krispymusicflower

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door - XIII

A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader (feat John Wick!) fic based on this imagine. all chapters gen. warnings: NSFW, blood, biting, violence divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more pic is BRZRKR #11 cover 😍

⚠Trigger warning: UNBRIDLED AND GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, if that squicks you DO NOT READ!⚠

13. ride the lightning

How does one describe the chaos of sitting in the eye of a lightning storm?

Wick is as terrifying as he is breathtaking, and you watch with horror as he is unleashed upon the room. Vampires seem to materialize from the very shadows, sounding the alarm, trying to combat the lethal threat in their midst. All of them die as they come against the inexorable force that is the dhampir John Wick.

He tears them limb from limb, using teeth and hands and the very chains he'd been bound with, the manacles still encircling his wrists. He uses them like flails, whipping his opponents with all the force of a hurricane. 

All this practically happens in the blink of an eye. Don Juan barely has time to react before the maelstrom descends upon him. Wick hits him hard enough to knock him across the room, blood spouting like a fountain. There is no reprieve before the dhampir has pounced on him again, and the two powerful monsters tumble and brawl like mad dogs. It seems Juan has the upper hand until Wick coils from his back and kicks him away, sending the vampire soaring into the black depths of the cave.

The battle rages and the hive continues to swarm, Juan’s vampires foolishly daring to challenge the dhampir in the throes of this berzerker rage. One of them has Wick’s sword, and when Wick takes it from him the tables turn even more ridiculously in the slayer’s favor. He severs limbs and lops heads, leaving blood and gore in his wake. You think you see him extract a heart with his bare hand, gripping it in his fist before crushing it into a pulp. 

That is when don Juan appears again from the shadows, his face a bloody mask, with a broadsword in hand and the fires of Hell shining in his eyes. “Dhampir!” he seethes. “I will END you for this!” 

Wick bellows back wordlessly, the power of his rage filling the enclosed space with crackling energy. You watch wide-eyed as a good chunk of the cave ceiling breaks free above you, crashing at your feet. 

Jesus Christ. They’ll bring the whole place down around you all, you fear, even as you cannot look away from the impending battle. 

Maybe he gives the impression of the soft-handed gentleman of leisure, but it quickly becomes apparent that don Juan knows how to use a sword as he and Wick clash. Toledo steel meets Japanese Tamahagane, and sparks fly, blades flashing too fast for the eye to see. Juan is the only vampire yet who could actually match Wick for strength and speed, and you watch with dread as Wick barely dodges losing his head. In turn Juan keeps ahead of Wick’s every slash and thrust, moving with a speed and grace that is as mesmerizing as it is infuriating. 

You scream as the vampire breaks the steel of Wick’s sword in half with a mighty blow, and hits the dhampir with some kind of power that knocks him flat on his back. Juan makes a fist, and Wick writhes on the floor as though his guts are in Juan’s clawed hand. Straining against your chains, you gather what little psychic power is left to you, imagining it formed into a sharp needle as you fling it at Juan. 

It does not really damage him, but he pauses to look at you with a snarl–it’s the only window Wick needs to swipe with what remains of his razor sharp blade, right through don Juan’s legs at the knees. 

With a horrified expression Juan falls to the cave floor. Wick gets to his feet, picking Juan up by his throat with a fearsome snarl, and hurls him again towards the back of the cave. More vampires are appearing from the depths–holy fuck how many can there be?--and with a single, feral look back at you Wick picks up Juan’s broadsword, and charges back into the fray.    

The enraged dhampir disappears further into the shadows of the cave. The din of the battle echoes back to you–until the cacophony finally fades, and then, there is just eerie, heavy, silence.

Your heart lodges in your throat, and does not budge until you see the outline of Wick’s imposing form again at the edge of the torch light. His chains are gone. He is hurt, clearly limping. He makes his way to you, and only belatedly do you realize he is dragging don Juan by his one remaining limb. 

The vampire is unconscious, and Wick drops him unceremoniously before you like an offering, and the sword clatters to the floor soon after. You should be horrified, but it smacks of a hunter laying a kill at his woman’s feet in a time when man lived in caves, and you are not unmoved. But that blue light has not receded from his eyes, and he stalks towards you like a predator. 

I kill vampires. It’s what I am.

Could he kill you?

“John?”

He only grumbles in response, stalking towards you, and you are afraid.

“Jardani?”

“Don’t say it unless you mean it, ptichka,” he growls, his huge hands encircling your waist, pulling you against him. You are practically naked, and he is covered in blood from the massacre he just unleashed; that is not what frightens you. His eyes still glow that eerie blue, and you wonder if it is not like the warning glow of a fuse on a bomb. Maybe he’s injured, but you would be a fool to think him wrung out yet.  

“You’re scaring me,” you tell him honestly, and you feel him deflate against you, burying his face in the curve of your neck as his arms wrap around your torso, breathing you in. You feel it as that crackling energy recedes back inside him, leaving him as close to human as he can ever be. 

“I would never hurt you.” He whispers it with the vehemence of a vow against your skin, and you want to believe him. God, do you want to believe him. You fold yourself against him with your hands still bound above your head, letting him engulf you with his larger form. 

You don’t want to cry; it’s embarrassing, and you don’t have time for it, but after what don Juan did to you it comes out anyway in hiccupping sobs and he holds you like something precious in his hands that could just as easily tear you in two. You don’t understand the soft things he says to you, hushed murmurs in Russian or some long dead dialect of it, but they calm you anyway. That intoxicating aroma of flowers and spice envelops you again like an opium haze, and you melt into the shelter of this man.  

When at last you quiet he draws back to look at you with those ageless dark eyes, though he does not let you go. When he brushes his lips against yours in an achingly gentle kiss it feels as though nothing could be more right in the world. 

You are so fucked.

You look up at your wrists encircled in iron, jangling your chains. “Can you find the key for me?” you ask quietly, as if you speak too loud you might break this spell of precious calm between you.

The low sound that rumbles from his chest echoes straight to your womb. He runs blunt fingers up the underside of your arm lightly, a maddening touch that makes your good sense go fuzzy at the edges. “Jardani…”

His grip upon you tightens; he leans in to kiss you again, claiming your mouth as his weight presses you back into the wall. 

The warmth of his blood-slicked skin upon yours is bliss, though a trill of hesitance surfaces in the very back of your mind. As though he senses it he speaks. “I want to be a better man for you,” he tells you roughly, his voice hoarse from battle and desire. “But I would be a liar, if I claimed this is not exactly how I want you.” 

Where don Juan’s hands on you made you want to scream, Wick’s rough paw tracing your curves is maddening in a completely opposite way. It is hard to tell what is that intoxicating dhampir magic upon you, consuming you, and what is just…your own rampant desire. You forget that you are not lovers, that you have not done this before. Maybe you are in love with John Constantine, and he was inside you not hours ago…but it is so easy to forget everything, in Wick’s arms. Deep down, you know that you want him in a way that feels as though his name was always written upon your soul. 

He nuzzles the bend of your neck, grazing your pulse with his fangs. You know he must be hungry, after such an expenditure of energy and taking such damage. You fight a war with yourself, aching to feel his fangs in you again, but you're not sure he'll stop, once he starts, and you don't have much to spare. Logic wars with lust, the eternal battle of wits versus hormones.

Usually, the latter wins. 

“Jardani…” you coax, hoping sanity will prevail. “You have to set me free.”

He groans in response, kissing your pulse. “I don't have to,” he protests, and though there's a hint of his usual insouciance, mostly you're afraid he's absolutely serious. You open your mouth to protest again, but he swallows whatever you intended to say with his lips on yours, like a starving man who intends to eat you whole, starting with your mouth. 

You're not sure who escalates this already torrid exchange with a fang piercing your tongue–all you know is that what was already a bonfire escalates into a full on inferno. He eats at your mouth, lapping at your tongue as that agonizingly wonderful wave of desire fills your every cell. As you strain against your chains to be closer to him, to have more, he takes mercy on you with one of those muscle-strapped thighs between yours. You grind on him desperately, too far gone for anything resembling restraint, your pride totally forgotten. 

He migrates from your mouth to your neck, piercing your flesh and drinking you down, grabbing handfuls of your curves to hold you close. That scintillating, excruciating pleasure pulses and purrs inside you. It is him, but also, it is the two of you together, and when that magic reaches its shining peak in your loins you think you might implode for the exquisite rapture of it, release like a chain explosion sparking and spreading from your greedy cunt up your spine. Through the ringing in your ears it takes you a few moments to realize he is talking you through it, whispering low words in your ear that you do not understand, but you feel all too well. 

He kisses you again with your blood in his mouth, a slow and sensual thing that manages to curl your toes all over again, his tongue swiping the seam of your lips. “My pretty little bird,” he whispers. “The things I am going to do you, when we have time and a soft bed…” 

The sound you make in answer is barely human–but then, neither are you. 

When he produces the key you don’t know if you want to smack him, or laugh. He had it all along? Did he take it from Juan, or one of the other vampires? With a knowing little smile he reaches up to unlock your manacles, smirking down at you with a warmth in his eyes that could start a forest fire. 

If you had any sense left to your name, you would be furious for this little bit of trickery. However, that is not what you need. When you throw your arms around his neck he embraces you hard, enveloping you in those strong arms and lifting you off your feet. You feel your heart glowing like a hot ember in your chest, and you have no fucking idea how all this is going to work out in the end, but at the moment it doesn’t matter. 

A flash of an image surfaces in your mind: tangled under warm blankets with this man’s powerful body curled around yours while the winter winds and the hungry wolves howl outside, and you are unfalteringly certain that nothing bad can ever touch you again. 

You feel that way now, pulling back to look at him, searching his handsome, blood-flecked face. You say nothing, and neither does he, but you know he senses some shift in you. Whether in the widening of your eyes, or the hitch of your breath–but he makes no life-altering demands. All he asks of you, is for another toe-curling kiss with the tilt of his head. His soft lips on yours feel like a promise, and for the umteenth time this night you think to yourself: you are so fucked. 

“We have to go find Constantine,” you say as you pull away from him. “I know he’s in danger.” You feel it tugging on you at the distant end of your metaphysical cord. Trepidation. Fear. Resolve. You’re not sure if taking you from him was meant as a trap, or a distraction, but it can’t be good. 

“You’re too late.” The thing at your feet that only vaguely now resembles don Juan grins a bloody grin. “They have the psychic, that woman detective, and they’re doing the ritual tonight. Mamon will rise, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

“Where?” demands Wick with a growl that raises the hair on the back of your neck. 

Don Juan, however, just spits blood at the dhampir’s feet. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“You can heal this eventually,” says Wick with a dismissive wave at the vampire’s missing limbs. “Tell me, or I will take your head too.”

“You won’t leave me alive,” scoffs Juan. “I was not born yesterday.”

“My word.” 

“As a gentleman?” The laughter that grates from Juan’s lips is bitter as the betrayal of a friend. He is not biting–and you are running out of time.  

Wick casts a look at you before returning to the vampire. “As a husband,” he answers. “It is the only vow that I ever held truly sacred.”

“John Wick, murderer and romantic…how sweet,” taunts Juan, rolling his eyes. Even in this state, he cannot be anything but that what he truly is: an asshole of the purest grade. 

 “Tell me,” says Wick darkly, brandishing a knife produced from somewhere. “Or I will keep you like this for centuries more. I will take pieces from you until you are nothing but the talking head you are, but you won’t die. Trust me, I know.” 

Juan just glares, until Wick begins advancing on him with the knife, seemingly going for an ear. “Fine!” shouts the vampire, desperately leaning away just before the blade touches his skin. “Fine, fine, hijo de puta.” Lower, under his breath he continues to grumble, “Chinga su madre, pinche pendejo...”

“You were saying?” 

Mad as a rattlesnake, but realizing he has no other alternative, Juan spills the beans. 

—-----------

*hijo de puta - son of a bitch *chinga su madre - fuck your mother *pinche pendejo - fucking bastard *🤣🤣 i’m so sorry…

[achilles-rage]

thirteen crows: chapter eight

summary: you wake up in eddie’s house and they show you who you belong to.

word count: 2.9k

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a/n: the last chapter!!! and happy halloween!! seeing as my last series took 3 months, this one felt like it flew by, and i’m gonna miss it :// also, i got really into this chapter lowkey and it literally had my face hot as i was writing and idk why. anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: smut, mentions of violence (nothing graphic), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ Only!

Your vision is still black when you feel the pain throughout your body coming back to you, and you let out a low groan. Your elbow is throbbing from hitting the ground, as well as one of your knees, and you’re sure your neck is already bruising from Buck’s hands wrapped around your throat.

As you slowly come back to your senses, you can feel that you’re in a chair with your wrists tied tightly behind your back, and you’re now only wearing a bra and panties. You don’t know how long you’ve been out, or where you are, and either way, you’re far too afraid of the voices you once thought of as your solace speaking across the room.

Being tied and blindfolded isn’t what brings your fear back, though, it’s the sound of the voices not far from where you are, one clearly angry, and the other anxious.

“How could you be so fucking stupid? Leaving your mask lying around!” You’re sure it’s Eddie who’s speaking, and you let out a quiet, ragged breath as you listen to them. You’re still barely able to believe that your sweet regulars could do this to you. They seemed so nice. So normal.

“It was in my closet! I forgot! She-” Buck begins to argue, but the loud groan you let out as a pain runs up your spine causes them both to turn to you. Must be from the fall, you think. Your breath catches in your throat as nothing but silence fills your ears, and your hands start to shake as you hear footsteps coming towards you.

Buck turns to you with a smirk on his face, excited to continue with their game, while Eddie is more wary. He’s still reeling from everything that’s just been dumped on him, and he can’t believe that Buck would do something so idiotic. He’s just lucky that Eddie is able to come up with plans so quickly.

Deep down, he’s happy he can finally have you, but he knows that doing this so sporadically increases their risk of being caught.

You blink a few times as the blindfold is ripped from your eyes, trying to focus your gaze as you’re met with bright lights and the dark black eyes of two masks.

They’ve brought you to Eddie’s house; it’s a lot less likely for anyone to hear you scream than at Buck’s apartment. You’re not sure how they managed to get you here without anyone seeing you, and you’re not sure you want to know either.

“There’s our sweet girl. You feeling alright, sweetheart?” Eddie speaks in a feigned soft voice. He’s not necessarily mad at you, so he doesn’t want to take it out on you completely, but even so, there’s a hint of gruffness in his voice.

Your lip quivers as you look up at him, the glint from the knives they’re both holding distracting you from the fact that they’re still wearing those masks, but only for a moment.

“My wrists hurt. Can you loosen the restraints?” you ask, trying to keep your voice soft and sweet. They were nice to you at one point, so you pray that if you’re nice enough to them, they might show you some mercy. Buck chuckles softly, and he’s about to lunge at you before Eddie stops him with a firm hand on his chest.

You yelp softly at Buck’s movement, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“Nice try. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you tried to run from me. Twice.” Buck seethes, and you finally let a few tears fall. You lower your head, which makes Eddie smile. Such a submissive little thing now. Just like he’d known you’d be.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just scared. You caught me off guard.” you tell him in a shaky voice, looking up at him with the best puppy dog eyes you can muster.

You remember how desperate Buck was when he was kissing you, so you hope that you can get him back to that rather than the man standing in front of you. You’re sure if Eddie wasn’t here, the knife in Buck’s hand would already be firmly in your chest.

“You tried to run. You’ll learn soon enough that you can’t do that, yeah? You can never get away from us.” Eddie says calmly, and it makes your blood run cold. Eddie’s stoic voice is somehow scarier than Buck’s clearly enraged demeanour.

At least Buck is showing his anger. You have no idea what Eddie is thinking or how you could possibly talk yourself out of this with him.

“You killed all those people.” you tell them, your shoulders relaxing as you look up at them with a pleading expression. You can’t see the way their eyes travel down to your bra-covered tits and your soft tummy, and the way they focus on your exposed thighs, but even so, you shiver.

You’re terrified of what they could do, but you can’t help the way your cheeks heat up at their attention. The way they’re looking at you with their heads tilted to the side makes you feel things you know you shouldn’t, and you can’t help but think about their mouths on you in your apartment.

“They deserved it. They were abusers, and rapists, and racists. They deserved every single slice they got.” Eddie speaks in a low voice, and for a moment, his voice seems desperate. He wants you to see their side of this, but it’s difficult right now.

“You killed Grace. And Isaac.” you counter, chewing on your lip as you think about them.

Grace was hard enough for you to cope with, but they made you watch Isaac die, and that’s not something you’re sure you’ll ever forget.

“You’re really gonna keep pretending you give a shit about Grace? She disrespected you. She disrespected us.” Buck says angrily, his jaw clenched as he lets a hard breath out through his nose. Your brows furrow in confusion.

“When did she disrespect you?” you ask, trying to ignore the way your heart flutters at their protectiveness over you. They may be literal killers, but they were once your sweet regulars, and you hate that you love the idea of them caring so much about you.

“She disrespected what was ours. Disrespected our taste; as if we’d ever want someone like her.” Eddie rasps, and you’re not sure what to say about this. You had thought the same as her, after all; you weren’t sure why they chose you and not her. You wouldn’t dare tell them that, though.

“And as for Isaac, he was getting too close. He tried to take you from us.” Buck explains, licking his lips as he thinks about the fear in Isaac’s eyes when they killed him. How you let him hold you so close while Eddie killed Isaac.

“He didn’t. He was being nice.” you try to argue, your voice getting slightly louder as you sit up straighter. They both scoff, grips tightening on their knives.

“He wanted you for himself.” Eddie is getting angrier, you can tell by his tone. If you thought Buck was frightening, you’re sure Eddie would be much scarier if you could see his face beneath his mask right now.

“He was trying to help me feel better. Safer.” you say in a soft voice, ducking your head in fear.

“Yeah, trying to make you feel better by putting his disgusting hands on you, by corrupting our sweet girl. That’s our job.” Buck says, his body suddenly tensing. Your shoulders raise at his outburst, and you keep your eyes focused on the ground in front of you.

“Would you have let him touch you, sweetheart? Would you have let him kiss you, touch you, fuck you?” Eddie asks, and when you look up at him, his head is tilted slightly. He studies your every move, trying to decipher if you’ll lie to them or not.

You shake your head, whimpering soft no’s, and Eddie chuckles.

“Exactly, because you’re ours to take care of, isn’t that right? Don’t pretend that you didn’t like when we ate your pretty little pussy.” Buck says before Eddie can respond.

Eddie’s eyes dart to Buck for a split second before he looks back at your sheepish expression, and he knows immediately that they’ve got you right where they want you.

“Admit it, sweet girl.” Eddie urges, and you swallow before you speak.

“I liked it.” You can’t lie to them, especially not when they made you feel so good. You know that the fear should be eating you from the inside out right now, but you can also feel the familiar feeling of arousal in your belly as they stare you down.

“Good girl. See? You’re all ours to care for.” Buck purrs, his anger slowly melting away. You begin to calm down as Buck does, and you’re glad that the remnants of the sweet man you know are back, sort of.

“So, you’re not gonna hurt me?” you ask, sniffling softly as they step closer to you. They’re now towering over you, masks tilted at the same angle while they stare you down in your pretty cotton panties and black bra.

“Hurt you? Why would we hurt you?” Eddie asks in a slightly condescending tone, watching as Buck leans down just enough to drag his knife across your chest.

“Sweet girl, we don’t want to hurt you, we want to keep you.” Buck adds on, then uses the knife to tear the side of your panties. You shiver as the sound of ripping of fabric hits your ears, and your eyes widen slightly, hating how turned on you are.

“We’ll only mark up this pretty skin and paint it red if you disobey us, and you’re not gonna do that, are you, sweet girl?” Eddie asks, tearing the other side of your panties with his knife. Your thighs quiver as the fabric falls slightly, and a small gasp escapes your lips when Buck rips the fabric from your body completely.

“No, I won’t. I won’t, I promise.” you reply in a quivering voice, shaking your head fervently. You can’t tell if you’re more turned on or afraid right now, but you can feel the pool between your legs, and embarrassment fills your body.

Buck and Eddie smirk at each other at your quick response, although they can’t see each other’s faces, and then they both place the blades of their knives on your inner thighs. They force you to spread your legs for them, and they both smirk wider when they see the mess between your legs, although all you can see is the big, void holes of their masks.

“You’re dripping, baby. You must love the idea of being all ours.” Buck purrs, eyes on your glistening folds.

Eddie watches Buck as he kneels down and begins to press hot kisses to your inner thighs, getting dangerously close to your core as he pushes the mask up his face just enough to expose his mouth.

“Since you’ve been so good at controlling your anger, I’m gonna let you pick. You want her pussy, or her sweet little mouth?” Eddie asks Buck, and you feel yourself getting impossibly more turned on at the fact that he’s ignoring your say in the matter completely.

Buck thinks for a moment, unable to decide which he’d rather, but when he looks back down at your desperate cunt, he answers quickly.

“Need this pussy.” Buck murmurs, resisting the urge to bury his face between your thighs. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head at how hard of a time Buck has hiding his feelings.

Eddie wants to fuck you just as bad right now, but he wants your mouth almost as bad, and he knows by how wet you are that he’ll definitely get his chance. You’re theirs now.

Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and cuts your wrists loose while Buck pulls his mask back down, and then Buck is quick to pull you up, not giving you a chance to rub your wrists in a desperate attempt to soothe them.

Buck lifts you with ease, mostly so you don’t run again, and also because he so. fucking. desperate. His hands grip the back of your thighs tightly as he brings you to Eddie’s room, and he groans when he throws you onto the bed and you squeal softly.

They don’t give you a chance to speak, or breathe, before Eddie walks around Buck’s frame and flips you onto your stomach. His hands are on your hips as he urges you to lift your hips, making you arch your back and show them your dripping cunt once again.

Buck is already palming himself through his jeans as he takes in the sight of your ass in the air, waiting like the good girl that you are for their cocks. Your cheek is pressed against the sheets as you wait patiently for them to touch you, and when you feel a hand move up your thigh to your ass, then smack you harshly, you bite back a whimper.

A moan escapes your throat a second later when you feel the tip of Buck’s cock teasing your entrance, gathering up your arousal before he uses it to push all the way into you in one swift motion.

You’re not even used to the sheer size of him when Eddie moves to kneel in front of you on the bed, mask covering his face and clothes still covering his body, except for his hard, leaking cock that’s been pulled out of his pants.

He grabs your hair and roughly tugs you up onto your hands before he pushes his cock past your lips and into your mouth. You gag around him as he starts to move with force, mouth watering moans escaping his lips as he fucks your mouth.

“Yeah, you like that, sweet girl? I can feel you clenching around me.” Buck purrs, and you whimper around Eddie’s cock, unable to nod or speak.

Eddie chuckles darkly, picking up his pace to match Buck’s desperate thrusts to your cunt. Buck groans at the sight of you filled by both of them at once, and as much as he loves the sight, he fights hard to resist the urge to pull you back against him by your hair and fuck you harder.

You try your hardest to pay attention to Eddie as Buck abuses your cunt, trying to use your tongue and hollow your cheeks as he fucks your throat, but it’s difficult.

Buck is so deep inside of you, and you can already tell that you’re going to feel him for days after he’s done with you.

You can feel Eddie twitching as you look up at him, tears streaming down your face as you struggle to breath around his cock, but he doesn’t let up. He’s set on cumming down your throat, and no amount of tears will deter him.

You can feel yourself getting closer too, and you hate how good it feels to be used by both of them at once. Buck reaches one hand around to rub your clit in quick circles, making you whimper loudly around Eddie’s cock.

After a few more harsh thrusts, you cum with a loud moan, and Buck is teetering on the edge. When Eddie sees that you’ve been taken care of, he pulls his cock from your mouth and pulls you forward on the bed.

Your face brushes against the sheets again, and you feel yourself clench around nothing as Buck’s cock is pulled from your cunt. You can’t even speak when Eddie flips you around again, this time onto your back. You watch as he moves to stand beside Buck at the edge of the bed, then let him pull you off the bed and onto your knees in front of them.

They both want to breed you so bad; fuck their cum into you until you’re swollen with the constant reminder of who you belong to, but it’s too soon to think about that. Maybe when you’re properly trained for them, they’ll reward you by filling your pussy to the brim.

“Open your pretty little mouth, baby. You’re gonna take all of it, sweet girl, yeah?” Eddie purrs, and you nod quickly, eyes darting between both men as they start to fist their cocks eagerly.

You open your mouth as you wait, thighs squeezing together as you watch with hungry eyes.

Finally, finally, they both let go, coating your face and chest with their cum, and you try desperately to catch as much of it in your mouth as you can.

You swallow eagerly, eyes darting between them as you do, and when you stick out your tongue to show them that you’ve taken it all, they both smirk beneath the masks.

“There we go. Good girl; letting us fill your belly with our cum. And if you try to run again, we’ll gut you. Take it all away from you. You got that, sweet girl?” Eddie asks in a condescending tone.

In your post-orgasm daze, all you can do is nod, mumbling a soft “yes, promise I won’t.”

“Good girl. See? We’ll take care of you, sweet girl. You’re all. ours.” Buck rasps, and you nod again, biting your lip as you savour the taste of them on your tongue.

Their pretty girl. They know they’ve almost completely broken you already; ruined you for anyone else. Pretty soon, they won’t even need the knives. It won’t take them long to have you completely subservient to them, and then, they’ll reward you with their cum; fucked deep into your womb.

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[trashogram]

has no one seriously asked for lucifer with praise kink yet? I feel like the fandom has collectively decided that he’s so sweet to you and worships you in bed 😫

Kinktober Day Twenty-Five — Praise Kink

Warnings: F!Reader, Standing Sex, Soft Lucifer

Lucifer hadn’t be able to wait; as soon as he had you by the wrists and out of the shallows of the pool, he was hauling you into his arms.

With his back pressed to the tiled wall for stability, the blond had you clinging onto him, attached at the mouth. His thin lips moved over yours, tongue licking in and sweeping over your teeth and the soft confines of your mouth. You whimpered as his claws scratched over your shoulders in figure-eights, lowering the straps of your swimsuit until your top had fallen to your waist and your breasts were pressed against the smooth marble of his chest.

You breathed harshly through your nose, craving more of him as you mimicked his movements. Your hands grabbed around his neck, knotting the hair at the base of his skull to tug him forward until the kisses became reckless, full of teeth and ignorant of lungs screaming for air.

Lucifer pulled one of your legs up, around his hip as he shoved his swim trunks down. You balanced with the help of his shoulders as he did the same for the lower half of your suit.

“You’re so good, honey.” He panted, hand spread over your slightly damp mound, feeling. “So quick and smart. I don’t even need to guide you.”

You whimpered as his fingers dipped in, filled the creases between your thighs and labia. Two of his fingers soothed over your clit, loving as they moved across the tender skin. Tender and slick, thick, slippery as your lover lavished you.

“Fuck, you’re wet.” He took a shuddering breath, swallowing hard. “For me? Are you excited for me?”

You nodded, expression crumpled as if you were enduring the most exquisite pain.

“Yeah?” He voiced your want with a thin, reedy whine. “Tell me, sweetie.”

Your ribs judder in your chest, heart racing. "I'm excited for you, Luci. I'm - I'm excited to... to..."

He'd moved to lapping at your jawline, drifting down to your pulse point as if he'd read your mind and brief fixation on your own hummingbird heart. The suction, wet and teasing, threatened to bring you to your knees.

You mewled, uttering something that you yourself couldn't even parse. Lucifer eased your legs apart in the meantime by digging his claws into the meat of your ass, spreading you from behind to make way for the heated girth of his cock. He rocked it between your lips, covering himself and lightly cuffing your puffy slit.

"Ah!" You yelped, jumping in your spot. "I-I! I'm excited to feel you inside, fill me up! I want you so deep."

Lucifer groaned. He slapped your pussy again before adjusting your leg once more, and pushing into you. Your little hole throbbed as it made way for the intrusion, swallowing every thrust as the rest of you seized.

"Yes - " He kept you split on his dick, fucking into you deeper with each push and pull of his narrow hips. "Anything you want, honey. F-f-fuck! Anything for you and your sweet pussy, honey. Anything!"

You cried into his shoulder once his lips had left you. The Devil pressed your head into his sternum, let your tears fall into the space between his clavicle. "More! Please, more. More, more, more!"

Lucifer pushed forward on his tiptoes, pounding into you now. "Pretty girl, sweet girl letting me inside. Letting me fuck you like this, giving me what I want - nnngh - without m-me even asking-g, shit - !"

His words slurred and fell off like parts of glacier, cascading into water and sending waves instead of ripples. Your eyes screwed shut as you felt the tether inside of you threatening to snap. You anchored yourself to the King, trying not to slip on the wet tiles while he pummeled your cunt, doubling his efforts as adrenaline spiked. The tether splintered, split, cracked by the pressure that turned your cries into a scream.

Lucifer's cock pulsed, unloading inside of you as he suppressed a bellow of his own. It died slowly, tapering into quick inhales and reedy moans until he could give you no more. His murmuring never ceased.

"Good girl. Sweet angel. Pretty baby." He kissed your shoulder and down your arm as it was lifted, easy to maneuver as you remained boneless. "You did wonderfully, sweetie."

[fairy-angel222]

“𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍’ 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 !”

—how the jjk men punish you

ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, nanami, sukuna

cw: smut, overstimulation, choking, recording, degradation, praise, spanking, edging, toy use, mommy kink, daddy kink, squirting, crying, double penetration

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 ✮

Gojo’s a pleasure giver. But he can’t help it if pleasure turns to pain. So when you make him real mad, what else to do but to fuck you till you’re crying. Shaking, begging him to give you a break. Pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your aching cunt with no remorse.

“P-pleasee Sat-oruuu, ‘m sorry-yy.” you cried with a hiccup. “I can’t t-take it. ‘M close again and i-it hurts.”

“It’s all your fault baby. Couldn’t just be a good girl f’ me now could you?” Landing a harsh slap to your overly sensitive clit making you mewl loudly.

You were a mess. Your cheeks stained black from the running of your mascara. The sides of your swollen red lips filled with drool at your constant cries.

A choked scream escaped your lips when Gojo reached down to rub your clit. Your hands flying to his wrist in an attempt to pull his hand away. “Toruuu— uh uh, ‘s too s-sensitive,” you sobbed. Your boyfriend scowling as his other hand wrapped tightly around your throat.

“Unless you want your punishment to be worse, you better behave.” he growled out into your ear. You whimpered as you let go of him, the pace of his thrusts speeding up along with the movement of his fingers. “There we go, good girl.” he cooed.

The coil in your stomach was painfully ready to snap. Your eyes rolling back for what felt like the millionth time and your sobs becoming one with your moans as your body shook. Your pussy clenched down hard on his cock as you squirted, Gojo’s hand rubbing messily at the wetness between your folds.

Gojo laughed darkly, “Seven outa seven times you’ve squirted huh, three more to go and i’m at a new high score.” Lifting you onto your hands and knees despite your tear filled whines of ‘no more.’

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 ✮

Geto’s pretty mean sometimes. When he gets mad he loves to humiliate you. Fucking your throat with a camera in your face, calling you the most degrading names. Then making you watch it when you’re done and threatening to make it public if you ever disobey him again.

“Say hi to the camera slut. Tell them how much of a stupid fucking girl you’ve been,”

You only whine in response, your eyes welling with tears as Geto pushed your head further down on his cock. A loud gag sounding from your throat as your nose pressed against his pubic region, your nails digging into his thighs as you ran out of oxygen.

You let out a gasp for air when Geto roughly pulls your face back up, the camera zoomed into your spit coated chin, your flushed cheeks, and your glassy eyes. His palm landing on your cheek in a hard slap with the sinister tilt of his head. “ Ready to tell them why you’re here like this?”

You hiccuped, biting your lip at the sting flowing through your face. “‘M a bad girl who doesn’t obey instructions.” you whimpered, looking up through wet lashes as Geto smirked down at you. “And ‘s my fault ‘m getting punished.”

“Good girl.” Going back to fucking into your parted lips, his tip hitting the back of your throat as he brought himself to release. Pulling you off of him and spilling his cum all over your face. “Now smile for the camera.”

And you did as told, giving the camera a small smile as the thick white substance dripped onto your exposed chest.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 ✮

Spanks you till your ass is red. Making you count each one and starting again every time you pulled away or reached back to grab his wrists.

“Fort-yy,” you cried, your ass sore as your boyfriend soothed his hands into your flesh. A smile on his face as he nodded in approval. “You did well.”

Then to “reward” you he’s stuffing his cock into you, fucking you sweet and slow till you’re moaning his name. Your head falling back at the feeling of his fingers on your clit.

He fucks you just how he knew you liked it. Until your moans were getting louder and your legs started to tremble. “Ahh— Kentoo, ‘m close,”

Only to smirk down at you when he kissed down your neck, stilling his movements and pulling out of you as you clenched round nothing.

“Sorry sweetheart, bad girls don’t get forgiven that easily.” Walking away from you and leaving you whining with need. Your poor cunt in desperate need of a release.

Nanami’s expression doesn’t change when you beg him to finish the job. Sitting down and sipping his coffee as you attempted to rut your clit against his thigh. “K-kentoo please.”

“If you make yourself cum you get forty more.” he warned, watching as you whimpered pleadingly up at him. Your lips forming into a pout when he ignored you “You’re s-so mean.”

“Should’ve thought about that before you disobeyed me.”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 ✮

Toji’s even meaner side comes out when he’s angry, and he loves making you cum till you pass out. But not with his cock.

He leaves you tied to his bed, a gag in your mouth and your hands and legs bound to each corner of its frame. A vibrator strapped to your sensitive clit with a smaller one in you against your g spot.

“W-wait daddy don’t go— pl-ease don’t leave me like this.” you cried, the older man only smiling before gagging you again, waving goodbye before exiting the house.

The toys pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your poor body, your chin covered in your spit and tears. You couldn’t even feel your legs as they trembled, muffled screams falling past your lips as your pussy gushed onto the bed, again.

Your body spasmed, eyes shut tight as you attempted to pull your hips away from the vibrations on your clit. A defeated sob sounding in your throat when you were stopped by your restraints.

At least two hours went by, and your entire body was numb, your eyes struggling to stay open and your breathing heavy as you continued to swallow your tears.

When Toji gets home you’re already gone, the sheets underneath you soaked as you lay limp in the position he left you. Your legs still quivering with your wetness flowing uncontrollably out of your red, swollen cunt.

Toji smirked to himself, that should have taught you a lesson.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 ✮

When you make Sukuna mad, he stuffs you full past your limit. “Kuna— don’t think it can fit. ‘S too much.”

“You better fucking take it. Since you wanna be so bad, i’ll make it fit.” Bullying both his cocks into your tight cunt, stretching you wide as he bottomed out in you.

You sobbed loudly, nails digging into his arms as you adjusted around his thick girth. Your head fuzzy and your tears not stopping as he chuckled darkly into your ear. “There you go.”

His hand reaching to wrap around your neck as he forced you to take him deep, your lips parted in silent choked mewls at the fullness. You’re letting out loud cries when he started bouncing you on him, his grin never falling as he thrusted up. Groaning deeply at how hard you tightened down on him.

When you get used to the sting you’re a moaning mess, your head thrown back as you filled the room with your noise. Legs trembling as Sukuna’s cocks both rubbed against your gummy walls.

“F-fuckkk— Kuna ‘m close.”

Sukuna scoffed. “This is a punishment, ya really think i’d let you cum?” he laughed loudly, eyes darkening as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Think again.”

Speeding up his pace until you were screaming, the coil in your stomach painfully ready to snap as you let your tears fall. “Pl-ease Kunaa. Needa cumm.”

“Yeah? Does my girl wanna cum that bad?” watching as you nodded with a whimper, pressing a hot kiss behind your ear. “Want me to let you cum?”

“Y-es— please.”

“Aww, well that’s too bad, if you cum you’ll never feel any of my cocks in you again.” he warned. A broken whine escaping your throat as your toes curled. You definitely wouldn’t last.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ✮

Choso is nine out of ten the one under you. But sometimes you make him really mad. And he punishes you the way he knows best.

His fingers on your clit as he lapped up your wetness, his face drenched in your slick and his eyes hazy at your taste. Your hands tied to the headboard above you as you tried to close your legs.

Choso whined into you. “Behave mommy— you always make me take my punishments, time for you to take yours.” His muffled voice against your flesh sending vibrations through your clit.

“Ch-oso— baby, you know am sorry, that’s enough.” you cried, your legs shaking as he sucked on your sensitive clit. “Choso,” you whimpered, “please baby- mommy can’t take it.”

He smiled widely, “That’s the point.” His hands hooking even tighter around your thighs. “Plus,” he groaned, “You taste sooo good.” Curling his tongue into your hole as you clenched down with a mewl.

“Gonna cum again mommy? Cum all over my face? Your pussy’s so sloppy.” he moaned, messily fucking you into you with his tongue. Your cries loud as you screamed his name incoherently.

Moaning as your sweet pussy gushed into his mouth, swallowing it down with a satisfied moan as he felt himself cum in his sweats. Again.

“‘M almost done mommy— promise.” he chuckled.

[sugume]

AITA FOR WHAT!? w/Jujutsu Kaisen

( TW ) f!reader, dark + explicit content, dubcon/noncon, blowjob, fingering, cheating, Suguru’s part will make more sense if you read Gojo’s, unrealistic anal, sex toys, coercion, spanking.

Featuring: Toji Fushiguro, Geto Suguru, Ryomen Sukuna (yes, again) 

an: part two (more like 1.5) because my other one got so much love and I wanted to write all my babies <3  This one is a LOT darker than the first one bc I love testing my limits. 

PART 1 

r/forcinghertosuckme posted by u/Toji_Fushiguro 

“W-what?” You stare at the man. “Suck me off right now or 'm going to throw you off the side of the mountain.” “Please--” “I’m not going to say it again girl, and I’m not swayed by begging.” He stares down at your shaking figure. You look at him and then behind you at the drop. You can’t even see the bottom. You wouldn’t survive that. You shake even harder. You have no choice you think as you drop down to your knees, you're so close to the edge that your feet dangle off the edge. “Pull it out, little girl.” The big man with dark hair who dragged you to the forest grunts out. Your hands are shaking as you unbuckle his pants and pull his pants down enough for his cock to jump out. You cry when you see the size of it, how are you going to suck something that huge. The tears you were holding in started to fall. “Enough with the tear's girl, they only make me harder—now put my cock into that pouty mouth, you don’t want me to put it in for you.”  You grab the base of his cock. Your hand doesn’t fully wrap around it. You bring your other hand up to fully cover his shaft. You start to move your hands up and down his shaft as you cry. “Use your fuckin’ mouth, feels like ‘m rubbing sandpaper on my dick with those dry hands. Get my cock wet.” He rolls his eyes, griping your chin with one hand, the other grabbing the back of your head. He pulls your mouth to his cock. “That’s it—no teeth or I'll shove you off the cliff with a mouth full of cum.”  Toji thrusts into your mouth, you take your hands off his shaft and hold onto his pants. He’s thrusting so hard you feel the rocks underneath you start to break off. You cry harder as you choke on his cock, trying to ignore the tingles in your pussy and the ache in your breast. 

r/fuckingmyfriendsgirl posted by u/Geto_Suguru 

You wake up to the feeling of fingers circling your clit. You smile and lean into your boyfriend's big chest. “Mm--Satoru,” You squirm when you feel light kisses on your shoulder. You lift your leg to his hip. He rubs your entrance before slipping two fingers into your wet cunt. You moan, his fingers feel thicker than normal, not as long. You chalk it up to your sleepy mind. “Want a kiss Toru,” You grind your ass into his cock as he finger fucks you. “Gimme a kiss baby.” You turn your head with puckered lips and freeze. Suguru grins from behind you. You gasp and try to pull away. He grabs your neck with his free hand, trapping you. “Stop! What are you doing Sugu, where's Toru?” You scream, twisting your head when he tries to kiss you. “No!” “Oh, don’t be like this y/n, don't act like you don’t cum on my cock every time Satoru is away on a trip.” The fingers on your jaw tighten and he bites your bottom lip. You struggle before you eventually give in. Satoru grins into the kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You taste blood. “W-where’s Satoru?” You cry. “Out, went to go get you treats because you said you didn’t feel good.” He whispers into your mouth. Your heart clenches. He wanted to make you happy and you're here cumming on his best friend's fingers. “Stop Sugu, t-this isn’t right.” You moan when the hand inside you curls up into your G-spot. “Then maybe he shouldn’t have made us fuck that one time, it was like he was asking for this to happen.” 

r/slippingitinherass posted by u/Ryomen_Sukuna

“Look at this fucking ass,” Sukuna smirks as he watches you slam your hips down his cock. He smiles and twists the anal plug he coerced you to wear this morning. You whine. “Love this ass s’much.” He slaps your raw ass. You scream and grip the pillow. You wouldn't be surprised if after this is done your ass the busied and bloody. “I wanna fuck this ass,” he pulls the anal plug out of your ass “I am gonna fuck this ass.” He pulls his cock out of your pussy. You clench around nothing. “N-not today ‘Kuna. Put it back in my pussy.” You whine grinding back on his dick. He leans to grab you by the neck. “No, we're gonna do what I want, and I want to fuck your ass.” “But--” “No little one, you’re here to satisfy my needs now stay still or it’s going hurt.” He pushes your head into the pillow. You whine. “Good girl.” He straightens back up before grabbing his soaked cock and bringing the tip to your puckered ass. “W-what about lube ‘Ryo?” You swallow, tensing up when he starts to shove his cock in. “Gave you a chance to wear a bigger plug this morin’ but you wanted to be a crybaby ‘bout it. This is punishment.” He answers as he shoves another inch into you. You cry out into the pillow. “Now next time I tell you to do something you’ll know I'm doing it for your own good.”   

[disastersareajoy]

Pussy Drunk Thomas Hewitt - Drabble

Thomas Hewitt x FEM!Reader

Tags: established relationship, cunnilingus, forced orgasms, talk of bruises, wet and messy, squirting, dacryphilia, overstimulation

Word count: 1.1k

fucking obsessed with the idea of Thomas getting absolutely, down bad, pussy-drunk as soon as he gets a taste

like his virgin-ass being too afraid of hurting you to fuck you at first and getting on his knees for you. he gets a taste, kind of pulls back and licks his lips and you can see his pupils dilate and his eyes fucking glaze over and he just falls face first into your pussy

sloppy, wet, spit slick, hungry oral from that man. his teeth bump into you in all the right ways sometimes. one moment he's whimpering into you and the next he's grumbling and trying to get his tongue deeper and deeper into you to taste more

and it does not matter to him when you beg for him to slow down and how you can't cum anymore. because you keep dripping on his face and tongue and making wonderful noises and you just taste so fucking good, how could he stop??

his arms wrap around your thighs and he holds onto them hard and firm and keeps you pulled close to his face. you can feel that it's gonna bruise and you're going to cherish those bruises for days

he doesn't even notice how hard he's gripping you because he's trying to get all of his senses filled with you. he tastes, smells and feels nothing but you. the only thing his ears can focus on are your moans and whimpers. his hands massage your thighs periodically and when he opens his eyes it's just to look at your face, thrown back in pleasure. the only thing better is when you're looking down at him with tears in your eyes, still moaning for him

Tommy is completely drunk off your taste. he loves the feeling of your pussy on his tongue and he loves the little whining groan you let out when he sucks on your clit

now, when he keeps going and going and your hand in his hair trying to push him away finally falls to your side, he doesn't even realize what he's doing next. it's all out of instinct when his hands readjust so his arms stay wrapped around your thighs but his thumbs are spreading open your folds. that's when he really loses it

because he can get his tongue even deeper like that. he can bury it inside you and find the spot that makes you drip a little more and that makes you moan all broken and needy. once he finds it he abuses the fuck out of it. keeps licking over it, poking at it with his tongue and savoring every drop of you that spills into his mouth

and then. his holy grail. you grab his hair again and moan louder. you're sobbing and begging him to slow down because it feels different this time. he doesn't listen of course. all he knows is you're about to do that thing again where he can feel your pussy flutter and twitch and your thighs squeeze around him and your moans get all whimpery

he keeps going until your hips lift up into him. he stays attached to your pussy and keeps doing what he's doing, knowing he can't stop. needs to keep going to get you to do that thing

suddenly you gasp and go completely quiet. then you moan so loud it's almost a scream. a sobbing sort of thing that's absolutely gorgeous to him. on top of that your hips start wildly shaking along with your legs and your pleasure starts gushing out of you

Tommy moans into your juices and gets closer if that's even possible at that point. he shakes his head so he rubs over your clit side to side while he keeps his tongue abusing that spot inside you. and fuck does he get drenched. he swallows down as much as he can of you and whimpers into it. anything he can't get, drips down his face and drenches his shirt and lap

once you come down you realize he's still going and you can't handle it anymore. you start crying more and weakly kicking your legs out which finally makes Tommy look up. he sees your devastated face and while he thinks the sweat mixed with tears and drool, as well as the tortured pleasure in your eyes is a heavenly sight, he listens to your weak pleas

he finally pulls away and you sigh in relief. Tommy stays away from your pussy (as much as he hates it) and spends his time licking your thighs clean. just a minute away from your pussy makes him whimper and look up at you pleadingly. your legs are still shaking and you shake your head at him

so Tommy whines and starts biting your thighs instead, getting closer and closer to your pussy until he's mouthing right next to it. you're shaking and sweating and still losing a coupe tears when he licks flat over your clit once. then your back arches and you gasp, trying not to make too loud a noise

you know if you moan he's gonna start again and you think he might actually kill you that time. he softly licks over your clit again, wraps his lips around it and you slap a hand over your mouth. but Tommy sees your lack of noise as a sign to keep going and starts sucking on your clit. when his teeth graze over it your hand whips away from your mouth to his hair and you yell out a moan that ends with a broken whine

immediately you know you're in for it. Tommy moans happily and grabs your thighs hard once more. he dives into you again and gets back to his sloppy, needy and enthusiastic pace without hesitation. all you can do is moan, whimper and whine as Tommy makes you see stars over and over again

he's obsessed with making you squirt on his face and listening to your whimpers as he tastes you. he loves the feeling of your heartbeat in your clit, pounding against his tongue

sometimes you can't get him off of your pussy until he's had at least a couple hours of his way with you. he's obsessed with your pussy and a single taste makes him entirely lose his mind. he'd do anything to fall to his knees in front of you

he would spend forever between your thighs if it was up to him

your pussy is his paradise and his salvation. every gush of your juices is a baptism of wonder. you are his goddess and he worships you at every turn

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, step cest, none of reader's holes are safe

fem reader

Thinking about step-daddy who only married your mom to get closer to you... who thinks an unruly brat like yourself needs his firm hands and teachings to set you on the right course.

You can't believe what’s happening – can’t believe his words.

Your mind is caught in a frenzied state of denial and panic as he forces you down on your bed after you'd told him to get the fuck out of your room when he walked in on you getting dressed to go out, standing there in only a dainty set of panties.

You brace your hands against his broad chest as he bears down on you – trying to create space for you to breathe but achieving little else than if you’d been trying to lift a mountain.

He’s too big and too heavy – too strong.

He doesn’t even bother restraining your fists – not even when you start banging them against him. It’s as if he doesn’t even recognize the assault – busy burying his face in your cute cleavage, nuzzling the soft mounds with sloppy kisses and his bearded chin.

“Stop it!” You hic through tears – sobbing now that the pursuing events dawn on you, coming crashing down, wreaking through your brittle head at the feeling of your panties being tugged down your thighs – flimsy lace splintering before getting ripped off.

He disrupts your cry with a firm hand, taking hold of your chin – and you fall still in wait. 

“You' gonna let Daddy eat your pretty pussy out if you know what's good for you…” His lips brush yours with the vile threat while his other hand cups your bare cunt – whispering ruggedly, “Or I might just have to put you over my knee.”

You’re frozen beneath him – eyes shimmering with gloss, staring up into his impossibly dark stare – feeling leveled under the burden of his threat.

“What’s it gonna be, sweetpea? Y’gonna behave for Daddy? Or am I gonna have to use my belt on you?”

You stay still, and he takes it as your answer – smiling at you before placing a quick kiss on your cheek. 

“That’s Daddy’s good girl~”

Leaning back, he wrings his shirt off over his shoulders, revealing his bulky chest of curls and worn skin before throwing the article aside and looking back down at you with drunken eyes that give you shivers. His old muscles are flecked with age but no less brutal to behold – all intimidating enough to make you swallow thickly.

“You can cry out all you like, pretty girl~” He grins as he takes your thighs in his hands – lifting them, spreading them, then pushing them flat down against your chest – tipping your cunt up to his mouth. "A good girl knows how to scream." His breath is ticklish on your exposed sex. “But the only words I wanna hear come out of your mouth is – yes please, daddy – more please, daddy – and pretty please, daddy, can I cum?”

You whine when he licks a stripe through your folds – dark eyes glinting at the sound, chuckling hotly under his breath.

“Walkin’ ‘round my house dressed up like a little slut – teasin’ me all day long.” He gruffs. “Tch – this pretty cunt’s gonna get what you’ve been beggin’ for, and you’re gonna take it with a smile – understand that, little lady?”

Your toes are immediately curled, gripping the air for purchase as he buries his face in your muff. And he’s messy with it – spitting, then slurping it up again – splitting the lips to suck your clit, then pressing a deep kiss into it – tongue flatly running over the pearl, lapping at it like a dog. All with a heated glare – hungry like a starved animal – eagerly set on your face.

You squeeze your eyes shut to avoid it, lip caught between teeth – trying to stifle all moans.

But the folded position he has you in presses you free of air – soon leaving you to pant out like a silly bitch in heat – thighs wanting to squeeze shut but kept pinned and trembling in the harsh grip he has on them.

“Oh~ look at yah~ my little slut~” He hums between licks, a grin still slickly plastered on his face – mustache glistening with drool and arousal. “Must feel good to make you tremble like that – does my little girl wanna cum?”

You whine, trying to shake your head in denial – but the pressure builds whether you want it to or not – squeezing tight like a fist in your gut, desperate to unknot.

“Better ask for Daddy’s permission, or I won't be happy.” He adds, giving your thighs a pinch – hard enough to make you yelp – sure to leave bruises.

“Ah – no.”

You don’t want it – you curl your head to the side with a grimace.

You feel gross – reeling as his tongue circles your hotspot, unable to deny the tickle in your gut – recognizing the blossoming, knowing you’d soon bloom.

“Mgh," You whine. "Yes, please! I need – can I please cum?!”

“Call me Daddy.” He demands, talking into your cunt while nuzzling his nose against your clit.

“Please, Daddy – please, can I cum!”

Another chuckle makes you shake – almost impatiently – before he purrs, “Sure, baby – go ahead – make a mess~” 

He gives your clit one last harsh suck before sticking his tongue inside you, deep with a grin, while feeling you tremor on it, tasting your sweet release like it was a victory.

You throw your head back and your chest up – whole body quaking – trembling at the thrill pulsing from your core, zipping along each limb – leaving you feeling cottony and numb from the pleasure.

You pant with softer moans when it dissipates – still feeling twitchy.

Hooded eyes with teary lashes fall from the ceiling to his face – then regret it.

The shame washes away all pleasure – making your sweat go cold.

But if he sees it, he doesn’t care. “That was beautiful, baby girl~” He moans instead, eyes still keenly set on you.

You cringe, chagrined as he kisses your slit once more – tonguing the slick opening and humming at the sweet taste.

He finishes you with a sharp kitten lick flicking off at your clit – then releases your thighs. Pulling you with him as he got up on his feet by the edge of your bed.

“C’mere – on your knees.” His fist wraps your hair – tugging your head back. “Open wide and tongue out fo’me. It's my turn.”

Your brows cinch, feeling your scalp sting from the grip, making you timidly obey.

He groans at the pretty sight – looking so cute with that dewy glow on your cheeks – plush lips wet and welcoming – pink tongue trembling in eager wait of him.

Sighing with a leer, “Such a pretty little thing~” His other hand zips down his fly, pinched free the button, and let the baggy slacks drop to the floor.

Thicker tears pool in your eyes – a horrid burn of humiliation making your tongue feel heavy, kneeling beneath him with your mouth gaping – knowing what was coming.

“This is what you wanted, right – why you've been acting like such a brat?” He pulls your face against the pudgy bulge in his boxer – warm and thick beneath the black fabric with a ripe smell of musk. “You wanna be Daddy’s big fat cock to satisfy all your greedy little holes, hm?”

You don’t close your mouth – the fist ripping your strands from their roots was warning enough to keep you pliant.

“Come on then, little slut~” He started cooing, nudging the sack against your tongue, dipping inside the warm opening. “Show me how much you want it – and don’t look away.” The smile on his face made your guts fold. “I wanna see those pretty eyes beg for it.”

He gives your hair a sharper tug, forcing out a whine from your throat. It spurs him on, making him chuckle – watching your eyes tremble up at him – struggling against his bulbous crotch, cuddling it so cutely, making him twitch.

Rasping out, “Such a needy little whore~” while his other hand dragged the band down.

Your mouth sealed closed on instinct – eyes too – shutting tightly once his cock sprung free. Whimpering when feeling it slug on your face – you tried to turn your head away – but was kept close by the hand fisting your hair.

“Bad girl, I told you to keep your mouth open and your eyes on me.” He sneered, pinching your cheeks open with the other hand – hard enough to make you wince.

You peeled your eyes open again – with tears slipping down your face as you dropped your jaw for him again.

“Playing games like a snotty brat.” He hissed, rubbing his leaky cockhead over your parted lips – smearing his pre on them like lipstick while you shuddered. “Look at you now, mmh~ such a good girl for Daddy~ taking it on your knees.”

He dabbed himself on your tongue, and you had to keep yourself from retching – tasting the bitter salt.

“Mmh~ begging for it like an eager little cum-junkie~” He groaned, lolling forward, cock sliding over the bed of your tongue and hitting the back of your throat in a soft kiss – only with half his veiny shaft in your mouth.

He licked his lips and threw his head back.

“I knew you just needed a firm grip – knew you’d make the most perfect little slut fo’me~”

You gagged when he started thrusting, hands positioning themselves on his sturdy thighs, fingers digging into the muscles as he stuffed your mouth full of his length – weighty balls clapping against your chin where spit started frothing.

He held your jaw in guidance – keeping you steady to receive him.

Throaty moans grated your ears as he abused the wet warmth – looking down at you and how you struggled, unable to take all of him. It didn’t bother him, though – the tight ring of your lips sucking along his veins was enough to make him go crazy.

It felt so right to be throat-fucking your pretty little face; he couldn't believe he hadn't done it sooner – creating such a cute mess all over you – looking so hot on your knees for him like this, with spit and pre cum slicking your face like a young prostitute in the making.

You obeyed as best you could – not used to the size or tempo. You'd given few blowjobs before and never been facefucked. But you figured the sooner you could make him cum, the sooner all this would be over.

He thought about it, too. He could cum down your throat like this, make you swallow – drink his seed like a good whore should.

But the idea is soon replaced by the thought of stuffing your sweet cunt instead – feed your womb his hot load – wear your tight pussy like it was tailored just for him.

He popped out of your mouth, and you coughed before heaving for air – panting – nearly barreling over if it hadn’t been for the grip he still had around your hair. 

Pulling you up by it – his other hand found your throat, and your mouth was taken by his – kissed hungrily with teeth pulling at your lip while tickled by his facial hair.

“Mh- c’mere,” He groaned into your mouth – plopping himself down on the mattress while pulling you along by the neck. “Up on my Daddy’s lap, baby.”

He continues kissing you, with both hands slipping down to squeeze each asscheek, rolling your hips back and forth on him, making your wet cunt grind against the stiff underside of his cock.

You can’t help but make a noise as it licks your sensitive clit, rubbing over it in wet warm strokes. You balance yourself against his chest – hands placed on his muscles – pushing yourself up from slacking against him.

You’re still breathless, left gasping – too weak to fight it when he leans after you, mouth on your tits, sucking your nipples into hardened little peaks.

Your hands go to the hair atop his head, gripping the locks to steady yourself.

He chuckles at the pull, looking up at you while rasping out a filthy “Is my little girl excited to get her little pussy stuffed by Daddy’s cock?” with a lazy grin carved on his face.

And before you can deny it, he’s already confirming the statement.

“You must be – your little cunt is so fucking wet for it.” He cheered. Hand slipping between you to slap his thickness against your slit – rubbing himself between the lips with a mocking pout on his lips. “This poor little pussy, cock-starved and empty~ I know, I know, you want to cum on Daddy’s cock, don’t you?”

He lifts your ass up so that you’re hovering over the tip – using the other hand to angle it against your entrance.

Purring, “Don’t worry, baby~ finally gonna stretch you out nice and tight~ fuck you into size like a proper cock-toy~ fill you up with my hot cum~”

You shake your head and squirm when he begins to nudge the head inside – but both hands place themselves back on your hips, gripping them firmly enough for it to find purchase.

“There we go, ease on down it, baby~ get comfortable~” He coos, even though you’re sinking your nails into the tough muscles of his chest – gasping at the ill sting of the stretch as he pushes you down despite the tight resistance. “Oh, fuuuck – so wet and snug on me~” He sucks his teeth, snapping his hips up to bottom out deeply. “Take all of me, now~ let Daddy bottom out~”

His head hangs back – Adam’s apple bobbing up with his mouth hung wide in a silent moan while you wince – desperately wanting to lift off. 

But he keeps you seated – tensely made to cock-warm him while slowly adjusting to the size – taunt walls rippling along his veins, sucking on it as it settles inside you, molding you to accept its shape.

He squares his jaw, then gives a breathy hum that makes his beard dance – lifting his head to look at where he’s got himself sheathed to the hilt – his eyes lost in it as he sets a slow pace – using both hands to steer your hips, rocking you back and forth with barely any lift to relieve you – keeping himself lodged just as deep – cozily kneading your cervix.

“That’s a good pussy right there – wet and tight and all mine.” He groans, lolling you on him sweetly. “Isn't that right, baby? This pretty pussy belongs to Daddy, doesn’t it?”

He watches your perky tits jiggle for him. Leaning forward, he gives it a suckling wet pop.

“Every inch of this slut’s body belongs to Daddy, isn’t that right, little one?” He demands a little harsher, threatening the nipple between his teeth.

“Ye-yes…” You whimper. 

It’s been a while since you’ve been stretched like that – it’s been a while since your insides have been given any attention at all. When you do it for yourself, you mostly just settle for playing with your clit – happy with one orgasm to take the edge off.

This is touching on more nerves – lighting other fires – different wells – tapping all sources – you’re leaking juices all over him, practically sopping, sucking him in – all but your head overly ecstatic for the attention.

“You wanna cum again – don’t you, my little slut?” He murmurs knowingly, giving your ass a harsh slap while pressing his forehead against yours.

He groans as he picks up the pace – dragging a moan out from your chest.

You want to deny it again like before – but the pleasure allows little else than to be appreciated with heavy shuddering breaths.

“Remember the rules, sweetie. Better beg permission, or you’ll be punished.” He warns.

You spot a grin forming on his lips – sharp like a knife – before uttering the next words.

“Better say, please let me cum on your big fat cock, Daddy~”

You scowl, trying to sneer, “Fuh-fuck you…” but your voice weakens to a whine.

Still, it’s unacceptable.

“That’s not how you speak to your Daddy. Bad slut.” A harder slap cracks across your ass – this time, making you yelp.

Your hair is pulled before you recover – and you’re thrown off his lap. Placed with your knees on the floor and your face in the warm and sweaty seat he’d just been sitting.

He stands above you – using a hand to pin your wrists to the small of your back while another hard smack is given to your already throbbing rear.

“If your pussy won’t follow the rules…” He licks his lips, looking down at the sight of you bent over beneath him, sobbing fat tears from the abuse. “Then this ass is next in line.”

You flinch with the words, eyes going wide. “What?” Already shuffling uneasily, gasping once his heavy hand came back to pet the welted cheek, branded with his handprint, giving it a firm squeeze that had you wince.

“It seems you don’t understand who’s in charge here…” He chided, with a coarse finger settling on the untouched rosebud slicked in pussy-juice, rubbing it slow and steady. “But I bet fucking your tight virgin ass is gonna make that crystal clear.”

“No – please no-” You plead, jostling weakly with your remaining strength – but the digit enters you anyway.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but it’s too late to beg now – you gotta take your punishment,” He dismisses, digging knuckle-deep inside your butthole. “But to be honest with you… I was hoping you’d bite back like that.” He gruffs eerily at your ear. “I dream about putting your bratty ass in its proper place every night.” 

His finger twists and curls inside the hole, loosening it a little before skewering another two in. 

“Make you cry as I turn you into a good little butt-slut for me – get this sweet hole to gape for my cock to fill it up.”

He puts you in a headlock after pulling his three fingers out of your stretched opening – letting go of your wrists in favor of reaching under you to play with your pussy as he bullies his bulbous cockhead into the tight ring while you cry. With nails biting into your palms and your poor gushing cunt clenching around nothing.

He enters slowly, giving it shallow thrusts to fuck it open before feeding it another fat inch. Rubbing your clit between gritty fingers as he sinks inside you – burying his shaft within the snug walls of your tight ass as your hole gives in to his size, swallowing him up until he’s kissing your stomach with his heavy balls squeezed flush against your cunt.

“There you go, my little anal slut~ That’s Daddy’s brat getting taught her place!” He gives your butt another firm slap as he starts dragging out and stuffing you right back up again. “Getting her naughty ass spanked and propped with cock like a little whore~”

The fat arm squeezing your neck and the fingers swirling your clit make your head cloudy – even as your ass screams from the pounding, your cunt begs for the attention – milking nothing as it weeps with slick, running down your thighs into a little pool where you kneel.

“Aah- Daddy…” You moan through a sob. “Please…” Whimpering while you throttle his cock with your taunt ass, all but fucking yourself back on his shaft as he keeps rubbing your clit in steady patterns that have your cunt kissing the air. “Daddy, please – please let me cum…”

His chuckle is lazy and grating, feeling your cute ass swallow his cock all on its own.

“Y’know, only a real whore cums from having her ass fucked, right?”

You can’t help but buck your hips, shaking your ass like a slut as his fingers pick up the pace and rub your bundle of nerves in quicker circles. Begging, “Please…” 

“Oh, what a filthy little girl~ bent over like a mindless animal, fucked in her tight ass.” He patronizes. “Okay, my sweet little slut~ I’ll let you cum – but only after I hear you Say, please, Daddy, can I cum on your big fat cock~”

You’re too close to refuse. Desperation lacing your cute moans, “Ah – Daddy, please – mh-please can I cum on your big- ah – fat cock, please, Daddy please~”

He shoves three fingers in your cunt at that, curling them into your soft spot each time he pumps them inside, finger-fucking the sloppy hole until it spurts, making you scream while you squirt, drooling on your sheets like a mind-broken mess as your thighs and ass shake from the release.

“Good whore~ Remember to say thank you.” He mocks.

“Th-thank you – thank you, Daddy~” You mewl out cutely before he sticks all three slick-glossed fingers inside your mouth – fucking the tired opening as you pant out dewy moans around them, sucking them clean of your mess.

He keeps a steady rhythm, continuing to ream your poor butt until it's his turn to cum.

“Such a good slut~” He slinks out of your pummeled ass and slaps his wet cock against your face where you rest against the bed, all sweaty and dumb from your orgasm. “Come’ere, cum-baby, tongue out as you look up at Daddy~”

He smiles, smothering you between his fat thighs while his balls cover your face, pulling back to tap the tip on your lips.

“Here it comes!”

White ropes lash your tongue, leaving a bitter taste – bejewelling your face with pretty pearls that melt down your smooth skin like drying paint on a canvas.

He groans as he tugs the last few spurts out of his balls, wiping the messy cockhead on your tongue.

“Aw, I gotta have a picture of that. Daddy’s little cum covered whore on her first day of training~”

He holds your chin, rough-handling your jaw between strong fingers as he angles your face to meet the flash of his phone.

Grinning as he sing-songs, “Say, all my holes belong to Daddy~”

Your expression is still dumb, softly blinking up at him with one eye weighed down with his cum, simply mouthing the words back to him. “All my holes belong to Daddy~”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Enji, Aizawa ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Toji, Kusakabe, Shiu ♡ HQ – Daichi, Kuro, Ukai

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[buckyalpine]

In some universe I like to think Bucky likes to fuck. Hard. He holds back when he has his hands all over your body and he's trying desperately to shut out the monster in his brain screaming to ravage you because he. Wants. To. Fuck.

There are days where he wants that tender loving and he wants to be soft and sweet but on others?

The release feels to good and in that moment he's in full control, chasing that pleasure, hyper focused on the way his cockhead is dripping and swollen, more sensitive than ever. Its throbbing and his veins are pumping all the blood to his rock hard cock.

At first he does a good job of hiding it.

But then the mask begins to fall.

Primal urges want to take over but how can he ruin his sweet little bunny whose laying under him, moaning and looking at him with doe eyes.

How can he-

"Buck?"

Bucky's hips stutter at the sound of your soft voice laced with concern, your hand coming to cup his cheek.

"You okay?" You can tell he's not all there, his movements hesitant, body too stiff. You're plaint under him but his muscles are tight, jaw clenched. "What's wrong Jamie"

Jamie. The name you had for him alone made him want to fuck you till all you could do was scream his-

"We can stop if-

"No-" Bucky cuts you off before you could continue, petting your head reassuringly, "Everything's fine doll, promise" He pecks a kiss to your nose making you blink and it some how makes him harder. You're so trusting, spreading out naked on his bed, completely unsuspecting of all the dirty things he really wanted to do to you. You were checking in on him to see if he's okay, not having a clue he wanted to rail you so hard, you'd forget how to speak. Pound you till you were begging for him to stop because there was too much cum for your tiny cunt to handle and his heavy balls would still be aching for release.

"You can tell me" You whisper, wiggling from under him to wrap your soft thighs around his waist, stroking his scruffy cheek. "Please?"

Bucky doesn't think he can hide his needs for much longer. Not when your scent is all over him now; on his pillow, the sheets, its soaked onto his skin with how closely your naked bodies are pressing against each other. How can he be expected to have any self-control when you're looking up at him like that like a sweet little bunny caught in the wolfs den, cuddling into her predators chest.

"You really want to know?" His voice was husky, letting his nose trail along the column of your neck, breathing in your sweet smell, letting his tongue dart out to taste your sweat slicked skin. The action makes you gasp, clenching around him with a whimper, your eyes growing wide when a growl emits from deep in his chest, "Are you sur you really want to know?"

"Y-yes" You nod, your breath hitching in your throat at the dark smirk that appears on his face as his hand snakes up to softly clasp around your throat.

"I want to ruin you bunny" Bucky's nose nudges against your affectionately before leaning down to nip your pouty bottom lip.

"R-ruin?" You whisper, a wave of slick soaking his cock further which doesn't go unnoticed by him. He experimentally draws his hips back and snaps them forward, hitting your cervix, the salacious moan you let out driving him feral.

"I want to fuck. Promise I'll make love to you after but I want to fuck you pretty girl" He squeezes your throat a little tighter, moving to graze his teeth along your jaw. "Will you let me? Fuck this pretty little pussy?"

The breathy yes you let out is all he needs.

And fuck you he does.

-

"J-JAMIEE"

"That's it-scream-scream for me!" He roars, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and he pulls you back to meet his thrusts, his balls slapping your clit each time. He has you on your hands and knees though your arms gave way, your face pressed against the mattress. He brings his leg up to get a deeper angle and the feeling causes white spots to blur you vision.

"M-more-Wan' more" You weakly beg, tears streaming down your face in pleasure, your entire body being held up by his grip as he takes you from behind.

"Greedy slut, begging for more as if she isn't already full of cock and cum" Bucky gritted out, having already emptied himself in your once, your combined slick making it easier for him to pound you. "Just a hole for me to fuck, you're just here to get me off aren't you baby, just a tight little pussy for me to stuff my dick into"

"Ye-ah" You hiccup, overstimulated from the orgasms he's pulled from your body left, right and center. "So-so-good"

"S'good huh, gotta keep you well fucked for my fat cock bunny" You have no idea where he got such a filthy mouth from, another orgasm building in your belly from his words alone, "Can feel you getting tight again, lookit you cumming all over me baby, messy girl, soaking me"

You can't respond aside from wailing with pleasure, trickles of squirt wetting his thighs, the sight making his balls pull towards his body.

"That's it, good girl, fuck gonna cum bunny, gonna give you my cum and keep fucking it back into you, keep you nice and full of me" He rails you faster, the serum in his veins pumping, sweat dripping down his body. He feels impossibly hot, head thrown back as immense pleasure shoots down his spine, his pace growing sloppy. There's not a single thought in his brain other than busting load after load in your sopping cunt till his cock his soft. He doesn't care that it almost hurts, overstimulated himself, panting and rutting into you, he's so far gone, his deep moans slipping into a whimper as his cock starks to leak, he's so close-

"OH-FUCKK" Hot ropes of his spend shoot from his tip as he lets his body fall on top of you, humping and rutting himself till he's all empty, "y'feel to good, can't even stop, holy shit" He moans into your neck, suckling at your pulse point while you writhe under him feeling his cum seep out of you. His movements slow till there's nothing left, his sensitive length still tucked between your folds, pink and soft and wet with your cream. He carefully moves you so you're resting on the pillows, his cool metal hand brushing your forehead.

"Come back to me bunny" Bucky coos, chuckling at your dazed state, your eyes still unfocused, panting and blindly reaching for him, "M'right here babygirl, c'mhere, I got you" He cradles your soft body close to his, kissing your hairline. "Did so good for me princess, so so proud of you"

You let out a sleepy yawn, curling up on his chest like a content kitten, closing your eyes while nuzzling into him. You've never looked so peaceful and happy and Bucky can tell just by your happy little sigh you want more of what he gave you.

[rafecameroninterlude]

Omg, idea! It can be with Pouge!Sweetheart and Rafe are having sex, and he is choking her (she likes it) but this time she is about to pass out and Rafe is too primal/into the sex to understand that she is trying to tap out and does not hear her. She passes out mid sex, going limp and Rafe absolutely panics trying to wake her up. A bit of a soft Rafe who then is overly attentive feeling so bad.

warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, asphyxiation, choking, slight praise, dirty talk, loss of consciousness

a/n: poor pogue!sweetheart!reader omg. she’s been punched in the face on accident and now this?? I’m begging y’all to give her a break!

“rafe!” you practically screamed, your hands wrapping around the wrist he had at the column of your throat. while rafe had never been this rough before, he was hesitant as you begged him not to go soft on you. now you found yourself nothing but a whimpering mess, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as he had you pinned to your bed by the back of your knees. “this is what you wanted? ‘wanted me to choke you while i use this pussy?” you took your bottom lip between your teeth, your head pounding as your vision grew fuzzy.

nodding weakly, rafe’s grip on your neck tightened, his head falling as your velvety walls squeezed around him in a way that made him lose his mind. “so fucking wet, all for me..” he pressed a kiss to your ankle, rolling his hips to meet your clit with each thrust. before you could decipher what was happening, you mumbled a ‘too much’, tapping on his hand as he groaned, leaning down to bury his head in the valley of your breasts. you gasped before black spots began dotting your vision, your eyes fluttering closed as you lost consciousness.

“fuck, these tits are so fucking perfect.” he took a sensitive bud in his mouth, his gaze flickering at your face only to see your head lolled to the side, your lips glossy and swollen. “baby?” it was just then that he realized your entire body was limp, his thrusts slowing down. “y/n?” he grabbed your face, tapping your cheek lightly. panic set in at your lack of response, his eyes widening as he removed his hand from your neck. “oh, fuck!” he pulled out, rushing to pull his boxers on before he scooped you up in his arms.

he continued to lightly slap your cheek, blowing air on your face as he shook you. “come on, baby, you gotta wake up..” his heart was pounding out of his chest as you didn’t budge, his eyebrows drawing together as he got up, running to the small kitchen where he got a damp towel. dabbing your face with the cool cloth, he shook with every second you didn’t stir awake. “fuck!” he whispered, swallowing thickly as regret settled in the pit of his stomach. he knew he shouldn’t have done that much.

rafe kept up his ministrations for a few more minutes before he shook his head, his fists meeting his cheeks before he dialed 911. “911 what’s your emergency?” rafe let out a shaky breath, muttering a ‘uh, m-me and my girlfriend were-’ right before you opened your eyes, blinking up at the ceiling as you moaned. “ray?” you were more confused than anything, your boyfriend hanging up on the operator before he ran to your side. “oh my god.” he sighed, moving your hair off of your shoulder as he covered you with your duvet.

“i was tapping out..” your eyes sparkled up at rafe. he was on the verge of tears, shaking his head as he embraced you. “i didn’t hear you, baby. i’m so fucking sorry.” he pecked your lips, stroking your face as you ran a hand up and down his arm to soothe him. “i don’t know what happened, i was just really into it, i didn’t realize how hard i was squeezing you. i’m so sorry.” he apologized again. coughing softly, you sat up, pulling him onto the bed so he could hold you. “just hold me.” you kissed his cheek, both of you falling asleep shortly after.

the next day, rafe made it his life’s mission to make everything up to you. surprising you with your favorite breakfast, bathing you and putting you in some comfortable clothes, massaging your feet, eating you out until you cried, ordering your carts on all your shopping apps, and showering you with kisses until the sun went down.

[logansdoll]

night terror

one of logan's nightmares goes awry... in the worst way possible.

CW: angst with a happy ending, Logan is so sweet, he just needs love and reassurance, blood, gore, you can heal just like Logan but it takes a little longer... so you're still in pain.

For as long as you'd known him, Logan always had horrible night terrors.

Bouts of kicking and thrashing.

Trembles of phantom pain.

Roars of agony and torture.

The earlier days were the hardest.

To see your lover in such consistent and unrelenting pain.

To watch him war with, not only with the demons of his past, but with himself, nearly every night.

You often wondered how one man could bear it all...

And somehow still have the strength to greet you with a smile come morning.

Even still, eventually—be it wishful thinking or whatever else—you reached a point where you believed at least this was it.

This had to be as bad as it could get... right?

Wrong.

And you wouldn't realize just how terribly wrong you were... until a cold December night...

In the midst of one of the worst night terrors you'd ever seen him through.

"LOGAN!" your voice screamed, full of fear and cracking with pain as it echoed around him.

Logan was surrounded by perpetual darkness, barely able to see the hand in front of his face, and only able to hear your shrieks echo in his mind.

"(y/n)?" his brows furrowed, panic rising in his tone as he snapped his head around in search of you. "(y/n)?!"

"LOGAN!" you cried again, the sound seeming to tear through your throat.

"I'm comin'!" he called, breaking into a run as he frantically looked around. "I'll find you! Stay put!"

"Will you now?" a sickeningly familiar voice chided.

Logan froze in his tracks, his claws extending on pure instinct as his eyes landed on the man before him.

William Stryker.

Never before had Logan experienced such anger at the sight of a singular person.

"What have you done to her?" he asked, trembling with fury.

The man chuckled, motioning toward his feet with an amused smile.

"I believe you mean: what have you done to her..."

Logan's eyes trailed down to the floor, and the moment they were met with your unmoving form, all time and space seemed to halt.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't speak.

Why did the world make him pay for his sins by putting you through so much pain?

Walking toward you, he couldn't believe it was real—that anything was.

But as he dropped to his knees and cupped your cheek, only to be met by the icy burn of your skin, he lost all control.

Blinded by nothing but pure, unbridled rage, he let out a deafening roar, leaping forward and plunging his claws deep into Stryker's stomach.

Only... your voice was the one that gasped.

In the time it took him to blink, the darkness was gone, and he was suddenly back in his bedroom, sitting upright your shared bed.

But rather than having Stryker impaled on his claws, it was you, squeezing his forearms with a look of surprise.

A look of pure horror unfolded on his face, and as his eyes lowered to your stomach, he was greeted by the huge stains of red soaking through your tank top, and only getting larger.

"Logan," you grunted, softly, trying to muster a smile as you fought through the pain, already aware of the thoughts racing through his head. "It's okay."

Quickly, his claws retracted, and you jolted with them, letting out another pained grunt.

"Doll..." his voice cracked, small and broken.

It was just as he feared.

Clutching your stomach, you slowly began to fall, but Logan frantically moved, catching and cradling you in his arms.

"(y/n)!" he panicked, practically heaving as he looked you over, struggling to find the words. "Shit! Fuck, I didn't mean to... I didn't see... you were just... I couldn't stop—"

You quieted him by raising a hand to his cheek, softly cupping it as your thumb smoothed over his cheekbone.

He leaned into your touch almost instantly, his free hand coming to rest over yours.

"You have nothing to apologize for," you assured with a warm smile, lifting your shirt to reveal one of the holes was already closing up. "Look... it's healing already."

Seeing that it was, indeed, already closing, he let out a heavy exhale, the sight helping him calm down if only slightly

But it didn't refute the principle of what he did.

The evidence might disappear, but he still hurt you.

It was your blood staining the sheets.

It was your blood staining your shirt.

And it was your blood staining his hands.

What kind of man was he?

What kind of man couldn't protect his own girl... from himself?

"Don't you dare," you ordered, tone firm as you sat up on your knees, the second hole having closed.

His face made his thoughts perfectly clear.

Logan watched you, intently, as your other hand came to rest on his other cheek, holding him in place as your eyes poured into his.

"I don't know what happened in your dream, but I am right here," you assured, your voice unwavering. "I am perfectly fine and I am perfectly safe, because you are here with me."

Slowly, his eyes flicked down to your stomach, the torn holes and bloodstains still there despite the healed skin.

"I hurt you..." he warned, watching his hands as they slowly slid down to rest on your hips. "This could happen again."

You smiled, your hands sliding down to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pound against his skin.

"Then I'll heal... and we'll start over."

You took his hand in yours, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his with a cheesy grin.

"It'll take a lot more than that to get rid of me."

He let out a small chuckle at the poorly timed joke, and you placed a tender kiss on his soft lips, before pulling back and flashing him other smile.

And although he seemed to be okay, Logan never truly let go of that night, the memory a nagging reminder in the back of his mind.

After a little more time, he eventually re-acclimated himself to sleeping so close to you—only now, he kept his arms firmly wrapped around you, and trained himself to keep his hands pointed as far away from you as possible.

It took a while, and the terrors from his past still plagued his nights...

But, awake or otherwise, he never hurt you again.

[justiceforvillains]

✨ Rough sex with Bangchan✨

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Rough sex with Bangchan him folding you in half having your legs almost touching your chest, and thrusting in and out in a rapid pace "this little cunt of yours is swallowing me so good princess" he would grunt out.

Just fucking you dumb till you can't Form any words anymore but as much as he likes your fucked out state he loves hearing you beg because you do it so prettily and you're always so shy and embarrassed about it (we all know this man has a corruption kink) So every time you get close to your release he stills in you, smirking, drinking in the way tears would pool in your eyes from frustration

he would let your legs go and watch you whine and cry but still not quite begging. He started moving again lowering his head till it's right next to your ear "Tell me what you want baby I will give it to you just beg me nicely like you always do" he smiles once he hears you repeatedly say "please" "please what little one? use your words"

He raises his head, to look down at you what a fucking sight he thought, titts bouncing with every thrust, arms fisting the sheets, pretty little whines and "pleases" leaving your lips, crying from frustration and overstimulation fuck you look absolutely stunning like that and only he gets to see you like this only he can get you so desperate.

He expected a "please fuck me" "please let me cum" or at least "please faster" what he didn't expect was you making grappy hands (he melts every time you do those) and stuttering out a "p-please k-kiss me, wan' you close" The rough mean dom would immediately melt at this point he hates the effect you had on him

it was almost pitiful how easy you could turn him into a softy. He immediately lowered himself kissing your lips, his arms sneaking around your waist before pulling you up with him

you whined and tried hiding your face in his neck but he pulled it away kissing you as he started thrusting up at you. You were straddling him while he held you close, knees digging in the sheets after kissing you he lowered his head catching the hard nub in his mouth you threw your head back screaming his name.

You were so damn close and by the why his hips are stuttering he was too "fuck I fucking love you baby" he grunts out when he felt you claps around him "love you too" and like that you both came falling down on the bed with him on top of you.

After a while you started playing with his hair "I meant it" you looked down at him, you thought he already fell asleep "meant what?" he looked up at you before whispering "that I love you… You know that right" you giggled kissing his lips softly "I mean it as well I love you too Channie"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

I was bored :( And horny

✦ Masterlist ✦

[elliesgaythoughts]

Ellie fucking you in your brothers room after she had an argument with him

Toxic bbf!Ellie x in love reader

Warnings: fighting, angst, oral, blood, spit kink (once) and weed💗

“Broo cmon!” Ellie’s yell passes through your brothers room to your ears as you sit crossed legged atop your bed, barely reading up on your studies, your mind was other places. You missed Ellie.

It has been days since Ellie had her fingers buried inside your snug cunt, since you moaned her name and fucked yourself on her, since she called you her good girl as she sucked her fingers clean and walked out of your room as if nothing had happened. She then walked downstairs and greeted your parents so sweetly with the taste of you still on her tongue.

You tried to focus on the sounds from kehlani that filled your ears but her yells that started playfully at your brother were starting to sound a bit more serious, they argued often over stupid shit like video games and sports “you didn’t fucking win!” “I fucking did. What do you call this then?” You hear him chuckle as he probably shows her the scoreboard, then the house goes silent as Ellie knocks the wind from his lungs with a swift punch to the ribs “cunt!” she screams as he hits her back with a box to the face and you hear the sound of fists hitting flesh and hisses of pain for a solid ten minutes before you hear your brother yell at you “im gonna go get some air!” and slam the front door.

You grab a cloth and cautiously walk out in just your pink shorts, a white crop and your hair in a ponytail “Ellie?” You call softly as you follow the sounds of her groans into your brothers room, you creak the door open and your heart drops at the sight “fuuck baby” you coo, stepping forward with the rag in your hand and reaching up to wipe the bloody corner of her mouth “don’t call me that”

She hated when you showed her affection but when she saw your bottom lip tremble, your eyes tear up and your gaze fall she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around you “shh it’s okay mama” she cooed, rubbing circles onto your waist. You knew what she was going to ask for next. She always knew how to talk to you when she wanted something. She knew what you needed to hear.

The auburn headed woman huffs through her lips “I need you mama” and your eyes light up as you look at her from the spot on her chest where she rested your head “yeah?” She pauses “yeah” and separates herself from you.

Her eyes land on your lips then to where she taps on her belt buckle and you understand instantly what she wants from you as you drop to your knees softy. Even though you knew she saw you as nothing but a release you were on your knees in front of her and insatiable for the taste of her, clumsily unbuckling the leather of her belt, undoing her zipper and pulling the denim past her pale thighs, her boxers following suit soon after.

Your mouth falls open and your pupils turn heart shaped at the sight of her as you take her in, the auburn trail that led down her toned tummy to her bush, the glisten of her slick against her lips. Your gaze softening and your breaths picking up as she lifted one of her legs over your shoulder and gripped your ponytail “cmon mama, are you gonna make daddy feel good?” “yeah..” you trail off, never removing your eyes from her wet cunt as you feel yourself throb against your panties “gonna make you feel so good daddy”

You breathe in as your fingertips dance on the outside of her thighs, feeling her smooth flesh as your lips meet her cunt and you feel her hair tickle the tip of your nose as you kiss over her lips and whine at the feel of her on your pout as you slide your tongue through her dripping folds, a guttural moan leaving your throat as you palmed her ass and pressed her closer to your mouth while you tasted her beating clit, sucking on it as your eyes met hers.

Ellie nearly came at the sight of you, her clit between your lips and her slick painted across you face as your pretty doe eyes begged so desperately for approval from the girl that gripped your hair and rewarded you with a strained groan.

Your cunt was aching as she pulled on your hair, disconnecting you from her puffy clit and gripping your chin to open your mouth “tongue out” and your pink muscle is revealed to her instantly before she disrespectfully spits onto it and carelessly shoves your face back against her cunt as you instantly sucked and flicked at her clit.

Both of her hands gripped onto the back of your head as her hips bucked “oh fuck” her voice cracks “that’s it baby, just like that” and you nod, closing your eyes and whining “please” begging her to cum on your tongue, begging to be used like the slut you are, your cheeks hollowing and your finger teasing her entrance and slowly sliding inside her, making Ellie fold over as she clenched onto your finger, her belly spasming and hips bucking as she grinded onto your face, pulling your hair so hard that it hurt as she coated your finger and tongue in her pearlescent cum while she panted above you, trying to regain her breath.

A sigh left her and her puffy clit throbbed contently on your tastebuds as you rested your face against her and pulled your finger from inside her pulsating cunt “you taste so good daddy” you praise onto her pink flesh but doesn’t answer.

She lifts her shaky leg from your shoulder “you’re so good for me mama” and you try to hide the stupid smile that appears on your face as you look at her and dress her again as she runs her fingers through your hair while you close over her belt and kiss the buckle before raising to your feet and wrapping your arms over her shoulders, looking at her blushed face and leaning forward for a kiss, you’ve never kissed her before despite how intimate you both have been it still felt distant but this time felt different, it felt like she actually cared about you and you cared about her, you always have.

Your eyes flutter close as you cup her face, ready to finally feel her mouth against yours before you felt her leave your grip “go get cleaned up mama” she says before turning around and sitting in your brothers gaming chair, picking the controller up and turning on fifa again without giving you a second glance.

You felt your mouth turn into that horrible feeling of a frown and heard a sob leave your throat but Ellie acted like she couldn’t hear you, she wished she couldn’t hear you “close the door on your way out.” “okay” you whisper as you looked at the carpet and walked away.

You felt so used, a small tear rolling down your cheek as you left the room and closed the door behind you.

You walk into your bathroom and stop to look in your mirror, the sight of Ellie glistening on your lips and the tears rolling down from your bloodshot eyes turned your stomach as you tried to wipe them away while you stifled a sob as you heard the front door slam and your brother come up the stairs, walk pass the bathroom and into his bedroom.

He stood against the doorframe as he eyed Ellie “You gonna admit I won now?” He says to her, he seems more calm now and so does she, maybe fucking his little sister made her feel like she truely had a one up on him anyway. Sure he beat her score but she fucked his sisters face just moments ago so she didn’t give a fuck if he thought he won.

“Sure” she laughs as she tosses him the controller and sparks up a blunt, leaning back in his chair and manspreading as she took a draw and smirked to herself before she spoke “your sister is nice”

He stilled as he paused the game and stared her down “don’t you dare” he has always been protective of you and Ellie knew this “what?” She giggled “just don’t” “bro she’s your sister” she rolls her eyes “what do you take me for? I’d never”

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @moonalumi @heygrimace @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries @aouiaa

[2hightocare]

DOWN BAD! 02

Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.

Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader

Genre: friends to lovers. college au. slowburn!

Warnings: angst, drug use, profanity, explicit content, talks about abusive home, fighting, arguing, screaming, crying, flashbacks, oc and jk are nineteen (freshmen’s in uni) mentions of death, daddy/mommy issues.

a/n: GOSHHHHHHH! pray for my girl yn😓😓 she’s down bad and she fr ain’t getting up. Left you guys on a cliffhanger hehe. enjoy🤍🤍

01! playlist

"What do you want?" He says, the smallest glint of amusement on his face has Jungkook's stomach recoiling.

"The regular," Jungkook found himself saying, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "I don't have opioids. My supplier said there was a shortage—want to try some new shit?" Yoongi says as he balances his cigarette on his lips, looking into a cabin.

"You've tried snow before, right?" He looks up at Jungkook who stands there. "No, I told you l don't fuck with that shit," Jungkook shakes his head, putting his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans.

"It's on me, just try it," Yoongi hands Jungkook a small bag filled with white powder. "Just snort it and let it do its thing, boy," Yoongi chuckles as he watches Jungkook look down at the drug in his palm. "It won't kill you if that's what you're thinking," he continues, taking a drag from his cigarette before exhaling.

Jungkook's mind immediately goes to you as the words leave Yoongi's mouth.

“You’re going to kill yourself,” you scream, your hands pulling on your hair as Jungkook watches silently—his heart breaking as he sees the tear fall from your eye. Whatever he wants to say stays stuck in his throat.

“I’ll be fine,” Jungkook finds himself muttering, a loud scoff heard from you as you hold his face in your hands, making him look up at you. “Tell me what’s wrong, fuck! I’ll fix it, just tell me,” you cry out. Jungkook watches as your legs give out and you drop to the floor in front of him.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop, his heartbeat stops, and his mind goes blank. He wants to drop to his knees and beg you to not care and run away as far as you can from him, but the selfish part of him wants you to stay.

“Baby,” Jungkook slurs, the drugs in his system not letting him speak normally. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologizes again for the hundredth time in the past few days. Jungkook drops beside you, removing your hands from your face as another sob racks through your body. Your eyes red and puffy as tears continue to cascade down.

Jungkook knows nothing about love, but there’s you. The highlight of his days, the only reason he even wants to wake up in the morning.

He hates how he drags you along with him—in every bad decision he makes. Jungkook’s life hasn’t been easy; an abusive household isn’t something anybody wants, but he’s one of the unlucky ones who got it. He knows he’s a legal adult and can move out, but his feet stay glued inside that house because of her, his mom.

God. Jungkook has seen everything fucked up in the piece of shit he calls his house. The blows his mom would take from the man whose blood Jungkook carries. He wasn’t a father to him, that’s for sure. Screams and fighting are the only things his house is filled with. He never heard a bedtime story or got a good night hug. The hug was replaced by a hit on the cheek, jaw, face—or anywhere his dad could get his hands on.

Jungkook blames his dad for the way he is, and every time he looks at you, he imagines the what ifs. Jungkook has done everything he could do to push you away, but instead of leaving, you stayed. It’s scared the shit out of him.

He’s in love with you. Jungkook has never felt anything more in his life than his love for you—it’s almost pathetic how much you make him feel. If your love were a drug, Jungkook would do it every day, every hour, and every minute instead of all the shit he put in his system to forget.

Your love is pure and innocent—everything that Jungkook isn’t. Every time he looks at you, he’s afraid he will break you. He wishes you could realize how unfixable he is and leave—but instead, you’re on your knees begging for him to be better.

How badly did he want to be better; so he could be with you.

“Stop saying sorry and stop doing it, fuck,” you sob, your fist holding onto his hoodie—your knuckles turning white from fear that if you let him go, he’ll vanish.

“You’re better than this. I know you are,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, wetting his hoodie with your tears. “Please stop, you could die.” you beg desperately, like a child would.

“Shh,” he comforts, his hand rubbing your back as you sob into him, “I’m sorry.”

As Jungkook walked, the guilt inside him consumed him more and more. The hurt expression on your face after he disrespected you remained etched in his mind, feeling like someone was poking his heart with a needle with each step he took.

Similarly, the weight of the small bag in the pocket of his sweater sent a sense of panic through his body. He hadn’t planned on taking it, but the moment it was placed in his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to give it back. Instead, he bit his tongue and shoved it into his pocket.

His heart sank as an image flashed in his mind of what your reaction would be if you ever found out. With a shake of his head, he buried the thought deep within him before reaching the main door of his house.

Jungkook’s hand trembles as he holds onto the doorknob. He had nowhere else to go, it was either yours or this. He felt his throat close up as his mind went back to you, his heart screaming for you. To turn around and run back to you—like always, his safe space. The only place where he could let his guard down.

The aching sensation in his chest reminded him of the first time he told you about his dad. You were both seventeen—laying on the carpet of your room, staring up at the ceiling. The broken expression on your face after he confided in you made him feel worse than any hit he had ever taken.

“Did you seriously get into another fight?” you groaned as you examined his face, the purple and blue marks beginning to form twisting your stomach in knots. “Who was it this time?” you frowned, your hand reaching out to touch his bruised cheek.

“Didn’t fight anyone. I actually hit myself with the car door,” the lie flowed smoothly out of his mouth.

“A door?” You raised an eyebrow, not fully believing him. Jungkook had a tendency to throw the first punch after someone lightly touched him—he had more suspensions and run ins with the police than anyone could count. Every time you saw him, there was another bruise decorating his skin, always brushed off like it was no big deal.

“Who was it?” You tried again, your face turning to him.

Jungkook's eyes remained locked with the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. “I can’t tell you,” he mumbled softly into the darkness.

“Why not? Is it a secret?” You quipped, scooting closer to his side—your finger tracing his features as he let out a deep breath. “It’s a really big secret,” he hushed, to which you only nodded eagerly.

“I can keep a secret,” you smiled, your heart beating fast in your chest as you noticed the proximity between you two. You raised a pinky into the air. “Pinky promise,” you bit your lip anxiously, watching him interlock his pinky with yours. “Okay, now tell me.”

“My dad,” he said, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“What?” You stuttered out, hoping you had heard him wrong.

“My dad, he's abusive,” he restated. The color drained from your face, and Jungkook saw it.

Sadness written all over your face. Words didn’t come out when you opened your mouth; instead, an ugly cry replaced the words.

“That’s why I can’t stand someone’s hands on me,” Jungkook says, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to escape the pain in his heart. It felt as if he was being kicked and thrown.

“Fuck.. I always touch you,” you bit your lip, trying to contain your sobs. “Your touch is the only touch that doesn’t repulse me, baby. So if you plan on not touching me, don’t,” Jungkook quickly interjected, grabbing your hand and intertwining it with his.

Jungkook loved your touch; your fingers on his skin felt like heaven. It almost confused him how much he looked forward to it—sometimes he found himself initiating it. You were the only exception with such privilege; anyone else who laid a finger on him sent a sense of nausea and shivers down his body.

“I didn’t know. I’m so fucking sorry, baby. Let me help you.. we can tell the police, he deserves to be in jail. Please,” you sobbed, placing your palm on his cheek.

“You think I don’t know he needs to go to jail? For all I know, he should be put on a electric chair,” Jungkook spat out, shoving your hand away from his face.

“And fuck. Yes, my mom knows. She fucking gets hit too,” he rambled, his chest heaving as he tried to look anywhere in your room that wasn’t you, and for the first time, you saw him break down.

As Jungkook crumbled down with a loud sob, his hands cover his face as his shoulders shake as he weeps, you wasted no time dropping to your knees and pulling him into you, whispering reassuring words in his ear.

"She doesn't leave," he cried. "I keep telling her he's going to kill her if she doesn't leave, but she stays." The cracks in his voice mirrored the cracks in your heart as you listened, feeling the weight of his pain, as the double meaning clicks in your head.

"And I can't leave. Who's going to protect her if I'm not there?" he sobbed quietly, his hands tightening around your waist. "I'm scared that if I leave for too long, I'll come back to a house with a dead body in it," he confessed, sending shivers down your spine.

"Baby," you cooed, tears streaming down your cheeks,

"we should tell the police. They'll help you. I promise."

But his response shattered your hopes.

"No," he croaked out, untangling himself from your embrace.

"Listen to me. If you even think about telling a policeman what I just told you, I swear to god yn, I will never fucking forgive you," Jungkook shook, his face contorted with pain and panic.

"I trust you enough to tell you, but I swear if you say anything about this to anyone, we're done. Whatever the fuck we have, it's done. I will never fucking forgive you."

Jungkook pushes the door open, and he’s met with silence. Without thinking twice, he rushes to his mom's room, slamming the door open to be met with her limp body on the bed.

His heart stops beating, and suddenly everything stops—his hand trembles as he makes his way to her. He nudges her once.

“Mom,” Jungkook calls, only to be met with silence.

“Mom,” he tries again. She stirs in her sleep.

“Jungkook?” She croaks, her voice hoarse as she peeks from her lying position. Jungkook's heart picks up again, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Mom, are you okay? What happened?” Jungkook asks, dropping beside her on the bed. His fingers move her dark hair off her face carefully, revealing a bruise on her cheek.

“He hit you again?” Jungkook lets out a growl, his fist tightening beside him.

“I made him mad. It’s not his fault,” she defends, almost automatically making Jungkook scoff. “Mom, that's not an excuse!” He grits his teeth.

“He isn’t a bad man, Jungkook. He's still your father,” she sighs, the look of tiredness clear on her face as she winces when she moves to her side. Jungkook watches dumbfounded.

“You know, you remind me of him,” she shakes out a laugh, the whole sentence feeling like a punch in the stomach for Jungkook. The more he tries to breathe, the more difficult it becomes. “He was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you—it’s like I’m seeing him. He is a good man underneath it all, Jungkook. You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” she continues, and every word feels like a hit in the gut.

“W-what do you mean.. I’m just like him?” Jungkook stutters, his throat drying up and the familiar feeling of tears picking up in his eyes have him clawing his nails into his palms.

“Do you think when I met your dad, he treated me wrong?” She finally locks eyes with Jungkook. The light in her eyes she once had is now gone, replaced with dull, tired eyes. “He was gentle with me, he was sweet, caring, he was everything to me. He’s still everything to me,” a tear rolls down her cheek, making Jungkook suck in a breath.

“What about me?” Jungkook's voice cracks, the knot in his throat tightening as he watches his mom shake her head.

“Am I not everything to you, Mom?” Another tear falls, followed by more.

“It’s more complicated than you think, Jungkook,” she sighs. Jungkook feels his heart crack into a million pieces as he watches the woman who brought him into this life discard him.

“He’s going to kill you one day,” Jungkook speaks, wiping the tears from his eyes before clearing his voice. “He’s going to kill you, and you’re going to let it happen.”

“He wouldn’t do that to me,” she whispers into the silence.

“He wouldn’t?” A shocked laugh leaves Jungkook's lips as he can’t believe what he just heard. “He fucking wouldn’t? He fucking hits you? Aren’t you fucking scared that one day he throws the wrong punch?” Jungkook shouts, anger taking over.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” she snaps. “I’m your mother, and you don’t get to fucking talk to me like that.”

“Well, you’re a shitty mother. A good mother would put their child first. The only reason I’m still here is because of you!” Jungkook snaps back, his frustration growing stronger as he watches his mom stay motionless.

“I keep coming back because I’m scared he’ll kill you. But apparently, you don’t give a fuck,” he breathes out, his hand tugging on his hair—feeling almost manic at the lack of his mother's reaction.

“Every hit he took on me, you blamed it on me. When all I did was try to protect you. But you always choose him. So fucking next time he comes in through those doors and has his way with you, don’t come running or yelling my name to come and save you,” Jungkook spits out before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.

Jungkook's mind kept racing, never shutting up for a moment, allowing him to think. His brain was filled with repetitions of everything his mom just said. The words "he was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you-it's like I'm seeing him" kept getting repeated in his head over and over again without a break.

Screams of his mom asking for him to save her echoed in his brain, the weight of his guilt and the haunting memories that plagued his mind had Jungkook pulling out the small baggie from his sweater, moving to the small desk in his room.

Jungkook dropped the white powder on the surface, making a line. Without hesitation, Jungkook leaned over, pinching one of his nostrils before snorting.

A sharp burning, stinging sensation spread through Jungkook's nose as he sniffed, rubbing off the remaining powder.

Jungkook dropped onto his bed in a star position as he stared at the ceiling, the feeling of numbness taking over his body. His muscles relaxed as the drug entered his bloodstream, sending a sense of euphoria—a warm feeling spread throughout his body, making him groan in pleasure.

And for once, the voices finally stopped.

It was embarrassing how you found yourself looking for the man you were in love with every corner of the campus. You started with the lockers and hallways, peeking through every classroom, hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the boy who left you standing in your angel costume Saturday night.

You had debated on running after him; the guilt that weighed you down from the slap was intense. Your touch was supposed to be his only gateway, instead, you used it against him to hurt him the same way his dad does. As messed up as his words were, it didn’t compare.

“Have you seen Jungkook?” You ask, poking Dahlia on the shoulder. She turns to look at you, mouth filled with food as she nods without saying anything.

“You have?” Your eyebrow raises as she continues to nod eagerly.

“Y-yeah, he’s ou-outside, in the corner,” Dahlia finally says, swallowing her food. You throw a small ‘thank you’ and rush outside.

As you run to the corner where everybody meets up to smoke, you curse out loud as you trip on the crack of the pavement before changing your pace to walking instead.

Your eyes meet his in an instant as you pass the corner, the lit-up joint hanging from his lips. You look around to see Taehyung and Jimin with worried looks on their faces. As you walk closer to them, Jungkook passes the joint to his friend before crossing his arms in front of him, flexing his muscles. If you weren’t so mad at him, you would find it hot.

“What’s up, pretty,” Taehyung says, trying to break the awkward silence as he takes a hit off the joint before passing it to Jimin, who looks uncomfortable as hell.

“Hey,” you acknowledge them both, giving polite head nods before turning your attention to the boy in the middle, his eyes bloodshot red with a small grin decorating his handsome face.

“What’s so funny?” You snap, crossing your arms in front of you. A loud laugh slips out of his mouth, shocking the boys beside him. “Hi baby,” he says, his eyes dropping low as he moves closer to you. You push him away with a hand on his chest, making him pout.

“Rude,” he playfully scoffs, leaning back onto the wall and reaching for the blunt on Taehyung’s fingers as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“That’s enough,” you say, taking away the joint from Taehyung’s hand as Jungkook was about to reach for it.

“This is our cue to leave. Let’s go,” Taehyung hurries off, pulling on his blonde friends arm, before they both mutter something under their breaths as they disappear around the corner.

“Don’t throw that, it’s some good shit, and I just bought it,” Jungkook chuckles, reaching for it only for you to push him away.

“Alright then,” you pull the rolled-up paper up to your lips and take a drag. Jungkook's face drops, and suddenly nothing is funny. His hand immediately shoots up and yanks the joint out of your mouth before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook roars, watching you cough loudly as white smoke rushes out of your mouth.

“Fuck, what were you thinking?” He panics, rubbing a hand over your back to coax your coughing fit. Your throat and chest burn as you continue to cough.

“Don’t ever do that shit again, do you hear me? It’s not good for you,” Jungkook sighs, his rough hand drawing circles down your back as you finally calm down.

“So, you agree it’s not good for you?” You say, your voice hoarse from all the coughing. “Let’s not do this right now, yn,” he pulls on your arm as he walks you to the parking lot. “You never want to do anything,” you yank your arm from his grip. Jungkook takes a deep breath, trying his best not to snap at you.

“Just get in the car, baby,” he continues, opening the passenger door for you. Instead, you push him off and slam the door shut.

“You’re high as fuck; you can’t drive, asshole,” you snap, throwing your arms in the air in anger. “And you’re not?” he clenches his teeth. “I took one hit,” you shove a finger in his face.

“Yeah, a big-ass one. Before you know it, you’ll be high, so get in the fucking car or I’ll put you in it myself,” he snaps. “You wouldn’t dare,” you spit out, and before you know it, your ass is in the air as he hauls you over his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t?” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he opens the car door and sits you down on the seat, reaching for the seatbelt and strapping you in. “Where are you taking me?” You roll your eyes as he sits down beside you.

“To your fucking house,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot of the school and driving you home.

The whole car ride is filled with silence; neither of you decides to utter a word. The moment the car stops in front of your house, you hurriedly unbuckle your seatbelt and open your door before sprinting to your door, unlocking it, and disappearing inside. Jungkook almost screams into his hands, wanting to throw a whole tantrum in this car, but he decides otherwise.

With a loud sigh, he turns off the car, turns to the back seat, gets his sweater, and jumps out of the car. He takes the same route he always did when he showed up at your house, climbing himself over the picket fence before climbing the tree next to your window.

The window is opened as you sit on the ground of your room, your knees up to your chest. Jungkook throws his sweater in first before jumping in.

Then his heart dropped, your small hands hold the tiny bag that was in the pocket of his sweater that had fallen out.

“What’s this, Jungkook?” You voice out, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the wavering of your voice as you finally look up at him. His heart might just have been stabbed by your shocked expression, the betrayal and the pain etched in your expressions send a shooting pain in his heart.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking baby me! What the fuck is this?” You interrupt him, your hand shaking as you think of every possible drug that could be in the bag. Jungkook didn’t reply; the words suddenly died in his mouth.

“Is this a way of pushing me away?” You ask, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, mixing with your anger and heartbreak.

“Did something happen at home again? Why? Fuck, why?” You cry, a soul-crushing sob that comes out of you, which has Jungkook coming back to his senses. He feels like shit, and that word doesn’t even cover half of what he’s feeling.

“Please tell me why? I’ll do anything. Let me help you, just fucking stop doing this shit, baby.” You cry, pulling his body to yours, wrapping your arms around his waist, crying into his uniform.

“Use me, scream at me, tell me horrible shit if that helps. Just don’t ever touch any drugs, Jungkook. I don’t know what I would do if you died.” You whisper the last words as you sob into his arms, begging for him to stop. “I’m never leaving your side, so get that into your head. If this is your way of pushing me away, it won’t work.” You sob.

And that’s where everything clicks for Jungkook. His mind thinks back to his mom, “You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” and his heart drops to the ground. All the walls he took so long to build collapse. He was just like his dad—Jungkook wanted to say he wasn’t, but here he was, hurting you, making you sob into his arms, begging for him to change. The same thing his mom does anytime his father would get drunk.

“I’m not good for you,” Jungkook finally speaks, his hands cupping your face. “I’m not good for you.” He repeats, and you shake your head disapprovingly repeatedly. “Stop.” You cry, your tears wetting Jungkook's palms as he repeats the same thing over again.

“You deserve someone so much fucking better, baby,” Jungkook whispers, dropping his forehead to yours. “You deserve so much better than me. I can’t give you anything, baby, besides heartache and pain.” He continues as you repeat ‘no’ over and over again under your breath.

“Please don’t leave me,” you cry, as he untangles himself from you, pushing your hand away gently when you try to reach for him.

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t leave. Stay the night; we’ll talk about this in the morning.” That was the last thing Jungkook heard as he jumped out of the window and ran to his car, leaving his heart in the hands of the girl crying on the floor, praying for him to be safe.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ! 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—jjk men and the positions they fuck you in

featuring: gojo, toji, nanami, choso, geto

content: smut, praise, ass slapping, belly bulge, breeding, hair pulling, degradation, cervix touching mention n more

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨. Doggy style

There’s just something about having you on your hands and knees that Gojo loves. His hands on your hips as he pounded roughly into you, black blindfold covering his crazed eyes at the feeling of his thick cock thrusting into your sopping cunt.

You were moaning loudly, sweat coating your forehead as Gojo’s hips slammed onto your ass. His length grazing against your gummy walls before finding itself deep. You mewled. “Satoru, feels so good.” Whimpering shakily when you felt his tip pressing into your g spot, his heavy balls hitting your sensitive clit with each movement.

“Nnhg- ah, S-satoru,” you cried, your lips parting in heavy breaths and mewls as Gojo rutted into you like there was no tomorrow. A grin on his face when one hand reached up for your hair. Pulling your head up and forcing you to look at your slut out face in the mirror.

“Look at yourself.” he grinned, “such a pretty little slut f’me hmm?” Watching as you watched yourself with teary eyes. Your tits bouncing lewdly as you gripped the bed’s sheets harder. “Taking my cock so fucking well.” His large hand kneading at the flesh of your ass before landing his hand down onto it.

A choked cry escaping your mouth as you clenched down on him. Your eyes rolling back and your toes curling as Gojo molded your pussy on his cock. “Sa-tor— haah” you let out a moan when Gojo leaned down to press his back against yours.

The new found position allowing him to fuck you even deeper, heat filling your body at the building coil in your stomach. Gojo’s breath was hot on your ear when he groaned, “Come on slutty girl, make a mess on me, yeah?”

You nodded with a silent scream when Gojo’s hot tongue met your neck, his hand in your hair still forcing you to make eye contact with your reflection as you came undone. Your back arching deep and your body shaking as you gushed around his cock. A cocky smirk plastered on his face watching you squirt around him, his fast pace never slowing down.

“One more.”

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢. Full nelson

It started off as something he simply wanted to try, quickly becoming his favorite position to manhandle your body into when he wanted to use your pussy. Lifting you up onto him. Whether he was sitting or standing, bending your legs back onto his shoulders with his arms under your knees. Using your smaller body as his personal breeding fleshlight.

Forcing your pussy on and off his fat cock till you were crying at how deep he was. His tip almost pushing past your cervix entrance as he fucked you on him. Effortlessly using your wetness to stroke his dick.

“To-jiii— nngh, ‘s too much- you’re so deep,” you mewled, your cries shaky as the older man’s cock pierced your insides. Toji groaned with a smirk, bringing your hips flush down harshly onto his cock. The underside of your ass slamming against his hips as he messily fucked into you.

“Such a good pocket pussy for me.” he groaned, his veiny cock rubbing hard against your slippery walls. “Slutty pussy is so fucking tight.” he rasped, his deep voice hot in your ear making you clench down with a cry.

“Tojiii— ahh, ‘m cumming.” you sobbed, screaming out with a hiccup as pleasurable tears stained your cheeks. Your stomach tightening with the outline of the man’s tip bulging through. Toji thrusting up mercilessly into you with a grunt. “Go ahead. Fuck. Squeezing me so fucking tight, gonna break this pussy on my cock.”

His eyes dark as you fell apart. Your puffy eyes rolled back with loud sobs, your body spasming and your toes curling as you breathed heavily. Head falling back into Toji’s neck as you fell off the edge. Pussy gushing messily onto his still thrusting cock.

Toji grinned sadistically, “There we go. Hmm, think you can let out one more f’me?” Knowing very well he’d force one out of you even if you said no.

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢. Riding

Loves to have you ride him. Thinking you’re in charge as you moved your hips back and forth. Moaning and whimpering loudly as you simultaneously stimulated your clit near the base of his cock. You were so tired, you just couldn’t grind against that spot that you needed so bad.

“Kentooo— need your help, make me cum, please.” Nanami smiled teasingly, “My baby can’t make herself come on her own now can she?”

You let out a whine, eyes tearing up with a pout as you began to bounce on him. “Uh uh, need you Kento— please daddy.”

Nanami smiled, “My pleasure sweetheart.” Grabbing hold of your hips to still your rhythmless movements. Pressing a kiss to your lips before guiding your hips up and down his cock, thrusting roughly up into you making you cry out.

His dick fucking messily into your wet cunt, your mouth hung open in loud moans as he effortlessly slammed up into you just how you needed it. You mewled, “K-ken.. nnhg, Kento— haah, so good.”

Your whimpers were shaky as your boyfriend did all the work for you. His thick cock grazing harshly against your gummy walls as it stretched you out, stuffing your tight pussy to the max. “Daddy,” you breathed, your eyes rolling back as you felt yourself getting close.

Head fuzzy as you became a mess on him. Nanami’s large hand reaching up to grab your chin. “Look at me when you cum sweetheart.” Your glassy eyes meeting his as you fell apart, body trembling when Nanami helped you grind along his thighs.

A broken mewl leaving your mouth as you creamed his cock, clenching down on him with a string of moans.

Nanami grunted. “That’s it. Good girl, give me another one hmm?”

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨. Missionary

He’s a simple man. As long as he is able to touch you while looking at your pretty face then he’s happy. His hips rutting sloppily into you as he moaned and whined. His movements rough and fast as he got lost in the tight wetness of your slippery cunt.

His eyes filled with want, watching lovingly as you moaned his name. “You’re so t-tight baby— nnhg, feel so good around my cock,” he moaned. Pressing sloppy kisses all over your face with his hand kneading the soft flesh of your breasts. Leaning down to latch his hot tongue around your pert nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud with a groan.

“Baby,” Choso whined, “Sooo good— so tight, ahh- so wet.” Moaning loudly when your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging at fluffy black strands as his hips rolled into yours.

“Ch-oso— ah, choso baby. So good.” you cried out, your pussy clenching down hard onto him and your back arching. A shaky whimper leaving both your mouths when your eyes met. Your moans competing with his as you both reached your highs.

Touching as much of each other as you could. Your sweaty bodies pressed onto each other in a room filled with lewd noises.

“Chosoo—“ you mewled, “ ‘M close.”

Choso whimpered when you clenched down on his cock. “Mhm? Cum with me okay baby? Fuck— please cum with me.” he cried out, his thrusts becoming uncoordinated as you both let each other’s name slip past your lips. Moaning and whimpering into each other before you were both shaking.

“You there baby?” Choso mewled, “Please tell me you’re there.”

You nodded, “Uh huh— ahh, ‘m there baby.”

You’re both cumming after that, Choso’s eyes closed and his lips parted in short moans while your eyes rolled back in a silent scream. Gushing onto his cock as Choso bottomed out inside you, stilling his cock deep into your heat before spilling his warm cum.

Both of you panting hard as he fucked you through your high. Choso intoxicated at the way you were becoming stuffed full. “Don’t wanna stop yet baby. One more.”

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨. Cowgirl

Puts you on him in cowgirl position. Watching with a satisfied smirk as you rode him to orgasm. His hands behind his head against his headboard, his eyes swirling with lust as you bounced on his cock with the roll of your hips.

Whimpering loudly as your nails raked down his chest. Frothy ring of wetness forming at the base of his cock, your sopping pussy dripping down onto his thighs as you fucked yourself deep. Crying out shakily when you felt his rounded tip hitting rapidly into your gummy spot. The sensation making you throw back your head with a mewl.

“Suguru— nnhg, so good.” Your head falling back as you rut your hips desperately onto him, your pussy messily gushing onto his skin. “Sugu- ahh, Suguru,” your eyes glassed over with tears as your cunt was stuffed full of his girth.

Geto hummed, “Look at you, such a good little thing for me aren’t ya?” His smirk widening when you could only moan in response, tightening down on him as your body trembled.

“Suguru. ‘M so close.” you mewled, your breathing heavy with your movements becoming uncoordinated. Digging your nails past the barrier of his skin as your back arched, a string of cries falling past your swollen lips.

“Come on pretty,” he groaned, “doing so well, make a mess on my cock yeah?”

“H-haah, nnhg— sugu,” The coil in your stomach snapping as your eyes met your boyfriend’s with a shiver. Mewling loudly at the sight of his pierced lip between his teeth. His chest rising and falling as your cunt tightened.

“That’s it baby, let it out.”

His deep voice was enough to have you falling apart, messily creaming his cock.

“There we go, ‘m sure you can take one more. Don’t stop.”

[i-cant-sing]

Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:

Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.

But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.

I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.

You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.

By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.

Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:

Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)

Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)

I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam

What do you guys think?

Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)

[eightmakesonebraincell]

ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)

read hyung line here

genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)

length: 14.4k

c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingi’s au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression

a/n: i’m very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr 🙈🙉🙊 also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line 🥚 big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc it’s been a ship time ha ha 😬👍

taglist: at the end

san

pov: you run away with san and the cromer

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood

you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

you don’t notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent

you’re too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave

“it’s much safer if we go over the mountain. we’ll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizon”

your captain, taesung, doesn’t look at you when he answers over his shoulder, “it’s much quicker through the tunnels. we don’t have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the island”

“and what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as they’ve got the cave’s exit guarded”

you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that he’ll support your argument

only to find that he’s not there

he’s several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot

even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face

approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, “san?”

at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours

he looks terrified

san is lost in a distorted warp of visions

he can’t make sense of nor connect what he’s seeing

but there is blood

there’s so much blood

it’s everywhere

you’re there

it’s your blood

there’s someone screaming; raw with despair

he’s screaming

the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and it’s so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god you’re dying

you’re going to die

“san?” you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw

and san has to stop you from dying

his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings

he looks around with increasing franticness

he’s in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch you’re holding and the others shared amongst the crew

water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell

all his senses scream the same thing to him

it’s just like when you died

his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, “let’s listen to captain”

your eyebrows pinch together at san’s sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that you’re the only one who can hear his soft don’t argue with him

there’s something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly

you slip the hand that isn’t holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead

when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours

and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crew…and the depths of the cave

the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the cave’s floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it

your head is cushioned by san’s thigh, who’s seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch

he’s gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby

your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier

you want to ask him what’s wrong but there’s only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew

instead, you give his hand a squeeze

san’s smile fades a little and you wonder whether it’s the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt

his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze

he’s mouthing something, you realise

do you trust me?

you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance

with my life

the dimpled caverns return to san’s cheeks, and then he’s whispering to you softly, “sleep”

you don’t recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before you’re woken by a light shake to your shoulder

the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead

you’re met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening

there’s a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing

the cromer

as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet

quietly, he helps you up to your feet

the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response

you trust san with your life

so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within san’s while he retraces your steps from today

and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch

you both make a run for it

when you emerge out of the cave’s entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun

san tightens his hold on you and urges, “this way, love”

together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you can’t afford to rest near the cave

few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand

you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight

“san,” you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, “we should take a break”

he’s sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it

the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery

only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on

you know that he’s one for constant physical affection, but this…this feels different

it’s like he’s afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you

you turn to look at him

“san, what exactly is going on?”

he’s quiet

he doesn’t know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?

letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, “i saw you die in my arms”

you’re stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before

“was it…” you dare to ask, “was it going to happen in the cave?”

he nods, “i just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-”

“hey, hey, san. it’s okay, we’re not in the cave anymore,” you soothe, pressing your forehead to his

you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips

“yeah,” he sighs against you, “you’re right”

when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes

“why did you bring the cromer?”

if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you

but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if that’s what it will take

taesung isn’t stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions

san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, “i need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong and…i still don’t end up saving you”

“a safety net?” an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, “san? what are you not telling me?”

he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you

“i…i’ve used it before,” san finally admits, “i used the cromer to bring you back to life”

without thinking, you blurt, “it’s only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!”

“well, i did it.” he snaps, “you’re here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save you”

at his words, you soften

because san didn’t just see you die

he lived through seeing you die

you can’t even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms

“i’m sorry,” you apologise. “thank you for saving me, and for loving me”

san’s eyes are red when he looks at you, “i’m sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to process”

you shake your head with your own watery smile

“i’m alive, and i promise i’ll stay alive”

“and i promise i’ll keep you alive,” he nudges your cheek with a playful peck

you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, “what’s the plan now?”

“find a ship that’s willing to get us the hell out of here”

he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too

except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks

hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest

“shit, let me have a look,” san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his

he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince

it’s nothing too serious, but it’s deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm

the glow of the cromer pulses

“san,” you start when you see the cogs moving in his head

he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you

“i’m not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that we’ve done so far to get to here,” he quips

there’s only time to let out an exasperated sigh before he’s taking your good hand to turn the cromer together

your world goes white

the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, you’re still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest

san’s sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt

and your hand…

there’s no cut

your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm

san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him

“it worked,” you breathe out once you’re on your feet

“it worked!” san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug

the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer

in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt

you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention

you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon

“remember,” san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, “if anyone asks, i’m your husband and we’re travelling merchants”

you’re too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again

with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass

somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the ship’s destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier

when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further

he simply stares at the both of you and you think that he’s going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, “daeho. welcome aboard”

that’s how you and san find yourselves in the ship’s hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels

neither of you realise that you’re holding your breaths and it’s not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold

only when the shout of “anchors aweigh” is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies

because all that’s left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life

at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble

san teases, “sounds like someone needs a bit of food,” just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own

you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible

lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap

you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut

“oh fuck, what?” you hiss as you look into the crate again, “why the hell are there so many knives?”

san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his

the cut extends across your palm and there’s something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin

goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you

“san,” you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, “it’s the same cut”

his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in

because if it really is the same cut, then that means-

san’s attention suddenly shifts to behind you and that’s the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain

your world turns black.

there’s a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness

you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you

you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes

“san,” you shake him a little, “san, wake up”

his mouth tightens into a grimace as he’s slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice

“fuck…they hit hard,” he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, “are you hurt?”

you start to shake your head but then think better of it, “my head hurts like a bitch, but i’m okay”

san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you

you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” san repeats the apology into the crown of your head

you can’t do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter

a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound

that’s when you realise you’re no longer in the hold

you’re in a cell

the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls

damp from what exactly, you really don’t want to know

you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark

they squat in front of your bars

the sweet smile on daeho’s face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two

“did you have a good rest?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious

at san’s seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, “i just want the cromer”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” san glowers

the other man wriggles his fingers at san’s waist, “you’re not very good at hiding it in your shirt”

almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth

“why didn’t you just take it from us earlier,” you bite out

daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, “but then where’s the fun in that?”

he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars

“now give it to me,” he demands

san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer

he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daeho’s hand

as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of san’s grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it

except you’re not the only one who comes to the same conclusion

you see the exact moment the facade drops from daeho’s face and is replaced by his true derangement

the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move

but so do you

this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body

the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do

from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but it’s drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of san’s chest

san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow

but there is so much blood

it’s everywhere

the ground digs into his knees and he’s wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs because god you’re dying

and he’s suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought

did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?

or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?

the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything

“i love you,” you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be san’s

he shakes his head furiously, “shut up, you’re going to be fine”

your words come out effortfully, “please, i want to hear you say it one last time”

“fuck,” san buries his face in your shoulder, “i love you so, so much. i can’t live without you”

he pulls back heartbroken, “i can still change this”

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground

you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

mingi

pov: you're the crew's surgeon

you have all the time in the world to yourself

the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies

hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates

it’ll take about a week to arrive

and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties

which is a good thing, really

but it also means that you have a lot of time

and time is your worst enemy

time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths

you’re sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on

you think to yourself that it’s reassuring when you can see blood

because it’s visible, physical, and you can fix it

step one, rinse the area with clean water

step two, disinfect the wound

step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin

step four, suture as required for nastier injuries

step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten

there’s a procedure and it makes sense

but when it’s invisible, what do you do?

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

you may be the crew’s surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you can’t even fix yourself

the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin

it’s uncomfortable but you don’t move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate

you don’t think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist

and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice

it tells you that you’re still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain

that’s where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-

only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you

“oh, shit,” he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head

you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued

with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you

he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant

“can you carve me another dolphin?”

months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair

most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one

you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like it’s something valuable

“i already made you one,” you start

but he protests, “i lost him!”

you blink

nevermind. maybe not so valuable

“...you lost it?”

you’re not sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it’s forever gone to the void

“i lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?”

you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes

“fine, pass me the knife,” you finally relent

he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand

“are these my scalpels?!” you clutch them defensively to your chest. “mingi, i am not carving wood with these”

mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use

“you’re ridiculous,” you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you don’t really mean it

you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away

you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesn’t

he stays and asks you question after question about the carving

which part are you working on now?

how do you shape the tail?

what was the first thing you tried to carve?

if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?

and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening

…as mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat

it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts

and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock

he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures

he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin

but he won’t, because otherwise you’ll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so he’ll opt to keep it hidden

mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow

he’ll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side

what he won’t say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side

and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then he’ll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals

but that’s tomorrow

for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesn’t seem quite as hard to exist anymore

because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers

you don’t have another bad day that week

technically, they’re all still bad days, but they aren’t as bad

but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor

of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured

you’re not even sad

you’re just…hollow

and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way

being up in the crow’s nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town

their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you

instead, you had offered to take over yeosang’s lookout duties so that he could go to the town’s tavern

you’ve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals

it knows that you probably won’t be eating dinner either

“y/n,” a voice calls out to you from the deck, “are you not going into town?”

you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingi’s small form, his head craned upwards in your direction

“lookout duties,” you simply say

but mingi calls your bluff

“the whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captain’s still on board to make sure our ship doesn’t catch on fire or some shit, don’t worry”

when you still don’t make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet

“heavens, okay, i’m coming down”

he’s banned from rigging duties for a reason

when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself

he asks, “can we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuff”

“since when did you like seafood?”

“always?”

mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide

he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side

almost like he knows you’re feeling more fragile than usual

you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area

when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster

“mingi, what-?” you break out into an astounded laugh

you can’t even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like he’s bought enough food to feed half your crew

he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself

and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate

…before placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you

“eat,” he encourages

mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you

but he can’t help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite

it tastes good

shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when you’re sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning

by the time you’ve swallowed, there’s already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating

mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite

the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingi’s plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you

and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky

because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands

the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked

the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean

you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind

your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side

no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you

you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but it’s all you can really manage to do

it’s hard for you to talk today

but he already knows that

“can i tell you a story?” mingi isn’t really asking you

without waiting for a response he knows you can’t give, he starts to talk

“i don’t think i’ve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that night”

he has told you this story before

more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised

mingi knows he’s told you this story before

but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you don’t disappear with the wind

(“did you know that yunho’s chest goes red when he screams in fright?”)

you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story

you want to laugh in harmony with mingi’s own rumbling sounds

except you can’t

it’s like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth

and mingi knows

but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen

and even if you don’t talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you

some things don’t need to be said - he understands either way

because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress that’s been made and that’s okay

after all…mingi’s been there before, too

the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume

the stock of fresh produce and meat won’t last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomach’s fill of food and alcohol

someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around

the air is chilly but it’s crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs

where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay

and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music

his voice is not like jongho’s, which is soulful, emotional and powerful

mingi’s voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved

he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover

you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment

and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day

because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them

maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you

when he’s confident that you’ll be able to accept his love

not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no

but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

but you have mingi and he is making one for you

it’s written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy

and even if it takes forever?

well

mingi’s got a huge fucking heart

and it’s all yours

wooyoung

pov: you find a stowaway on your ship

“we’re headed off course again”

“again?” you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows

yunho nods, sighing out his next words, “i can’t get a read on north. the needle keeps flickering”

you look at the compass that’s mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point

a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass you’ve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands

so you know for sure that it’s not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself

but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it

not when it’s one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea

“maybe we should ask him,” yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck

although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously

“you trust that person?”

yunho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s given us a reason to not trust him”

well

considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was ‘valuable’, you think that there’s plenty of reasons to not trust him

yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, “as in, since we’ve found him on board”

you close your eyes and exhale

admittedly, yunho has a point

and there’s been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck

you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck

“stowaway”

yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof

said man looks at you from where he’s helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness

the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back

but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, he’s gotten off scot-free

the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps

you jerk your head towards the helm, “help yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out what’s wrong with the compasses''

despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin

“of course, captain!”

you’re taken aback by his demeanour because you’re trying to find a reason to distrust him

but he’s not giving it to you

you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder

seonghwa nudges you from behind, “give him a little credit”

you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman

“keep me updated on the ship’s course”

yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway

“and thanks…wooyoung.”

you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you

because if he’s not giving you reasons to dislike him, then you’re going to ensure he doesn’t start giving you reasons to like him

except…wooyoung attacks when you least expect it

it’s the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass

his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route

honestly, he’s freakishly accurate to the point where it’s a little unsettling

at least that’s what you tell yourself

you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar

wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board

you don’t have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isn’t just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients

also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isn’t using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but you’re not about to admit that aloud

and that’s exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack

he attacks your heart with his cooking

granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef

he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire

mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that he’s usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight

the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together

you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising

“fucking hell, what did he put in this?”

wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle

realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, “i could eat this every day,” before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up

there’s a chorus of teasing oooh’s at your words and somebody sing-songs, “captain likes youuu-r cooking”

“i don’t,” you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument

but it’s him who comes to your defence

“it’s not my cooking, it’s just the spices that make a difference,” wooyoung insists

then he’s gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you

you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him he’s still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck

…not that you can recognise his laughter or anything

you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile

you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants

and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation

wooyoung’s potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe you’re just looking for excuses as to why you’re allowed to like him now

when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since you’d docked at vlasgar, you’re surprised to find that you’re not the only one still awake

“i’m going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?”

hongjoong shakes his head, “hwa’s gone out too, i’ll stay behind”

you pause, wondering whether it’d be rude if you didn’t extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering he’s literally two feet away

“what about you?” you end up offering

wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, “yeah, i’ll come with”

to your own surprise, you find that you’re not particularly disappointed by his response

the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together

you’re not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and you’re content to just listen

your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing

the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale

“my father never liked the taste of ale,” wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow

you note the use of past tense

“is he…still around?” you ask tentatively

he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest he’s been tonight, before he reveals, “he took his own life”

“oh, wooyoung,” you breathe out

he curls his hands around his mug, “it’s already been two years, but it still hurts”

in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his

your tone is bitter when you reply, “time doesn’t mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesn’t”

he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes

“have you also lost somebody?”

you nod at his question

“my parents,” you hesitate before adding, “their ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of light”

wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, “the one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?”

there’s not a single person who doesn’t know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight

he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief

you smile wistfully and he returns it

“well now that we’ve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?” you half-joke

wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too

“i’m being chased by a lunatic who’s out for my blood,” he deadpans

“that would have been nice to know before i let you join my crew”

wooyoung grins wickedly, “i’m part of your crew?”

“i’m definitely rethinking it,” you banter before you add on seriously, “only if you want to be”

he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, “it would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crew’s service!”

“shut the fuck up!” you hiss in embarrassment, but there’s no bite to your words and you’re laughing into your own hands

you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, “let’s head back, shall we?”

“yeah,” he gives you a dazzling smile

he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together

just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoung’s shoulder harshly

your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word

“what’s his problem,” you mutter angrily. “are you okay?”

wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse

as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter

the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and there’s a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods

even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering it’s the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less

there’s an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table

you’re drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you don’t know

the woman’s head is covered by a dusty shawl but you don’t miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach

you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table

a frown adorns your face when you notice there’s something strange about all of them

like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your ship’s helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself

you let out a little scoff of disbelief, “they’re all useless”

with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off

but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, “the only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearby”

unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, “what do you mean by something better?”

a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesn’t want to let you in on

“true north”

her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that you’re wasting your time

she doesn’t say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did

wooyoung hurries to catch up to you

as he falls into step with you, he asks, “do you believe what she’s saying?”

“of course not, it doesn’t make any sense,” you glance at the tavern you’re walking past, telling you that the port is close now. “how can you have true north?”

wooyoung’s brows knit together, “well, there’s that old legend that says true north isn’t actually a direction, but a-”

he’s cut off by an amused voice behind you both

“so it really is you…jung wooyoung”

when you turn around, you’re met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy

it’s evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoung’s face loses its colour, they’re acquainted in a bad way

immediately, your hackles are raised

the man’s tone is saccharine as he continues, “when one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didn’t believe him”

“what do you want?” you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, “it’s the lunatic. jang hyunsoo”

hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, “i want him. dead.”

your face darkens, unwilling to back down, “and why are you so intent on killing him?”

“oh?” he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. “you must not know who he truly is”

sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, “i don’t care who the fuck he is. he’s my crew member and that’s all that ma-”

“he’s the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceans’ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true north”

those two words again

you don’t understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea of…

suddenly, you remember.

legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earth’s axis, but a person

a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters

he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements

the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long

human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing

however, this does not go unpunished

the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-

your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend

wooyoung interrupts

“if you kill me, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive the consequences,” he tries to reason with the other. “just have a look at how close we are to sea”

you’re lost but hyunsoo sneers, “it’s not your power that i’m hungry for. it’s only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my family”

at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, “what the fuck do you think you’re saying”

“how do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,” hyunsoo’s expression becomes hauntingly blank, “what happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?”

your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, “...a tidal wave”

“yes,” he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, “because true north - my father - was killed”

as were your parents by extension of the consequences

“killed by my father,” wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself

one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, “y/n…your parents…”

without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him

“wooyoung,” you warn, “it’s not your fault”

because you see it

the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the man’s own life

wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else

you step in front of him, knife raised in protection

because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart

“what are you doing?” he tries to tug you behind him

there’s a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, “stowaway, you’ve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckin’ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sail”

“how touching,” hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, “looks like i’ll just have to kill the both of you”

you don’t stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight

because if you’re prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you

tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying

the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet

you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that they’re watching over you both

and indeed they are

they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern

hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough

now.

as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your hearts’ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction

your needle at wooyoung; wooyoung’s needle at you

because compasses will always point at true north and that’s exactly what you are to him and him to you

each other’s true north

jongho

pov: you're a mermaid who saves him

you follow the shadow of the ship’s hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters

you know that you shouldn’t be following so closely but it’s hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms

there’s a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking

and if you’re really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and you’ll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects

besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather

you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret won’t change anything about your current situation

you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net you’re trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the ship’s hull, until it levels with the gunwale

there’s someone standing there waiting

his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth

the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists

you are at his complete mercy

he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word

“please”

immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net

there’s another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you can’t make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, you’re seconds away from being discovered

“come on, come on, come on,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth

there’s a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger

he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste

but even then, he does not stop or falter

and then you hear it

the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net

you plummet into the ocean

and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boy’s wide eyes peering over the ship’s edge as he watches you fall

jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him

he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision

overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further

he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again

he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast

one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes

it’s difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but it’s fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as it’s battered by the swells of the sea

he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that it’s free

except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips

by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch

he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones

instead, he plummets into the ocean

and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail

your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance

for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon

but then you see it - see him

apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before

and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home

there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting

it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence

you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water

as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean

in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels

and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings

you gingerly swim closer

when you wrap your arm around the man’s limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips

you’re reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy

and so you swim.

the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath

he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions

the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears

when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-

and bearings

the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what he’s doing

there was the storm

the tangled sail

him climbing up the riggings

falling down, down, down

and then…

you

your eyes widen when the man’s unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him

instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you

but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere

it’s hard to forget when he’s kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again

he can’t believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour

but he guesses that’s what people call fate - an alignment of miracles

he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove

you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something

he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern

it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters

the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland

you wait, trying to gauge his actions

but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore

you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shoreline’s sand from how close you get

and then you see it

a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells

a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like

you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation

jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove

he’s tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust

but he can’t help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand

…only to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen

he tries not to feel disappointed

after all, you have no reason to trust him

so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat

when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state

but it’s unmistakable when he walks closer

gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells

in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle

a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need

jongho doesn’t know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face

you tell yourself it’s purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning

you’re well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human

how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?

their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control

quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken ships…

and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike

it’s ironic

no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom

side by side

jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs

he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesn’t want to risk using anything that could hurt you

so he resorts to using his bare hands

you’ve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something

you’re not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach

for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesn’t seem intimidating at all

so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him

jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid he’ll scare you away

he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once

he’s reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness

“hi,” he breathes out softly, “i’m jongho”

your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles

you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops

if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling

you want to hear it again

jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the water’s surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands

he’s a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth

the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it

he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time

he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish

so he fumbles through his words when he asks, “would you like to eat with me? unless…” he trails off, “unless you don’t eat fish because…”

are mermaids technically fish?

did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?

before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod

jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet

as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him

whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body

but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so

and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display

your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements

he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you

jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you

and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice

“why are you staring?”

your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour

his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind

“if your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?”

for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter

a pretty blush settles over the round of jongho’s cheeks and then he is also laughing with you

together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air

his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night

but the dangerous thing about a siren’s song is that you don’t realise you’ve become captivated…

until it’s too late

you’re looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove

it’s cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side

you’ve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know

you don’t notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until it’s almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it

except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock

it doesn’t puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater

so then, why?

you look down and your heart drops

tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus

you realise it’s not a trick of the lighting or the water

your scales have started to lose their shimmer

jongho is beginning to think that you won’t show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes

(you weren’t going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if you’re the only one who knows it’s a goodbye)

“what’s that?” he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in

you uncurl your fingers with a shrug

“it’s a comb,” he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, “made out of animal bone, i think”

you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, “what’s a comb?”

jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down

“you run it through your hair to untangle it”

he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face

“i can…show you how to use it…if you want?” he offers

just once, you’ll allow yourself to get close to him just this once

when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you

you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck

he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair

his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot

his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebody’s hair before

you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body

“are you feeling okay?” jongho’s voice sounds even more alluring when it’s right next to your ear and you can’t help but shudder this time. “you seem paler than usual”

he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better

you try to formulate an answer, “i…”

i think i’m in love with you

of course, you would never tell him that

but before you can tell him that you’re fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand that’s still resting on your waist

a scar

“is that- how did you get this?”

you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger

as you’re suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly

“i cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing net”

your gaze is unfocused as you process the information

the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail

because what you didn’t know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time

years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense

you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again

but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to

they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled

and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho

“why is your tail turning grey?” the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic

you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body

yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified

your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it won’t be long until that’s exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving

“y/n! why is your tail grey?!” jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response

you can’t- won’t die in front of him

your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as you’re forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms

jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because he’s not sure what’s happening and he doesn’t know what he can do for you and you look like you’re in pain but he doesn’t know why-

“don’t!” you bark out sharply

he freezes in shock

you’re frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, but…

you could never yell at jongho

with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, “don’t look for me”

and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jongho’s lips, you drag yourself back into the water

except a few metres after you’ve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens

you. cannot. breathe.

you’re drowning.

jongho doesn’t care if you’ll hate him forever, doesn’t care if this is the last time you’ll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone

his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise

he dives into the water after you

the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense

jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you

your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching

he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest

you’re limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth

jongho will not let you die

lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours

a kiss of life- 

he closes his eyes

-and love

but you don’t respond

jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath

instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder

and then he feels it

he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his

with renewed vigour, you’re sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss

below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again

your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jongho’s face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow

you can move again

you flick your tail, jongho’s arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the water’s surface with spluttering breaths

he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now

“jongho, you-”

he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter

“your tail!” he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes

“yeah…” voice muted as you process the fact that you’re still alive, “my tail…”

“fuck, you scared me”

jongho’s eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they aren’t just red from the irritation of salt water

you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, “sorry…i scared me, too”

he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly

“don’t ever do that again”

the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but it’s deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly

it’s the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact

where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love

“i won’t,” you promise

on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man

a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after

but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid

a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after

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