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vallentinerry · 2 years

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I Love You So || Paper Rings 3

I promise the next part of spin the bottle is coming😭😭 IM REALLY TRYING MY BEST TO UPDATE AS FAST AS I CAN SO PLS BARE WITH ME

omg writing angst is so fucking difficult im actually gonna go part my hair with a chainsaw <333

“I love you so—”

“Please let me go.”

wordcount: 4.7k

WARNING: sub space

[part 1], [part 2*]

<2.

Harry felt like the happiest fucking man on earth.

It’s only been a week that you and Harry finally confirmed your relationship, but he still couldn’t get over it. He found himself replaying it again and again in his head, before covering his face in an attempt to hide his blushing and overly-smiley face from prying eyes.

He was really happy.

You were talking to Zayn, back turned against Harry—unknowing that he was even close. Harry couldn’t even hide the giddy grin he had on his face when he saw you. You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine, Y/N.

He runs up to you before embracing your body in his grasp, placing his chin on your shoulder. “Hi.” he says with a dazzling smile, smiling up to you.

You laugh pressing a kiss to his nose, “Hi baby.”

“I really like your outfit today.” he says in a low tone while rubbing his nose against your cheek, his hot breath fanning the skin of your face.

“Yeah?” you giggle, trying to push his face away when he started blowing raspberries on your neck.

“Mhm, I think I got a love boner when I saw you.” he whispers before darting his tongue to circle against your jawline.

You snort, laughing loudly. “I hate you!”

“But I adore you.” he says back, he holds your face in his large hands making sure you heard it clearly.

“Ugh you motherfuckers are the reason why everybody has bad days!” Zayn exclaims across from you with a teasing smile.

Harry only glares at him, a little mad that he disrupted his quality time with his girlfriend. “Fuck off.”

“Wow, so I get that greeting while Y/N gets a... whatever the fuck that was.”

“Y/N is my girlfriend, you’re Zayn.” he says in a monotone voice, while you only smile at him, going on your tippy toes to peck his cheek earning a blush from Harry although he kept a straight face.

“How many times do you have to say girlfriend? I think even the fucking ants that you’re together. Unbelievable.” Zayn shakes his head with a smile before hooking his arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Y/N wanna go romanticize doing homework and have this man third wheel us?”

“Of course,” you laugh as Zayn mocks Harry’s frown.

Tangling your hands with his, earning Harry’s attention before kissing his hand and swinging it together while Zayn was laughing at a meme before showing it to the both of you.

“You make me the happiest person on earth, Y/N.” he whispers to you, squeezing your hand.

You smiled as you look at the picture in your phone gallery with you, Harry and Zayn in the library— Harry with an annoyed expression that he was third wheeling the both of you.

That day seemed so far now.

Lately, Harry has been working himself to the max— eager to succeed in his work. Your senior year of college has just began whilst Harry had already graduated recently, he didn't give himself any time to spare and immediately went to work.

While Harry has spent his days at his office, you have asked Mr. and Mrs. Blue to work for their library café.

To say the least, you've been struggling. Despite Harry graduating with a job that he loved, the both of you lived together now and it was hard having him be the one with the greater income while you barely contributed anything.

You missed him.

He comes home at midnight and the only times you’ll see each other is when you say goodbye to him as he leaves for work. Today, you had all of your work done and since you only had one class — which was your least favorite class— you decided to visit him at work.

“Miss Y/N!” The receptionist of Harry’s floor, Tina, greets you making you smile.

“Hiii!” you wave at her before reaching for the tupperware inside your bag. “My friend made this and I thought you’d want some. Also please tell your daughter the blue one is for her.”

“Thank you darl—” your attention then drifted one to the obnoxious laughter before you saw a body stepping out of Harry’s office with a smile plastered on her face while Harry’s face remained emotionless.

“Babe? Are you alright?” Tina asks with a furrow in her brows.

“Yeah, yeah of course, Thank you again, I hope you have a good day.” you smile before making your way over to Harry’s office where he was talking to Jess.

“Hey.” you greet the both of them.

“Oh-- hi. What are you doing here?” Harry clears his throat, diverting his attention to you.

“I just wanted to eat lunch with you is all. ‘Didn’t want to visit Mr. Clitoris, I despise him.”

“Okay. I’ll go wash my hands. Wait inside. After this, you’ll go right? I have a lot to do.”

This made you frown, “I’ll go, yeah.”

Without a word, he leaves and you immediately make your way inside his small office, placing the food you made on his desk.

“So you’re his girlfriend, huh?” you hear Jess’s footsteps follow behind you. “Funny, he actually never mentions you.”

If he doesn’t then how the fuck do you know I’m his girlfriend?

You sighed before turning to her, “Harry may be oblivious to your motive but I’m not. Please stop it. I told you many times that I don’t like you around my boyfriend.” You’ve never felt so stupid. The way she laughed at you like everything you were saying was dumb.

“Y/N or whatever your name was, look, Harry and I are friends. It’s not my fault we are comfortable around each other, I’m like his girl best friend. I don't understand why you’re freaking out.” She laughs coolly, making you even more frustrated.

“Well as his girlfriend I’m telling you to stop flirting with my boyfriend. Know your place.”

“No wonder why he keeps coming back to me, maybe you’re just not enough for him anymore Y/N.”

“What’s going on here?” Harry rasps beside the both of you making you startled.

Before you even got to process anything, Jess started sobbing across you, holding her cheek in her hand. “Your girlfriend slapped me, H.”

“What?” Both you and Harry speak at the same time.

“No I didn’t! Why the fuck are you lying?” Why can’t she just leave Harry alone?

“She started calling me a whore because I’m your friend. And then she just slapped me.” she says, going up to Harry before burying her head in his chest to “cry”.

“I would never do that! I just told her to fucking back off because I didn’t feel comfortable with how touchy she is with you. I mean look at this shit!” you point to her in his grasp even though Harry made no attempts to reciprocate the touch.

“You have to believe me.” you whisper defeatedly.

“I know. I heard your conversation.” he rasps, making you part your mouth in shock. Jess immediately stared up to him with the same expression as you before moving away.

Relief immediately washed over you. “Thank g—”

“Jess is my friend.” he cuts you off. “Stop being possessive.”

“I—” you start feeling your heart break the more he talks.

“Leave.” he says again, running his hand through his hair out of frustration.

From your peripheral view you see Jess straightening out before heading towards the door.

“Y/N, Leave. Jess and I have to work on our report.”

You snapped your head up from the floor to him. He looked at you with the same emotionless eyes he gave everyone else.

“Harry?” you whisper, a silent “why?” he was doing this.

But he just stared at you again with no ounce of emotion on his face. Why did it feel like he was choosing her over you? Why did it feel like he wanted her more than he could ever want you?

Without a word you reached for your bag, walking to his door seeing Jess scoff a smirk as you walked out with bleary eyes.

Sometimes you couldn’t help but miss Harry who needed you the same way you needed him.

When Harry first told you he wanted to bring you to meet his parents for Christmas you expected a lot. But the last thing on your list was Harry crying on your shoulder when he found out his siblings didn’t come home for Christmas.

"I'm basically a miracle child uh... My parents had me when they were 48 which is fucking crazy. While my siblings were in college I was just born. And I remember I would wait for them in the door, just waiting for them everyday to come home so someone could play with me.And when you're 8, you just can't help and ask yourself if your parents even wanted you there.” he laughs humorlessly as the both of you lay on his childhood bed with glow in the dark stickers brightly glowing at the ceiling.

“I think when I told my parents I really felt nervous around people, I think they just thought it was cute, you know, that I was shy. But um it made it even harder for me because I didn't have anybody to go to. I would fucking play chess by myself and talk to myself everyday, ask myself how my day was, bake cookies for myself and fixed my scar when I tripped, and I was the one that cooked my breakfast. It was all just me.” this time he turned to his side to face you before tucking a stray hair and smiling softly to himself.

"For the longest time I just didn't have anybody so I would always think that keeping it to myself would be better and that if I told you how I felt you would run away from me.” he paused like he was contemplating whether or not to continue speaking.

“I know I don't say it but I'm happy you're my girlfriend y/n. I'm happy you were the first person that made me feel wanted and I-I really like myself when I’m with you. So thank you.”

You were sitting on the couch, with books surrounding you as you tried to bury yourself in homework.

Times like this are where you really wished you had a friend. With Zayn moving back to Europe and Niall working at another state, there was nobody you could really talk to. Partially, it’s your fault. You were so in love with Harry that you were able to convince yourself that you really didn’t need anybody else. That whoever you’d meet would never amount to the happiness and comfort you felt with Harry.

You’d be alright as long as you had Harry.

But now that it starts to feel that he’s slipping through your fingers, you don't really think you have him anymore. Maybe before yeah, but not anymore.

And that really hurts to admit.

It really hurts loving someone so much that you start to lose yourself loving them.

You never really realized it but your entire relationship with Harry, you just gave your entire focus to Harry. Whenever you would have a fight with him and he would just call you one time telling you how sorry he was and that he needed you, the anger and sadness you felt would be wiped away and you would immediately be back with him.

All the problems you both faced were never really resolved. It was just ignored.

“Hey.” he says, as you hear fumbling behind you.

You didn't say anything in response, just sitting there quietly.

“So what, you’re giving me the silent treatment now?” he scoffs when you don’t say anything. “Real fucking mature, Y/N.”

To be honest, you were having a hard time understanding yourself. This was everything you wanted for Harry. Socialize, make friends on his own, and do what he loves to do. You were so excited for him when he was invited to his very first birthday— apart from yours— and you remembered picking out his outfit and the gift while he contemplated whether or not this was some humiliation prank on him.

And all while supporting him, you started to lose friends. But that’s okay because Harry is your best friend.

“I really don’t have any time to be arguing right now. So tell me what the fuck is wrong so this can be over with.”

“You don’t ever have time for me, Harry.”

He laughs humorlessly, “You’re so fucking unfair. I spent everyday of every fucking year attached to your hip Y/N. I did everything you told me to, I tell you everyday how much I love yo- I even fucking spend my free time watching those shows you like so much just so I can make you laugh with inside jokes. So if that isn’t fucking enough for you then I don’t know if I’m enough for you.”

“And I don’t? I’ve given my fucking all to you Harry. I did everything in the past week just so I could be deserving an ounce of your attention. I know I’m not as smart as Jess or am I as pretty or as confident but that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve your attention too, Harry.”

“You know what, I don’t understand why you’re so mad. She’s my friend–”

“Really?”

“What are you gonna fucking forbid me from seeing every other women out there just because you said so?”

“I told you many times that I was uncomfortable with the way she was touchy with you Harry. I have every right to say whether or not I am comfortable with the way she was acting around you.”

At this point the both of you were standing, facing each other, with the couch in between the both of you. “I mean fuck, do you even tell her no or are you okay with the way she’s acting around you?”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, we’re friends and if you can’t trust me then that’s not my fucking problem Y/N.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, your chest heaving with how angry you were as you only stared at Harry. “You’re such an asshole.”

Without even processing what was going on, Harry went around the couch before bending you down at the arm of it. He lowered himself until his chest was touching your back, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “You sure you wanna say that again, huh?”

You knew you should talk about it. You did. But you didn’t want to stop him. It was just this one time, it wouldn’t happen again… right?

“You’re the only person for me, okay? Stop thinking that you’re not because you are. Now spread your legs.”

You wrapped the blanket around your body and walked to the kitchen where Harry was always sitting. With his glasses sat on top of his nose, papers scattered everywhere and eyes red and swollen with the lack of sleep.

"H?" you whisper, touching his shoulder with red cheeks.

"Hm?" he hums the lack of interest evident in his voice.

"C-can we just cuddle for a minute? Please?" your hands were fiddling with the fabric of the blanket.

"I can't."

"But H, we haven't cuddled in a long time. Not even last night." you argued, the frown etched on your face deepening. The memory of Harry hurriedly leaving the bed after the both of you came to take his work calls burned holes in your mind.

"I'll cuddle after I finish this. Don't you have homework?" he mumbles, eyes still not leaving his screen.

Your eyebrows furrow at this, "I finished it all yesterday cause I wanted to spend the day with you."

"Just- go spend it reading a book or something."

"You-you don't want to spend the day with me?" you mutter, voice cracking.

"I have things to do, Y/N."

"Can't they wait-"

"For fucks sake." He mutters, burying his head in his hands. “I should’ve listened when they said you’re so fucking childish.”

"Harry--" you close your mouth, cutting yourself off, not wanting Harry to get even more pissed.

You understood that he had other things to do. It was just you wished that he could be more gentle with you especially when you're at your subspace.

You fell asleep in the room with your cheeks stained with tears and doubt in your mind.

Harry was never too busy for you. He always found a way to make studying and your relationship work. The possibility that now he’s graduated and started getting bored of you or thinks he deserves better is haunting you.

Maybe he found somebody else in his work and realized how much he didn’t want to be with somebody younger than him, someone so childish.

"Baby?" you hear Harry's voice, soon the sound of the door opening was heard. You immediately pretended to still be in deep slumber as he approached the bed.

As the bed dips, the familiar warm touch of a hand touches your face. He places a stray hair behind your ear before pressing a peck on your forehead. “I’m sorry."

And you believed him. You believed him when he said he was sorry.

Harry was talking to Jess again.

What surprised you though is the smile on his face at whatever Jess was saying. He used to look at you like that. Like you were the most interesting person to exist.

You shook the dawning feelings, reminding yourself not to ruin today because you and Harry just made up. “Hi!”

Both Jess and Harry looked at you with somewhat of an irritated look. You went up your tippy toes to press a kiss on Harry’s lips but he bent down to hug you— dodging your lips.

Harry has never dodged your kisses before.

You tried to tell yourself that it was just a misunderstanding, that Harry wouldn’t dodge your kiss and just want a hug at the moment but even that’s not working.

Deep insecurities you've been so ignorant of, had always risen in your relationship with Harry. It wasn't necessarily because Harry was untrustworthy, it was just the way you were. Scared of getting hurt.

You couldn’t help but wish you had the same beauty as she did. You wished you were as confident and charming as she was.

The entire time you just watched as the both of them talked, making no efforts to include you in the conversation. Why did it feel like you were disturbing them?

You sniffled, wiping the pathetic tears before speaking. "I have to go."

“Okay.” Harry says not even making eye contact with you.

The moment Harry walked in the door of your apartment, he was confused upon seeing you not present at the couch. He sighs out in exhaustion removing his shoes before going inside the bedroom, the sight shocking him.

You were packing your things.

Why?

"Y/N what's going on." he asks from the doorway, shocking you but nevertheless not stopping.

“Oh so now you care?” you scoff.

“What the fuck does that mean? And would you stop?” he crouches down to you, grabbing your hands before entangling them with his. “You have to talk to me.”

You laugh humorlessly, tilting your head to the side. “That’s all I’ve been doing Harry, you just didn’t listen to me. Nobody is fucking listen to me.” you forcibly removed your wrists away from his grasp before leaving the room to get something from the living room.

“So why-why are you packing then? If you’re upset then let’s talk about it.” he follows you, grasping the cloth of your dress gently.

This made you stop in your tracks. He always did the “grabbing of your dress” ever since you first started dating.

You were walking in front of Harry, trying to find where the pet store that you wanted to bring him was again when you felt a little tug on your dress. You looked back at him to find him already looking at you with his hands grasping the cloth of your dress.

You rolled your eyes, it was your turn to take Harry out on a date and you thought this was a tactic to ask you where you’re going again. “I’m not telling you, H.” you laughed.

“I know, I just wanted you to know I’ll follow you to the ends of the world Y/N.”

"I-I can't take this anymore, Harry." You felt Harry’s hand drop from your dress.

"You... You shouldn't feel guilty about being too busy. You shouldn’t feel guilty that you’re working hard to achieve your goal. You shouldn’t feel guilty that people are finally starting to notice you, You shouldn’t feel guilty that you’re having friends on your own. You did all of that on your own and you didn’t need me, and I’m so proud of you.” you said with a shaky sigh. "Let’s break up Harry."

"W-what?"

You looked back to find him staring at you with tears slowly dripping down his eyes. “Why the fuck do you get to cry, huh? You treated me like shit Harry, you didn’t even make me feel like you wanted me anymore and you’re crying?” you laugh breathlessly.

“So the moment things are going amazing for me, you’re gonna leave me? You’re so fucking selfish.”

“Me? I’m the selfish one? I was the one trying to fix this! I was the one that had to act like everything’s fine so we don’t get into another fucking fight! It was all me trying—”

“Then why stop?!” he snaps, the both of you screaming at each other’s faces.

“Because I’m tired, Harry. Our relationship has been long gone, I was just in denial. And so are you, so let’s stop.” You moved past him and grabbed your books on the shelf. The shelf that you and Harry built 5 times because he insisted there was no need for instructions.

“But I need y-”

You stopped him before he could even continue, “We needed each other before and now we don’t. You don’t need me anymore and so do I.”

“I don’t want to break up, Y/N. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You should’ve told yourself that before you fucking kicked me out of your office so you and Jess can ‘work’.”

“Is this what this is? Jealousy? You’re still mad about what happened with Jess? I told you we have a presentation that will decide my promotion Y/N!”

I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything Y/N.”

“It just-- it feels like I’m the only one falling in love with you everyday. It-- it feels like watering a dead flower, you know? I just don’t think I’m the right person to be with you, right now.”

“What the fuck does that mean? You are the right person for me Y/N. You always have been and I don’t understand why you’re not, now.”

“Don’t you think it’s time to give us a rest?”

“No Y/N I fucking don’t. Because I love you, and if you don’t love me anymore just tell me--”

You shake your head in disagreement, “You’re getting this wrong! You’re getting me wrong! I love you H. I really do. But I can’t keep holding on to the ghost of you. I don’t know myself without you, and I want to see what I can be without you.”

“Then I’ll give you space! Just don’t— don’t leave.”

“It really hurts being with you, Harry.” you whisper, hanging your head low almost as if you’re embarrassed.

“You’re not being fair Y/N. I keep putting my life on hold for you—I fucking tire myself out so I can make a living of myself and still be with you. You’re not my only priority Y/N and it’s--it’s not fair when I try my best to be with you and you fail to recognize that. It’s not fair when I try and please everyone and it’s still not enough.”

“Then where the fuck where you at my birthday Harry! Huh?!”

“I told you I was working! Are you really still hung up on that?”

“Working?” you scoffed. “Then why did Jess come here the next day to say that you left your sweater at her house Harry?”

“Because I was working with her in her house!”

“Really?! So that’s why you smelled like wine too, isn’t it?”

“You seriously can’t be mad about me getting drunk with another woman. When can my “I love you” be enough for you?”

“You’re all words and never actions!” you sniffled. “Do you understand how it felt waiting for you on my birthday only to find out you spent it with another woman?”

“I told you to go out with your friends, that’s not my fault if you waited for me Y/N.”

“And I told you nobody would come, Harry! You’re the only person in the world that I know would remember my birthday, and you weren’t here. You chose her over me. And that isn’t fair too.”

You watch with bleary eyes as he clenches and unclenches his fist, desperately look around as he tried to control his breathing.

“Fuck– why is this happening? We were so happy, so I can’t fucking understrand why does it hurt this bad.”

“Stop it--”

“I’m not cheating Y/N. I’m sorry that I made you doubt but I’m not. Here.” He shoves his phone to your hand. “Delete all of their fucking numbers, I don’t care.”

“Just because I was the first one to appreciate you doesn’t mean I’ll be the last. You’re doing great in this company, Harry. I just can’t believe you’re doing great without me. We’ve been fighting for the last month Harry and I know you’re tired too.” You shook your head, giving it back to him. “This... fight isn’t just because of jealous H. I just am tired with our relationship and I know you are too.”

“You can’t leave me Y/N.” he lightly grabs your hand, “I’ll- I’ll change, please tell me who you want me to be.” He stands there, unknowing of his swollen eyes as he tries to be logical about this.

“Har—”

"You can't leave," his voice started breaking, like he was struggling to breathe. "You can't leave me."

"Please don't do this," you shook your head at him as tears welled your eyes.

"I need you, Y/N. I need you here— here with me." he clasped his hands with yours as his voice laced with desperation.

“We--we need to break up Harry. You can’t keep putting your life on hold for me, and I can’t keep pretending that I’m still happy with our relationship. I can’t keep pretending I’m still happy.”

"I'm the person I am today because of you, Y/N. You're all I've ever known. A-and I can't handle living without you. Please stay with me. Please, my love. Shout at me, fight with me just please stay. I love you Y/N."

“You have to let me go, Harry. You have to let this go.”

“I’m not ready to lose the person I love the most and my best friend in one night.”

“I can’t do this.” you picked up your bag from the floor with shaky hands before. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

He shakes his head reverently, keeping the strong grip on your arms. “Stop it! Stop...I-I need you. I need you here with me. Please, you’re all I want.”

You feel the tears brimming in your eyes, as you try to remove Harry’s arms against you. His chest was racking with sobs against your back as he tried to cling on to whatever love you still had for him.

“I’m in love with you Y/N. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”

You felt your shoulder slump against him. You have to leave, you can’t keep going back and forth like this. Like a merciless hurricane of pain leaving a gaping on you.

“Please don’t say you love me.” you whisper.

He shakes his head, "I love you baby, I love you so--"

You always envied those people who cried so beautifully. Those people whose tears flow down their cheeks so gracefully.

So you envied Harry. You envied him with the way he grips onto your shoulder tightly and desperately.

"Please let me go."

Harry could not hear his own heartbeat anymore. His love for you was indescribable. The bare thought of you made him shut his eyes so tightly, as he clenched his fist. His love. His world. Gone.

And he was alone, once again.

[part 4*]

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles ceo #ceo!harry #one direction fanfiction #harry styles angst #louis tomilson #niall horan #liam payne #zayn malik #paper rings #myasshurts

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vallentinerry · 2 years

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MY FAVORITE FIC RIGHT NOW!!!

Live Undead (02)

Pairing: Yoon Gwinam x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Dark fic

Word Count: 5.7 k

Summary: You knew he was bad, and you knew it was bad to tell him no. Still, you did. And you will come to regret it.

⚠️ Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Rape/Non-con Elements, Zombie Apocalypse, Mild Gore, Bullying, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, monster fucking?, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Sexual Harassment, Oral Sex, Blood, Toxic Relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Light breeding kink

Notes: Here it is, part 2! Hope you enjoy <3 There's definitely gonna be a part 3.

Part 1 | Masterlist

Gwinam tried to understand. He really did. Why didn’t you want him? Why didn’t you look up to him with eyes full of love and gratitude instead of the dead empty stare that made him feel like he had done something wrong?

He knew he hadn’t. He couldn’t. Not when he was above everyone else. Not when even the Grim Reaper brought him back to life and the monsters didn’t touch him. For the first time ever, Yoon Gwinam had full control over his life; and death. He was now at the top of the food chain, every living thing beneath him just there for him to use as he saw fit.

That’s why your attitude confused him so much. Didn’t you understand how lucky you were? How you were superior to every other human just by being with him? He hated how distant you seemed to be, despite him making an effort to be as close to you as possible. He loved you, he took care of you. He saved your life every day, and every day he was met with the same dead stare and boring submission, so different from the girl you were before.

He found himself wanting to see you smile and laugh like when you were kids. He wanted you to talk back at him, to slap his arm, to look at him with eyes full of defiance that only made him want to tease you further.

But instead, all he got was… nothing.

“You like that?” he whispered in your ear as he moved in and out of you in slow thrusts, thumb playing with your clit in ways that made you tighten your legs around him. “I make you feel good, don’t I?”

You moaned in response, a sound that always made his heart beat faster, and a look at your face told him all he needed to know. You loved it when he fucked you like this, deep and slow as he took his time touching you and kissing you in ways that made your eyes roll back and your pussy clench around him. He knew you did.

Your eyes were shut closed and your mouth was opened in a moan, the flickering candle flames illuminating the room covering your face and body in dancing shadows. Your hardened nipples pressed against his chest as he moved on top of you, warm and soft skin contrasting with his colder one. Just feeling you pressed so close against him made him want to fuck you harder, feel you even closer.

Fuck, you were beautiful.

He buried his nose in your hair, taking a long inhale at your mouth-watering scent. He could swear you smelled even better now than you did before he marked you, your natural scent mixing with his own in a cocktail that left him drunker than any drink could. It was intoxicating, and he quickly realized that he would never get tired of it.

He would never get tired of fucking you, either.

Sometimes he fucked you just to hear you cry out in ecstasy, just to see your expressions change because of him. He was the one that made you come every night, he was the one that left you spasming in pleasure. There was something overwhelmingly primal in seeing you panting and shaking with his cum leaking out of you, the only thought in his head being the need to fill you up again and mark you more. Nothing made him prouder of himself than seeing his teeth mark on you and smelling his scent on your skin.

Gwinam knew that he had to be careful not to turn you into something like him, or worse; a brainless zombie. One would turn you into something that could fight him back, and the other would just ignore him. He would rather kill you himself than have you turn into either of those things.

You belonged to him and no one else, and that was a fact.

You gasped and twitched in his arms as he felt you come around him for the second time that day. It didn’t take him long to join you, burying himself inside you as deep as he could before filling you up like he did every time. Then he laid still, still in you as you regained your breath and he enjoyed how warm your body was.

Gwinam had gotten to know your body pretty well in the past two months.

That first time with you in that bathroom had been something out of his wildest dreams, an action driven by lust and blood. That mouth-watering scent that led him to you made him want to fuck you as much as he wanted to eat you, and revenge on Cheongsan had lost priority when he realized that you were what he wanted the most. He had felt like an animal, the need to take you so strong he hadn’t been able to think straight.

Taking you despite your initial rejection had made him fully realize who he was; a god. He was in charge, and there was nothing you – or anyone else – could do to stop him from getting what he wanted. He made sure to remind you of that, made sure that you knew exactly what your place in this new world was.

Gwinam finally owned what he had only been able to dream about until that moment. The sleepless nights where he touched himself thinking of you, the glances and the teasing and the bullying that reflected how much he wanted you – all of that mixed with all your hurtful words of rejection and looks of disdain had turned him into a beast that only wanted one thing. You.

And then it was over, and you were finally his.

Even then, he couldn’t stop.

He took you again and again and again, until the fog in his mind dissipated, and all he could hear were your begging cries for him to stop.

And he stopped.

Of course he did, he wasn’t that big of a monster. He knew that what he had done was wrong, but how wrong could it be when he was a god and you were the one he chose as his lover? How wrong could it be when he felt your legs shake from pleasure and your tight pussy clench around him like you wanted to milk him dry? It wasn’t wrong; you just took your time understanding you wanted him too.

Still, he stopped. The only thought in his head wasn’t to fuck you anymore but to protect you. To care for you.

Funny word, when he thought about it. Protect.

He had never cared to protect anyone in his life but himself. At home, he was the one in need of protection, and on the streets, he made sure that no one even had the courage to make him feel threatened. But there he was, killing zombies for you, searching for food for you, getting you in a safe place for you.

Loving you.

At least he was pretty sure it was love. The way he wanted you, how restless he felt when you weren’t close, how happy he was just from touching you. That had to be love. Not that he knew exactly what love looked like; he never had much of that growing up. But he knew that he had something like that with you, even if you didn’t quite understood it yet.

“You liked it?” he asked in a low tone after pulling out and lying beside you, face buried in the crook of your neck and fingers drawing spirals on your stomach.

He didn’t like to look at you after; he knew what he was going to see. You and that empty stare, focused on the ceiling. It made him feel like a monster – unloved and underappreciated – a sensation in the pit of his stomach that he didn’t enjoy one bit making him want to fix it, whatever it was. At least you didn’t cry right after anymore, not that it made him feel much better; he could still hear you sniffling when you thought he was asleep.

“Uhum” came your emotionless answer, followed by a deep sigh as you turned your back to him and covered yourself with a blanket.

He tried not to get mad over it; he quickly found out that starting a fight with you would only drive you further apart and end up with you crying and him seeing red. He wanted the opposite of that.

“Want me to get you something?”

A shake of the head; always the same damn answer. What the hell was he doing wrong?

He shrugged to himself – trying to muffle the anger simmering in his chest – before standing up from the mattress and stretching his arms over his head, enjoying the way his joints popped and how good he felt despite the countless scars and injuries visible on his pale skin. Bite marks, deep scars, burns, his eye; it was all marked in his flesh, and he was proud of it.

They were proof that he was more and better than most.

After the bombs that destroyed several parts of the city, it had been hard to find you a safe place to hide. He had been lucky enough to kill Cheongsan and escape the school before the bomb hit, but he was not expecting how hard it had been for both of you to get a place where neither humans nor zombies would bother you.

He had tried to get you home, but your area had been affected by the bombs too. So now, here you were, on the second floor of a tiny building that he had cleaned free of zombies from top to bottom. Under it, there was a small grocery store that had barely been ransacked, which proved very handy when it came to food and other necessities.

The place wasn’t big – with only a wide room serving as both the bedroom and living room, a kitchenette in a corner, and another door that led to the bathroom – but he had done his best to make it a home for you. Water was scarce despite the rainwater that you used to shower and the bottled water he brought back, but there was no electricity or gas.

Still, he found a way to make things work.

Gwinam made his way to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as he took a quick shower. He could barely feel the cold water on his skin despite it being winter, and he found himself kind of missing feeling hot. That’s why he loved to be pressed against you, the way your body warmed his own, filling him with a type of comfort that he couldn’t exactly experience anymore.

A sound from the room made him freeze, and he focused on hearing as he searched for some kind of threat, sniffing for something or someone that wasn’t you or him. He turned off the water as his shoulders relaxed – no sign of an intruder close by – and grabbed a towel before stepping out of the bathroom.

The window that led to the small terrace was open, and he wasn’t surprised to see you outside, naked body enlightened by the weak light of the rainy day. You didn’t seem to care about the rain, and neither did he as he followed you outside, stopping before getting too close. Even in the low light he could see the dark marks on your skin, made by his hands. He was aware it hurt you, but even then he couldn’t stop himself from doing it.

How could he when you looked hotter by the day? He was like a moth attracted to a flame.

Gwinam watched as you took trembling steps forward – apparently unaware of his presence – wondering for a moment about what was going on in your head. It wasn’t the first time that he wished he could hear your thoughts; he just wanted to learn something that would help him understand you.

But right now he didn’t need to be in your head to know what you were thinking.

“You won’t die if you fall from there,” he said.

He knew how falling from a high place felt, but you – unlike him – wouldn’t heal or come back to life.

His voice tone was low and somber, but he knew you had heard him when you hesitated, stopping at the wall that limited the terrace. You didn’t turn to him, however, but he still heard you when you whispered:

“I know… but would it be that bad if I still wanted to try?”

He sighed and brushed his wet hair back as he tried to control his emotions, the sound of cracking knuckles making you look at him over your shoulder. You flinched when he grabbed you by the wrists, forcefully turning you to him before crashing his lips on yours. He ignored your whimpers of pain as his grip on you tightened, pressing your body against his as he consumed your mouth in an almost desperate way.

“You really wanna die that much?” he said against your lips, not really caring about the fear he saw in your eyes. He wanted you to be afraid. “You hate me so fucking much that you would rather die? Cause the only way that’s happening is if I kill you myself.”

“So do it!” you shouted, surprising him with a push that made him stumble back. He could hear the faint sound of alerted zombies in the distance, but he didn’t have it in himself to care about it at the moment. “Fucking do it instead of pretending you love me! You think you’re some kind of god now, but you’re still the stupid teenage boy from before, always expecting me to like you back. I fucking hate you, don’t you get that?!”

The tears that fell down your face could be mistaken for rain, but the fire in your eyes could never be mistaken by anything else. He knew that fire all too well.

He had wished for it.

“Ungrateful bitch,” he scoffed, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You don’t like the way I treat you? Am I so bad you’d rather get eaten by zombies? Then fucking do it, go for it,” he said with a mocking nod, “but don’t come screaming for my help when they tear you apart limb from limb.”

He turned his back to you and rushed inside, such strong anger running through his veins that he felt lightheaded and in dire need of blood. He needed whatever would help take his mind out of you before he did or said something he would regret, and a good fight followed by death usually did that for him lately.

He got dressed while completely ignoring your presence and left the building without another word, banging the door close behind him.

Gwinam walked down the street with his hands in his pockets, not minding the rain soaking his clothes as the gray day slowly turned darker. Zombies roamed the streets without paying him any mind, and he almost wished they would react to him so he could fight back.

He knew other hambies usually would if he saw any of them.

He could smell them on occasion, but they usually kept to themselves in other parts of the city, not really invading what he considered to be his territory. In his opinion, the borders were pretty clear with the bodies of the hambies he had managed to kill.

Still, he didn’t stray far from the building, his attention always focused on something that would tell him that you were in danger.

Sometimes Gwinam dreamed he had done things differently, way before all this zombie mess he was part of. If only he hadn’t let your friendship sour, if only he hadn’t bullied you around like he did others… maybe then you would’ve liked him back, and none of this would be happening.

Well, too late to be crying over spilled milk, anyway; you were his whether you liked it or not.

He hadn’t been walking around for long when he noticed he was being watched. A sniff let him know it wasn’t a human – but another being like himself – so he stopped and focused his gaze on the pitch-black alley where his fellow monster was hiding.

“What do you want?” he asked.

He wanted the thing to fight him, but no need for that if it was just another confused weakling walking around in search of food. Your scent usually attracted more trouble than he needed, but it was usually easy for him to fight them off.

“Y-You smell… human,” a trembling male voice hesitantly talked back from the dark. “But you’re not one. I-I can smell that too.”

“So what?” Gwinam shrugged, rolling his eyes. “You hungry?”

“Yes! D-Do you have food?”

The thing that came into the light was skinny and deformed, and Gwinam recognized its injuries as severe burns. Its eyes were bloodshot red and he could see drool sliding down its chin.

It disgusted Gwinam as much as it made him feel pity for the sick thing.

“No humans here,” he shook his head, “now fuck off before I–.”

A piercing scream sounded from somewhere in the dark, and Gwinam froze as his heart skipped a beat.

“Fuck.”

The other hambie ran by him so fast it looked like a blur. Gwinam wasted no time, chasing it as fast as he could while focusing all his senses on getting to you.

He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

He saw you before you saw him, too busy balancing yourself on top of a wall as zombies reached for your ankles, bloody open mouths hungry for you.

However, his concern wasn’t the brainless monsters, but the rabid thing that threw itself at you, ready to eat you alive in its desperation.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion before his eyes.

Your eyes widened as you finally caught sight of him, relief replacing despair, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t care about what happened to himself as long as he saved you.

Gwinam was stronger, faster, and healthier. He thanked whatever higher being existed above him for that.

The way he hit the monster punched the air out of his lungs, reminding him of the time he had hit a wall while playing around as a kid. The thing growled and bit hard on his arm, but even then Gwinam held strong, ignoring the pain of having his flesh torn off.

He threw it on the ground as hard as he could, adding his weight on top of it before grabbing what was once a man by its remaining hair and smashing the head on the pavement over and over.

“You trying to take what’s mine, motherfucker!?” His screams of rage echoed in the ghost city, but he couldn’t hear himself over the buzz in his ears. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!”

It was all brain matter and pieces of flesh by the time he was finished, his hands caked with blood and hair.

Then he turned to the zombies, the feeling of warm blood on his skin making him feel alive. —

“Gwinam!”

His name being shouted so close to his sensitive ears snapped him out of whatever trance he was in. He stumbled back as he muffled the sound with his palms, looking around in confusion before focusing on you.

You were covered in blood spatters from head to toe, eyes glossy and wide in fear as you hugged your trembling body. At first, he thought with horror that the blood was yours, but he quickly realized that the scent of your blood couldn’t compare to the rottenness that filled his nostrils.

“What–” he halted midway from reaching you when you flinched, clearly afraid of him.

He remembered now. A look around him confirmed it.

The bodies of several torn zombies were scattered around like ribbons, the pieces and blood, and organs almost making them unrecognizable. His hands and clothes were red and torn in several places – his shirt barely hanging on his body – bite marks and scratches visible on his already scarred skin.

But you looked fine, and that immediately made him relax, the instinct to fight fading as he didn’t detect any more threats. Then he focused his hard stare on you, feeling a tiny zing of satisfaction at seeing you cower before him, your eyes avoiding his.

You really should be afraid.

“What the hell are you doing outside?”

The relief he felt seeing that he had succeeded at saving you quickly gave place to irritation; this would’ve never happened if you had stayed home. It wasn’t the first time you had tried to run from him – almost killing him one time – but he always brought you back before you could take more than a few steps out the door.

He had been way too careless this time. It wouldn’t happen again.

“Was this what you fucking wanted?” he asked in a low tone, gesticulating to the gory scene surrounding both of you. “Should I just watch, the next time you’re about to get your face chewed off? Cause I will, if that’s what you want.” He tilted his head to the side when you whimpered and tucked your chin against your chest in a clear sign of submission. It almost made him laugh. “What, zombie got your tongue?”

You shook your head, but still didn’t look up at him. Whatever you said next was unintelligible even to his ears.

“What was that?”

“T-Take me home, please,” you repeated, now in a loud whisper, “I won’t do it again, I-I promise…”

That was all he needed to hear.

He ignored your yelp of surprise and subsequent whimper of fear as he picked you up, carrying you over his shoulder like he had done several times before. You weighed nothing to him, and the usual futile attempts of escaping his grasp were now nothing more than a weak “No” that he promptly ignored.

He only put you down when you reached the apartment, throwing you on the bed like you were a sack of potatoes before starting to take off his bloody and ripped clothes.

You watched with wide eyes, your tear and blood stained face actually making him hornier than he had any right to be. It reminded him of his first time with you, how scared and beautiful you had looked with tears streaming down your face and desperation in your eyes.

“Take your clothes off,” he ordered in a tone that left you with no alternative.

He watched you with sharp eyes as you undressed, body trembling, and gaze down as you unbuttoned your dress. Then you were both naked in the room, skin dirty with blood and – in his case – covered in bite marks and open wounds.

You were as aware of his erection as he was, the pink tip of his cock already leaking with precum. He couldn’t help it when you looked at him like that like you were expecting him to ravish you one way or another. He wanted nothing more than to put you on all fours and fuck you like an animal, remind you of who you belong to. Make you come, feel the warmth of your skin against his, cum inside you. Mark you.

But that’s not what he did.

Instead, Gwinam ignored his primal instincts as he pulled you by the wrist in direction of the bathroom, pretending not to see the way you flinched.

He said nothing as he pulled you with him under the shower head before turning on the water. You yelped in surprise as the cold water fell on you in a weak stream, your trembling body against his own only making him harder. You both stayed under the stream despite the temperature – his hands on your shoulders keeping you still – the water falling at your feet tinged pink.

Gwinam took a deep breath, suddenly feeling extremely tired; he didn’t want to believe it, but he had no doubt that this would happen again.

“Was it worth it?” he asked, stepping away from you to grab a bottle of body wash and a loofah before starting to scrub his hands clean. “Feel better about yourself now?”

You didn’t answer as you grabbed your own sponge before imitating him, scrubbing your skin with a little more strength than he found necessary.

“Fine if you don’t wanna talk,” he continued, “but I might not be there to save you next time you try shit like that.”

You still said nothing, and he nodded to himself before throwing you his sponge. It hit your back and fell on the ground, and you looked up at him as he got closer to turn off the shower before turning back around.

“Wash me,” he ordered as he sat on a small plastic bench, back to you. “Clean the mess you made.”

A moment passed before he felt the loofah on his skin, rubbing the blood off of him in circular motions. His tensed muscles eventually relaxed as you washed him, his injuries now nothing more than annoying itches that he tried not to scratch.

“I should make you wash me more often…” he said with a satisfied sigh, more to himself than to you.

Your fingers were currently in his hair – scrubbing it clean with shampoo – and he leaned back against your stomach as you slowly went down to his neck and chest, enjoying the way your soft hands touched his body and carefully cleaned his skin.

“I’m sorry.”

He opened his eyes upon hearing your whispered apology, leaning his head further back to look at your face. Your movements stopped and your eyes widened slightly before you averted your gaze, focusing somewhere on his chest.

“Are you?”

“I am,” you answered, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, “I-I shouldn’t have left. Now you’re hurt because of me…”

He couldn’t control the satisfied smile that pulled at his lips; he knew you would eventually understand. You knew that what you had done was wrong.

“C’mere,” he said as he pulled you to stand in between his legs, hands on your hips keeping you from escaping.

Your chest was right in front of his face – nipples hard from the cold as your whole body trembled – and he didn’t think twice before popping one into his mouth, rolling his tongue against the cold hard bud.

You gasped and your arms went around his head, pulling him closer after a moment of hesitation. He smiled as he kept sucking on your tit, one hand kneading your ass while the other went up to squeeze your other boob, thumb and forefinger playing with your nipple.

He wanted to show you how pleased he was with your apology.

You surprised him by suddenly pushing his head away before slamming your lips on his, climbing into his lap before he had time to react.

Gwinam froze for a split of a second, surprised by your initiative; this never happened. You had never initiated anything, barely returning his kisses and touching him back as little as possible.

This was new, but he couldn’t complain when what he wanted to happen happened.

He quickly returned the kiss, moaning into your mouth as he felt your hot cunt sliding and grinding against his erection, making him thrust his hips forward in the crazy need to get inside you.

Fuck did he want you.

“Please,” you said in between kisses, still teasing him as you rubbed yourself against his hard-on, “say you won’t leave me alone.”

“Never,” he promised, and he meant it.

The way your body touched his drove him mad; you were so warm, so soft, so fucking delicious. Your sweet scent alone was enough to almost make him come on the spot.

He hissed when your hand went down his abs to hold his cock, fingers hesitantly closing around his shaft before you started jerking him off. There’s another thing that you had never done, and the feeling of your soft fingers touching him like that made him lean back so much he almost fell off the seat.

“Shit, I’ll fuck you so hard after this…” he moaned, pulling your face closer for another kiss that you enthusiastically retributed.

Then you surprised him again.

You broke the kiss and looked down before lining his dick with your entrance, shifting your hips and impaling yourself on his cock in one swift move. Your joined moans echoed in that bathroom, soon mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he held you and moved you up and down his shaft. You rode him with abandon, moaning as loud as he had ever heard you while gripping his shoulders hard enough to mark him.

This had to be the hottest sex he ever had in his life.

His lips moved down to your jaw and neck, alternating between kissing and sucking on your skin as your hands pulled at his wet hair, only making him hornier as your velvety walls clenched around him at each thrust.

“M-More…” you mumbled, followed by a shout of pleasure as he pulled out of you completely before slamming you back down, filling you up to the brim.

One of his hands went down to play with your clit, only enlightening the pleasurable sensations as you rolled your hips in sync with his.

This felt better than any other time he had sex with you, and he wondered if it was because you were actually taking the initiative this time. The way you moaned and touched him back, the will to please in your eyes… all of that just made this fuck hotter than all the others.

You came soon after, cunt pulsing around him at the same time you threw your head back in a loud moan. Then it was like your body turned into jelly, and he used you to completion as you laid your head on his shoulder, your soft whines in his ear only making him fasten his thrusts.

It didn’t take him long to follow you, gripping your hips in place as he jerked and filled you up with his cum, your tight pussy milking him dry.

Your heart beat against his chest like a galloping horse, your panting breaths against his shoulder reminding him that you were very much alive. Pure human and alive because of him.

It took him a moment to realize you were crying, soft sobs making your shoulders shake as you hid your face from him. He could still feel the warm tears in his skin and thinking that he had ruined a good thing made a bad feeling turn in his stomach.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself before asking you, “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head no, but your louder sobs did nothing to help him believe it. He hesitantly held you as you cried, uncomfortable with your sudden crying despite the amazing sex you just had. He was still inside you, for fucks sake, and he wondered for a moment if he should just leave or try to comfort you further.

He did neither, choosing to stand up with you still in his arms before getting out of the bathroom, not caring about the water dripping on the floor or the fact that neither of you were sufficiently clean.

Gwinam gently laid you on the bed, both of you shuddering as he pulled out of you. Still, your crying didn’t stop, and he stared at you for a moment as you hid your face in your hands, irritation starting to slowly creep upon him.

He didn’t understand why. Why couldn’t you just enjoy the good things he gave you? Why were you being so emotional for no damn reason? You were alive and being taken care of so why was that not enough?

He knew you were full of his cum and sore by the constant sex, but he didn’t care about that as long as he stopped you from crying.

So he did the only thing he thought would make you stop.

You arched your back as a trembling moan left your lips, instinctively bucking your hips as Gwinam sucked on your already sensitive clit before shoving two fingers inside your creamy pussy.

“G-Gwi–”

Your words died in your throat as he started scissoring and sucking and licking, finger fucking you until your legs trembled and your hands gripped his hair so tightly he was afraid you were actually going to pull it off his scalp.

He smiled against your dripping core as you pushed his face further against it, and a moan vibrating against your most sensitive spot made you squeeze your thighs around his head. Still, that didn’t stop him from eating you out until you were a shaking and moaning mess, the sobbing now erupting from your lips being from the overstimulation of consequent orgasms and not whatever negative emotion you were feeling.

He didn’t mind the taste of both his cum and your juices on his tongue, and neither did you as he went up your body to kiss you breathless, lips moving with yours in such a passionate way he felt like he was dreaming.

You were asleep soon after, rolled up against his side with his arm over your warm body, pulling you closer in the cold night.

Gwinam actually felt happy for the first time in a long time. He was an immortal god, the girl he liked was his – human and alive – and finally liked him back, and no one was there to make his life hell again.

You murmured something in your sleep that he couldn’t understand before clinging even more to him, lips brushing against his peck as you hugged him closer.

Gwinam felt butterflies in his stomach, feeling suddenly giddy; so this was what it felt like to be loved back?

He sure hoped it was.

---

Part 3 ->

#all of us are dead #fake scenarios for z's #LOVE IT

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