating an impending downpour that makes you worry.
There is no sign of Wonwoo yet.
When the first few drops of rain hit the ground, you manage to get yourself up after a little struggle and despite your ribs protesting, you start to take small steps towards the building.
Something must have gone wrong.
But you don't have to go too far because you see a tall figure approaching you from the other end and you realize it's Wonwoo. Your breath stutters as you stay still in your spot, waiting for him to take notice of you and come to you. He seems to be walking while in deep thought as his focus remains on the ground so you call for him.
"Wonwoo!"
His head snaps up as he regards you with wide eyes, standing still for a moment. Then he's running towards you, stepping on little puddles along the way.
"What are you still doing here!" His tone is sharp but you ignore it. Instead, your eyes scan his body for any injuries. He seems to appear fine— disheveled really, but still fine. There is a new cut on his forehead and there are specks of blood all over his face, neck and hands, especially his hands which are completely wet and coated in crimson.
You highly doubt it's his own blood. Still, your hands reach out for him and you find yourself asking, "Are you okay?"
Wonwoo glares at you. "You should have gone to a hospital by now, ____. You're hurt." You shake your head and instead cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the little specks of blood that are yet to wash away despite the pouring rain.
His eyes visibly soften as he sighs and shrugs off his jacket and puts it over your shoulders.
"You're gonna catch a cold." He whispers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body next to him.
"J-Jacob?" You whisper.
His eyes go empty for a few seconds before he gives you a small, evil smile, "I took care of him."
Your heart falls and you swallow, the gravity of the situation dawning on you.
"B-but the body-"
"Lot of wolves in that forest.'' He says, indicating the woods right behind the building. ''They'll finish the body."
He smirks, giving you a look. "I believe Jacob came here drunk and passed out and the wolves took him." He pins you down with a look that makes you shudder.
You're now an accomplice to murder.
Gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger, he tilts your head up. "Hey. Nobody will know...unless you tell them."
That's right. Nobody will know.
With a jerky nod, your eyes meet his and even though your limbs are sore, you lean on your tippy toes and pull his lips onto yours by cupping his cheeks. His lips taste like rain and blood, full of danger but oh so tempting. Your tongues dance in a haze of fiery lust and passion and by the time you two separate, you're a little dizzy.
You should really get to the hospital.
"I won't tell anyone," you whisper, stroking the nape of his neck.
"Because I have nothing to tell. Jacob got eaten by the wolves. It was just an accident, after all." You state, surprised at how calm you are.
A grin spreads across Wonwoo's face, evil, satisfied and proud. You can't also help but smile a little as he captures your lips for a quick kiss before murmuring, "You're perfect, you know that little cherry?"
You swoon. "Maybe you can remind me when we are home. After taking a trip to the hospital, of course."
"Let's go." He holds out his hand and you take it as you both walk to his bike. Blood still stains his fingertips but you don't care as they transfer on your hands too. Instead, you let him slowly guide you away from the building, from that sick asshole who isn't breathing anymore, thankfully.
When you look down your hands entangled with his, a sense of odd comfort settles over you.
Sure, this man is completely unhinged and dangerous but he's also perfect.
Perfect for you.
You're both a little unhinged and that's fine.
What matters is that you are safe now. With him.
Smiling in contentment, you bring your intertwined hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his bruised knuckles.
You are bloody, yet safe.
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a/n: and hence, I chose the name Bloodily Safe! I know it isn't that good but istg I couldn't think of anything else😭. this is, undoubtedly, the darkest fic I've written yet and somewhere in the middle I started questioning whether it'd be a good idea to release this. but the urge to share psycho Wonwoo with y'all won in the end lol. I blame pledis for this, we need an actor Wonwoo in a villain role immediately!!! I've left it as an open ending so I'm here to announce that yes, I am planning on writing another part of this, something like an extended epilogue where we focus more on Wonwoo. their feelings for each other also remain vague here and I've kept it so purposefully. it's up to each of your own interpretation. if you'd like to hear mine, do send an ask. I'm all ready to analyze and discuss our fav psycho wonwoo. also, I've yet to proofread this thoroughly so there might be some errors. that's it from me for now, thank you for taking the time to read this! have a lovely day!
taglist: @exocommunicado-03 @becauseiloveyunho @seyoungparkk @shuabby1994 @reol-0 @therewillalwaysbearainbow @sdoulc @nadiaarzu @dinosolecito @sweetiepiezz @vernonmabae @jejuboo-s @fairy-jojo @babystarcandykookie @kawaiimusiccollection @read2lips @yunhokami @knife-scream @just-here-to-read-01 @unwanted-15 @bldelaine @sysymei @joonsytip @freakinthesheesh @moonfloweronmars @simpinghrs @unicxrnblood @manamiyx @tara-drabbles
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ymechi · 5 months
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Who is the real Creator?
I had to edit and remove some parts for this to make sense, I hope it is coherent if not please tell me so I can fix it and explain everything better. I did not expect people to be interested in this au so I was surprised! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
-TW: cult au, yandere, impostor au, mentions of being hunted down, mentions of trauma, mentions of character injuring themselves (nothing major)
-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)
Part 1, This is part 2, part 3, part 4
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Reader ushered Darling inside giving them the blanket which they used to dry their wet self. They sort of reminded Reader of what a wet sad cat one of their neighbors used to own looked like after a rainy day. Darling sat on the kitchen table as Reader once again prepared some tea. Reader really should get a nice tea set soon, they mentally put that on their shopping list the next time they are going to the market.
Darling sat quietly at the table sniffing and not saying much, Reader had no idea what to say before it would have been so easy they knew each other in and out. Yet now. . . it was as if a hundred years had passed, a million things had happened. Reader was now not sure what to say.
They weren't sure if they even wanted to comfort Darling. Shouldn't Darling be comforting Reader? All they got was that half-assed hospital meeting.
If Darling is upset wasn't there a league of followers, acolytes, servants heck even Archons who would comfort them why come to them now out of all times and alone? Clearly something serious happened that they had to runaway alone to them out of all people.
Reader inwardly sighed.
They bought out a pan. One thing they knew how to lighten the mood up was pancakes, it was easy and they knew how to do that . In fact, they might get a master's degree in making pancakes, Reader should ask Nahida if that is possible.
(They tried not to think that it was Darling's favourite meal to eat after being sad.)
"So. . . What happened?" Reader tried to start.
Darling did not respond for a while just quietly staring at them. Their eyes were a bit dull and exhaustion was evident on their face. They seemed to contemplate what to say before they started.
"I. . . I asked to wield a sword, at first they were against it but I wanted to try y'know?"
There was no question who they were, the crazy cultist acolytes. Reader shuddered at some of their past interactions with them, they were good weapon wielders reader would give them that. . . Reader had first-hand experience after all.
Yet Darling was alone with the trigger-happy acolytes all this time.
Although Darling was the supposed Creator, they should have been fine, Reader looked over at them and they lacked any surface wounds.
They should have been fine right?
"It was fine at first they taught me proper stances but then I got a bit touchy with the sword, you know me how I get with stuff like that and then I," she sighed, "I cut myself like an idiot."
Reader rubbed their head and thought about it, they would not be here for a cut something else went on and they waited for Darling to finish.
"Then I bled," Darling was quiet for a moment, "it was red."
Hey, it rhymed Reader wanted to say to break the tension but Reader refrained. They did not get it at all. What was so wrong with red blood? Wasn't blood supposed to be red.
Darling must have caught on and they looked like they finally understood something. It was they who wanted to understand what was going on!
"Uhm yeah you maybe don't know but the Creator is supposed to bleed gold."
Oh.
"Oh."
That is all they could say really. They felt dumb for a second there they had been actively avoiding taking any religious classes or any mention of religion for their own mental health's sake. Perhaps if they did not avoid it as much they would have understood what was going on much easier but for now the single religious book they owned remained hidden and untouched in their drawer.
Now that they finally understood the problem it was quite the conundrum. Darling was supposed to be the Creator yet now they were not because of some gold blood requirement. What would happen to Darling? Would they accuse them of harming the "real Creator"? Hunt them down like they did to Reader? Would they come and hunt down Reader again?
Although they doubted they would be hunted down again as the "blessings of the Creator" thing, whatever that meant, Nahida told everyone else seemed to work and placate them.
"Now what?" A reader asked tiredly.
"I don't know I managed to sneak out while they were distracted but I guess they will find out soon to come and get me."
Reader grimaced and turned around to prepare to finally whisk the ingredients they were too distracted to do while they listened to Darling.
"So like did they hurt you after they found out or something?" Reader cringed at their wording. They could have said that better considering it was a serious topic.
"No they didn't they just healed me and left me in my room," Darling paused, "You should have seen some of the looks on their faces, like I killed their puppy or something. . ."
Reader tried to imagine what it was like worshipping someone only for that person not to be the god they worshiped. It must have gone bad for both parties involved. Darling was told she was a god only to be looked at in disappointment. The followers who eagerly awaited for their beloved Creator only for it to be an illusion.
"Yikes, I can't imagine it was pleasant."
"It wasn't."
They went quiet after that soon the pancakes were ready and Reader went out to serve them along with the tea. Reader had to admit they could make some good mean pancakes because Darling looked a bit better with some of the color returning to their face.
There was another knock at the door.
Another visitor? Who would come- They looked at Darling, oh right.
Darling once again looked pale and the grip on their utensils was trembling. What had they done to shake them up this much? Reader wasn't doing better either their heartbeat going frantic as unpleasant memories resurfaced. Damnit they thought they had gotten better.
"Reader it is me Nahida we need to talk, I am sorry but it is urgent."
Reader inhaled, thank the stars it was only Nahida.
They relaxed their shoulders and opened the door. Despite the rain, the Archon looked dry and Reader wondered what sort of magic they used and if they could learn it as well.
"I am sorry to interfere," she looked behind Reader, "but it seems you have the person we have been searching for," Nahida said while looking genuinely sorry.
Right, the only person Darling knew besides the acolytes in this world was the Reader. No wonder they were found out so quickly.
"Uhm- uh- How about some pancakes first?"
Nahida looked the the back of Darling who was hunched over and relented. She must have seen something as she agreed rather quickly. Reader closed the door as the Archon entered their home. Nahida approached Darling they did an elegant bow and Reader was suddenly hit that Darling was or now was the creator. Darling got someone as well respected as Nahida to bow.
Reader had seen the way people behaved in respect and reverence at Nahida and how the scholars, the Emirates, and merchants would listen and take in her input. So someone like Nahida bowing. . .
Reader never fully understood the weight and status of that position the so-called "Creator" held even after being hunted down over it.
Yet now it seemed very heavy.
How did Darling live with that?
Darling face grimaced as she saw the bow. Nahida looked worried.
"Is there something going on your grace?"
This was going to be an awkward conversation. How to explain to someone you were not the god you thought they were?
Darling looked at Reader before looking back at their untouched pancakes.
"I am not your grace Nahida I bleed red like the rest."
A tense silence followed.
Nahida to her credit seemed calm with the revelation. She had her point finger touching her mouth in a contemplative gesture.
"I see and that is why you are here."
The room was quiet for a while. Reader awkwardly wrung her hands and it was surprisingly Darling, the least stable person who spoke up again.
"Did you know?" Darling said in an accusing tone their eyebrows narrowed. Reader thought they almost looked angry. Where did that come from? How could Nahida have known if no one else including them knew?
"To be honest your-," she paused," I had my suspicions.
Wait what- That was the first Reader heard about this.
"And you did not bother to tell me! To tell anyone?!" Darling jumped up from the chair.
"Was it funny watching me being led on, all those expectations, all those promises my whole world getting fucked up - fuck can I even go back home to my family?!"
Reader jumped between them hiding Nahida behind them trying to calm Darling down who looked to be on the verge of crying or a breakdown.
"Look Darling I know you are upset, it's messed up but she didn't have anything to do with it okay? I am sure she had her reasons."
Darling took one glance at Reader's eyes and fell down on the chair, they hid their face in their arms.
"I am. . . Sorry. . . Shit."
That de-escalated quickly just as it erupted. They worry about Darling's mental health at this point.
"It is fine, I suppose this is a very difficult situation for everyone involved," said Nahida.
Reader wrung their hands together.
"Hey I know it's not the time but I did make extra pancakes let's eat first?" They tried not to sound pathetic.
The silence was their reply.
"You and your damn pancakes," Darling said and snorted.
"Hey! I only do it because I know it cheers you up!" they said and huffed.
Nahida who looked at them laughed, the previous suffocating tension was gone and Reader went up to get a plate for Nahida as well. Finally both Reader and the Archon sat down on their seat they all ate in relative silence but it wasn't as awkward as it could have been.
Once finished Reader poured some hot tea.
"Thank you Reader the pancakes were delicious I will have to ask you to let me eat them again sometime."
Reader smiled at the Archon.
"Of course, you are welcome any time."
Darling who watched them snorted. Reader looked at them with questioning eyes.
"What are you laughing at," Reader said in an accusing tone. Was Darling mocking them again?
"You speak like them now," Darling said with an amused glint in their eyes as they looked at Reader.
"Ohh, I guess I kind of do. . ."
"Nerd."
"Hey!"
Nahida once again took a look at them and laughed. Both snapped out of their bubble and looked at the Archon sheepishly.
"I am glad to see you two are getting along well, I hope both of you don't mind the topic changing to a more serious one," she looked at both of them and both nodded,"Before we start, I have a question for you Darling."
Darling looked apprehensive but nodded.
"Do the others know about you not being the creator?"
". . .Yeah they do," Darling said and looked at their empty plate.
"I see that does make things easier it is better it is out now that later knowing how overzealous some acolytes and followers can get."
Reader grimaced and Darling looked a bit defeated at the statement.
"How much do you both know about the creator?"
Reader and Darling looked at each other and it was Reader who started to speak.
"Honestly not much I avoid religious talk at all cost."
Nahida looked at Reader with sympathy.
"I guess I am the opposite I got to learn a lot, basically in each new era the creator descends into a new incarnation, and their vessel is not always the same," she paused thinking about what to say next, "They like to live peacefully with their people because of that they don't always have their powers with them but they can gain them over time, something like that"
"Yes that is most of it, it is presumed in this era the creator chose to be a normal human which we thought was you Darling. We also thought that the Creator's presence and powers were weak due to being a normal human in this incarnation. Despite you not being the Creator some part of what I said is true.
"Which part?" Darling asked.
"The part where the creator chose to be an ordinary human, despite having such a faint presence me being so attuned to Irminsul could still feel it, yet it was weak. That is why I was confused. Rather than being the Creator you Darling had gotten a blessing from the Creator."
"But how I have never met them" Darling interjected.
Nahida stared at Reader and once again Reader was reminded of those intense stares directed at them as if trying to solve a puzzle piece.
"No, the creator was - is still quite close to you."
"Wait really?" Darling looked at Nahida in confusion inching closer towards the Archon as if they went closer physically they would solve the mystery.
"Yes we are sitting beside them after all."
There was no question about who Nahida meant both she and Darling were staring at Reader.
No.
That is what Reader replied with.
Nahida shook her head.
"I am afraid it is true.
No way.
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Taglist: @resident-cryptid @probablynoposts @esthelily @mitsukashi @charming-mage @chaoticfivesworld @irisxiel @dulcedelechenginamo
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sanb3rry · 20 days
Note
just finished blue lock and i can’t get that one episode of rin speaking in english out of my head…
may i request fluff of whipped!rin who so obviously pines for foreign!reader who he thinks doesn’t speak japanese (spoiler: they do!!) thank u ^.^
sorry it took me so long!! hope you like it <33
disclaimer !! : all times characters speak japanese will be written in bold italics.
hey, i think you're cute ! 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖
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it started off with small and frequent glances at the new manager. rin was just curious that was all it was, at least what it was supposed to be. for some reason, you're just so intriguing to him but he didn't exactly know why.
he sat next to you during one of the breaks and nudged you with his leg to get your attention before opening a small box of strawberry shortcake.
he knew for a fact you'd like it as he was listening to overheard you telling zantetsu out of all people that you did.
you glanced up from your volume of kimi ni todoke, "is that for me?" you asked, kinda confused.
the imaginary angel on your shoulder skipping and squealing over the thought of it and how this was ripped out of a shoujo manga.
rin nods, he was unable to maintain eye contact with you, you were so cute! this cannot be happening to him. the itoshi rin has a crush!? how preposterous!
"thank you, rin. that's really sweet of you." you said giddily as you put your book aside and took the cake.
he was happy as is, i mean his crush really sweet and pretty friend took the cake he bought just for her.
but, you had to go one step further and give him the first spoon. no no, not just give, feed him the first spoon. were foreigners always this bold? rin thinks his heart won't be able to handle this and thanks you before leaving.
you would've thought you made him uncomfortable but the flustered look on his face said otherwise.
"see you around, rin!" you waved. rin didn't hear you, he was too busy thinking about the interaction and trying to walk straight.
a few days passed before you were able to have a proper conversation with him.
"good day of training, rin?" you asked as you handed him his water bottle. "yes-" his words failed him as his eyes widened. did you just speak japanese or was he becoming crazy?
ten seconds passed by,
then twenty,
.
.
.
it's probably been a minute now.
rin just stood there staring at you, you were getting nervous. "are..are you alright? was i too informal?" you asked frantically, getting ready to apologise.
"no, sorry, you're fine. i . . . didn't know you spoke japanese." he said sheepishly, looking away from you.
"oh! that's okay. i was so sure you knew though." you wondered out loud.
rin thought back to all the times he should've caught on. your japanese version of manga, the fact that managers have to know at least a little japanese or get it taught to them through daily language classes, when you said bye to him a few days earlier. he mentally slapped himself.
"i should've known." he mumbled to himself, he's disappointed that he got so distracted with his feelings that he forgot basic context clues.
"don't beat yourself up for it, rin. anyways, i think julian is calling for you guys." you said as you glanced at julian.
you laughed nervously, "i better get back to work." a nervous shudder following your words as you think back of the time anri got angry at the managers for slacking off.
you waved to rin before leaving, he might not show it but if this were a tv show he'd have flowers and sparkles around him to show how happy he was.
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© sanb3rry2024
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atierrorian · 1 month
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| Glad it's you | — R.H
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PARING: Rook Hunt x Deaf!reader
SYNOPSIS: All your entire life, you knew silence. But—it isn't as bad as people make it out to be. Because even with your biggest flaw, he still chose you.
˗ˏˋGENRE ´ˎ˗ — Romance, fluff, angst/comfort
˗ˏˋCW ´ˎ˗ — Rook is already a warning. Ooc, mentions of bullying, stalking(It's Rook, duh) horrible poetry.
˗ˏˋNOTES ´ˎ˗ — Wow! It has been a while and I am so sorry for not making anything in quite some time, I've become so busy nowadays that writing has barely crossed my mind, so I'll make most of my free time writing this!
✎| Masterlists|Navigation |
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♡ "Are you really willing to accept me?" ♡ "I've accepted you a long time ago."
People always pitied you for as long as you can remember now. Frequently assuming it must be hard not being able to hear. And yeah, sometimes—but it isn't as bad as they make it out to be, if anything, you find solace in the silent world you have lived in all your life. Sure, there were times when it was hard to understand people, especially if they didn't know sign language.
Luckily, you mostly used poems to interact with them. Though, it was amusing to see them struggle to grasp your poems—that's what makes it fun anyway.
And so, making use of your skills, you swiftly wrote down another poem for a certain hunter. He's one of the few people you've known who could actually decipher what your poems meant. And it's not to say each and every time you show him your masterpiece, he always seems to be on your level when it came to writing back to you.
It always makes you feel giddy inside when he writes back to you. Re-reading every syllable. Caressing the ink that was clearly carefully written with such consideration with each word he used, you couldn't help but feel as though he was hinting to you about something.
You scoffed; shaking the thought away. Who were you trying to fool? This was the Rook Hunt you were thinking about! He's like this with everyone. Besides—why would he go for someone who had a defect? To say the least, you weren't insecure with your disability but, thinking about the blonde hunter who seemed to always cross your mind whenever you wrote—you couldn't help but feel your heart tightening in your chest from such thoughts.
In the end, why would he choose you? You're nothing special, far from it anyway. You're just someone who could never hear and someone who just writes to communicate. But, even then, you were still wrapped around his fingertips. And besides—it doesn't hurt to hope, right?
You felt a hand placed on your shoulder, you froze. You had never stayed still like a statue so fast in your entire life until now. What? Millions of thoughts were racing through your mind right now—was it another of the students who were here to once again chuck balled up papers again? Take your poems away from you and ripped them to pieces or flames it until there's nothing left but ashes?
"Awww, what's this? Another one of your silly stories?"
"Look! It's another one of their love poems!"
"Pathetic if you ask me."
You didn't focused on them, you never even knew what they were saying, and you could care less what insults or degrading comments they were spewing from their filthy mouth. Your knees on the ground while clutching onto what was remains of the paper you once cherished. And they tore it all up like it was nothing.
Shuddering from the memory, you closed your eyes and continued to look at your lap; prepared for whatever torture they were gonna do to you again. Tore your poems? Throw paper at you? Mocking at you while you cry in tears because they had nearly killed you? What else did they had in store for you?
You gripped the paper even harder, shutting your eyelids even tighter if that was even possible. You were scared.
Huh.
You felt a piece of paper slid onto your lap, hesitantly, bit by bit, you forced your eyes to open to see what it was. Was it an insult written in a letter? If so, then you're surprised that they were even intelligent enough to finally realized that you had a hearing disability instead of using their vocals to try and insult you.
But no, it was not anything you expected or thought. Instead, your vision was blessed with a familiar handwriting. Subconsciously, you read what was was written on the white letter that graced your sight, and goodness it always doesn't fail to make your blood rushing through your face. By the sevens, how does he always make you feel this way?
Why such a blue face? You don't need to be ashamed of such a heartache; If you need someone to wipe your tears, my heart will gladly volunteer; What you consider flaws, is what I consider perfection —
Mon Cherie, you are the belle of my dairy heart, You, sweetheart, have me wrapped around your fingertips; I will never let go of the string that wraps around my wrist; That connects me, to you.
My heart beats loudly; even you could hear it— If your heart longs for anything, Mon cherie, just write to me; And tell me all your silly sorrows. -Rook Hunt
Though it was short and simple, you couldn't help but re-read the words every now and then. You smiled seeing the words written on the paper. How could you not? His words sweet like candy, it was addicting in a way even you were worried you wouldn't get enough of it. Or maybe it's too late for you.
Your heart started racing so fast you thought even you could hear it. The more you examined the poem the more it started to look like a love confession. But it couldn't be that, could it? You so badly wanted to hope that you had a chance but you didn't want to get your hopes up.
You, sweetheart, have me wrapped around your fingertips.
Those lines, shit, you couldn't help but swoon over them. Clutching the poem, you finally gazed at the author with wonders and hope. He smiled at you and signed those three words you've been waiting to see.
"I love you."
Was it even possible for your heart to be beating faster than it was before? You held the poem closer to your beating heart, trying to conceal it; worried he might hear it. It felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. You sighed dreamily and thanked your heart for choosing him.
Meanwhile, Rook chuckled seeing your flustered expression. He found beauty in all things whether it was considered good or bad to others. But he found you the most beautiful of them all. He won't lie, he fell for you hard when he saw you. Because even when he learnt about your flaw, it didn't matter to him; you were still the fairest of them all. You weren't able to hear his words—but that's alright; he'll gladly write thousands or more letters if it meant to show you just how much he loves you.
He'd gladly and happily dance in hot and burning shoes if it meant to show you his devotion to you, just to show how much he cares for you. And if anyone were to make you doubt? Let's just say they wouldn't be coming closer to you anymore if they caused you pain. But before that, he'd come and comfort you, with words written on paper just so all your worries would go away.
Even if his fingers start to go numb and bruises appear, he won't stop until he finally sees you smile. He's glad that his heart chose you.
END
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Wow! Uhm, heyy ik it's been awhile but I finally found enough inspiration to make this! Again sorry it's been awhile I've been so busy that I barely found any time to write at all, but I do hope you guys liked this!
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baegetas · 6 months
Text
》 blackout.
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son goku x afab reader
summary: sitting at the bar after a hard day, you're joined by none other than your friend gohan's father, and he knows how he can cheer you up.
warnings: minors do not interact, explicit content: age gap, multiple orgasms, (slight, if you squint) implied cheating, overstimulation, drunk sex, alcohol consumption
word count: 1.7k
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you were alone at a bar. you'd completely flunked an exam that you'd studied hard for, and you were downing shots like they were nothing. even the bartender was asking if you were okay, to which you'd reply with a simple, "i will be."
while you were mindlessly scrolling through social media, a giggle cut through your brooding silence. it was familiar. you looked over your shoulder, finding that you were face-to-face with a "friend" of yours: goku. well, correction: he was gohan's father, and you were a friend of gohan's. you were a little scared of goku at first, but warmed up to him once you knew he wasn't some scary muscle-head. he grinned at you and promptly mused, "hey!"
"hello, goku."
he sat next to you, looking at you like a dejected puppy. "aw, what's wrong? you looked bored from over there, but man, you seem pretty sad."
you sighed, failing to hide the smile from him. "i guess. but i didn't expect to see you here, out of all people."
"whaaat?" goku giggled and spun the barstool around. "are you kidding? this place is so fun!"
"no, i mean, like, i didn't see you as much of a drinker."
"eh... if it's sweet, i don't care what it is. i'll drink it. heeeey!" he flagged down the bartender, grinning happily. "you have jello shots? yeah? you should give us a few!"
you gave him a slightly agitated look, to which he giggled and said, "don't worry, i'll pay! i don't know what's got you so down, but it's time to cheer up!"
that giggle would be the end of you, and you knew it. as the shots slid onto the counter in front of you, you sighed. it wouldn't be horrible to have a little fun, right?
next thing you knew, goku had convinced you to join him on the dance floor. there had always been something so charming about his idiocy. something charming about how oblivious he was. however, now that he had you in your own little corner of the place in the dark, you could see something else behind those sweet eyes. you could see intention, like he was aware of exactly what he was doing. he was aware that it was the two of you. he was aware that you were both tipsy. he was aware that he was double your size. he was very aware.
with the lights spinning again, flashing a multitude of colors, you found yourself lost in music. lost in liquor. you and goku had been gradually getting closer to one another. you found yourself dancing right against him, and his rough, calloused hands were sliding up and down the sides of your torso, with a focus on your hips. swaying back and forth in rhythm, you could feel his muscles against your back. you could feel his breath against your neck. you shuddered, and looked up at him for some sort of clue as to what he was thinking. and looking back at you were two serious, calculating eyes. like a predator. "heh. you look surprised."
your lip shook ever so slightly. "you... are you?"
he smirked. "am i what? gotta finish the sentence."
you hiccuped, trying to clear your throat. "flirting?"
"i dunno," he hummed, feigning innocence. "problem?"
your eyes flickered down to his hands on your hips. they were gripping you. "...no."
his voice dropped an octave, getting raspy. "nice. you mind if i do something?"
"to... to me?" he nodded, and you were having trouble suffocating the butterflies in your stomach. you swallowed roughly, leaning your head back against his shoulder as you stared up at him. he was holding you against him. for a moment, you thought, what would gohan think? i mean, this was your friend's dad. this man was twice your age. but nonetheless, you replied, "you... can do anything you want. to me."
within a split second, he flipped you around and pressed your back against the club's concrete wall. you had no time to breathe. goku was kissing you with a passion. your hands gripped his clothes, pulling him as close as you could. his thigh pressed in between your legs, and at that point, you were putty in his hands. all you could do was whine. this was a completely different goku, and you were loving it.
he sank his teeth into the side of your neck, and you moaned out loud. when you noticed someone staring at the two of you, your eyes widened. "ah- goku! hey."
he pulled back from your skin by just inches. "something wrong?"
"we... we can't do this. not... in public."
his voice was gravelly. "why not? i'm sure people would love to watch. make 'em jealous."
you blushed and stammered out, "it... it's indecent... and a little illegal... to do things like this in public. my apartment would be a better place."
"your apartment?" he stood straight up and pressed two fingers to his forehead. he gripped your shoulder tightly. "gotcha."
and suddenly, you were both standing in the front hallway of your apartment. you blinked a few times, unsure of what the fuck just happened, but all of that was thrown to the wayside when goku's lips found yours again, pressing you against the wall of your living room.
your belongings fell to the ground, and your hands started to pull his shirt up so you could feel his torso. every muscle, every divot - he was so fucking ripped. and his hands weren't wasting time with you, either. traveling up your thighs, he tore your panties off with one finger. his hand grabbed your entire ass, and he took in a deep inhale, smelling your scent on the skin of your neck. "god, you smell so good."
"you... ah!" you lost your train of thought when he started grinding his crotch against yours. with flushed cheeks from a drunken stupor, you mumbled, "you... want me, don't you?"
shedding his t-shirt, he growled, "what do you think?"
he was biting at your skin as his hands discarded the rest of your clothes, albeit in a more refined fashion. once you were completely nude, he couldn't hold himself back anymore. he picked you up like a doll. like you weighed absolutely nothing to him. he was quick to find your bedroom, and he quite literally threw you down onto the bed. then, he followed. and his tongue found your slit, rough hands pushing your thighs apart so he could taste you as much as he possibly could.
your hand tangled in his thick hair. he was so sloppy, but it was quick to send every nerve in your body into a frenzy. he would grunt and groan, and his nose would bump against your clit, sending a jolt through your body. when his tongue actually plunged into you, you lost all of your bearings. you came all over his face, and he replied to it with a pleased groan, unwilling to pull away until your body relaxed. with one eye open, you looked down at his messy face. his dark, widened pupils. his flushed cheeks. then, he grinned. "i thought you'd taste good, but that was better than i thought."
panting, you whined back, "goku... i..."
"already on it." he was quick to remove his pants and boxers, and he was quick to climb back over you, trapping you in another kiss. with the full weight of his body against his, you realized just how small you were. his length slid along your folds, and you could taste yourself on his tongue.
your hands found his back when he got the opportunity to press himself into you, and he did so with a guttural groan. at that point, you couldn't think. the slow stretch was just too good, and your foreheads rested against one another until he was fully sheathed in you. he panted, "so... tight... i gotta..."
you panted back, "just... just fuck me."
and when his hips started snapping back and forth, you couldn't help but whine. your nails dug into his back, and his face was buried in your neck. he was relentless, keeping a fast, steady pace. as your moans got louder, you heard his voice in your ear. "shh... be a good girl. i know you can handle it."
hitting that sweet spot over and over, it didn't take any time for you to come undone a second time. and a third time. goku hadn't even broken much of a sweat, and he had you completely folded over underneath him. your eyes were locked on his as he cooed, "yeah, that's it. good."
in that moment, you understood that he was going to finish inside you. and you didn't care one bit about it. as if on cue, his huge frame leaned down to trap you in a tongue-filled kiss, hands gripping your ass. you weren't going anywhere. he had you completely pinned.
you'd lost count of how many times you came before his thrusts started to get sloppy. he was grunting more often, shaft head poking at your cervix every now and then. it hurt, but you were far too blissed out to care. "good girl. just... a little bit more, okay?"
by now, you were a babbling mess, but you managed to nod in response. the bed was slamming against the wall, and you knew that your neighbors on all sides would be complaining about the noise, if they hadn't already. his grunts were going right into your ear, and he grunted especially loudly as he said, "you ready?"
you nodded and mewled, "yes, please."
goku growled, then moaned beautifully has he came right into you. his hips didn't even stop, riding out his own orgasm with a blissful look on his face. when his hips eventually stopped, he collapsed onto you, breathing heavily. you were doing the same. your head was spinning. after only a minute, he propped himself up on his elbow. "whew... that was... amazing."
"i... know." you said this so quietly that you could barely hear it yourself. "it was."
then, goku gave you that trademark giggle. that trademark grin. you looked at him through half lidded eyes as he said, "i think we're gonna have to do that again. way more often than just once. i'm gonna need it."
you smiled and wrapped your arms around his torso. you couldn't respond vocally, but pulling him closer was the answer he needed. he giggled again and relaxed atop you, with no intention of moving any time soon.
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formulaforza · 5 months
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Haiiiiiii i love your writing, could i request Lance Stroll with the prompt the first initial kiss being a simple peck, then they immediately go back in for a stronger, more passionate one?? I feel like that’s very him vibes.
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—nowhere in particular
pairing: lance stroll x reader wc: 1.1k summ. everything with lance is so damn... friendly.
It’s been nearly three months of “Oh, Lance and I? We’re… we’re nothing,” followed by a pursed smile on your lips and an eye roll from whoever was bold enough to ask you. Three months, some eighty-something days of we’re nothing, when the two of you were most certainly fucking something. 
You weren’t dating, that was for sure. And you weren’t fucking, either. So, to anyone else it might look like you were nothing. But even if you thought you were crazy—the dozen or so people who seem to ask you about him every time they see the two of you interact is enough proof that you really are something. 
It’s hard to place exactly what it is, but it falls somewhere on the fault line between friends and dating, moving through like with the promise not to date anyone else, but without the balls to just date each other. 
It’s not that you don’t have the balls, it’s that you refuse to. You’ve always been a firm believer in him making the first move. You just never thought you’d be as desperate for someone to make the move as you are for Lance to just up and get it over with already.
Always a firm believer in the guy making the first move, but christ. Three months of waiting, and you’re about two days away from reaching your breaking point. 
Lance sits next to you on the flannel blanket in the park. The “friendly flannel blanket,” as he’d said shortly after proposing the idea—made skittish by your lack of response within the five second window he gave you to do so— “that I always have, like, in my car, y’know.” You couldn’t see him through the telephone lines, but you could imagine it, the way his hand nervously ran over the back of his neck. 
He was always adorable like that, all nervous and fidgety when you did anything more than give him the time of day. It’s cute. You’ve always thought it was cute when he was nervous, because he spends the rest of the time so stupidly confident. You like that you can make him nervous, but it seems like you’ve made him too nervous. 
Because he sits next to you on the friendly flannel blanket with the friendly picnic he’d prepared and the friendly cake he’d brought with carefully placed raspberries and the friendly bottle of red wine. You sit next to him, wearing the friendly hoodie he’d pulled over and off his head when you shuddered with the breeze, a friendly centimeter of space between your crossed legs and his wild brown hair, your eyes fixed to his friendly pink lips when he talks. You want to scream—fuck friends, Lance. Fuck friendly, and just kiss me already. 
Lance’s head, meanwhile, fucking spins. He’s such an idiot, he thinks, can’t stop himself from speaking—from feeling the need to inform you (lie to you) that everything he touches is friendly. There’s nothing friendly about the way he feels about you, but his stupid fucking mouth is too worried that making that fact known is only going to screw him over—that he’ll mess it up enough that not only is he not dating you, but now he’s not even your friend. 
Because… well. You’re you—all pretty hair and pretty lips and pretty smile and pretty skin and pretty personality. You’re soft when he’s brash and you’re brash when he’s soft and nothing ever feels balanced unless you’re the one balancing it. 
And now he’s lying here, on this thick, itchy blanket, just wondering when you’re finally going to have enough of him and his inability to just. To just kiss you, and let the rest of the world make sense. 
You eat, and you talk, and you make him laugh—you’re always making him laugh harder than he should. Anyone who watches probably thinks he’s a total fool, head over feet and half in-love with the same girl everyone else would be half in-love with. No joke in the history of the entire world has been funny enough to elicit the laugh you hear from him every time you crack one. 
He’s carefully slicing the cake when you swipe your finger through the white frosting, wiping the sugary substance off on the tip of his nose with a giggle. His head shoots up while you do it, catches your eyes and the completely human way they crinkle when you laugh, the way your lashes settle when you smile, and all he can think is that you just look so pretty.
You’re so pretty, and he doesn’t even have time to talk himself out of it, because he’s kissing you—quick, simple, like he was trying to shut you up. It’s a peck, nothing more, and certainly not the way he wanted to kiss you for the first time. He can’t believe he just managed to fuck up the first time he kissed you—that he definitely just made certain the first time was the last time. He’d strangle himself if he could.
“I’m sorry,” he’s saying before you can even process what just happened. “You just… I’m sorry.”
A smile pulls on your lips, and your cheeks ache from how much the muscles have been used this afternoon. “It’s okay,” you nod.
“You… there’s frosting on your nose,” he says, wiping the remnants of your swipe off his nose.
“I don’t care,” you say. “Kiss me like you mean it.”
His eyes shoot up before his head does, like he’s checking if you’re being serious or not. You are. You’re dead serious. The kind of quick peck a middle aged wife stuck in a miserable marriage gives to her middle aged husband will not be the first move you've been waiting three months for. If he’s going to kiss you with frosting on his nose, he better do it right. 
He makes up for it, though, when he wipes the frosting from your nose, licks it clean off his thumb and slots his hands on either side of your jaw, pulling you to him like he’s been waiting to do it for ninety days. When his lips finally meet yours, the rest of the park falls into the background. The sweetness of the frosting lingers, blending with the warmth of his lips. This is not a peck—this is a declaration, a revelation. 
“Better?” He says, his forehead warm against yours. 
You nod, smiling. “Much better,” and then you kiss him again like time might run out, even though you both know it won’t.
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yuri-is-online · 7 months
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Hi hi, Can you please to prompt 4 with Malleus,Vil, and Riddle?
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4. You met someone really wonderful at the Masquerade Ball and have been ranting about how he was totally the love of your life to your abnormally quiet friend. Actually wasn't he invited too? Maybe you should ask him how that went.
Hello hello and of course I can, and I agree with the first ask you sent me. I was not really thinking of Malleus specifically when I wrote that prompt but it really does suit him doesn't it?
Oh also, welcome to the hell site. I noticed you're new from the few asks you sent me (I was so confused as to how a blank blog was talking to me), I hope you have fun with the content on here. New people are always welcome with me, I know all about being shy and uncertain of how to interact with people. I'll answer the other Malleus prompt you sent in after I have done some others, it was my bad for not realizing you were the same person haha.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, full shojo manga lack of self awareness here in Malleus's part (it is implied to take place before the Ch. 6 reveal), just don't think about it is Yuu's middle name. The rest of the requests can be found on my masterlist here.
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Malleus
"Tsunotarou, you know a lot about gargoyles, right?" Such a foolish yet welcome question. Truly your unawareness of just who you are conversing with never ceases to amaze and infatuate him.
"Of course, I am something of an expert." He smiles, trying to keep it from showing the whites of his teeth.
"Oh well then you must be very happy to be in Diasomnia." Your eyes are sparkling, and he pauses. Yes he is very happy to be in Diasomnia, but not for the gargoyles. Briar Valley has long respected the legacy of the Thorn Fairy, and what better house could there be for the noblest of nobles than one that's very core is the spirit of nobility? But these are not exactly things he wishes to speak with you about, it would require detailed revelations he fears the consequences of.
"And what makes you think that, child of man?" Still there must be cause for your reasoning, and he does wish to hear it.
"Well your housewarden is one, isn't he?" You seem very pleased with yourself, but your mind is clearly very far away. Malleus stares at you, eyes wide in shock as he attempts to piece together what logic might have drawn you to such a conclusion. "I met him last night." Your dreamy sigh fills him with jealousy, just irrational enough that the thunder crack above you is quite small enough that he can convince you to remain outside of Ramshackle in conversation with him.
"Your mask is really impressive!" Your eyes always shone at the simplest displays of magic, it filled Malleus with a joy he could never quite find his fill of.
"Mask?!" Roars Sebek, his volume matching the pride rapidly feeling Malleus's chest. "Foolish human, this is more than a mere mask! This is a display of my lord's skill! A perfect recreation of old Briar Valley Masquerade tradition! His artistic talent has been woven though magic to bear his true face for the world to see-"
"That's quite enough Sebek." He does enjoy his retainers praise, but he has a task in mind that the over excited boy might- no will definitely endanger if he speaks further.
"But my lord!" Poor Sebek is torn between embarrassment, jelousy, and concern as he watches his precious lord observe you in the same manner one might a particularly expensive jewel.
"They have given me a most treasured compliment and I wish to reward them in turn." He bows, making sure to flourish his hand as he extends it, taking great pleasure in the little shudder that he only sees unaccompanied by fear in you. "May I have this dance, prefect?"
"Y-yes. You may." You seem in a daze as he takes you to the floor, just as unaware of the others around you as he is. It's wonderful, no matter how many times he visits you he has never had such a good excuse to hold you as this. Your scent, the weight of you in his arms, the way he can better familiarize himself with the subtle movements of your face is all much more real and overwhelming than he had ever imagined it being. It's all Lilia can do to drag him away, whispering teasing things about impropriety and duty to soothe the storm at his fingertips as he sees your friends scoop you up where he left off.
"He is a very handsome gargoyle. And so polite! But then I guess he is royalty so that makes sense..." The continued thunder has you inviting him in, mentioning something about tea he really can't be bothered to think about.
"No he isn't." Malleus pouts. "The nobility of Briar Valley has a reputation for being extremely dour and irrational."
"Oh. Well no wonder he seemed so happy I danced with him. Poor fellow must be very lonely." Oh if only you knew.
"Enough about my housewarden." Malleus declares without a hint of irony, bowing in a familiar fashion to prevent you from entering your kitchen. "He isn't the one you are talking to now is he? He isn't the one who you will be thinking about when you dream tonight." In a slight daze you take his hand, the living room fills with green fireflies as the storm outside slows to a halt as kinder, not softer emotions fill the young lord's heart. "He isn't the one your last dance is for, so focus on me, won't you?"
Vil
"This is why I told you to make sure whatever costume Crewel gave you came with a coat." Vil is beyond angry, with you certainly, but mostly at- life? The fact humans have an immune system that doesn't always work? You have no clue and your head is much too stuffed up to care. What you do care about is that Vil is here, and he really shouldn't be. Colds are contagious and Vil has so many things that he should be doing other than fussing over someone who is not in his dorm and not his responsibility.
"You could get sick." You say and he laughs, if you could see him, if he was not sat behind you on a bed in one of Pomefiore's empty rooms, you know the look he would have on his face. You would see his stupidly beautiful smug smile he has when he has something particularly cutting to say; instead you have to close your eyes and picture it as he pats your head dry just a bit more forcefully.
"Not my responsibility you say? You certainly seem to have a funny view of this." Vil has a word on the tip of his tongue. A word that's ambiguous, a word that would make his manager have a fit. If only she had been a fly on the wall during the Masquerade last night.
"My my, you seem a bit out of place." The tall stranger must be confused at your staring, but he seems more amused than offended. "Does my costume enchant you that much?"
"It reminded me of something." It would hard enough to explain to a friend what you are thinking of, harder still to a stranger. The scarlet costume could have been taken from a playbill, you find yourself looking him over for any sign of a folio. You highly doubt it's you the Red Death wants to capture tonight, but you cannot say you will protest too loudly if that's what he decides. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
"Quite the opposite," the stranger does not ask you to dance, merely extends his hand and gracefully leads you off to the side when you take it, "so long as you praise me out loud you can look as long as you like."
"It's not like you got me sick." You sneeze into your tissue and Vil frowns, satisfied with your care but not with your answer. He had his suspicions that you may have made a... mistake in your assessment of your time at the Masquerade. But it did hurt him slightly to think that you did not know his essence well enough to have recognized him at once. "And I did get a costume with a cloak, I just gave it to the Red Death because it was too weird to see him without it."
"Mhmm I don't know." you say. It's such a shame Vil can only see your lips, he loves it when you tease him so much already it isn't fair he has to focus on something so tauntingly close and yet so far out of reach. "I think your costume is incomplete."
"Oh?" Vil makes sure to hold you close to him as the song ends, daring anyone to come close enough to try and steal your attention so he can laugh at the attempt. "What's your reasoning for that? Depending on what you have to say, I just might agree." You back out of his arms and make a frame with your fingers. "Kiss me." He begs silently. "Kiss me and leave a mark." But instead you unwind your cloak and fix it to his shoulder.
"Perfect. Now you really look like the portrait." And to his great despair you are gone.
Despite your earlier stated worries, you fall back into Vil's chest, tilting your back to look up at him. "When I'm not sick remind me to tell you about the Phantom of the Opera? I wanted to spend more time dancing with him, but I was feeling too much at home and got scared he'd vanish." Vil's eyes shine with a strangely familiar light, and he gently guides you under the bed's covers. Just before he leaves he kisses your forehead so gently it's all you can do not to cry.
"I think your phantom might be closer than you think." He murmurs against your skin and leaves you to sleep, tucking you under a mysteriously familiar red cloak as soon as your eyes are well and truly closed.
Riddle
"You will be too tired to do anything after the ball, so make sure to shower and go directly to bed."
It was good advice based off of a reasonable assumption, and technically you were not in fact physically doing anything. You were also quite tired, you had expected to spend most of the ball on the outskirts observing the display of feathers and paints but that was far from what actually happened. You don't think you had ever danced in your life as much as you had in the past six hours. It would be extremely reasonable to assume that after scrubbing yourself free of makeup and sweat you would be down for the count.
But you weren't. Your mind was running a mile a minute, eyes constantly glancing at your phone on your nightstand. It's an odd feeling, wanting to call someone and not being able to. It is also a feeling you have become deeply familiar with, the ache it produces might as well be permanently woven into your heart, you should be immune to the pain at this point.
This time though, this time the person you want to call could theoretically be within reach. This person was someone you could touch, someone you could hold, someone whose touch still lingered against your hands.
The little knight was just as awkward as you were, if he didn't immediately stutter out a protest you would have thought he was just as inexperienced with the whole formal party thing as you were.
"I know what I'm doing I just-"
"Then can you show me how to dance? I've been practicing but I'm not great at it." He stares at you, and you are worried you said something wrong until he laughs, it sounds smug you think but you can't be sure.
"That's the proper way to ask for a dance." He takes your hand in his as he bows, kissing it so gently you half think it was your imagination. "This is."
You pick up your phone before it buzzes, immediately sitting up in shock when you see just who is messaging you at 3:30 am on a Friday.
[Riddle] Are you still awake prefect?
[Yuu] Ace is that you.
[Yuu] I'm not covering for you if Riddle finds out you took his phone again (¬_¬)
[Riddle] What do you mean again?
The little knight's dance is stiff at first, but he relaxes as you continue. He has been guiding you to the center of the room, you belatedly realize. You must have looked frightened once you did. "It would be rude to stay in the corner during the slower songs." He squeezes your hand to bring your attention back to him. "It isn't against the rules to be bad at dancing, but it is to monopolize other people's space."
"Aren't you doing that right now?" You tease and he stops leading you, almost as if he hadn't even considered that.
"Are you not enjoying yourself?" He almost sounds afraid and you find yourself having to take over the direction of your movements.
"I didn't say that." Your knight almost seems to grow ten feet tall at your praise before he becomes aware of himself again and gets a bit bashful. But he does not take over again, content to let you set the pace of your dancing for the rest of the night.
[Riddle] Actually disregard that. Since you are awake, would you mind coming to your window? I understand throwing rocks is considered romantic but breaking a window would be most unfitting behavior for a housewarden.
You are tempted to tell him you are waiting for a message from someone else, but the unusual behavior has you at your window before you can even full form the thought. You almost drop your phone at the sight you see below you.
Riddle expected to have difficulty making eye contact with you. He expected to be teased about his failure to follow his own good advice, his costume has got to be a mess between the dancing he did with you earlier and the pacing he did once he got back to Heartslabyul.
But neither of those happen. Neither matters, instead you see him and the familiar scrap of paper you had given him with your number and a heart and fly down the Ramshackle steps into his outstretched arms.
"I'm so glad it was you I danced with tonight."
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snailsgoingdowntown · 7 months
Text
Intrigued With You
I ii iii iiii
Yandere! Pinocchio x Fem! Mechanic! Reader
Warnings: Implied toxic familial relationship, unbalanced power dynamics between the reader and Geppetto, very slight mental breakdown, slowly going into a downwards spiral, paranoia, mentioned past violence and stalking. When the full game comes out, this work may be completely different from the actual game. Please tell me if I missed any.
This blog contains/creates/interacts with dark content.
Minors/blank blogs/blogs that don’t reblog any fan art or fan fiction DNI.
Word count:3096k
Over all story summary: Your uncle’s puppet takes a bit too much of an interest in you: in which you fucked up in this chapter.
==
The public’s opinion of you started to go downhill since then.
It’s been a week, and while most of the citizens won’t throw rocks or stalk you, they still stare – glares that are sharper than a knife, cutting deep into your arteries. You could practically feel the blood oozing out, a puddle forming underneath you as you stood on the stage, heart threating to explode any second now. The crowd just stares, and the puppet next to you cheers. How funny. The damn puppet is offering you more support than the intended audience.
Your foot taps against the wood. Your head throbs and you hold back a scream. You’re a monkey in a circus and they’re throwing peanuts at you.
“Hello everyone. I am here today to introduce a new, and improved, Nanny Puppet, upgraded with new codes and everything.” Your smile is strained, some of the people cheering with others sitting in silence. Seems as though some are genuinely interested and perhaps even excited about the new developments.
Glancing at your uncle who rests behind the curtains to the side, he nods his head.  But most of his attention was on the puppet rather than you. “And it even comes with settings you can adjust yourself at home.”
The Nanny cheers again, robotic, and staticky still. So lifeless, its entire being written on a script. But as you look over the crowd on the wooden stage, head light and heart thumping like thunder, you feel the same. From the way you are standing, to the wave of your hands and your words, is all scripted.
A script written by your uncle.
“Now, come,” you gesture to The Nanny, and it listens, turning its back towards the crowd as you stand next to it. There’s buttons and latches, and you undo them all, with a quick ‘sorry,’ uttered into its ‘ear.’ A habit you picked up from the years of working with your uncle.
And with the rise of malfunctions, part of you thinks it’s for the best. Pretend you’re sorry to them, and maybe when everything goes south, they’ll take pity on you. Paranoia doesn’t look good on you, you realize, showing the audience the off switch, the lights in its eyes dimming as it turns off. This wasn’t a new feature.
But the kill switch is.
“As you can see, the power switch is still enabled, even in these new models. So, don’t worry about that, but!” you bring out a control panel from your waistcoat pocket. It’s small enough to fit in your hand, and on the black surface lies a red button, a little glass cap covering it. To prevent any accidental touches. You grip it a little too hard.
“This right here is a kill switch. Now, I’m not going to press it,” your thumb rubs circles over the cap. You can’t find it in you to force another smile, mentally and physically drained from everything. “But the moment you press it, the puppet will immediately shut down… but it won’t turn on again, either.”
There’s some ‘ooo’s’ and ‘awe’s,’ but the silence of the rest is what puts you on edge. They’re most likely the protesters. You wouldn’t be surprised if this stage would set fire any minute now. You shudder at the thought. Another glance at your uncle – he nods, again.
But his eyes are still mostly focused on the puppet. You can’t tell if it is in interest, hope, or disappointment. Just like how you can’t tell if there’s still warmth in his eyes when he looks at you.
“How does it work?”
You blink, off guard. A woman raised her hand, curious eyes drilling into you. You prepared yourself for this, practicing in front of a mirror for hours on end. You got this. You need to. You might fall apart otherwise.
“So, essentially, it – “
“Or, how about you don’t make them at all? The puppets, I mean.” A man speaks up, hat hiding his gaze, but you feel the hatred and frustration radiating off him in waves. You prepared yourself for this too. But reality still sends you reeling back mentally, the thought of rocks being thrown, or stage set on fire. At least he pretends to be respectful, even with his group frowning at you.
Your body trembles the slightest bit.
“Oh – um… I understand where you come from. It’s… it can be difficult to see use in the puppets, but they’re mostly here for when you can’t do something or need extra help…” you can’t tell if you’re lying to him or saying the truth – it’s all part of the script. And truthfully, you agree with him.
You just keep your mouth shut on the matter.
“They’re taking our jobs, you know? Oh wait, you probably don’t – you’re well-off, producing and selling these… things.” The same man shakes his head before pushing others out of his way – he stops just shy of an inch before the stage. “You don’t have to worry about them stealing your job. For now, at least.”
He adjusts his hat, and the contempt in his eyes is so heavy you’re on the verge of drowning. You swallow. You do know, you do, but it’s not like you could do anything. You already tried, you tried, but talking doesn’t work and –
“Alright, alright, I think that’s enough for now.” Your uncle comes out, places a hand on your shoulder. It feels more restricting than comforting. “It’s been a rather long day for everyone, hasn’t it? The sun is going down, and dinner time is drawing near. Same place and time tomorrow, as it was yesterday and today.”
Unlike you, he sounds confident. Gentle, but firm, and yet, you’re starting to grow more wary of him than the protesters. You wish you could hurry and pick a side. Money or no money, everything was starting to seem more futile, meaningless. You want to live under a rock.
Live under a rock and become separated from your job. You tap your foot more aggressively, biting your lip once your back is turned to the crowd. Your hands twitch even with the control in your hands.
He doesn’t leave room for debate, guiding you on the shoulder to walk down the stage and to his little personal workshop. The police – puppets, again – prevent anyone from getting close. You weren’t here yesterday; it was just him. Did he go through the same thing? Is that why he’s so calm, so natural about it?
Or was he always like this? Disconnected from everything that did not concern his work, his dreams? His puppet, his –
“… Uncle,” you fiddle with the control in your hands. “Did anyone accompany you yesterday?” You can’t find it in you to look at him. Can’t even talk properly, no matter how hard you try to accept everything, like you should. It’s expected of you. And maybe it is because of that, that you can’t find yourself willing to do so.
“Mm. Howard did. It was a welcomed surprise.” He chuckles low in his throat, adjusting his hat as you make way home. Guilt immediately starts to boil within, your heart squeezing painfully as your throat closes in on itself. “He’s a fine young man indeed.”
“He is, isn’t? Such a nice young man…” you agree, nodding your head, ignoring the gnawing at your chest. You care about him, dreadfully so, to the point it was horribly painful. Which was why you tried to keep him out of your business.
But he was just so stubborn.
“Hm,” he takes a glance at you; eyes shifting from one side to another. You see it but don’t think much of it. But even so, you can’t ignore the lack of warmth in his gaze. “I heard he’s been visiting you more often now. Are you two perhaps…?”
“No! No, it’s not like that. It won’t ever be like that again.” You laugh, shaking your head. You fidget with the control more. You look down at your hands – scars and light burns decorate them like tattoos. No longer as ‘pretty’ as society would like to describe.
The though brings out a laugh.
“It just won’t work out.”
“How come?” He sounds interested, but not in a caring way – it was in a way that made you feel like a test subject. “You were such a great pair. He would have made an excellent son-in-law for your parents.”
You grit your teeth. “Yeah. He would have. But that’s neither here nor there; it’s in the past. And it will forever remain in the past.” Your face feels hot – anger? Shame? Annoyance and irritation jabbing at every corner of your very being, you try your best to remain stoic about the conversation. Even if you subconsciously know he’s taking a jab at you.
Even though he has no reason to.
You were sure of it now – all of the warmth that was inside your uncle was slowly becoming cold. Was he always this type of man? Cold? Disconnected from everything? But surely, there was still some left for you, right?
A faint chuckle. “I apologize – I shouldn’t have brought up the subject. I wasn’t aware that it was still a touchy subject.” His fingers dig into your shoulder before his grip loosens. He pats it twice before fully letting you go, turning his head to smile at you.
You think it was meant to be gentle. “It’s fine. It was my fault for… assuming you had other intentions by bringing it up.” It’s a lie. It wasn’t fine, and you both know that. But it should be okay, because he’s a man you consider to be your uncle, and of course uncle Geppetto always wants what’s best for you. It would crush you if he didn’t.
“Mm, that’s the spirit. Don’t let anything drag you down.” You’re at his personal workshop now, the wind picking up. It’s getting colder. The leaves are starting to fall more and more, flowers wilting as the days go by. Just like you.
“Now then, I hope you take great care of him. I have other business to attend to, but I wanted to make sure you made it back safe and sound.” Your uncle gives you exactly two pats on the back. Adjusting his glasses, he turns to look at you, smiling.
Smiling, smiling, smiling – it’s all he does. It’s what unnerves you the most. It’s what the citizens hate about him. It’s what unarms your family. It’s what feels the most inhuman about him.
“Yes, of course,” you reply, nodding your head. Your fingers start scrapping against the control gently. Foot tapping, you attempt to smile. “I would never harm… it. It is also my project, you know?”
It wasn’t.
“Mm, yes, of course. Thank you for all your hard work.” And with a tilt of his hat, he’s off – you watch his retreating back, the muscles with every movement. You just realized he could easily overpower you.
Your fingers dig harder into the control until you can feel your fingernails digging into your own flesh. You wonder if he would turn against you if you were to abandon this job field.
--
Two hours and forty minutes.
That’s how long you have been tampering with the legion arm – your uncle begged you to stop calling it a mechanical arm – greasing it, tightening the screws, making sure that the fingers curl just like a real hand would. And of course it did – it should, especially since nearly all your paychecks and funds go into this puppet and not your own personal life.
Two hours and forty minutes, plus two months and you’re barely about to be done with this damn thing. You finished two other ones before this, but even then, you might have to ‘fix’ them. Make sure that they’re up to your uncle’s very high standards.
“Fuck… why am I even working on this thing? This is the least of our concerns, not to mention – ow, fuck!” In your hurry to get another type of screwdriver, you pushed over a failed ‘heart’ test dummy. It lands directly on your foot, causing you to drop everything else as you hold it with your trembling hands.
They were doing that more often. “Wow, okay, great. Sure, let’s just let everything fall on you. God, I’m going crazy. I might turn into a menace before the protesters and puppets do.” Running a hand through your hair, you pace back in forth, biting your free thumb.
Every time you enter this godforsaken place, your sanity dwindles bit by bit. “Okay, let’s calm down – my foot isn’t bleeding, I think. I should… I should take a break.” Despite your words, you go back to working – picking up the old ‘heart’ and placing it back on the messy table.
Research papers messily stacked at a corner, puppet parts scattered all over, grease stains on the wood. The table wears scratch marks like medals of honor. Pausing for a moment, you walk to the far-right side of the table, picking up the papers and placing them into a clean square bin on the floor. You kick it to some random corner of the workshop.
The urge to rip them to shreds is, in a way, comforting. If those were gone, how could you continue on? They even had blueprints. Nails dig into your palms at the thoughts. Not harsh enough to draw blood, however.
“Hm, I should clean up… but what’s the point? Everything gets scattered again, uncle moves the parts to the most random of places, Howard ends up losing them… so much to do, such little time.”
Ranting to yourself, you stomp to the table again, picking up the new and ‘official’ heart for the puppet. You remember putting it elsewhere. In a drawer. Safe and sound.
And yet, it was on this stupid, stupid table –
“Are they trying to kill me?” you mumble out, on the verge of pulling out strands of your hair. “Not only that, but the fact I could have been harmed today… he knows they already threw stones at me, why make me appear in public again? Why get on the wooden stage that could easily be consumed by fire?”
Without thinking, you stride over to the puppet sitting on the red plush chair. When you’re shy a few inches from it, you take a moment to admire its beauty – the eyes were closed. Long eyelashes that cast shadows onto pale, freckled ‘skin.’ The carob brown hair still looked as soft as ever, with messy curls that remind you of his hair back when he was younger.
Back when everything was normal. Gentler times where warmth wasn’t forced into honeyed words, when you weren’t so scared of being beaten to death. When everything was fine. Happy.
It was missing the left arm – the legion arm. You cast a glance behind you, spotting the arm on the table. That’s the one he wants to put on for now. The most simple, basic one, no complicated functions, no paint, just metal. You decide to leave it.
Turning to face the puppet again, tilting your head, you really take in its appearance; it has an average body type. Maybe a bit more on the lean side, but aside from the pretty face and missing arm, it looked human. It looked normal.
And that’s what scares you.
“…,” against your better judgement, your hand reaches out. Fingertips graze against the cheeks, feeling how cold and smooth it was. It’s flawless compared to your hand. You pause to see if the puppet will move at your touch. When it doesn’t, you bring your hand up, taking a closer step to it. The hair was soft, fluffy. It didn’t feel fake like it should.
It felt real.
“… I shouldn’t be doing this. Hah. I really am going crazy.” The thread that was holding your sanity together was close to snapping. Again, against your better judgement, you act on impulse. Unbuttoning the white button-down, you feel your heart drop at how… human it looks.
But upon closer inspection, there was a thin line, forming a square across the chest. There was a little screw, the opening to inside of the chest. Huffing, you dig into your overcoat pocket, retrieving the specific screwdriver – your uncle makes you carry it like a lifeline. However, you are not sure if he thought it through – what if someone mugged you?
Your hand hesitates as you hold the screwdriver, hovering by the opening. The ‘heart’ was still in your hands. It starts to beat slowly, almost as if coming to life. “… Uncle might kill me if I mess with his favorite puppet…”
Instead of heeding your own words, you open the chest cavity, placing the screwdriver back into your pocket. You’ve seen it before; hollow, wires connecting with each other and to the sides. There’s a small open space where a human heart would be. You look at the one in your hand before nodding your head.
You were acting rebellious, in a way. And it may very well lead into your downfall, either being killed by a puppet going haywire or by your uncle’s red, blinding rage.
You hesitate before gently putting the ‘heart’ into its assigned area. Connecting the wires to it, patting it, watching as it starts to glow, beating steadily. You did not think twice about your actions. After a second, you close it, screwing it shut before walking serval steps away.
Nothing happens.
“Hah… ha-ha, what was I thinking? I went from zero to a hundred within a few minutes… I should take a few days off. Maybe even a week…” chuckling to yourself, you rub your head. You’re getting a migraine. Much be too much caffeine, that coffee would eventually kill you.
Turning around, you walk away from the puppet, heading towards the door to get some fresh air. To force some sanity back into your head before you scream your lungs out and pull out every single strand of your hair out. The longer you stay here, the worse you become.
Creak.
You stop in your tracks, blood turning cold. No. surely not – your eyes widen when you realize how stupid you are. You were dumb enough to connect the wires to the heart. But! When your uncle did that, this didn’t –
You turn your head around so fast you almost snap your neck. Your heart drops.
It opens its eyes, and the first thing it sees is you.
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bewarethewolfarmy · 9 months
Text
A Celebration For Two
(This is so self-indulgent buuuuuut it's my birthday and I reserve that right.
This is my first character x reader fic; hopefully it will at least tolerable. Comments are welcome of course
Update: Now with a sequel Things Better Unshared)
Erik had witnessed a number of celebrations for the date of others birth and never quite cared much for or about them, though it was hard to be certain whether this stemmed from his general disinterest in most people or a deep seated jealousy that they both knew and could celebrate their birthdays. It could easily be a mixture of both knowing him. But he had never before felt this sort of outright irritation and frustration seeing others gather for an, admittedly small, celebration.
It had to be for you though that such emotions could be pulled out. Not since Christine had simply watching someone interact with others elicit such jealousy from him but as he saw the other actors and dancers move about, wishing you a happy birthday, handing you small gifts and flowers and cards and smiling at you, he felt himself twitch with impatience, thinking of how he wished he could just rush down from the rafters to grab you, steal you away into the darkness and keep you all to himself. He had to hold back a growl as he saw one man, one of the many extras, no name, no talent, no use but who had the incredible audacity to actually smile at you, actually touch your hand and damnit if you didn't smile back, even if it was the light professional one that you knew to wear on stage. Not your real one, not that one that could light up a room and made his heart shudder just to think of, so warm, so kind, so his. But still you deigned to give a smile to this cretin who didn't know his left foot from his right and couldn't sing for anything; all of your smiles should be Erik's, he reasoned, he could play melodies that you had told him could bring the stars from the sky and make a soul float beyond heaven itself, and you always seemed happy to smile for him whenever you were alone. Even if it wasn't the smile he loved most from you, every smile should be for him, he hated to see you give one to any singular other person; upon the stage when it was directed at none was acceptable because then it could just be his still, but this wasn't.
He didn't blame you of course though, never you. The man handed you something, some small bouquet of flowers and you deigned to thank him, causing Erik to snort. A pitiful gift, certainly not worth one of your smiles, even a lesser one. His would outshine it entirely he was certain and after realizing you were on the move again he quickly followed from his hiding space within the rafters; he knew where you would be going, of course he knew and of course it would be there. He would need to move fast to get there first.
You somehow managed to sneak away from prying eyes and entered the side room, hidden away from all others, the only privacy easy for you to find. Christine had had a dressing room but you did not as you were still just one of the chorus, though not for lack of wish on Erik's part to make you more. Still having heard the stories of before, of what had happened and how it happened, you managed to convince him that trying to push you onto center stage was not a good idea, not to repeat the mistakes of the past but simply let things be; he agreed only as long as he got to hear you sing for him, as long as he still got to teach you even if you would usually gently admonish him when he got too intense about it. Something in that made him strangely happy, to be treated with both care and sternness by you; you were not afraid of him so much as you kept a cautious attitude towards his moods and would usually try gentle redirection before sometimes having to tell him off more sternly.
As you entered and closed the door you quickly felt your wrist be grabbed by the strangely strong grip of Erik. For a skeleton of a man who lived and thrived in shadows he was strong and such a touch always made you shiver even just a bit; to see it always made Erik smile and it was no different this time. You nearly dropped the flowers, a small defeat in his mind but one he was willing to let slide for now, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Erik...”
“Come,” he said and realized his tone came out equal parts desperate and short; he chewed his ruined lip and seeing this you placed your other hand over his with that smile, that beautiful warm smile, the one that made his heart flutter.
“Lead the way Erik.” Oh how much it pleased him when you said that name. He choose it himself, you knew that in the same way you knew so much more about him; in the darkness of the night, when you'd come to his lair and simply sit with him, he'd tell you stories to fascinate and amaze you, and with rapt attention you'd listen. And eventually those stories had turned to his life almost without him noticing and he had nearly broken down into tears once he did. But you, kind soul as you were to him, you had let him tell you in his own time and told him it wouldn't change a thing. He was still the fascinating and wondrous phantom in the walls, the protector of the opera, the man whose voice and music could bring tears to the eyes of the stoniest of hearts, and forever would he be to you that and so much more. And so he'd told you the truth, of what he had done to Christine, of what he had been, of the blood on his hands and the darkness in his past and heart, and you had listened and you listened and you listened some more. He knew he loved you when you had cried for him in the end and told him you were sorry for the things he had suffered, the pain and the anguish, and that you understood at least a little now of what made him the way he was. He knew but it had already been too late by the time he had started the tales.
Down, down, down into the darkness and the depths of the operahouse and before either of you knew it you were within familiar surroundings, that house of his rebuilt from the disaster before. Candlelight lit the sitting room and you took in a deep breath of the scent of roses and paper; sheets of music all around was scattered and you felt the urge to twirl in the room as you did every time he brought you here.
“Close your eyes.” He tried to hide all the emotions he was feelings, tamper them down and focus on now. You obeyed, the amount of trust you having in your dear phantom filling him with utter ecstasy every time and he had to resist the urge to giggle. He did not resist the urge to take the flowers from you and discard them none so gently elsewhere, they were unnecessary and unsuitable to someone like you; you deserved a crown of roses, of the most beautiful flowers and still they would not compare to the beauty of your soul he was certain.
Quickly he moved and tried to bring together all he had done. He had never done this before, not for his only friends the Daroga and Madame Giry and her daughter Meg, nor for the Shah he had once served or the sultana he had tried once to impress. Not even for Christine he had realized at some point, though not for lack of care or wanting to; he had simply not been ready to, too scared and uncertain, too weak to pull together to make such a spectacle. But you wouldn't dismiss his efforts surely, you wouldn't turn to another man despite it or make him think it was too much; rather he almost felt it was too little as he completed his preparations and with shaking voice told you to open your eyes again, wringing talented fingers together and once more chewing his lip as he watched you, waiting, hoping.
You opened your eyes and gasped. A hundred of your favorite flowers, arranged perfectly and making you wonder how he found so many to begin with. Beside them was a dress, beautifully tailored in silk and lace and you knew without trying it on that it would fit you without a doubt.
“I choose the color because I was certain it would match your eyes,” he said with all the confidence of a child, his eyes wide as he stared at you, “And I thought this sort of design would accentuate your body all the more, t-tastefully of course my dear songbird.”
“Oh Erik,” you said hands to your mouth.
“I-I also wrote you a song,” he said finding his nerve failing him and his fingers tapped air and each other, a nervous twitch that showed at times, “If I may I would like to-”
He found his words cut off by you moving to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him. It always startled him when you did, though it pleased him to no end nevertheless; the first time you'd willingly kissed him he'd nearly collapsed into tears, begging to know how he deserved such a thing. He still teared up every time it happened and now was no exception, allowing you to wipe away a tear from his eye, gently brushing your fingers over the deformed side of his face as you smiled.
“Sweet man, however could I ever thank you for such a beautiful gift?” His heart swelled and thumped in his chest, “You know I would love to hear you play, I always love it when you play for me but I wish I had a way to repay you for such wonderful things.”
“You repay me every day with your smile and your love, my songbird,” he said and leaned his face into your hand, appreciated and savored the warmth of your touch, of your love, even while wondering how he still deserved it, “You give me so much and this is but a small repayment on my part for all you do for me.”
“Still such hard work on your part, it makes my own gift seem so small.” Erik felt confused but you pulled away, leaving him then also feeling saddened by the lack of contact between you. He whined, just a little one, but the usual smile you would give when he did so did not come. You were far too focused on reaching into the small bag you usually kept at your side, in which he knew you often kept all sorts of things as necessary throughout the day.
Tonight you pulled out what seemed to be a long crimson knitted scarf. No not knitted, crocheted, and he recognized it as something he had seen you work on some nights as he had composed at his organ or rested his head in your lap in need of being close to you. The image of you working on it with your nimble fingers, the softness of your voice as you had hummed absentedly, it had been so terribly domestic it left him in awe every time. Now you held it out to him and he could see that initials had been knitted in: ED. Erik Destler, the name he had chosen for himself, the name he had claimed as his and that he loved to hear you say in that melodious voice of yours. His name. It had his name.
“A gift for Erik, on his songbird's birthday?” He could not help but slip into third person, his emotions starting to surge within him again.
You smiled and placed it gently around his neck. “You don't know what yours is and I thought, it would be nicer to share with you than simply have you celebrate me when I can't rightfully do the same for you.”
You pulled one end around his neck and he convinced himself that he was wrapped in your scent because you had made it. Surely that was true and even if not, this had still been touched by you, made by you, had to have a little bit of your soul embedded in it. And better yet you made it for him, for Erik, and you wanted to celebrate him, you wanted to share your birthday, your special day, with him!
He immediately started to tear up again and his lip quivered in that sad way it did. “You would share your birthday with Erik, you would want to do that for him? You made him a scarf, just for him, because you...you care...”
“Oh Erik, of course I care,” you said and leaned up to kiss his cheeks; there were far too many tears to wipe or kiss away, but you couldn't help but think how adorable your phantom was when he was like this.
You knew how to make the dam of emotions break and you knew exactly what to make him completely break down for you. “I know you likely have never heard this but I just wanted to say: I'm glad you were born, I'm glad you lived this long so we could meet but most of all that you came into this world so I could love you. Happy birthday Erik.”
And oh how that dam broke but to you there was no better gift than to know you had made the phantom, no, the man you loved so dearly so happy in kind. He was taller and stronger than you but you held him as he cried and thanked you for something so simple as a scarf and some words, nowhere near as grand as what he had made for you for your birthday. But you supposed this would have to be enough; you'd just need to plan better and more for next year.
“Happy birthday songbird, Erik is happy you were born as well, Erik is so very thankful that you were born and able to be here and with him and love him even despite his mistakes and his flaws and his deformities.” His words were delivered quickly and frantically but you knew they carried every bit of his truth.
And that, in your mind, was the best gift of all: knowing you were loved and could be here to love such an adorable and emotional man.
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dozing-marshmallow · 8 months
Note
i absolutely loved how you wrote my previous request! (them headcanons had me giggling and swinging my feet) soooooooo im back with another request! (if thats alright w chu of course) how about some jealous chris headcanons? maybe with a reader that points out attractive people a lot, like "oh damn he's kind of hot" "she's really pretty" (i realized i do this a lot so thought it might be a fun request)
Awwww I replied to your comment on that post, thank you so much for your kind words❤️!! I’m so happy I was able to provide headcanons that you loved and thoroughly enjoyed! I hope you feel the same with this one!  :]
And not a problem! I can definitely assure you this was a fun request to write for!
JEALOUS CHRIS MCLEAN HEADCANONS
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Chris Chris Chris.
What he wouldn’t give to be the sun of your life.
It depends on who you interact with and what you’re talking about, but most of the time he’ll tighten the grip he has on your hand or shift so close, his stubble would rub on you.
“(Y/N)... You still love me, right?” He’d ask, voice muffled from his face down on his bed.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He lifts his head up, looking straight at the wall,“I...just have this aching feeling.” clutching a pillow to his chest, his doubt oozing from his lips,“Every time I see you talking to other people, I always feel like eventually you might think they’re much cooler...than me...and leave me...and I’ll be alone...”
“Aww Chris.” You came over to kiss him,“I would never do that to you. You know there’s no one else like you, and you’re cool the way you are.”
He wants to believe you, but his doubt worsens when you both get invited to the Oscars as guests where you’re in a room of nothing, but other superstars.
“Hey Chris... Who’s that over that?”
He sees you’re interested. So, for obvious reasons, he’s remains completely vague,“That’s the lead star for that upcoming movie.”
“No way! Savannah Michael in Nightly Guitar?” So much for that,“I never realised how attractive she was!”
“Yeaah... Not more attractive than me though, right?” He’d plaster a smile at first. You’ll kiss him and tell him of course and he’d have nothing to worry about!
But you don’t. Instead, you ignored him and dug deeper,“Wow...she has that sparkle in her eyes.”
“Sparkle...? I have that in mine too...” he gently pulls his eyes down, somehow thinking you’d see whatever there was to see better that way. What was the point when you weren’t looking at him?
Instead, you were listening to her answering an interviewer with a sugarsweet answer of gratitude,“The way she cares for her fans is so sweet! I wanna be like her someday.”
That was the final straw. This time he doesn’t try to top it off- he grumbles and pulls you away,“Alright, that’s enough of her.”
“Woah, Chris! I still wanted to see her!”
“No! You’re supposed to be with me! I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.”
You sighed,“Chris, can’t I admire someone without liking them? Not everything is about you.”
You appeared to read his jealousy as simple annoyance that you weren’t glorifying him twenty four seven...which might have been the case too.
So Chris decided to show you he can be as sweet, in case some mutant hunk tries seducing you with flattery and care, you would already be used to it from him. No receiving the prickly end of his treatment for you!
But then, you’re gone. He looks around: you were at the other side of the room.
What were you doing over there? He makes his way to you,“Heyy (Y/N)!”
“Oh, Chris, hi! Whatcha doing?” You chirp.
From where he found you from, he didn’t get the full picture that you were in the middle of talking to someone. That someone? Daniel McNally.
He shuddered...similar last name? No biggie...
“I was just about to ask! How come you didn’t tell me you were going to speak to the uh, awesome Daniel?” He queried through sucking teeth,“He’s not bothering you, is he?”
“Oh, no! I knew he was going to be here tonight so I wanted to ask about some of his movies! I did tell you, but I must’ve said it as I was going over to him. Was there something you needed?”
Dang it,“I see... Well, now that I’m here, I’d love to hear more about it, and maybe try contribute to this civilised conversation.” He glares at Daniel in the eyes, but kept his tone the same,“That alright with you, (Y/N)?”
You kiss him on the cheek,“You’re always welcome!”
He saw the annoyance flash in Daniel’s eyes, and winked in response.
Well. He grew increasingly bored with the conversation- saying that though would lose his reason to be close to you, so he stuck to nodding.
“Woaah, getting a bit too close there, buddy. Be careful, it’s not guy code to go after someone else’s partner.”
“Chris?” That caught you off guard. He wasn’t even standing close! You grab his hand and pull him away into a space empty enough for a private talk,“Alright, what’s the matter with you? Why did you assume he’s trying to move to me?”
“Assume? No no no. I know he is. I see the way he’s looking at you, how he’s trying to impress you. And I don’t appreciate it.”
You don’t believe him,“Chris, you talk and boost to your admirers every chance you get and you don’t hear me complaining.”
“That’s different!”
“How?”
“I’m making it clear that we’re exclusive.”
“Yeah and clearly he knew that, before you came...” you fold your arms, slightly unhappy,“This is sounding more like you don’t trust me enough to have a civilised conversation.” 
By reusing his words, you cause his focus to shift away,“Chris.”
“You can’t blame me, okay? A cold hearted guy like me doesn’t deserve the warmth of a reincarnated sunflower... I guess I wanted some reassurance that you still love me the way I do you is all.”
“Is that seriously what this has been about?” You shake your head in dubiety. You don’t know what to say. Out of all the days to be jealous.
“Do you think...we could leave early? Pleaaaase?” He tightened his arm around you.
Shameless man. You sigh. That seems to be the only thing that’d make him feel better so you comply. You mainly came for the food anyway.
Bonus:
Looking back at it, for someone like Chris to be so worked up about securing his place in someone’s heart, was...adorable. Everything he did that night was just him displaying how proud he was to have you as his significant other, and subsequently how paranoid he was in losing you.
But he did steal one of the only chances you’d get to talk with your idols.
So you decide to do a little payback by pulling that joke on him where people would make a PowerPoint about who they would replace their loved ones with.
He was frowning when you set your laptop in front of him,“(Y/N)...” he must have read the title Guys I would leave my boyfriend for 
The corner of your lip curves upwards, pressing forward to the next slide saying “No one.” 
“See Chris. I wouldn’t replace you with anyone.”
He breathes out in relief, and starts smiling,“Whoo! That feels good to-“
“Yeah!” You interrupt him to get the punchline in i.e the next slide. Daniel McNally,“Uh...” you dramatise your expression as though you didn’t know how he got there.
The smile Chris had withered away into a quivering mouth,“I knew it...” Oh dear.
Turns out he didn’t know that this was a trend.
Either way, this wasn’t what was meant to happen!,“Chris, no! I-I don’t actually like him nor would ever leave you for him! It’s a prank people are doing! I’m not being serious, you know I would never do that to you!” You started shouting whatever came to your panicked mind, praying that one of those things would have him cured from his tears.
“So...you won’t leave me for him... What about...”
“Nooo, no one!” You pull him into your arms, his sobs wetting your shirt,“I’m sorrrry, it was a joke, I swear! I would never ditch you for another celebrity!”
Ah it feels great to have you hold him this way. :).
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ms--lobotomy · 2 months
Note
"You know, I've always wondered if things like you bleed."
I'm going to try my hand at pred/prey. The obvious choice would be anyone from the Night Lords, but Misty already wrote two fantastic fics with the concept so I'm going to go with (drumroll...) Sanguinius. Have fun!
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summary: sanguinius gets hungry 😊
word count: 930
content warnings: pred/prey vibes, consent is kind of dubious, vampire stuff
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The Red Tear was massive, and it was easy to get lost in. The walls were lined with art pieces done by various Blood Angels, delicately framed with ornate wood pieces. You kept a brisk pace through the flagship, your Remembrancer robes flowing behind you, only glancing at the paintings every so often. Your gaze came upon a painting of the Primarch Sanguinius whose eyes seemed to follow you around the room. You shuddered and continued on your way.
As you made your way through the winding hallway, the crowd thinned. You looked over your shoulder. Nothing but serfs and the odd space marine to be found. He would have made himself very apparent in the crowd; if his inhumanly tall figure wasn't enough, his wings gave him away.
You turned down one of the little hallways branching off of this larger one and scanned for a good place to hide. The paintings were sparser here, and not as well lit. You slowed your pace. There was an unassuming door up ahead. It looked perfect to hide in. So, you approached the door and entered the room.
You slumped against the wall, scanning the room. It must have been some sort of electrical hub, with wires and nodes all around you. It was big enough for a Primarch to fit in, but a hiding spot was a hiding spot. At least, it was until you heard footsteps heavier than any space marine's.
You felt your shoulders tense up as you pressed against the wall of this ugly room. "Did you think you could run forever, darling?" you heard a familiar voice ask from a little ways outside the room. His voice was saccharine sweet. You felt your heartbeat in your throat. Don't answer. Don't answer. The footsteps slowed to an agonizing pace. You could hear each one thunk against the ground.
You had time to think. No, you had to think, you couldn't do anything else. Why was he so interested in you? What did you have that others aboard the Red Tear didn't? You had only heard of his rage, you'd only ever had one in-person interaction with him. You were tasked to create a portrait of him before he'd gone into battle one time. He'd looked you up and down, smiled at you, and uttered those damming words.
"You know, I've always wondered if things like you bleed."
You could see his fangs glint while he talked. And you and him stared at each other for a few seconds, before he let out a slight chuckle. "If I were you, I'd run the second you get back on that battleship." He turned away to face his space marines, leaving you to contend with everything.
So you'd hurried your way back onto the battleship, face warm with as many emotions as you could feel at once. Confusion? Fear? Those were normal things to feel about this interaction. But there was something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.
And you hadn't time to think about this further, as the door was all but kicked open by the Primarch Sanguinius. You saw his crazed visage scan the room for you for a split second before his eyes came upon you. You wanted to run, you wanted to try your hand at escaping him, but that feeling you couldn't put your finger on was welling up again. So you froze.
He walked slowly towards you, a satisfied expression on his face. His wings fluttered a little behind him as he walked. When he got to you, he kicked your legs open, and knelt down in front of you. You beheld him, his pallid face perfectly framed with wavy blonde hair. You saw something almost mournful in his eyes. You saw restraint. His breath was hot on your face. You wanted to ask him why, why you, why he was fixated on you out of all of the people on the Red Tear.
He grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the wall by your head. You balled your hands into fists. "Show me your neck," he commanded. His head was slightly below yours, threatening to meet the top of your chest.
"And..." you trailed off, trying to fit the words to what you wanted to express. "And if I don't, my lord?"
He tightened his grip on your wrists, threatening to leave a bruise. He grit his teeth slightly, his fangs visible again. "Just let me feed," he said, a desperate plea in his voice. "Please?"
"Alright," you relented, exposing your bare neck. His hand left your fist to brush a strand of hair away from your neck. His touch was impossibly light on your skin. You winced as you felt his fangs sink into your flesh, the fists that you had bared reduced to hands twitching about. You felt weak against the wall. His wings enveloped you, threatening to never let go. Just before you felt like you were going to drop to the ground, Sanguinius relented.
You looked down at him. There was a more feral desire in his eyes now, even if the color returned to his cheeks. A little bit of blood poured from the wounds that he had made, but his focus was not there. You felt his eyes roving the contours of your body again, and felt that funny feeling welling up again.
"Anything else I can help you with, my lord?" you asked as you felt a hand go up your robes.
"Just relax," he said as you felt his hand upon your chest.
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nirvanawrites111 · 7 months
Text
Boyfriend #2 Changbin x Reader(Kinktober 2023)
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Pairing: Changbin x Reader
Word count: 1412
Pronouns: She/Her
Summary: You're on a break with Channie.. again and you decide to hook up again with Changbin. He's definitely a simp for you.
Warnings: Smut, good girl kink, cum eating, unprotected sex, fingering, strong language, PWP
SMUT BELOW THE CUT: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLS.
Changbin x Reader
"Are you going to keep talking about him, or do you want this dick?" Changbin asks you.
His bluntness was the thing that you'd always liked about him. Sure, he'd listen to you go on and on about how your current boyfriend wasn't shit. But, you both knew you weren't really here to complain about Channie.
You're here to feel better. Well, at least your pussy would feel better even though your heart probably won't after you leave. But, what difference does it make? You were on your 5th break from Channie because you found incriminating DMs.
"Binnie, you said I could vent about him."
"Yeah, I did. But, I think you just need to cum, and you'll forget all about whatever you did."
"I definitely do," You reply. You stand up from his couch and go into his bedroom. You remove your hoodie and toss it onto his couch that is adjacent to his bed.
His mood lamp is already on, and the room is a pretty lavender hue. You step out of your leggings, and you stand near his perfectly clean dresser. You notice a picture you haven't seen in a while. It's just you and him with his arms wrapped around your waist.
It was at Hongjoong's mixtape release party a few years ago when you were single and just co-workers with Chan and Changbin.
For some reason, this photo brings up some weird feelings for you. That night was the first time you hooked up with Changbin.
You always wonder what things would have been like if you had dated Changbin instead of Bangchan. Maybe, you wouldn't cry as much. Or, maybe you would.
But the strange thing is you haven't known Binnie to be in any relationships since you've met him.
Changbin's footsteps are in an earshot of you, and you feel his fingertips smooth around your waist. He gently kisses you on the side of your neck.
"You remember that night?" Changbin asks you.
"Yea, Hongjoong's mixtape party."
"Oh, that's all you remember?"
"Uh, I sucked your dick in the bathroom."
"And I took you home and fucked you for like two days straight."
Your body shudders just from hearing him saying that. Those two days were the best days of your life. It's funny how you two were able to go to work the following day as if nothing happened.
Changbin pulls you in tighter against his bare stomach and boxers. He laps at the side of your neck, and juicy moans escape from your mouth.
"Yeah, I didn't want to leave," you moan out.
"Well, maybe this time you won't. Can I touch you?"
"Yes."
Changbin rubs his hand over your pussy outside of your underwear, and already you are ready for him.
"I love how easily you react to me, baby."
You love hearing him call you baby. There is something about how sweet this man can be with you. You often wonder if he is this way with other people. You would hate to imagine other people getting this wet for him.
Changbin runs his hand down your slit and then back up. He quicks, finds your clit, and massages it through your panties. He lifts your chin up.
"Look at yourself.. so beautiful. Too beautiful to be crying over Chris. Right?"
You stare at yourself half nude with Changbin wrapped around your body. His muscles are perfect. You love the way his body looks against yours. You love your curves and how beautiful you look. He's right. You shouldn't be crying over him.
You are so beautiful, just like he told you.
"Yes."
"No, say it in the mirror, baby. Say it so I can hear it."
"I am beautiful," you confidently say as you stare into the mirror.
Changbin slides his hand inside your panties and slips down into your wetness to coat his finger. He massages your clit and kisses on your cheek.
"Such a good girl. I love it when you affirm yourself."
This man has your mind dizzy already. The sensation of him playing with your clit feels too good, almost as good as when you do it. You like that you don't have to teach him how to touch you. He already knows what you need when you need it.
Changbin continues to work his magic, and his talented fingers dance against your clit, bringing you closer to your first orgasm. It doesn't take much for you to get off when he's involved.
"Please, don't stop," you whine a bit.
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I know my girl is close, aren't you, baby." Changbin bites on your neck and the right pressure that isn't too hard, but isn't too gentle.
Your body rides the first wave of your orgasm, and you close your eyes and release. Changbin sticks two fingers inside of you, and you cum on his fingers.
He pulls them out and coats your lips with your own juices. He moves in front of you and picks you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he kisses you to savor the taste of you. You enjoy the way he kisses you, always so passionate.
Changbin tosses you onto the bed and pulls down your panties.
You spread your legs for him, and he plants a kiss on your pussy. Normally, you would want him to eat you out, but the reality is you came for dick. Sure, you came over to vent, but the bottom line is you want to get your back blown out.
"Fuck me.." You whisper just loud enough to catch Changbin's attention. He continues to kiss your pussy, and your back arches just a little.
"You sure about that?"
"Yes, I just want to be fucked good."
"Okay, Y/n."
Changbin is all about pleasing you and making you feel good. There's no doubt in your mind. You watch him slide out of his boxers, and his thick, juicy length flops out. He's already hard, and ready to give you exactly what you came for.
He moves in between your legs, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.
Your eyes connect with his, and he's staring intensely into your eyes like you're the most beautiful woman in the whole world.
He doesn't even have to say it because he's already told you a million times, but the way he looks at you is more than just a lustful stare.
Changbin is captivated by you—more than just your beauty. You notice the glances when you are working together in the studio, but you always avoid them out of respect for Chan. But, tonight, you are a single woman, and you deserve to be adored.
"Binnie, why are you looking at me like that?"
"You know, why."
"No, tell me."
"I like watching you."
"I've noticed."
"You ready?"
"Of course."
Changbin guides himself into you inch by inch until you are full of him. He starts off slow, trying to find his rhythm with you.
You adjust to his size for a moment, trying to gather yourself, and you relax your body as he's giving you a moment to get yourself prepared.
Changbin runs his finger across your bottom lip, and down your throat. He plays with your left nipple, and moves slowly inside of you.
The movement is perfect, and his touch against your skin feels so good. Your bodies mesh together and are the perfect blend.
Your legs grip tighter around his waist as he thrusts into you, and you moan his name.
"Fuck me, harder," you request from him.
Maybe you shouldn't have told him that because he goes faster and a bit more rough with you. He doesn't even have to ask you if you like it because your eyes are already rolling back in your head from the pleasure.
Changbin let goes of your nipple just to instantly find your clit. He works it in perfect circles just the way you crave, and you can feel yourself approaching that second orgasm.
"That's it, baby. Cum on my dick... You're taking me so well." "Mmhmm.." You want to say more, but your mouth doesn't release any words, just moans, and whines because Changbin has taken your body to another level.
"So close, beautiful. Release for me." At that moment, your body reaches its peak, and you cum for him. It's such a beautiful experience to be sent to a whole another dimension thanks to your lover.
After you come back down from your high, Changbin pulls out of you and kisses all over your face.
"You did so good for me, baby. Shall we go another round?"
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justmeinadaze · 6 months
Text
Him and I (Steddie X You)
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Prequel to Without Me / Part 2: You Should Be Sad Here
A/N: ENTER WITH CAUTION! Like my previous chapters THIS WILL MAKE YOU FEEL! Its angsty and dealing with dark themes of addiction. I WILL STILL LOVE YOU IF YOU CHOOSE TO SKIP THIS STORY!
Warnings: Toxic Steddie X Fem Reader, SMUT, I wanted to show the two parts of them and how the treated her before and after they started getting worse with their vices. The first half involves loss of virginity for the reader, dirty talk, kinda rough but more passionate I would say, The second half is definitely rougher, more dirty talk, degrading (whore, slut, etc), spanking, choking, Y/N is a willing participant in both instances!
Some FLUFF, they really do love her and vice versa but unfortunately they love their addictions more.
ANGST: DARK THEMES OF ADDICTION! Steve is an alcoholic and Eddie is a drug addict. Reader mentions more in Without Me how she's addicted to them and I feel like that's explored a bit more here. She gets on them a lot about their vices and every time they are dismissive. There are mentions of their childhoods and we do get an interaction with asshole older Harrington here (he belittles Steve and smacks him).
The accident from Without Me is here but with some details. Its more about Eddie and Steve's interaction before they ran and left her. We also get a glimpse of her in the hospital waiting for them.
Again NOT A WARM FUZZY STORY! I won't blame you if you choose to skip it <3
Word Count: 7874
1982
“That was…the grossest fucking thing you two evil people have ever shown me.”, Steve shudders as the three of you exit the theater. 
You and Eddie cackle as you follow behind him out the front door. 
“Oh, don’t be a fraidy cat, Harrington. It wasn’t even scary.”, the metalhead teases.
“I thought it was creepy. What would you do if I started to transform into some evil screeching alien?”
“I would still think you’re beautiful, honey.”
“Aw, Steve Harrington, you’re so sweetheart.”, you joke as you stick out your tongue.
Tonight was a much needed reprieve from all the chaos you and your two best friends had been dealing with.  Junior year at Hawkins high was shaping up to be an exhausting one. Steve’s dad was on him much more and with more vigor than he had before reminding the younger Harrington that his future was looming just off in the distance. 
“Steven! It’s time to buckle down and really focus. No more playing around, son. You need to focus on bringing up those grades and being a better athlete so you can get into a good college. I don’t hire losers at my firm!”
The older Eddie got the worse the town and student body seemed to be with him. 
“What’s wrong, freak?!  To busy focusing on your satanic shit? Get lost and take off that fucking Dio vest! You look fucking stupid.”
He did everything he could to focus on other things but idiots like Jason Carver and the other jocks were always around to make his life hell. 
That’s probably why they both seemed to “let loose” more than usual or at least that’s how they described it to you the first time you noticed them excessively drinking and doing drugs. 
“It just takes the edge off you know?”
“Is it? Steve, you have a flask now that you carry with you. Why would you need to do that?”
“It’s not a big deal, Y/N. It’s not like I have a real problem or anything.”
“Yeah, it’s just to relax. Here, sweetheart, you look like you need to chill out for a bit.”, Eddie adds as he offers you some of the white powder from the bag you noticed on his dresser. 
“Um, no thank you. I think I’m ok weed.”, you giggle trying to laugh off the worries that bubble in your stomach. 
You had started worrying about them more and more since this past summer. When you guys started high school, you noticed a change in them that wasn’t just normal adolescences. Steve’s words started to slur more throughout the day and whenever you three would spend time together his breath would smell so strong like a bar that you’d have to take a few steps away from him so you wouldn’t cringe every time he opened his mouth. 
Eddie’s personality would shift at random points. In the mornings he would seem like the metalhead you befriended and then by lunch his behavior would be so erratic that it would frighten you sometimes. By the final bell, you would notice him staring off into the wall or even find him passed out in the back of the library.
Your mind always explained it away with different excuses almost as quickly as the ones they gave you when you asked questions. 
“Hey, do you guys want to come over? My parents are out of town this weekend.”
“Sure. Sounds like fun.”, you beam up at him.
***
You woke up that following morning on Steve’s bedroom floor with Eddie beside you and the other boy passed out leaning against the wall with his long legs stretched out towards you both. Quietly, you got up to use the bathroom, checking your reflection in the mirror before you ventured downstairs to grab some breakfast. 
Your eyes scanned the photos along the stairs, sympathy washing over you as you noticed Steve’s uncomfortable demeanor in all of them. His house always had a sad air surrounding it. It never felt exactly lived in and when his parents were home, neither seemed happy. Both he and the metalhead spent a lot of time at your place which you didn’t mind. You loved their company and you wanted them to feel safe. 
Your parents always treated them like family and that’s how you saw them as well. You knew what both boys had been through and were still going through. Anything you could do to make things easier for them, you did with little to no question. 
After opening his pantry, something immediately caught your eye. Within the trashcan were a ton of empty liquor bottles. Not just single beer containers but bottles of whiskey that should last a long time in a house with one occupant, emptied and discarded. 
“Hey Y/N. What are you doing up?”, Steve groggily asked as he entered the kitchen. 
“Steve Harrington, what is this?”, you inquire back showing him the contents within the trash. 
The man’s eyes widen and it takes him a moment before he nervously chuckles. 
“Uh, my parents had a party last week so—”
“Your parents weren’t home last week. You told me they were on a business trip which is why you spent the night at my house because you didn’t want to be alone.” The two of you stared each other down until you finally continue. “You drank all this by yourself?”
“It’s…it’s not a big deal, honey.”
“DON’T you honey me, Steven!”
“What’s going on?”, Eddie asks after loudly banging down the stairs. 
“Did you know he was drinking this much?!”, you shriek as you show him what you found.
“I mean, it could be worse, Y/N.”
“HOW?! How can it be worse?! Are you fucking kidding me?! Rock bands don’t even drink this much!”
“Y/N! Come on. You’re making this into a big deal when it’s not!”
“Fuck you! I’m not going to watch you drink yourself to death. I love you but this is excessive!”
Stomping past them both, you head for the front door but the man hastily cuts you off and blocks you from leaving with his body. 
“Y/N, please. Shit… I’m sorry, okay? You’re right. I have been going overboard lately. It’s just everything with my dad and school… I promise this will never happen again.” As your arms fold over your chest, his beautiful eyes scan your angry frame. “You’re the only one that ever cared about me, Y/N; you and Ed of course.”
You sigh as your demeanor softens. 
“I DO care about you a lot, Steve. You know you can talk to me about anything and I’ll be there for you no matter what. You both don’t have to numb yourselves the way you do.” Eddie nods as you turn towards him, his head hanging in shame. “I worry about you two so mu—"
As you swivel back towards the other boy, you’re surprised when you are met with his lips on yours. You had never been intimate with them in any fashion up until this point, always seeing them as your best friends. You’d be lying, however, if you didn’t say Steve’s lips tasted good. 
He pulled away from you for a moment, the two of you panting into each other’s mouths as you process what just happened. Before you could do anything or even respond, a ring covered hand grabbed your arm and yanked you against a bare chest as Eddie’s own lips connected with yours. 
You could still hear the other boy’s heavy breaths causing you to groan at the sound. Lifting you onto the end table by the door, the metalhead hastily tugged down your pants and panties while Steve came up beside you to lift off your shirt and toss away your bra. 
Eddie’s fingers dug into your thighs as he opened your legs wide and kneeled in front of you, making you whimper when he shoved his face into your cunt. 
“Wa-Wait. I’ve—fuck—I’ve never done anything s-sexual before.”
A heavy growl emitted from both men as the long-haired boy sucked and flicked his tongue along your clit while Steve’s lips attached to your neck. Moving his friend out of the way, he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the couch.
You watched with wide, lust blown eyes as Steve pushed his shorts down enough to free his cock, spit in his hand, and stroked it along his length. 
“St-Steve, you’re so big. It won’t fit.”
His honey brown eyes met your own and it was almost like for a moment he had forgotten it was your legs he was between. Tenderly, he leaned forward to kiss your lips. 
“It will, honey. I promise. I’ll go slow, ok? Unless…do you want me to stop? I just…you are the only one to care about us. I love you so much, Y/N. Let us make it up to you.”
Your gaze momentarily shifted to Eddie who was looking at you with the same gentleness that you saw when you first met him all those years ago. Licking your lips, you kiss him again before shaking your head. 
“Just…go slow…and keep talking to me…please.”
Your arms clung to his neck when you felt the head of his cock line up with your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat as he began pushing in and on instinct you tried to push him away from you. 
“No, no, baby. You’re ok. E-Eddie, fuck, can you—”
Eddie quickly came up to your side and held you still with his hands as Steve pushed another inch into your hole. 
“God fucking damn it, you’re so fucking tight.”
“Are you ok, sweetheart?”, the other boy whispered in your ear.
“Hurts.”
“I know, baby. It’ll feel good soon. I promise.” His lips comforted you as he kissed your cheek and your head arched back as the other boy slide further into your body. Eddie licked his fingers and reached between your bodies to rub slow circles into your bundle of nerves as Steve kept going.
“Fuck, Eddie!”, you screamed causing the boy inside you to grunt when your pussy clenched around him. 
“Y-You like that, honey? You like Eddie’s fingers on your clit. Fuck, you’re doing so good, Y/N. I’m almost all the way in.”
“Steve…you’re so big…”
His cock twitched at your words and you groaned as the pain began to slowly dull. When his hips connected with yours, your eyes rolled back as his length grazed against that sensitive spot inside of you, you didn’t even know existed. 
Leaning on to his knees, his palms held your calves as he pulled himself almost all the way out before roughly thrusting back in.
“Steve!”
“Fuck, Y/N. Keep shouting my name like that, baby.”
Eddie’s hand petted your head, as the other boy set a steady pace.
“You’re doing so well, pretty girl. You look so beautiful like this. You deserve to feel good to. Does it still hurt?” He smiled when you shook your head. “How does it feel?”
“G-Good.”
“Yeah? Tell him, sweetheart.”
As your eyes scanned over Steve you couldn’t help but marvel at him as you view him through this new filter. Usually, you only saw him as a friend. You never really thought about his gorgeous eyes or perfect lips. The way his broad hairy chest looked so sexy glistening with sweat. You never noticed that one lock of hair that fell just so as his head tilted forward or how low and gravelly his voice was when he was turned on. 
“You feel so good, Steve.”
“Oh come on, Y/N. Tell him how you really feel. It’s just us.”
The boy tilted forward, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and you moaned as your fingers tangled in Steve’s hair. 
“F-Fuck… your cock feels so fucking good. I-I can feel you in my stomach.”
His lips trailed up your chest to your neck and your eyes fluttered shut as you turned your head to the sound of his voice in your ear.
“I feel good, baby? Fuck, Y/N. I’ve—I’ve never had a pussy that felt this amazing before. You were made for us, honey.”
“Steve, I… I feel… Something’s happening.” Your arms circle tightly around him as he thrusts into harder and faster. “Steve!”
“That’s it, pretty girl. Oh my god. Cum all over my cock!” You screamed his name as an intense, pleasurable feeling you had never felt before washed over you. “Goddamn it.”, he grunted as he quickly pulled himself out of your quivering entrance and you watch with heavy eyes as he stroked his length over you, releasing his seed on your belly. 
Lost in a haze of bliss, you barely felt both boys switch places and Eddie flip you over positioning your ass in the air. When his tongue licked a long strip up your folds, however, you gasped as your body shuddered against the couch. 
“So sensitive. I like that. Jesus, sweetheart, you taste so sweet. Are you ready for me?” When you don’t answer, his chest presses against your back as his fingers move your hair to the side. “Are you ready for me, Y/N, or did you want to stop? We can stop if you want to, baby girl. We’ll still love you.”
Craning you neck slightly, you able to meet those beautiful chocolate eyes. You had never noticed how intense they were especially when they were full of care like they were now. You never noticed how kissable Eddie’s lips were or how seductive they looked when they pulled back into a smirk. It never occurred to you how much bigger his gorgeous hands actually were compared to yours as he balanced himself so he wouldn’t crush you as he whispered in your ear. 
“You both love me?”
Your question threw them both off guard. 
“Of course, we do. There’s no one else in the world like you.”
“You helped make us who we are, Y/N.”
Steve’s words hit you like a train. You just found a trashcan full of liquor he had been hiding from you. They were both utilizing drugs and alcohol to a degree that was beginning to become concerning. Maybe…maybe they’d be worse if it wasn’t for you. Maybe you could help them get better and heal so they wouldn’t need to turn to that stuff.
“I love you to. I’m ready, Eddie.”
You both groaned as he ran his mushroom tip between your puffy lips, collecting your slick before he gradually began guiding himself inside of you. Your back arches up, pushing against his chest as he stretches you open. It didn’t hurt as bad as with Steve but Eddie was thick and it still felt like you were being ripped in half. 
“G-God, Y/N. Steve was right…how can you still be this tight?”
His arms wrapped around your body as he began pounding into you. In this position, you were feeling all new pleasurable sensations that had your toes curling as he grunted into your ear. 
“Do—mmm—do I feel good to, sweetheart?”
“Y-yes.”
“Keep talking to me, Y/N. The way you did with him. Really let go, babe.”
“Your cock…feels so good…Eddie. You’re so…deep.”
Lifting himself onto his knees, he yanked you up with him, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the house. 
“K-Keep going.”
“I can’t. Fuck. I’m…”
“Yes, you can. I can feel your pussy squeezing me. Beg me, baby. Beg me to make you cum like he did.” When you didn’t answer him again, he placed his fingers on your clit, moving them so fast as he matched his own rhythm.
“Eddie! Oh my…Please! Make me cum. I want to cum again! Please…”
The metalhead pushed your face down into the sofa as he did what you asked, slamming is cock into you till the coil snapped and you shouted his name as you came. He soon followed, moaning obscenities as he pulled out and came on the meat of your ass. 
Unsure of what happens next, you remained frozen in that position as you listened to Eddie’s heavy pants. You were a complete mess, naked, hair frayed, and everyone including your own arousals dripping from your body. 
 “Whoa! Hey, it’s ok. I’m just picking you up to take you upstairs so we can get you clean.”, Steve explained when he felt you flinch. 
You sighed exhaustedly as he lifted you up and you clung your arms around his neck. Eddie ran ahead and as soon as you both entered the bathroom your bath was ready. Sitting there quietly, you starred off into the tile in front of you as they ran a washcloth along your skin. 
“Y/N?” The metalhead reached for your chin and gently turned you to face them both. “Are you alright? We didn’t hurt you or anything, right?”
When you shook your head, they exchanged a glance.
“What are you thinking about, honey?”
“Why? Why now? You two have had so many other girls in your life—”
“None like you.”, Steve interrupted. “I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I love you. My dad doesn’t give a fuck about me, my mother is never here, the girls at school just want me because I’m ‘popular’.”, he rolls his eyes. “You’ve never wanted or expected anything out of me. You treat me like I’m not fucking worthless.”
“Because you’re not, Steve.”
“When my mom died, I thought I’d never be happy again. Then I met you guys. Baby, I love you to. Even with Wayne sometimes I feel like I’m burdening him.”
“You’re not, Eddie. He loves you.”
“I know but I get what Steve is saying. We hear all this bullshit enough and it just sinks in you know? But with you…”
“We’ll still be your best friends, Y/N, even if you don’t want us like that.”
“I didn’t say that.”, you smirk as both their gazes shift towards you. “I would like to be wined and dined though.”
“You wanna go out on a date?”
“Yeah. Maybe we can check out that new Star Wars movie and then—”
“We can take you to dinner.”, Eddie beams. “Treat you like a princess.”
############
1983
“Wow, Steven, you suck at this.”, Eddie teases as you giggle from the side while you both watch Steve try to shoot one of the balls on the pool table into the corner pocket. 
“Well shit, Edward. Do you wanna wrap your arms around me like you do with Y/N and teach me to be better.”, the pretty boy slurred as his cue missed the ball entirely. “Fuck.”
The metalhead extended out his arms toward him as he began to sing. 
“Love lift us up where we belong.”
“Don’t you touch me.”, he laughs as they both flash each other a toothy grin. 
“Come on, princess. Show him what I taught you.”
Playfully swaying your hips as you saunter over, your eyes flick to them as you line up your shot. Steve tosses back the liquid in his flask and Eddie lights his fourth cigarette in a row. He’s getting antsy which means soon, he’ll excuse himself to the bathroom where he’ll snort his powder and come back with half lidded, glassy eyes. 
You savored small moments like this where you could. Where you three were having fun and they weren’t totally clouded over by their vices. Tonight was a regular date night and you were so happy that they didn’t seem to be in a bad mood. You always knew how ever it wouldn’t take much for that spark to ignite though. 
Beaming at them, they clap for you obnoxiously loud as you make your shot. 
“That’s our girl!”
“Shut the fuck up, freaks!”, Jason Carver hollers from the corner of the bar.
“Go to hell, Jason!”, you shout. 
The jocks cackle at your comment as Andrew’s eyes rake across your body. 
“Little girl has a mouth on her. Maybe we can show her how to use it.”
Eddie stomped towards them before you could stop him. 
“Say that a little louder, asshole. I don’t think I heard you correctly. That ‘little girl’ is my best friend and you willshow her fucking respect!”
“Go to hell, Munson.”
“HEY! Knock it off or I’ll kick you all out!”, the owner shouted as he glared where you guys were standing. 
“Come on, Ed. Let’s get out of here.”, you try and sooth him in a calm voice. “Please.”
Angrily turning away, he barrels out the door as you run after him. 
“Eddie, it’s ok.”
He ignores you as he opens his van door, pops open the glove box, and pulls out the little glass vile of his drug. You watch with helpless eyes as he pours some on the edge of his hand near his thumb and snorts the contents.
“That’s not going to help anyone.”, you growl.
“Yeah, well, no one fucking asked you. Let me ask you something. Why did you want me to stop? Huh? Do you want to fuck Jason and his stupid friends?”
“Have you lost your fucking mind? Of course, I don’t.”
“Pfft, please. Little whore like you can’t help herself.”
“Fuck you, Eddie.” 
As you turn and try to walk away, he grabs your arm and tries to keep you from leaving. 
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
“I’d rather walk than deal with this bullshit.”
“Guys…”, Steve slurs as he appears beside you. “Can we do this later? I’m fucking exhausted.”
***
Driving his van for them, you all went back to Steve’s house and let them talk you into staying over. Around two in the morning, yelling startled you awake causing you to panic when you realized Steve wasn’t beside you. 
“Eddie.”, you murmured forcefully as you shook him. “Eddie!”
“Jesus H Christ, WHAT?!”
“Something is happening downstairs. I think Steve needs our help.”
“He’ll be fine. Just shut the fuck up and go back to bed.”, he grumbled as he rolled over. 
Ignoring him completely, you quietly tiptoed out of the bedroom and leaned against the railing as you listened to Mr. Harrington screaming at his son. 
“This is a $500 dollar bottle of bourbon, Steven! I save it for important clients not my idiot kid and his friends.”
“For the thousandth time, I didn’t drink it!”
“Oh, so all of my alcohol just disappears then. Even though you, the freak, and that whore are here a majority of the time alone.”
“Don’t call her that.”, Steve grunted through gritted teeth.
His dad stepped forward and smacked him hard across the face. 
“Don’t talk to me in that tone of voice.”
Running down the stairs, you put yourself between them. 
“Leave him alone! He’s not drinking what’s yours.”
“Everything in this house fucking is mine, little girl. I paid for it with my hard-earned money. What the fuck has he done? Nothing and that’s all he will ever be. The sooner you figure that out the better.” Mr. Harrington raises his finger and points to his son. “You owe me $500 dollars or I swear to God, Steven.”
With that his dad furiously left the house, slamming the front door for emphasis. Quickly facing him, you cup his cheeks in your hands, and check him over.
“Are you alright, baby?”
“Why the fuck did you do that, Y/N?”, he asks in a sharp tone. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Marching towards the kitchen, he opens cabinets till he finally finds a bottle of whiskey that actually still has some liquid within it. You glared at him as he knocked it back, panting when he finally removed his lips from the glass. 
“You both promised me you would slow down on stuff like this.”
“Yeah, well, we don’t answer to you, honey. If you don’t like it, you can fucking leave.”
“Maybe, Andrew is still at The Hideout. He can give you a bed for the night.”, Eddie sneered as he rounded the corner and leaned in the doorway.
“Fuck you both. I’m fucking done.”, you spat. “You want me to leave? You got it.”
You headed towards his room, throwing off his clothes so you can put on your own and head home. You knew better. You knew you should have just left but part of you was hoping they’d beg you to stay, groveling at your feet as they told you they loved you. You wanted them to fight for you…show you that they needed you as much as you felt like you needed them. 
And they would…in their own inebriated way…
“Why the fuck are you still here?! I thought you were leaving?!”, Eddie shouted when he found you. Grabbing your pants from the floor, he threw them down to the first floor with your shoes and socks. “Get a move on, baby!”
Ignoring him, you banged your feet loudly down the stairs but as you bent down to grab your jeans, Steve came up behind you and captured your wrist turning you to face him. 
“You made things worse by butting in.”
“No, Steve, you make things worse by continuing to drink. Why?! Why do you two do this?”
The man rolls his eyes as he takes a swig from the bottle in his hand. 
“Please. Like you fucking care. You’re going to break our hearts just like they did. May as well just leave now, honey, and leave us in peace to destroy ourselves. It’s what Eddie and I are good at, right bud?”
Eddie’s only response was a deep inhale that you knew was his him snorting his blow. 
Shaking your head, you turn to leave but he doesn’t release you from his hold. 
“I thought you said I could leave, Steve. That’s what you want right? To fulfill your own prophesy of me abandoning you.” You try to yank your arm back but he just tugs you close to his chest, glaring down at you with angry eyes. “It’s not like I’ve been by your sides and both your best friend since we were little kids.”
Sarcastically, you laugh knowing what you say next will rile him up but you don’t care. In this moment, you were in so much pain after the way they spoke to you. You were fully prepared to give them a taste of their own medicine. 
“Your dad was right. You are nothing.”
In one swift motion, he released your wrist and took hold of your hair, leading you to the couch where he bent you over the arm.
“I’m nothing, huh? HUH?!”, Steve shouted near your ear as he leaned over your back. “Say it again, little girl! Come on. Let me hear it!”
“You’re nothing, Steve Harrington! I thought you wanted me to fucking leave! I’m going to abandon you anyway, RIGHT?!”
His palm came down hard on your behind, making you yelp before he moved the cotton blocking your core and abruptly pushed two of his long, thick fingers into your sex.
“You’re not going fucking anywhere tonight, babe. Not until we’re done with you.” You groan as he curls his fingers inside you and spanks you again. “You always talk back but you’re still so fucking wet for us, aren’t you? AREN’T YOU?!”, he yells as he hits you again.
“YES!”
“Fuck, just listen to that pussy, Munson.” The sound of your slick fills the room as he thrusts his fingers at a faster pace. “Fucking whore is always ready.”
“Probably why she can’t help but eye fuck this entire town.”, Eddie condescends as he comes around to sit on the couch in front of you. 
“Please…”, you moan as the coil tightens in your stomach. 
“Please.”, he mocks making you growl before his fingers roughly pinch your cheeks. “Control the fucking attitude, Y/N. Since we’re nothing and we do nothing for you, might as well use you one last time and I’ll be damned if you’re going to look at me like that.”
Steve spanks you again causing you to whimper as your pussy clenches around his fingers and you cum hard around them. After literally ripping off your panties and Eddie tugging off your shirt, the other boy loops his arm around your waist, carrying you around the front of the sofa, and tossing you on it. You wince as you fall a little harder than you should of making both boys freeze. They don’t genuinely want to hurt you; they never have. You know what they’re doing right now is an outlet especially for Steve after what happened with his dad. They needed to feel in control and so did you. You desperately needed to feel like you could reign them in and keep their vices in check so it didn’t get worse. 
If they needed to use you so they didn’t use themselves, so be it.
Your eyes flick between theirs before a slow, cool laugh leaves your lips. 
“Oh, come on, boys. Don’t pretend like you fucking care now. I’m a whore right, Ed? Steve? Come on, baby.” You coo in a sarcastic tone as you push up on your knees and wrap your arms around the man’s neck. “Prove to me you’re not nothing. Show me what a real Harrington man is.”
With newfound motivation, he manhandled you till you were on your hands and knees facing Eddie’s lap. You mewled, biting your lip at the feeling of Steve’s spit hitting your cunt before he pushed down his shorts enough to free his cock and roughly thrust it into your entrance.
Ringed fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you back till you were looking at the metalhead’s angry face. 
“You’re going to suck my cock, little girl, and you’re going to take all of it. No whining or complaining. Sluts do what they’re told.”
You nodded with heavy eyes as the man behind you abused that sensitive spot inside you over and over till your toes were curling. Shimming out of his boxers without letting you go; his dick sprang free and you wasted no time taking him into your mouth. 
Eddie groaned as you did what you were told, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you drooled around him. Every time you moaned at Steve’s thrusts, his fingers gripped you tighter as his eyes fluttered shut. 
“Fuck, baby, that’s it. At least that bratty mouth is good for something. Shit.”
Looping his arm around you, Steve’s hand reached between your legs and began rubbing fast circles into your clit that had you screaming around Eddie as you pushed back against his hand.
“Fuck, Steve!”
“Yeah. That’s the fucking spot. I know. No one knows you better than us, little girl. Cum. Cum hard on my cock, Y/N!”, he demands as he spanks you with his other palm. 
As the ball drops, you moan his name as your pussy quivers around him. 
“Fuck. That’s it. Good girl. Good fucking girl.”, Steve grunts as he pounds into you chasing his high. 
Clinging to your hair, Eddie holds you still as he thrusts up into your mouth and fucks your face as you gag. 
“There you go, you little whore. Choke on my dick.”
Steve’s rhythm falters and he grunts as he releases his spend roughly into your cunt. As he fills you up, the metalhead pushes you lower onto his lap and growls loudly as your throat constricts around him. They both pull out of you at the same time and Eddie forcefully tugs you onto his lap facing him. 
Your jaw falls open as he grips your waist and brings your down onto his cock, your hands clinging to his shoulders as he guides your movements. 
“Harder, Y/N! Fucking make me believe that you fucking care!”
As you wrap your arms around him for leverage, you bounce faster and harder on his lap, throwing your head back as you moan loudly. 
“E-Eddie, please!”
“Fuck.”, he grunts, lifting you into the air without pulling out, sitting you on the sofa while his palm grips the back as he takes over thrusting into you. “God, you feel so fucking good. You’re ours, little girl. This pussy belongs to us.”
When all you do is mewl and nod, his fingers take hold of your jaw, and force you to meet his intense gaze.
“Say it, Y/N. So we know you fucking understand.”
“I-I…my pussy be-belongs to you. Fuck.”
“Who do you belong to?”
“You two.”
“WHO?!”, he snarls as he rolls his hips hard.
“EDDIE AND STEVE! Fuck, I’m gonna—”
The metalhead’s ringed fingers grab your throat and you whimper as you cum again. Eddie’s grip tightens and you feel your air slightly cut off. Right as your panicked eyes find Steve’s, the other boy paints your walls as he fucks it deep into your core. 
Steve reaches over and tugs at his friend’s wrist, signaling for him to release you which he does. His chocolate eyes scan you over with worry, when he hears you cough as you catch your breath. 
“I…I…shit. Y/N, are you…okay?”
When you don’t answer, they swiftly kick into action as Steve lifts you into his arms and carries you to his bathroom where he gets the tub ready. Eddie appears next to you with a bottle of water but as he offers it to you, you turn away. 
“Sweetheart, you have to drink something.”
“Like either of you care.”
“Honey, of course we care.”
“DON’T! Don’t you honey and sweetheart me! I’m a whore who wants to fuck the entire town, right?! I’m butting into your business and making things worse, right?! I don’t love you and you don’t care if I leave, RIGHT?!” Pushing Steve away, you wince as you lower yourself in the warm water and bring your knees to your chin. “What do I have to do to prove to you that I only want you two? That I’m not going anywhere? Why does it have to be this way?”
They hang their heads as they silently clean you and you allow it. After drying you off and finding you a new pair of clothes to wear, you continue to ignore them as you climb into Steve’s bed and close your eyes. Both boys do the same, placing themselves on either side of you as Eddie presses himself against your back looping his arm around you and pulling you to him while Steve tenderly caressed your face. 
“We’re sorry, baby.”, he whispers. “You deserve so much more than this. We’re fucking assholes.”
Steve watched your bottom lip quiver as Eddie held you tighter to his chest and he pressed his face into your shoulder as he began to quietly cry. 
“I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to grab you so hard. I love you. You’re not a whore. You’re our perfect angel. We can be better, Y/N.”
###########
“Hey, Y/N. Are you alright? You look tired.”
“Oh, thanks Glen. You know I’m trying this new routine—”
“Ok, ok, I get it. That was a little rude.”, he laughs. “You know, you always look beautiful.”
You softly smile as you turn towards your locker. These were the moments you wish you could tell people that you, Eddie, and Steve were more than best friends. Glen was a nice guy but you were in love with someone else. You knew it bothered them (especially Eddie) when men hit on you and it equally upset you when girls would do the same with them. 
They knew better though just like you. You knew when Steve stumbled into a room with a girl on his heels they were probably just talking. Whenever he would call you over at 2am sobbing about something you couldn’t understand under his slurred words, you were positive that the perfume you were smelling was most likely yours from days ago when you spent the night. 
They made sure you never had to worry about things like that…
As you opened your locker a note tumbled into your hand.
“Hey pretty girl, 
We just wanted to say we love you so much and miss you. 
Can’t wait to see you later tonight. 
You deserve the world, angel.
-Steve X Eddie”
“Are you, um, going to the party tonight?”
“Yeah.”, you answer him as you hold the note to your chest. “Steve is probably going to pick me and Eddie up.”
“Oh. Ok…I thought, maybe, you’d want to ride with me.”
“Glen…I…thank you but I’m just not…”
“Hey. No worries.”, he grins. “I’ll still be your friend and think you’re cool.”
***
“Geez, this fucking house is insane. How many people live here?”, Eddie asks as he takes a sip of the “punch” in his cup. 
“I think 3 but…”, you laugh as you wonder around with them. 
“Pfft. Jamie’s parents and herself makes three people who are never home.” Steve picks up a figurine and shows it to you with confusion before putting it back. “I will never understand why rich people buy these massive houses but are never in them. Our house isn’t that big but it’s just me or the three of us 99% of the time.”
“Ok, got it. When we move in together no big house.”, you giggle causing him to stick out his tongue at you. 
“That’s too bad. When I became a rockstar I was going to buy us a HUGE mansion.”, the metalhead muses as he glances up another spiral staircase that was blocked off. After looking around, he tugs down the ribbon, and grabs your hand to guide you up to the next floor. 
“Hm, baby. This reminds me of The Shining.”, you whine.
Eddie chuckles as he turns around and wiggles his index finger in front of your face. 
“Redrum!”
“Stop!”
Continuing to laugh, he pulls you to his side as you wrap your arms around his waist. You loved these moments; the moments where they seemed like their old selves before things had gotten worse. It gave you hope that you could save them; that you could bring the Eddie and Steve you first met on those swings back to you. 
“Hey guys. Come look at this here.”, Steve calls as he opens a random door. “This must be her parent’s room.”
As he stared at the massive sized bed with a canopy, you ventured into the bathroom while Eddie looked around the closet. 
“Jesus Christ, this is bigger than our fucking trailer.”, he scoffs as he flashes Steve who followed him in some of the clothes. “If you need a bench in your closet, maybe the closet it too big, yeah?”
The other man took a swig from his flask as his eyes scanned everything around him. 
“I don’t think I’ll every be rich enough to give her this.”, he mumbles causing the metalhead to abruptly turn his way. 
“Don’t say that, Harrington. Just because your dad is a douchebag doesn’t mean you won’t own a company one day. It doesn’t have to be his.”
“Pfft, said the rockstar.”
“Ha! Yeah. That’s if I can get my fingers to do what I want them to do.”, Eddie sighs as he begins digging his is pockets, finding his little vile. “Or my brain for that matter.”
“Maybe…maybe we really should slow down, ya know?”, Steve whispers. 
“It’s not that serious, Steven.”
“You almost choked her out.”
“And you fuck other cheerleaders. Do you really want to play that game right now?”, Eddie hisses.
“Shhh! I don’t…I don’t mean to. We go somewhere and then I wake up the next morning…”
“Yeah, tell her that.”
“I love her.”, Steve growls. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Well, I love her to.”, he sighs before patting his friend’s shoulder. “Everything’s fine, man. Trust me.”
The sound of you jumping onto the bed brings them back into reality as they exit the closet and find you sprawled out with a wide smile on your face. Crawling in beside you, the three of you lay there in comfortable silence as you listen to them breathe.
“I love you both…for who you are…I hope you know that.” You feel their eyes shift towards you as you continue. “No matter what. It’s always been just us and I’m always going to be here for you. I don’t care if we have a house like this or… a tiny trailer.”
“We’re not going to let you live your life in a tiny trailer, sweetheart. I don’t care what I have to do but that’s never going to be your reality.”
“Whatever WE have to do.”, Steve clarified. “We’re always going to be there for you, honey. You put up with a lot when it comes to us. Soon it will all be worth it.”
“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we ditch this party, go back to my place, and watch some spooky movies that will make Harrington pee his pants?”
Nodding, you giggle as Steve rolls his eyes. After running down the stairs, a face you recognized abruptly stopped you to say hello. 
“Hi Glen. I’m actually about to leave!”
“Really? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” His nervous eyes scan Steve’s stumbling frame as Eddie bounces on his heels waiting for you. “You’re leaving with them?”
“Yeah of course. We’re going to go hang out at Eddie’s trailer.”
“You’re driving right? Or, maybe, even I can.”
“Oh, um…” Your own gaze shifts towards them, taking note at the longer you take the more annoyed their eyes seem to become. “His place isn’t that fair. It’s not a big deal. I appreciate the thought though.”, you smile as you give him a quick hug.
Before you can turn away, Glen holds you in his grasp.
“Don’t go with them, Y/N. Please.”
Holding your smile, you pull away and nod your head, slightly assuring him that everything would be alright. 
“What did he want?”
“Just to say hello. We have a couple of classes together and we help each other sometimes.” As you three search for Steve’s BMW, you anxiously watch him fumble with his keys. “Stevie, baby, maybe you should let me drive.”
“Pfft, I can drive, honey. I’m barely even drunk.”
Eddie’s arms wrap around you from behind as he tenderly kisses the nook between your neck and shoulder. “Come on, princess. You can sit in the back with me.”
***
Steve frustratingly tries to yank at the car door but it won’t budge. 
“Steve…”, Eddie calls to his friend as the sirens begin to wail in the distance.
“I can’t…the door…” Desperately, he falls to his knees and tries to reach for your hand through the shattered window as you dangled upside down from where you were still buckled in. “I can’t reach her…Y/N…w-wake up.”
“S-S-Steve.” The sound of sirens got louder as the metalhead panicked going into sensory overload. The sirens, Steve grunting as he tried different ways to get to you, the smell of metal and blood. “STEVEN! We need to go. NOW!”
“Eddie, we can’t just leave her here!”
The long-haired boy tugged at his friend’s sweater, dragging him to his feet. 
“Yeah? And you’ll never see her again if you get arrested for drunk driving and me for possession. She’ll be fine. They’re almost here. They can get her out!”
Steve had his own internal battle pausing only for a second when he heard the sound of you groan. 
“I-I-I…FUCK!”
Both boys run and disappear just as Hopper’s police car skids onto the scene.
***
“Hey, Y/N. This feels like a stupid question but how are you feeling?”, the police chief asks as he takes a seat beside your hospital bed. It had been almost two weeks since the accident and people could barely get anything out of you. 
Your parents had been by your side the entire time, holding your hand, and caressing your hair as you cried through every painful process the doctors put you through. Your mom and Hopper exchange a worried glance as you ignore the question, continuing to stare at the phone by your bed. 
“I’m not going to bug you too much but I was hoping to get some more details about what happened. We know you weren’t driving because we found you buckled in the backseat.”
Again, no response.
“We, uh, got a tip that you and some friends left a party at the same time. Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington? The car in the accident is also Mr. Harrington’s.” Your eyes start to tear up and you quickly suffocate the notion by closing your eyes. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, may I have a moment alone with Y/N?”
After your parent’s leave, Hopper comes to sit on the opposite end of the room directly in front of you, his gaze soft as he scans you over. 
“Y/N, you’re not in trouble. I know you didn’t cause this. I also know that you’re very loyal to your friends but, honey, you’re not helping either of them if they don’t face the consequences for what they do.” Your eyes open finally meeting his and he doesn’t faulter as he continues. “No one is in trouble here. I just want to help them and you. I also want to make sure no one else gets hurt.”
Shifting you gaze towards the phone again, a montage of everything they had been through ran through your mind. Eddie had lost his mom and his dad was abusive before going in. After moving in with Wayne, things got better at home but not at school or in Hawkins. People bullied him relentlessly making him feel like he was a freak who would never be anything but. 
Steve had basically raised himself being alone most of his childhood. His asshole father and absent mother were always away on business or even pleasure leaving him behind. When they were home, his dad said terrible things to him and broke him down constantly telling him he was worthless. While the boy was popular school, adults constantly seemed to underestimate him adding to his insecurity. 
They didn’t need prison, they needed you. It was just you and them against the world. Yeah, they hadn’t called yet but they would. They would give you a rational reason for leaving you behind and comfort you, telling you everything would be ok. Then things could go back to how they used to be or even better. Maybe this accident would wake them up to the damage their vices can do…
“I don’t remember who was driving. I just remember something darting into the road and then waking up here.”, you whisper. 
The police chief sighs as he nods. He can’t force you to say what you need to say. If that’s the story you want to stick with, he’ll write his report and give it to the insurance companies. 
“I see. Ok, Y/N. Thank you for your candor and I hope…I hope you feel better. I’m always here if you need to talk.”
Softly smiling, you turn your attention back to the phone as you continue to wait. 
They’ll call or come by. They love me. We need each other… I know it.
#############
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