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"Your girl" - Part 21 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: During a weak moment, you think back to happier times.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening (knife), mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy issues like nausea and puking, kidney failure, cockwarming, rough sex, penetration, oral sex, blood play, degradation kink, not beta-read and not proofread yet! if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

Having a knife pressed against your throat wasn’t half as exciting, if it wasn’t the one person you trusted not to kill you with it – and even if he did…you’d forgive him.

But what if it was someone else? What if it wasn’t the man who made everything possible, the man you had come to trust and love?

It wasn’t enough to kill you. But it, sure as Hell, was enough to break your soul.

You couldn’t help but think back to your last birthday. It had been quite the celebration, hadn’t it?

You had never really celebrated your birthday before and why would you? There were not enough people to invite, at least none who wouldn’t secretly make fun of you behind your back. A few people pitied you for being shy and quiet, they would have come for sure. Others were not so gracious – they said they’d show up and then they didn’t. It wasn’t uncommon, right? Nothing but a pathetic pity party. And yet it was enough to keep you from ever celebrating your birthday again.

Back home you had most often spent the day watching tv shows, probably comfort shows to keep your mind occupied, but at the same time not all that much. Carrie and Douglas shopping groceries for Thanksgiving. Samantha and Charlotte splitting up over Charlotte’s hot brother. A few of your favorite episodes and yet nothing to trigger any emotions in you. Because you knew, if you did, you’d spend all day and all night feeling miserable because your life was so goddamn empty. It went like that every messed up birthday of yours. No one to congratulate you, except for the people who felt obligated to. Your mother’s untrustworthy good wishes. Nothing of meaning.

That was until you met him.

Your last birthday…It had been…

God, if you had died and went to Heaven, it couldn’t have been like that.

Your gaze involuntarily wandered back to the typewriter. A part of you almost wanted to smile at the memory, but it was hard under these circumstances.

And yet you knew, you knew, you had to dissociate somehow. Because if you didn’t, your soul would be gone for good. And what good was it to spend the last few minutes of your life broken and miserable? No, that was so silly. So silly. Why would you do that to yourself, when instead you could remember one of the most beautiful days of your life?

You remembered it like it had been yesterday, though it was a few months in the past by now. You hadn’t been pregnant yet or if you had been, at least you hadn’t known.

Now, lying on your bed under the sharp threat of the blade, you felt your first trimester nausea had passed. Almost on the dot, three months into the pregnancy and the vomiting had stopped. Pasta was still an unbearable thing to you, but at least Tteokbokki worked – though not half as spicy as he liked to eat them. You just weren’t sought out for that kind of tongue pain.

The first morning you woke up and didn’t immediately feel like throwing up the emptiness of your stomach, your desire for something else than food immediately returned – and tenfold.

You didn’t consider yourself an especially wicked or wanton person. But now, that the nausea had passed…

Fuck, you wanted him all the time.

And you got him all the time.

Having him inside you was as natural as breathing. It didn’t matter if you woke up with him stretching you out lazily against the sleepy morning blur or if you found yourself on your knees, keeping his hardness warm for him like a good girl.

“Good girl. Fuck. My good girl. Daddy’s good girl. Mh-mh. Don’t you dare move, you know the rules. I know that you want it. Fuck, I bet you’re dripping by now. Ah…Fuck. No, darling, no. Keep that pretty mouth in place for me, will you? Stay in place and I might just reward you.”

The thought sent a thrill up your spine. Even in that situation.

A part of you still felt incredibly ashamed for being what you were. Every time you came to the thought of something degrading, something cruel, something shameful, your first impulse was to feel bad afterwards. But it got less. And less. And less.

Sex got easier. And so did pleasure.

He made sure to keep your mind occupied. And he made sure to cuddle and caress you to oblivion, each time he had just finished fucking you like a rabid animal, while throwing the worst insults your way and doing the most heinous things to your body.

Of course he took a few measures now that you were pregnant.

When you knelt before him for half an hour while he read the newspaper, he made sure you had a pillow under your knees.

When he pounded into you so hard that you were sure you felt him rip you apart, he made sure to kiss every part of your body afterwards.

Every time.

But your birthday, your birthday…That was different. That was a day you couldn’t ever forget. If you were forced to find your end at only twenty-five, pinned to your bed and pregnant, at least you wanted to think of something beautiful. And that was what your birthday was.

Everything started when he woke you up with a soft breath of a Happy Birthday in your ear. You had been so sure that he either had no idea about it, or if he did, he wouldn’t mention it. But he did. He wished you a Happy Birthday, only a few seconds after he felt you stir in the morning. The thought of that alone was enough to make your heart race in your chest. But that was nothing compared to what else was to come, right?

You didn’t expect much. No, in fact you didn’t expect anything.

So it was all the more surprising and unnerving when he left the room and came back with a giant present. It was packed in dark green wrapping paper, with a big, white ribbon on top. He hadn’t even gotten dressed yet, which was rather uncommon. Sure, he wasn’t the most organized, not with you. He had his ways of dealing with things, but he allowed himself to let loose every now and then. Morning sex and messy kisses before he even got out of bed. But when he did, he normally headed towards the bathroom and came back dressed. Not in anything special, but enough to remind him – and you – that another day had started.

But that day he vanished in nothing but his boxers and he came back exactly like that. You sat on the bed and watched with wide eyes as he came back, wearing no more than that little clothing. His body drew your attention almost involuntarily. Whenever he was near and whenever he looked like that, just a little messy, but still so fucking perfect, you couldn’t help but stare at him.

He was yours. He belonged to you. Only you.

That thought was enough to nearly make your heart stop beating.

You hardly even focused on the present, until he placed it right before you and made you snap out of your thoughts.

“Open it."

Your gaze dropped down, before you met his again.

“You…you got me a present?”

He immediately frowned. “What kind of silly question is that? Why wouldn’t I? It’s your birthday.”

Your cheeks burned, but not in embarrassment or anything similar. You simply felt the hurt of your last nineteen birthdays well up in you.

His expression softened and he gently cupped your cheek in his hand, his calloused palm rough against your skin and yet you felt yourself lean into his touch. Every touch was a gift.

“Just open it.” He said in a softer tone.

For some reason he seemed far more excited than you were. It wasn’t that you were not – but he seemed all but nervous about your reaction.

With a soft sigh, you began to tug at the paper, your thoughts a whirlwind of emotions.

When was his birthday? Would you ever get to know it? Would you ever be able to go out and buy him a present?

What a funny thought. You didn’t care to flee his fangs any longer, no, all you wanted was to buy him a gift.

By the time the floor was covered in paper snippets and the packaging of the present revealed itself, all other thoughts left your system.

Fuck.

Your head shot up and you stared at him with the most incredulous and confused look you could come up with. He wasn’t smiling, nor was he smug, he seemed to be assessing you. Reading you.

“Is this…”

You looked back down at it and ran your fingertips over the flat surface.

Olympia Carrera de Luxe…Typewriter.

Your fingers stilled against the box and you felt your heart skip a few beats.

You told him about it, of course you did. Just like many other things, like almost every ghost of every thought you ever had. So how would he have missed this? He wouldn’t. He was too observant.

Your dream was to become an author one day, but that wasn’t a secret. But you never mentioned the typewriter, not as in wanting to own one. All that you told him was how your father had owned one, back in the day. You had faint memories of sitting in his study and running your fingertips over the keyboard. It was so different from a computer or a laptop. You couldn’t tell what it was. The feeling of seeing whatever you had written right there, as a physical thing you could touch, fold, take wherever you wanted? Or maybe the way it fit into your physical representation of life. Mobile phones were fine, because everyone had one. It was impossible to survive without them nowadays, if you weren’t living in the forest, in a small cottage, with your own farm and freshly made sourdough bread every night.

But you liked real things. Mostly because you never had them.

You had relied on imagining your life rather than living it for as long as you could remember. But what you really wanted was a man to build a fence for you. Someone to wear dresses for. Fresh food. Real laughter. Dancing. Moonlight. Forehead kisses. Vintage phones. Photo albums. Ink. Paint. Sizzling food. And love.

Love like you could only find it in old love stories.

The feeling of the typewriter keyboard under your fingertips always made you feel like these things were possible, like life was endless and love was real. But then your father died and your mother got rid of everything, including the typewriter.

You had spent three weeks crying over it, until you finally realized that tears indeed dry out at some point. And if only, because she didn’t allow you to drink any water, until you finally stopped that pathetic whining of yours.

You had told him that. And he had heard you.

So when you looked up at him again, your eyes wide and filled with a veil of tears, the corner of his mouth twitched in uncertainty.

“I can bring it back, if you don’t like it.” He said in a soft voice. “I just thought you might.”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat as you looked back down at it.

“I can’t believe you did that.” You whispered.

When you looked back up again, you were smiling.

His eyes were still narrowed in uncertainty, as though he believed you were only saying this, because you felt obligated to. Your smile widened at that and you let out a quiet laugh. Without hesitation, you set the package down on the floor and straddled his lap, causing him to fall back against the mattress. His eyes widened for a brief moment, but he let you. His hands fell to your hips and he held you gently in place.

“You really like it?” He asked quietly.

“No one ever did something like that for me.” You whispered and rested your forehead against his. The way his breath seemed to catch in his throat, how your initiative still seemed to catch him off-guard, it was just a lovely bonus.

“Thank you.” You breathed out before you brushed your lips over his. “Thank you. I love it. And I love you.”

His eyes fell shut and he brushed his fingertips under your shirt, gently running his palms along your bare back. It made you shiver and he only ever pulled you closer.

“Happy Birthday.” He murmured against your lips.

Your smile widened impossibly, despite the tears that still stung your eyes.

“Just because of you.” You murmured right back.

Later that day, you found yourself sitting opposite him at the kitchen table. Things were…incredible.

They had often been these days, but that day was different in any sense. Not for a single second had you seen his hand twitch or his jaw clench. No, he was simply perfect.

Of course he had cooked the most heart-wrenching meal. You had no idea what it was or how you were supposed to spell it out, but it was delicious. More so than anything you had ever tasted before. Sitting in the kitchen and watching him cook had been the most relaxing thing you had done in a while, but it also made your mind wander all the same.

You loved cooking with him. It was always sweet, because he never lost his patience over spilled condiments or little mistakes you might have made. No, he stood behind you, his hands on your hips, his head resting on your shoulder. Or sometimes you stood curled into his side, simply observing. He liked cooking, you could tell and you tasted it with every spoonful. What you loved most though was simply co-existing with him, performing a basic, human task. Sometimes he’d hug you from behind and other times he’d shoot you that cocky smirk you loved so much. Whatever it was, it made you love him all the more.

But that night was different from any other time you had done it. You simply sat there, your knees pulled to your chest and your chin resting on your knees and you watched him cook. The precision in his movements, the focus in his expression, that little lip bite. It was all enough to make you swoon.

He was an attractive man, that much was clear. Aside from that, you weren’t sure if he really was your type – in case you ever had one. A part of you believed you didn’t have the right to have a type, since you never loved anyone and no one ever loved you before. It was all in your head, a wild mixture of all kinds of people in fiction and real life you had come to think attractive during some point in your life. Most of them actors, some your age, a few a little older, others quite a few decades above you. It wasn’t that you had daddy issues per say. You just found solace in the thought of a life that was already figured out.

Whatever it was, all of them normally had a little flaw. A little something, a little difference. You never fell for the quarterback, no, it was always some outcast who caught your attention.

Most people fell for Jon Snow for the time being, but your focus was always on Dolorous Edd. With his whole rough-around-the-edges-appearance and his dry sense of humor, he was your man. Jon was too perfect.

It had always been like that and you had never really thought about it. But that night, you suddenly realized, there was more to him that attracted you than his looks. If he was him, but with a kind, uncomplicated soul, with a smile that never left his lips, if all he ever did was assure and love and lull you…Would you still have fallen in love with him?

Probably not.

You realized that you weren’t exactly normal. But as you sat there, watching his quiet confidence and yet the ever-present sort of tension that always lingered somewhere inside of him, you realized you loved him.

For him.

You didn’t need him to change – not for you. The only reason you wanted it, was for him to be happy and carefree. Nothing more.

You didn’t mind his darkness, not even his cruelty, because he was yours and after every storm there followed the calm.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

You snapped out of your thoughts. “What?”

He took a sip of his drink and watched you over the rim of his glass. “You’ve been staring at me. Again.”

That made you smile. “Are you getting shy?”

The sound of his laughter filled the room, real and unbridled. Your heart swelled with happiness and peace as you watched him, a warm smile on your lips.

“Just admit that you don’t like it.”

At your confused frown, he nodded towards your plate. You blinked in confusion and glanced down, only to realize he was almost done and you had hardly even eaten anything.

“Oh!” Your face flushed at the sentiment. “How long did I stare at you?”

He flashed you a grin that bared his teeth. “Are you getting shy?”

Your smile widened and so did the flush on your skin. “Oh, shush.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he observed you pick up your cutlery and take a generous bite, just to prove him wrong.

A part of you had always assumed men preferred women who didn’t eat. Who never used the bathroom and God forbid, there was ever a hair on your body where it didn’t belong.

But he had quickly proven your thoughts wrong. In reality, except for the times he had starved you in order to…break your will? Whatever it was. Except for those times, he seemed very content watching you eat and rather concerned whenever you didn’t. You didn’t feel the need to be something you were not with him. It should have probably been the bare minimum, but to you it was more. To you, it was something to be grateful for.

You did prove him wrong and showed him that you indeed loved whatever he cooked, by finishing the plate. You raised a brow and shot him a challenging look, as you set the cutlery aside.

He grinned like a predator stalking its prey. “Aren’t we proud over some pasta and steak.”

Your lips curved up into a slow smile. “Just trying to prove a point.”

He hummed softly and leaned back in his chair. “You want your cake now or later?”

Your eyes widened. “Cake?”

He shrugged. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

“But I’m full.”

“So, later.” He smirked. “Or do you give up already? Weakling.”

You laughed. “You’re in for a real tragedy. There’s always space for cake.”

His smile softened. “That’s my girl.”

His words sent a pleasant tingle down your spine and you had no way of hiding that from him. He watched you with a mixture of amusement and fondness.

“Come. Let’s dance.”

Your brows shot up. “But I don’t know how.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll show you. Just trust me.”

And you did. When he held out his hand to you, you took it and followed him to the living room. Except for the gramophone (how old was this man, truly? There it was again. Your dream life…The cottage.) in the corner of the room, he wasn’t entirely frozen in time and so he had a music box playing, connected to a phone. Before you knew it, you heard a familiar tune hum quietly in the background.

He placed on hand on your waist, while he used the other one to intertwine your fingers. Your free hand rested on his shoulder and you looked up at him with wide, unsure eyes.

“Don’t be nervous.” He murmured. “It’s just us. I’m leading you. Just relax.”

It was no more than gentle swaying through the air, but to your surprise it felt far easier than expected. You couldn’t tell if it was the wine in your system, cutting your usual inhibitions short, or if truly was him. Whatever it was, when he spun and twirled you around, you let him – and you found you enjoyed it more than you ever thought possible. You were wearing the green dress, one of the first ones he had ever gotten for you. Mostly because you knew what it did to him. He kept glancing down at you, assessing you, licking his lips. And it drove you wild.

Not only with desire. But also the desire to be looked at like that by him.

You continued dancing, your rhythm slow, your thoughts caught in-between right there and somewhere else entirely. After a little while you felt his fingers tangle in your hair, gently pulling you into his chest.

“You know I tried my best to turn your black eyes hazel…And kiss away your cruelty…I gladly got undressed, put all my cards on the table...And by cards, I mean me…Apple in mouth, then you left town…Ran after you until my legs gave out...”

You hummed and your brows furrowed. “Interesting…choice of song.”

You heard his smirk before you saw it. “I found it on your phone, so I assumed you might like it.”

That made you look up at him. “Before you drowned it in tea, you mean.”

He exhaled softly through his nose. “Do you miss it? Your phone?”

A thoughtful hum later, you shook your head. “Not really.”

“I could always get you a new one.”

That caused your brows to shoot up in surprise. “Oh? Aren’t you afraid that I might end up calling the police?”

He shrugged. “To tell them what?”

There it was. The crack in the fourth wall, the cut in the curtain. What was it that you were doing here with him? You were hardly his victim, right?

“I came crawlin' in on all fours…Knockin' at your door…Knockin' at your door…”

Instead of making things more complicated, you somehow made a smile happen. “That a crazy man drowned my phone.”

He smiled as well, but it didn’t seem as genuine as he might have hoped for. He pulled you back into his chest and you continued to swing and sway to the soft melody. It was a song you had heard quite some times before, but you hadn’t ever thought back to it since you were there. Music was the least of your concerns. But now that you thought about it, maybe it did apply to him in a way.

“I don't wanna bleed anymore…I just wanted love…But you wanted gore…You're my matador.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

You didn’t need to look up to see the genuine concern in his eyes. His tone of voice was gentle, almost nonchalant. But there was a depth behind his words, a quiet uncertainty.

When you pulled your head back, he was already staring at you.

“Do you want me to be afraid of you?” You asked in the same, gentle tone.

He regarded you with a soft look and quietly admitted: “I don’t know.”

You took a slow breath, but didn’t say anything more. There was not much to say anyway. His words weren’t hurtful or at least they weren’t meant to be. You could tell.

“I want you to feel safe with me. Because you are.” He breathed against your temple. “Sometimes I just…I don’t understand what I want.”

“I do.” You whispered back, before you could stop yourself.

He froze in his tracks and looked down at you.

You decided to continue on with your courageous mission, even it might cost you your head in the end. “You want to control me.”

“Why are you so calm about this?” He asked quietly and he seemed genuinely confused.

“Because…Well, I don’t know.”

The only sound in the room were the soft tunes of the music and the quiet rustling of your clothes when you went back to your slow dancing. He didn’t press any further and so didn’t you. It was a quiet understanding of some sort. You belonged to him and you didn’t fight it. You weren’t perfect and he didn’t fight it either.

Because he fucking loved you. What else could matter there?

After a long while, after you already thought he had slipped into the abyss of his dark thoughts, he suddenly made you snap out of your own thoughts.

“Do you miss home?”

The question hit you harder than expected.

“Home?” You croaked out.

He nodded. “Yorkshire.”

You had to think it through for a moment. Then, with certainty you could say: “No. Not the way you think.”

He cocked a brow and waited for you to explain.

You hummed and gently tightened your grip on his shoulder. “I don’t miss her godforsaken house or anything else there. I don’t miss the Yorkshire I left behind. If anything, I miss the Yorkshire that Emily Bronte created. And I don’t miss her. I miss what it could be.” Your brows furrowed. “With you.”

His lips twitched in half-amusement. “Oh, yeah? You want me chase you through the moors like Heathcliff?”

You smiled. “Isn’t that what you are to me?”

His expression softened somewhat, but you saw the quiet concern flashing behind his dark eyes. “You’re not just some possession to me.”

“I know.” You whispered.

He exhaled a slow breath and gently cupped your face in his palms. They felt warm against your skin and everything else faded away, leaving your soul stripped bare beside his. He saw no flaws in it. Your brokenness didn’t send him running. Instead he was here, wrapping his clipped wings around you to protect your own.

“I want a future with you.”

There was not a thing in the world he could have said that would have made you feel a similar way. Your palms felt sweaty and your breath stuttered in your throat. There it was. The wall. The curtain. It was crumbling – and it didn’t hurt at all. But hope was a dangerous thing to have.

When he saw the way you struggled to come up with a reply, he continued, while his thumbs drew gentle patterns on your cheeks.

“I may not be the right man for picket fences and barbecues, but for you, I’d like to try. I never saw myself in that. Marriage. Children. Life. I never thought I’d make it this far anyway. I was always sure I’d be dead and gone and long forgotten, before I even reached thirty. It was never meaningful to me, none of it. I might as well have died.” He sighed softly. “Maybe it’s still that way. But you make it much more bearable for me.”

You didn’t mean to feel as touched as you did. But you were a natural crybaby it seemed and also, you were sure you were about to get your period, so you found your eyes grow damp.

Marriage. Children. Life.

“I don’t want picket fences and barbecues.” You heard yourself whisper. “We…we could just be us.”

His lips curved into a soft smile and you were sure, you saw the way his black eyes turned hazel again.

“I’d love that.”

Later that same night, after you had learned that dancing wasn’t as bad as you thought and your life wasn’t equally as hopeless, you found yourself underneath him. It wasn’t new, it wasn’t special either. But to you, it felt like it was.

His lips moved against yours with the same urgency as always, but there was something softer behind his touch, something that was almost careful. Like he didn’t intend to break your already fragile soul any further.

The tip of his tongue brushed against your own and that alone was enough to draw a moan from your lips.

“My naughty girl.” He murmured and slowly ran his fingertips up your thigh, pushing the material of the dress up your body. A few seconds later, he froze.

“Where’s your underwear?”

You couldn’t help but grin and shrug.

He sucked in a sharp breath and you saw his eyes darken. “You had no underwear on this whole time?”

“Mhm.” You purred.

“You…little…”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that you didn’t realize-“

“Minx!”

His lips crashed against yours again and he wasted no more time. His warm hands wandered up your body and he quickly discarded your dress on the floor, followed by your bra. You felt exposed when the cold air hit your skin, especially since he was still fully dressed. Your hands instinctively reached up to undo his shirt, but he quickly pinned your wrists against the mattress above your head and he kissed you with the fervor of a dying man. He used one hand to undo the buttons, while at the same time one of his knees settled between your own, pushing your legs apart. You felt so vulnerable, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but part them even further for him, desperate to finally feel him. When he felt the way you parted your legs for him, a low growl rumbled in his throat.

“Fuck, my dirty girl.” He breathed out and tossed his shirt aside, soon followed by his slacks. You felt his hardness before you saw it. He took your hand and guided it down his body and before you knew it, you felt your fingers wrap around him, your thumb brushing the little, damp spot on the material of his underwear. He groaned against your lips and bucked his hips against your touch.

“Fuck, yes. Come on, baby, touch me.”

Your hand slid inside and wrapped around his skin, all the while your eyes stayed focused on his face. The look in his eyes, the darkness, it was enough to drive you mad.

You bit your lip as you began to gently stroke him, rubbing your thumb over his tip in the most gentle touch. He groaned again and his head dipped forward, his forehead pressed against your collarbone.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He kept bucking his hips, moving in rhythm with you. The way he bit his own lip to stifle any sounds and yet it didn’t help. The fact that you could do this to him…

A shuddering breath and...

“I want to have your baby.”

The words slipped past your lips way faster than you could stop them and you weren’t sure if you were ready to regret them. It was true. And at the same, you were scared shitless. It was stupid before it was anything else. But you wanted what he said. A future. A future with him.

He froze and his body went rigid above you. For a short moment, you were sure you had fucked up. But then he pulled his head back and you saw his eyes. Nearly black.

“Say that again.” He growled.

“I…”

“Say it.” He breathed out and tugged your head back by your hair. You moaned and arched your back, involuntarily pressing against him. He pulled your hand away and held your jaw firmly in place.

“Say it again.” He nearly hissed.

“I want to have you baby. I want you to…I want you…to…”

His lips found your neck and he left a trail of flaming-hot kisses against your skin. His kisses turned to bites, his bites to groans. His boxers shared the same fate your clothing did and before you knew it, he pushed your legs apart, as wide as possible.

“I don’t want you to say this, if you don’t really mean it.” His voice was a mixture of furious and pleading. He was taking control so effortlessly and at the same time, he was incredibly gentle.

You might have been confused, had you not been so desperate to finally feel him.

“I do mean it.” You whispered breathlessly. “I don’t need a fucking picket fence. Haunt me all you want. Kill me if you will. But let me be yours. Don’t look at anyone else. Love only me.”

You had no idea what you were talking. It was probably the wine speaking…or just the depths of your soul.

His expression shifted from quiet despair to something dark, something dangerous.

He leaned down and bit down on your earlobe, the sting of it enough to make you jerk, but not quite enough to really hurt you.

“Are you sure about this? Because, if you are, there is no way back. Because I want this. I fucking want this.”

You bit your lip and slowly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him against you. His hardness pressed up against your slick core and you were sure you heard him let out a muffled moan against your neck.

“Fill me up. I don’t want a way out. I just want you.”

He didn’t ask again.

He pushed himself inside you, but he was gentle about it. It was as though he was trying to savor the feeling, to feel every little bit of you wrapped around him. You inhaled sharply and exhaled just as hard. Every time his breath hit your neck and he pushed a little further in, you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to meet him in the middle.

“Fuck.” He breathed out. “Fuck. I love you. I love this. Fuck, I want to die this way.”

His words sent a shudder through you. “Shut up.” You breathed out. “If something happened to you…”

You didn’t want to think about it, but you did every day. If something ever happened to him…

You couldn’t finish the thought.

He intertwined your fingers with his and pressed your hands against the mattress, his lips just a breath away from yours.

“You’d just go on living.” He whispered.

He gave a slow, deliberate roll of his hips and so you couldn’t answer immediately. But when you did, it was no less desperate. You shook your head, almost frantically.

“What am I going to do if you die, huh? Just live in a world with no you in it? Pass. Fuck. You’d have to kill me first.”

His movements stuttered for a moment, his eyes fixed on you. There was a slowness between you, a feeling like the rest of the world wasn’t really there. Eventually, he continued moving and he wasn’t slow about that. Every thrust he gave was determined, determined to either prove a point or maybe get you pregnant.

He leaned down and his lips barely grazed your ear as he whispered: “You can’t say shit like that to me.”

You didn’t argue. You couldn’t. You were too busy clawing at his back and trying to focus solely on the pressure he put on you. Before you knew what had hit you, you were already gasping and whining out your release.

When he felt your walls clench around him, he let out a low moan against your neck. “What do you want?” He breathed out, his movements never slowing.

“Fill me up.” You breathed out desperately. “Fuck, I want you. Forever.”

These words were enough. His movements stilled, but you felt the way he throbbed inside you, filling you with his seed and his love. His hope. Whatever this was, you wanted more of it. You wanted it all.

He was still gasping for air and so were you. His hands were gentle in your hair and his lips moved softly against your temple.

“I love you. Fuck, I love you. My birthday girl.”

You bit down on your lip and closed your eyes. “I love you more.”

He let out a low chuckle and was probably about to protest, when he felt you tense underneath him.

His eyes shot open and he regarded with a concerned look. “What is it? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, your expression tense. “I just…I think I got…I may have gotten my…” You swallowed, still feeling him pressed against you, but you suddenly felt way more uneasy.

His brows furrowed in confusion, until it suddenly hit him.

He pulled back just enough to look down at you and, indeed. A bloody mess.

“Ah.”

“I’m sorry…” You murmured, your face flushed in embarrassment and shame. “I’ll clean it up, I’ll-“

“Shh.”

He gently tipped your chin up, but your eyes stayed firmly shut.

“What?” He murmured. “You thought I’d be repulsed by this?”

You swallowed and nodded. For some reason, this felt far more humiliating than you ever imagined before.

He sighed softly and gently stroked your hair.

“I’m cleaning it up.” He murmured. “But I’m not repulsed, my silly girl.”

“You’re only saying this so I feel better.”

“No.” He murmured. “I’m saying it, because it’s fucking turning me on.”

Your eyes shot open the same instant.

“You…what?”

He nodded without hesitation. And truly. You felt him, just then. Hard again.

Your eyes widened impossibly, but the flush on your face only deepened. Your mother had somehow made you believe that your monthly blood was something terribly shameful. A curse, a punishment, because women were without shame and that was the only way to stop them.

You never knew what exactly she meant, but it was enough to make you hate yourself over it.

“That- I-“

“Why don’t you come to the shower with me…and I’ll show you exactly what I mean?”

You had no strength to protest. You had come quick to learn, his word meant more than your mother’s ever did. And you didn’t mind.

Even when he hated you, he still loved you. Unlike her.

So you found yourself in the shower only a minute later, pressed against the cold wall behind you. He turned on the water for the cold to fade, but he quickly had you pinned against the wall, while the hot water burned its way through your skin.

“What are you-“

He groaned against your lips and pressed himself against you. All normal. It was all fine. The blood would just wash away, right? Like all bad and shameful things did at some point.

But before you knew it, he was on his knees.

On his knees.

You nearly fainted.

“What are you-“

He hooked one of your legs around his shoulder and attached his lips to your core, before you could protest. Your eyes widened and your blush was near painful. But the thrill…the thrill it sent through your body…

You nearly came, right then and there.

What the hell was he doing? Did this really turn him on?

And why did it turn you on, the way it did him?

He lapped and sucked at you in the most intimate way, a low groan on his lips every now and then. His lips and tongue moved in a cruel speed and you quickly realized you couldn’t just pretend this wasn’t happening.

Because it was happening. And you were about to feel it unravel.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him in place, your hips moving on their own accord and a breathless moan was on your lips.

There it was. The feeling.

May the water never wash that feeling away.

Your body trembled and shuddered violently as you came and it never seemed to stop. A few seconds later it eventually did. The reality of the situation came crushing back on you, but before you could dwell on it, he was on his feet, towering above you.

“Are you still ashamed?” He whispered breathlessly, brushing his lips against your earlobe.

“Yes.” You whispered back.

He groaned and spun you around, so his chest was pressed against your back.

“Don’t be.” His tone was a quiet command, and yet you recognized the hint of pleading behind his words.

Don’t be ashamed of your pleasure. Don't be afraid of mine.

He didn’t give you time to be ashamed though. He was inside you before you could even think about being. And this time there was nothing gentle about it. Just your vampire lover, pounding away at you and taking what he wanted.

“Are you still ashamed?” He grunted while he mercilessly fucked you into the wall.

You opened your mouth, but all you could do was moan.

His smirk. His smirk was the most cruel sound in the world. But at the same time you were thankful. He didn’t let you be ashamed for something you both wanted.

“Thought so.”

A beat later, his smirk softened into something else and he slowed his movements just slightly to whisper against your earlobe.

"You'll get to know in time. Everything...Me. I promise you."

That was exactly what you thought about.

A day filled with as much sorrow as there was hope. And now there it was. A life growing inside of you, strong and resilient against everything that had hurt you in the past and would continue to hurt you. Until it was too late.

Fucking hell.

Was this your last day on earth?

__________________________________________

Tag list 1: @mitsuki-dreamfree@kpopsmutty69@heroine-chique@vkeyy@mizuwki@blu-brrys@z0mbi345@yourpointbreak@ayieayee@freddyzeppsworld@lola11111111@indifitel6661@salesmanlover08@laurenbenoit70@lalalaa2210@lila-marshal@auspicious-lilana@0-aubrie0@lovelyaegyo@theredvelvetbitch@violentbluess@muriels-lover@dorayakissu@eviebuggg@muchwita@ririgy@strxlemon@obsessedwthdilfs@kiwilov3@misty-q

Author's note: Hey, guys! This chapter cost me years of my life yet again......I started writing this last night and finished it just now, with a sleeping break of course, but I'm just about to head out and I'm still sick, so I'm in no real condition to proofread. I'll do that later, I think...I just hope I didn't talk gibberish here. If I did at some point, please forgive me!

However, thank you guys for your patience and your constant love and motivation! A few things in this chapter were inspired by (anonymous) requests and I'll answer the asks in time!

What I remember definitely is: the period issue, the slow dancing, her wanting for him to finish in her in order to get pregnant, teasing him with no underwear and "What am I going to do if you die, huh? Just live in a world with no you in it? Pass." - "You can't say shit like that to me."

I love you, guys!

Yours eternally,

Lana

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oc-brainstorms · 2 months ago

Text

Lost my AirPods, found them in my bag after half an hour of looking.

Relieved, I sat down and went to grab onto my vape.

A fair reward for a job well done!

Horror struck.

In all my efforts to find my dearest AirPods I had misplaced my poor vape.

Never mind, it’s right next to me.

Toodles!

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oc-brainstorms · 2 months ago

Text

I’m sick and haven’t slept but i have such an urge to finish all the fics i wanna write but no energy.

Fml

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oc-brainstorms · 2 months ago

Text

My Strange Addiction 18+ PART 2

Dae-ho x f!reader/ Thanos x f!reader x Nam-gyu(Kinda, I'm sorry i'm down bad for the whole fkn cast)

Please read Part 1 first or you'll think i'm a right freak.

Synopsis: SMUT! Mingle game takes a turn when the rooms tend to make everyone horny bastards.

warnings: Dead dove do not eat!/Kinda dark/swearing/mentions of death/murder/ kinda cheating?/Mentions god(in a bad way)/Voyeurism/bathroom sex/public sex/mentions of anal/smut/reader uses thanos/Dae-ho is kinda pervy/rough/non-con?dub-con?ish/unprotected sex/p in v/Oral (M receiving)/daddy kink/reader is a sex addict/horny af/reader is fucking feral/overall filth/aftercare/angst/fluff/reader has some major issues/threesome/abandonment/T and N have a threeway with reader/hand-jobs/cliffhanger (lit needed to otherwise i wouldve carried on forever. (I haven't slept so if I've forgotten anything let me know) READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Words: 6.3k (so sorry)

A/N: Thank you very much for all your support. This took me forever to write i do apologise, I have not edited it yet so it may have a lot of spelling mistakes and inconsistencies but I'll get to it once my dissertation proposal is in. Also thank you for the comments about Y/N as a character, i based her a lot on my own experiences with sex addiction and other trauma responses so her getting some love is healing me a little bit :) Hope you like it!!

--------------

I follow the tall man through the dimly lit hall, my mind unable to conjure up a singular conscious thought as he leads me by my hand. My feet feel heavy as they shuffle behind him, cringing at the soft squeaks of the cheap platforms on the laminated flooring.

I hate it when my body does this. I push and push and push it until everything catches up. Every time I let someone use me, or I hurt myself because I just can’t resist my urge to feel needed, wanted by someone-even for a short moment.

We approach a crowd of bunks in the corner, with soft snores and the occasional sleep-ridden murmur breaking through the quiet.

Dae-Ho stops in front of a row, gripping onto the metal bar of the frame and pulling himself up onto it, his back muscles cutting through his t-shirt, grabbing the notice of my burry eyes.

“C’mon, i’ve got you.” He whispers softly, reaching out to grab under my arms and help lift me up.

I clambered up onto his bed with the grace of a fairy elephant, sliding into his open arms.

He draws me to his chest, my hands awkwardly coming up to sit between us. I make an attempt to smile casually up at him as his free arm comes up to brush my hair away from my face with the gentlest touch, his eyes softly gazing down at me as mine flutter shut from the sensation.

I wish i was used to this, the gentle touching and being treated like i’m in some rom-com i would watch in the background while i clean my flat. I wish i could enjoy the thought of going on a date, having a crush to obsess over and the slow burn of a budding relationship.

Maybe somewhere I know that i don’t deserve it, or i just know nobody will ever feel the same way so i don’t view it as an option. If i act like i don’t care maybe someday i’ll convince myself. If i don’t care then i cant get hurt, and how blissful would life be without hurt?

“You tired?” He coos, his hot breath hitting the top of my head from the proximity.

I hum in response, not daring to open my eyes as I give a small nod.

“Sleep baby i’ll keep you safe.” His grip tightens around me as his hand moves from my hair to hold the back of my head, pushing it further into his chest. My body doesn’t have any fight left in it to resist the strong grip of sleep as i feel myself sink into unconciousness.

I was woken by a soft shaking of my shoulder, feeling my heavy eyes drag open to see we were still in darkness. Confusion crosses my face as I crane my neck up to look at the man next to me.

He’s propped up on one elbow, the other softly rubbing at my upper arm. His hair is still shoved up into the bun, rogue baby hairs peeking out and making im look more dishevilled than usual.

“Hey, i’m sorry sweetie but you’ve gotta go now.” His voice is low and thick with sleepyness, he’s clearly just woke up himself.

“Go?” I mumble out, confusion painting my face. My distaste for early rises making me extra aggy.

“Back to your bunk, before people start waking up.”

“Oh, right.”

I push myself up, head still fuzzy from the disturbed sleep and practically throw myself off the edge of the bed, not caring about the thud of my feet hitting the floor as i stand on shaky, un-stretched legs. I don’t bother looking back at him as I force my feet to move, hands coming up ro rub the sleep out of my sore eyes as I merely miss the corner of the bed frame.

As walk of shames go, at least it’s a short one.

Hobbling back, I only just make it onto my bunk as the world’s most annoying song starts playing and the overbearing lights switch on.

I groan into my pillow, extra-pissed from the loss of at least 2 minutes sleep.

What wouldn’t I give right now to be buried in blankets in my stiff bed in my shitty heatless apartment?

Breakfast was as boring as always, a single egg and a small pot of milk, wonder how the vegans are doing.

I couldn’t help but let my eyes trail over to the other side of the room, finding myself searching for any sight of Dae-Ho. I never caught him looking back at me, only him chatting to his group or eating his breakfast, his cheeks looking remarkably chipmunk-esque as he did.

Why do I care? I don’t. It’s just another stupid guy, he probably doesn’t even remember my name, hell he kicked me out before anyone even saw me, am i really dumb enough to think he’ll be searching for me too?

I sigh, pushing myself off my bed and running my hands through my hair, walking across the hall and throwing my rubbish into the bin on my way to the bathroom. I resist the urge to check once again if i’m being watched as i make my way out.

Time to focus on living to see another day other than what dick is on offer for tonight.

—

Mingle. In school, this was more of a popularity contest than a game. The people with the most friends did well, making it to the last round while everyone else scampered around trying to find someone unlucky enough to need one more person.

Safe to say, I was never very good at it.

The first few rounds went smoothly, well for me, I managed to cling to a few odd groups, hopping around like a substitute, or a placeholder until the number was what they had enough people in their group for. A few men grabbed me on their way into rooms, leading to the terrifying experience of being in a locked room with a group of strange men who feel like you owe them for not letting you die.

Almost done. I think to myself, my heart pounding in my chest from the insane amount of cardio this game is forcing me into.

I side-step patches of blood, trying to avoid slipping over as I make my way back to the platform.

The crowd has become more scarce each round, leaving a noticeable emptiness to the room. Sniffles, sobs and sombre stares fill it.

Fortunately for the dim lighting and chaotic energy in the room, my mind had been forced away from my disappearing fuckbuddy and onto avoiding bodies and bullets. The ground underneath me is starting to make me feel dizzy, my tired eyes desperately trying to cling to a point in the room like a fucking ballerina.

“Three!” The sickly childlike voice called out into the room, the harsh halter of the platform almost launching me into the woman in front of me.

Snapping my head around, I search through waves of panicked faces in search of two people, my feet frozen to the ground. It’s so much harder to cling to people when everyone has at least 2 favourites here.

Breaking myself out of my trance, I force my feet to move. I push off towards two people standing in front of one of the open doors, but before I can even get half way there i’m knocked to the ground by a rapid strength. I feel my ass getting wet from the blood covered floor as I watch this bulldozer claim the room I was set on, disappearing into the room and the door shutting behind them.

Panic starts to seep into my brain as I realise my time is dangerously low. Scarpering to my feet I try to collect myself, running along the rows of doors hoping for an entrance.

As I reach a green door, I feel my arm get tugged roughly. Thrown into the bright room it covered, and once again landing on my ass with a thud.

As I gather my composure I hear the door slam and lock behind me. A silent prayer to-well, every god I could think of crossed my thoughts as I gained the courage to take in my surroundings.

An unfortunately familiar pair of faces came into view, one tall man with purple hair and shaky hands and another with a fuckass bob and his zipper pulled to his lips.

Three people.

At least we’re a three.

“Bit rough don't you think?” I can’t help but comment through panting breaths.

“Doesn’t sound much like a thank you.” Nam-Gyu glares, his sarcastic comment muffled by the metal in his mouth.

“Don’t worry, my girl always thanks me properly doesn’t she?” Thanos smirked, reaching one hand out to stroke at the green fabric covering my arm, giving it a slight tug towards him.

I can sense my brain going fuzzy, the adrenaline and fear and heaven knows whatever else is running through me creating an intoxicating mixture of compulsions in my body. Working on autopilot, I push through my numbness and play along.

Stepping towards him, a small smile emerges from me as I lean up, taking a second to look into each of his eyes, without acknowledging the thickness of his shot pupils turning his eyes entirely black, and bring my lips up to meet his.

My hands come up to the sides of his jaw, holding his face to mine as I allow my lips to linger on the softness of his. It’s not desperate or particularly sexy considering the environment, but it works for me.

He seems shocked, which is odd for him, his hands barely grazing the sides of my body before landing on my waist. His body soon catches up, lips softly returning the kiss.

I pull away, a mere inch away from him,

“Well fucking kiss me then you pussy, or are you getting stage-fright?” I hiss with a pout, turning my head to nod at the man behind us, whose watching carefully and rightfully confused at the situation.

Thanos furrows his brows, clearly unhappy with the insinuation that any of his performances would be subpar, and without missing a beat clings back on to me-rougher.

Much better.

Turning my body with his, he pushes me up against the cell wall with his lips still attacking mine, ignoring the chimes of the game or the cleaning happening outside.

“Bro you’ve got like 5 minutes tops here-” His friend pipes up, staring basically everywhere apart from the showcase in front of him.

“Shut up man.” He stops to respond, spitting his words angrily over his shoulder.

Pushing him back from me, he lets out a grumble in annoyance as I make space between us, my back still pushed against the cold wall.

“Don’t be so mean, he’s probably just feeling left out.” I pout in mock pity, puppy-dog eyeing the man in front of me and flickering my eyes between the two.

“Wh-what?” Nam-Gyu stutters out, dropping his hands from his mouth and resting his elbow on his palm, his eyes glazing over with a look of defensive confusion.

“Yeah, What?” Thanos whispers harshly to me, surprisingly not whining as i move him back by his shoulder to get a better view.

“come here.” I hold out my hand, urging him to come to me.

Ok this is weird, even for me, but the itch demands to be scratched, and right now it feels like someones dusting a feather over my entire fucking body.

“Nah you’re his girl i ain't messing with that.” he shuffles awkwardly on his feet, eyeing my hand with a look of restrained temptation in his eyes.

“Don’t worry, he likes sharing, don't you?” I turn to Thanos, who looked between both of us with a dumbfounded expression, one hand still hovering over my shoulder on the wall and the other wiping over the fabric of his sweatshirt. He took a deep sigh of acceptance and nodded, his mouth coming up into a crooked line.

“Whatever, ain’t like I care- it’s cool.” he shrugged, still playing into the nonchalant cool-guy persona as he straightened his back, turning to his side to lean on his elbow instead.

“And what kinda person would I be if i didn't thank you both equally?” I smile sweetly.

He takes a second to assess the situation, he seems hesitant to trust whether this was some kind of test.

The realisation of the time limit we’re on seems to push his body forward, with a much more confident stride he slaunters towards me.

“Oh fuck.” Thanos mutters beside me as Nam-gyu brings his mouth to meet mine.

He’s a lot rougher than his friend was, urgency and need running deep through him and expelling into the kiss, his hands running under the hem of my top and grazing his fingertips over my stomach and lower back.

Deciding to play a little more dangerously, I bring my own down to the waistband of his tracksuit, feeling a gasp of surprise against my mouth as I pushed my hand through the elastic.

“Hey, I didn't even get all that, over here playing favourites and shit.”

Ignoring the moans of the purple-headed man next to me, I let my hand grip onto the hard erection stirring in his underwear. His face moves away from mine and his head drops into my neck, sucking and nipping at the soft skin as I start to pump my hand, using the pre-cum leaking from him as lubricant as he fucks up into my palm.

I look over to see Thanos, watching him pout like a child at the view, my eyes trailing down to his crotch to take in the tightness of the area as the fabric pulls around his growing hard-on.

“Awh poor baby, am I neglecting you now?” I bat my lashes at him as he nods painfully, his nail-polished hand reaching down and freeing himself from the confines of his clothing.

“Let me take care of you too then, c’mere.” My free hand reaches for him as he shuffles closer. A strange embarrassment and arousal oozing from him as I wrap my hand around his dick, making sure not to halter my movements on the other.

If there was a prize in here for coordination i’d get it hands down.

His mouth comes to reach mine again as he starts to thrust up to meet me, feeling both of their hands travelling round my body, gripping and squeezing to their hearts content.

A choir of groans and heavy breathing is all that can be heard echoing around the small space.

“Is that good, huh?” I hum, starting to feel lightly bored at the lack of stimulation on my end, my mind no longer feeling that distracted haze.

“Yeah baby doing so good-such a good job for us.” The taller one responds in stuttered out.

My wrists are starting to ache as I feel them both begin to shudder and squirm. Thanos’s body contorting in a way where it’s obvious he’s trying his best to hold out, not wanting to come second.

With heavy breathing on my neck, Nam-Gyu’s sloppy kisses start to fall short, replaced with his teeth nipping at the sore skin instead. I feel hot cum squirt up my wrist, coating both of our skin in a sticky mess.

“God, you didn’t tell me she was such a good slut, would’ve had some fun ages ago.” He chuckled darkly, still catching his breath as he steps away, tucking himself back into his green sweats and placing his hair back neatly behind his ears.

“Please, please, please.” Thanos whimpers, sweat dripping down his forehead, which is resting against the cool tile, one hand on my hip while the other keeps a firm hold on my tit, nipple crushed between two fingers.

“Not long now honey, that doors gonna unlock any second and everyone's gonna see you being such a mess for me, come on baby you can do it.” I whisper up to his ear, seductively letting my teeth graze the skin of his jaw as I come down, thumb swiping over his tip.

He starts to hiss from the overstimulation, frantically grinding his hips and eyes welling up with tears. Hes been edging himself too much, like a dam ready to bust.

“Fuck!” He yelps out, pushing my body to his as creamy-clear steaks of cum cover my clothes in an unmistakable wet patch and drip to the floor.

Fucking finally.

He barely gets enough time to get himself together, dropping his hands from my body to lean back.

Before I can say anything, the snap of the door lock cuts through the sounds of heavy breathing.

My head is spinning from the rush. In record time I compose myself, face flushed and arms tired as I wipe myself down.

“Yo, shut the fuck up man! Lets go.” Nam-gyu bounces, grabbing Thanos by the arm and practically ripping him out the room.

Assholes.

Not even a last glance or word over their shoulder as they leave the room.

Ok, ok. Fuck them, one last round, surely its one more round, I can do this.

I drag myself out of the bright room, covered in a gross sticky substance which is drying down to a crisp texture. If I had any shame left to feel I would probably be crying by now, but I don’t have it in me. Everyone seems to consumed by their own fear and loss to notice me anyways.

—

the time went down and down, the next round being 6 went easier than expected. Immediately I was grabbed by a tight group of fie who were desperate. If I have to be a spare in order to survive then that's what i’ll do. Should probably focus on making more allies in here other than sleeping with them but oh well, who would I be if not me.

Two.

Fuck.

My heart starts racing as I look around, everywhere I look people are being grabbed and shouting and running-there’s no way, no way I can survive this.

Interrupting my spiralling thoughts, my arm is grabbed once again by the flash of a body, dragging me almost off my feet. I would have yelped if I had any energy left in my body to do anything but follow.

The force that I was shoved through a bright orange door with was unnecessary, almost angry with it’s power. My brain and panic hadn't caught up yet enough for me to acknowledge the forceful saviour in front of me.

I look up through loose strands of hair to see a familiar face holding the door shut, his back pushed against it as he breathes deeply. Dae-ho.

“Long time no see.” I crack out, hunched over with my palms against my knees.

“Quiet.’ he glares, rolling his eyes annoyed at my antics.

“Why, we’re already in a room?” I question in a tired huff.

“Because from what I heard round before last, quiet seems to be a hard concept for you.”

I try to suppress the chuckle that swells in my throat, leaning my head against the cool tiles of the wall. My shakes supress and my body starts to relax a little as a small smile begins to play at my mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re on about.”

His eyes drop to me, a stifled anger lying beneath them. The door finally clicks locked behind him and his shoulders relax, muscles dropping down with a sigh of relief.

An awkward moment passes through the air, my lighthearted response meeting dead silence as he shuts his eyes and starts taking deep breaths.

Either he’s about to have a meltdown or a heart attack. Either way I can’t see it going well for me.

“Oh really, so it wasn't you I heard whoring yourself out to those two junkies while everyone was fearing for their lives?” He says with a scary calmness to his voice, like when your parent is waiting for you to admit to something they already know you’ve done.

“Oh.” My smile drops.

Oops.

“What’s wrong with you, huh?” A pointed finger aims at me, pushing off the door and hunching over to glare at my face.

“Why do you enjoy being used so much that it’s more important to you than people dying right outside the door.” Dae-ho raises his voice, shuffling his feet around like he’s trying to use up his built up angry energy.

I bite my tongue to top any sarcastic comment I would usually let slip out. He’s clearly not in the mood to joke around, I usually wouldn't bother- but there's something about this man. This tall, charming sweet man who takes care of pregnant women and respects his elders all while knowing he's fucked me hard in a bathroom cubicle and got off to watching me ride someone else.

“It’s not.” I muster up, avoiding eye contact as he reaches me, his face inches from mine. My fingers awkwardly fondle each other and my shoulders tense.

“Seems like it.” He breathes out, his palms flat beside my head on the wall behind me,

“I don’t know why I do it, I just do.” The flush of my face burns hot and a small voice manages to squeak out of me, defying my emotions.

“And you didn’t have to save me okay? I never asked you to.” My anger reaches the point of breaking and I can feel harsher words edging themselves up my throat.

The soft man who held me as i cried and let me sleep with him as my protector was nowhere to be seen, replaced with the man who chuckled at my humiliation and treated me like i was nothing.

Why should i care? He means nothing to me. I used him as he used me, it was an exchange of the only currency we have access to here, nothing more and nothing less.

My courage finally allows me to look up at him, feeling like an angsty teenager in my defiance.

His jaw tightens as he looks down at me, his eyes flashing with annoyance.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He spits out with a deep sigh after taking far too long to speak, assumedly biting back the same catalogue of words I am.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m gonna show you that you're mine, you clearly haven't realised it already.” His sudden possession almost causes a dark chuckle to escape from me, feeling it urge through from my soul at his position.

“I don’t belong to you.” I spit back, eyes glazing over with furious tears and an urgency to fight back.

“You do, actually. ” He nods, slick smirk not meeting the darkness of his eyes. Taking a short breath he moves his head away from me, his hands which had fallen to the outer skin of my upper-arms gripping harshly as if I had anywhere to run to.

“You also owe me your life now too if you think about it.”

“Prick.” Barely audible i bite back at him, pushing against his chest with a force that couldn’t even push a sheet of paper away.

I don’t want to be owned, i want to be free. I think-

I don’t want someone to possess me, i’m happy.

I’m happy with no commitments.

Nobody to breathe down my neck and tell me what i can do, what i can’t do.

Nobody to make me feel small, to argue with me, hold me, make me cry, comfort me, wipe my tears away.

“Get on the floor.” Emotionless in his posture, his command makes me freeze.

He can’t be fucking serious.

“What?”

He grabs my arm above the elbow in a tight grip, forcefully pushing me down to the floor.

I’m getting really fucking sick of being grabbed.

“I’m not a fucking puppet. I decide when I wanna be thrown around, not you.” Glaring back through my damp lashes, I push myself up on my elbows. My cheeks must be flushed and my lips chapped from the exhaustion of the game.

If i wasn’t so irritated right now I would probably cum just from the angle. He’s stood tall, hair messily tied up and his breathing deep, chest moving under his white t-shirt. His arms dangerously flexing muscles in an angry restraint.

I know its not normal to want this, its my own fucked up view of life, of love-of sex. I just can’t stop myself, my mind from betraying me and thinking about him choking me until I pass out.

How it would feel for him to shove my face into the cool tile floor and take what he wants.

He lunges forward, poised like a panther as he grabs onto my thighs, pulling my legs towards him so he can slip in and kneel between. A gasp is all that slips out of me, my arms finding themselves laid beside my head. Submissive.

“You see, i’m not too sure angel.” His posture is straight, hands tightly pushing into the skin of my hips, absentmindedly scanning over my clothed torso with his eyes.

His hands trail up, nails scraping gently against my skin as he moves up my body, his eagerness kept at bay as he slowly glides his palms over my stomach and up to my ribcage.

“To me, it seems like you want this, as much as you argue.” His eyes drop in a lust-blurred haze, his mouth slightly ajar as he pushes my top further up.

He’s not wrong, I haven’t made a single move to stop him since he got on top of me, my thoughts abandoning me to a buzz. I fight inside my head with my emotions, who have once again let me down considering the familiar feeling between my legs and the pulse i can feel thumping in my ears.

Don’t let me do this. Anyone else would’ve kicked him off by now. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“You see that camera up there?” The shaking of my body forgotten to his strength as he moves his left hand up to my jaw, forcing my head back to look at the corner.

“They’re gonna get a nice view of my girl getting a reminder of who she belongs to.” His hand tightens around my jaw, dropping to hold my throat. All I can do is let out a pathetic strained whimper in response.

The hand on my body continues pushing my T-shirt up, his face leaning closer to talk lowly into my skin.

“You think one of those guards is watching?” He teases, not once looking up from his position. Soft open-mouthed kisses trailing along the exposed skin.

“He’s probably already rock-hard from your little show in there, wonder if this will finish him off.” Suddenly my bra is ripped from my body and pushed up to dangle meaninglessly from my shoulders. A harsh sob breaks from my lips by the action.

Where the hell am I supposed to get a new bra from?

Without a second thought, his mouth moves up and tugs on one of my nipples, hard from the cold chill of the room hitting them.

Like a man possessed, his erection starts to thrust against me with sharp snaps of his hips, moaning harshly in rambles lost against the sore skin his teeth continue to harass.

“We don’t have a lot of time so you’re gonna be good for me and show me you’re sorry aren’t you?” My back arches as he moves away from me, my body rejecting the lack of intimacy.

“Yes, sir.”

He wastes no time dragging his hands down to pull at my waistband, stripping me bare of any shield from him. I hiss at the harshness of the cold nipping at my slick heat. Once my clothes are discarded he repositions himself, my knees flung up and legs shoved over his shoulders.

The unfairness of him being fully clothed is soon forgotten when he frees himself from the cheap sweats laid low on his hips, dragging them slower with painfully slow movements until I have a clear view of his leaking cock.

I resist the urge to moan greedily at the sight, instead opting to thrust my hips further up into him.

“Please, please, please.” Slips through my lips, unsure of what i’m even asking for.

“Nice and loud for me princess, c’mon let everybody know who you belong to.”

Without a second to spare he shoves himself into me, bottoming out immediately without any concern for the resistance of my walls. A pained scream rips out of me, swarmed with pleasure.

Faster and faster he starts to move into me, keeping just as much force behind each thrust.

My eyes can’t help but roll to the back of my head as his tip meets the perfect spot inside of me, the hold he has on my thighs keeping me in perfect place as it hit there over and over and over.

He speaks in short grunts, his eyes never leaving the bounce of my body as he ruins me.

“Too. Good. Too. fucking. good.” Dae-Ho suddenly snaps, gripping my hair to pull my face to his, the pain would be almost unbearable if i wasn’t so blinded by the ungodly pleasure pooling from my pussy and dripping all over the disgusting floor.

Bent in half like a fucking pretzel for this man, I look up to him, tears streaming down my cheeks and creating an itchy mess under my chin.

“Oh fuck.” He grunts out, his other hand coming to grip my chin again. Two fingers reach up to peel my mouth open, balancing on my lower lip.

His eyes flicker something strange, a mix of lust, frustration and maybe hesitation?

I follow his lead, making eye contact with him as i stick my tongue out, an unspoken begging.

He continues his harsh hold on my jaw, pulling it closer to spit forcefully onto my tongue like he hates me. Maybe he does.

I couldn’t care less, feeling the welcomed pressure build-up at the bottom of my stomach.

“You gonna cum? Huh? Gonna cum from my spitting in your fucking mouth, whore?”

I can’t string any words together even if I tried, feeling so pathetically helpless as he controls my whole body. All I can do is grip onto one of his forearms as I take him deep inside me and offer him a hazy nod. My other hand is limp and useless as I force it to rub circles onto my swollen clit.

“Hurry up and cum then you dirty bitch, you want the guards to walk in on us? is that what you want, fucking slut?”

Not a beat passes before i feel my gummy walls clenching around him, the sensation sending shakes throughout my whole body. Thankfully his grip on my throat and hair stood strong, restraining me from flopping down.

Disgusting sounds of our bodies slapping together and the collective wetness fills the room, forgetting everything that is happening beyond the door, we might as well be on another planet for all we could care.

His thrusts start to stammer, pushing me back with a shove to have my body flat onto the floor.

I hiss from the connection, my hand eagerly hunting for any stability while the other reaches up to grab at my own chest. He hunches over me, humping my body in a depraved urgency.

My body feels broken, and all i crave is the sweet crash of his release inside me as i writhe and moan.

“I’m so close come on, milk me.” I react with a whine through my overstimulation, my body basically a fleshlight as he pounds away at me.

“Inside me. Please inside me, Daddy please.” He huffs nasally as a response, pulling his T-shirt up to grip it between his teeth, letting my eyes fall to the soft muscles of his body, an involuntary moan sneaking out of me.

He throws his head back, his eyes shutting and the death grip on my body leaving bruises as I feel his release shoot inside me. I swear I could’ve finished again right there by the sight of his dishevelled and needy body over me.

We stay like that only for a second, the clarity of where we are forming recognition in our minds.

I avoid eye contact as he slips out of me, feeling him press a short kiss to the knee next to his head before slowly moving them off of him. His hands much softer as I wince from the straining of my legs.

Here we go again. Why do you do this shit? you know how it makes you feel after, so why do you do it? Every. Fucking. time.

You know he hates you, don’t go expecting the sweet treatment you got last time. You know you don’t deserve it.

“Can you pass me my clothes please?” My voice is so gentle it makes me internally cringe, My hands raising to cover my body as i pull my legs to my chest. Full fucking fetal position.

The shakes return to my body, both from the pleasure that just racked through it and the sudden realisation of what i’ve done.

“You okay, Angel?” He hums out, reaching out to wipe my hair from my face. His eyes soft and concerned, fingers as gentle as they were in the bathroom.

“I’m fine please just, just my clothes, please.” Eyes darting around the room and trying to find something to stimulate a single fucking thought, I cover my face with my knees, feeling his fingers drop from my face as he leans over to pick up the fabric.

“Here.” He whispers softly, ignoring my outstretched hand as he rolls up the top by the sleeves, motioning for me to lift my arms.

What a fucking baby.

Without the energy to argue, I push my arms through the holes, letting him drape the neck hole over my head and pull it down, the broken bra still hanging from my shoulders.

“Sorry about that honey, was I too harsh?” he whispers, his hand roaming around the back of my clothed body.

Look at him acting like he cares, god i’m so fucking useless.

“Do you even remember my name, Dae-ho?” I blurt out suddenly, shocking me entirely at the volume of it. His face scrunches into a confused frown, eyebrows bunching together.

“You keep using all these fucking names, calling me honey and angel, is it because you dont remember?” My hands work by themselves, pushing him away from me with a gentle shove. I grab the rest of my clothes and start to redress with haste, wanting nothing but to run out of the room.

I can’t bring myself to look at him, aware of how ugly my face probably looks right now with my red eyes and cracked lips.

Most importantly I just dont want him to look at me, I don’t want to be percieved, just let me wallow in the hollowness of my mind, the dizziness an insecurity that are swirling around inside it.

The deepest darkest parts of it that take over me and let me use myself like this over and over again until i’m numb to it.

“Of course i remember your name, Y/N.” He coos after a beat, making no movement to stand up as he reaches out his hand to me.

“Stop doing that.” I swat his hand away from me gently.

Such a bitch, you don’t even deserve this kindness, I would’ve thrown me away by now.

“Doing what?”

“Just acting like that, you don’t need to baby me every time we fuck, it’s okay.” I wipe my face off, looking at the door and hoping it would magically open.

“Come here.” He sighs out, hand reaching for me again, gently tugging on my green sleeve.

“No. Im good, honestly, im fine.” I barely spit out.

He grumbles to himself before tugging at me more forcefully, pulling me down to him with a swiftness so smooth I couldn’t even gether myself to resist before he pulled me sideways into his lap, one arm around my back and the other keeping me there by my legs.

I don’t move away, instead welcoming the warmth of his touch as i lay my head on his shoulder, my free arm wrapping around his neck as i snuggled in. Eyes heavy and my body broken.

“I’m just taking care of you. You just need a little extra aftercare baby honestly, theres nothing wrong with you.” His soft words hit my ear, feeling like they had come from an angel with their care. His hot breath pools on the side of my face before he kisses the gentlest whisper of a kiss to the back of my jaw, his large hand moving from my leg to brush away stray hairs.

He’s lying. He hates me.

“I didn’t say there was.”

“You were thinking it.”

“Stop acting like you know me.” I lift my head slightly to look at him, my face still annoyingly emotionless given the fight of my words, i just don’t have the energy.

“Ive spent my entire time here thinking about you.” He mumbles, his finger subtly pushing on the bottom of my jaw to keep me facing him, stopping me from hiding away again.

“Watching you.” He pauses, leaning down to kiss me with a featherlight touch.

“Wanting you.” He does it again, a small smile grazing his serious face when he hears my soft whimper in response.

“And you think I can't tell what you’re thinking about?”

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Taglist: @dyingswanpavlova

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