#and of course wolf in sheep’s clothing light

[spiraling-trap]

wolf and sheep lahligh

i wanna make these into charms

[konigsblog]

wolf!könig dressing up as a sheep to trick sheep!reader. the whole wolf in sheep's clothing idea :(( 🐑

i got a request similar to this, but i think i might've accidentally deleted it. :( so here's my thots on the request, or at least what i can remember from it... 🙁

tw/cw: manipulation, non-con/dub-con, hybrid fucking, monster fucking, teasing, forced impregnating. dead dove: do not eat

he's had his eyes on you. drool dripping from his mouth as he bares his teeth at you from afar. he can't seem to control the way his lengthy cock hardens, twitching at the sight of a little sheep from afar. only a thin pair of light blue, cotton panties covers your body, leaving you vulnerable in the eye's of könig.

so instead, he dressed as a sheep. of course, he had to kill off one of the sheep in the farm for his costume, so he could trick the dumb, ditzy sheep into getting close. slowly, he approached you. he watched as you chewed on the grass, too stupid to realise he approaching you. he's surprised at your naivety; how easy it was to lead you away from the farm, into the woods, so he could push your head down into the leaves and branches and rape you brutally.

he listened to the soft squeals and whimpers, his claws digging into your soft skin, getting tangled in your curly fur as he pounded into you. your cunt drooled around him instinctively. of course, you didn't want this — none of it. but, god, your body betrayed you and reacted regardless of your fear and tears, causing you to squirt and cum all down his meaty shaft. the sight of könig was beyond terrifying, finally coming to the realisation that this wasn't another sheep, but your biggest fear, taking advantage of your stupidity and vulnerability.

wolf!könig dug his sharp canines into your soft neck, growling and snarling at you for wriggling and squirming, all while humping his bulbous, aching cock over your cunt, between your slick folds and against your sensitive, needy clit.

[trashmouth-richie]

older! eddie x fem! reader

summary: when your bf skips town /‘s you can’t pay your rent, you put on your best outfit and knock on your landlord’s door begging for forgiveness

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the Eddie edit

w/c: 3.8k

t/w: 18+ ONLY —heavy smut, degrading, hair pulling, mouth fucking, choking, edging, switch!, daddy!kink

He was an asshole to extraordinary proportions. A life full of mold covered lemons would do that to a person. You were nervous, to approach him. But something told you he’d hear you out— listen to you. Maybe even be sympathetic to your pleads.

Yeah right.

As if he were made of anything but pure hatred. Toxicity swirled in his veins, his poisoned skin covered by decades worth of tattoos; all dark and sharp edged.

His peppered scruff balanced out his naturally soft eyes. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A scowl that would make any resident of Forest Hills Trailer Park think twice about crossing. But you were left with no choice. When Trey had ditched town with the human bicycle Chrissy Cunningham, you were short on rent. Bills were tight, and you often ate in the dark, or by candle light. Anything to save a bit of money.

And that’s what led you here. Standing at your landlord’s door. Putting on an extra swipe of lipgloss, making sure to curl your hair, and wear a low cut tank top, the only push up bra you owned, and some cheap lashes from the mall— you knocked politely on the sun faded door. Hoping for some sort of a miracle that Mr. Munson would take pity on you.

One knock. Nothing.

Another. Still nothing.

It’s not until you are slapping your hand into the door that a voice behind you startles you nearly out of your too short skirt.

“What’d’ya need?” He’s covered in motor oil and grease, standing below you on the dirt and sparse grass covered ground, wiping his hands on a once red rag, a ring of sweat around his white tank top, bandana wrapped around his head, cigarette hanging gingerly from his slack lips.

He remembers the day you had moved in, it was freezing cold in early February. All by yourself, moving things one at a time in a shitty old Buick he hadn’t seen around since his high school days. He wanted to offer his help, something he didn’t give to anyone. But something about the way you smiled as he showed you around the dingy shithole of a trailer, voicing your opinions on what could be spruced up, made him hate you a little bit less.

Everyone in the park knew not to bother Eddie. He was a grumpy, mean son of a bitch and his patience was rail fucking thin. The Johnson’s dog went missing? No shit, he was the one who called animal control to come and pick it up, fucker had fleas and probably rabies. Can I paint the kitchen? Fuck no. The sink isn’t working at lot 8. Call a mechanic. And just for the annoyance he upped their rent $100.

Seeing you on his steps, dressed like that, sparkly tits, and your bra showing through your tank top had his dick twitching in his pants. Of course you were a smoke show, and he was honestly surprised to hear that ol’ what’s his face ran out on you with Chrissy Cuntingham. Her shit had been rode hard and put away wet more times that could be accounted for. Bitch still wore her homecoming tiara and had her green and orange pom poms in the back window of her car— despite the fact that graduation was more than 25 years ago. Worse than an alleycat, and smelling like one, Chrissy mostly kept herself busy by buying the minors alcohol or showing her many “party tricks” to the bachelors of the park. Sitting on his porch, smoking a joint like he did every night, Eddie took note of the black jeep that showed up every Thursday outside trailer 6, a graying head of suave douche boy hair could only be one person, Jason Carver.

He took note that your trailer, right next to his, was full of screaming and yelling when your boyfriend was home. A noise all too familiar in the trailer park, bouncing off Eddie’s ears like birds chirping.

But when he was gone? The window to your bedroom would be cracked open ever so slightly, propped open with the soft cover of Stephen King’s IT. The kitten purr of a vibrator and your delicate moans sang out to him. A siren amongst lonely fishermen, calling out to them in song of entrapment only to eat their souls, bodies never found amongst the dark sea bed. At first he thought it was wrong to listen, wrong to hear your pleasuring yourself, but he had sworn he heard his name on your lips, more than once. Fisting his cock angrily to your voice, your wet mouth, swollen lips from him sucking on them, pretty little pussy aching for him. He didn’t need playboys anymore when he had your face to imagine. And imagine he had.

What would your sweet pussy look like wrapped around his cock? Would you swallow his load down your throat if he asked, demanded you to? Sweet thing like you wouldn’t have to worry about anything if you were his. The choked laugh after he finishes all over his hand makes him shake his head at the idea. He didn’t know your age, old enough to be on your own but definitely not 45 like he was. Visions of your sugar plum tits bouncing in his face as you rode him on the itchy couch in his living room, lulled him to sleep most nights.

He saw a peek of a tattoo on your side when you were hanging clothes on the line. Your body drove him in, his eyes melting around your curves, the swell of your ass in the jean cut off shorts you wore. When you saw him staring you waved him over, a devilish grin on your lips, a wanting sparkle in your eye.

He knew your type, trouble. And oh fuck the trouble he would love to be in. He’d never volunteered to fix anyone's appliances. But your silky saccharine voice had him calling a mechanic in a few days time, would have been sooner if he could have tore his eyes away from your tanned legs, but he kept those extra days all to himself, whimpering at night with a sore cock your name on his breath. It had been seven months of you living next door, your vibrator turned on like clockwork every day your boyfriend left for work.

And now here you are. Looking at him with “fuck me” eyes and a glossy smile on your lips. Those same lips purring out pleasantries about how fuck face left you and you were needing an extension on rent. The swell of the summer sun hit your cheeks, making you glow like some love sick angel on his steps. He was fucked. And soon— you would be too.

“So what?” He tried to gamble, tried to keep his hard facade, “an extension and then what’s next? You’re gonna tell all your little friends that I give hand outs to the needy? Oh no doll, not today.”

He pushes his way around you and into his trailer, the pungent smell of too strong incense burns your nostrils as you hold the door from him shutting it.

“Please, Mr. Muns—.”

“Eddie,” he grumbles.

“Eddie, please— I’m begging you,” the glimmer of a tear welling in your eyes, your voice dipping low into an almost whisper as you made your way inside, shutting the door behind your back and feeling around for the lock, “I’ll do anything.”

Eyes dripping of sex appeal and lust, you tip your tongue to the center of your top lip, eyeing his tightened jeans and you swear you see his dick twitch beneath the stretched denim.

Cock at full alert he shakes his head, his head dipped low and eyeing you up and down, lip bit between his teeth. A low groan in his throat, he talks in a gritting whisper, “Don’t start something you can’t finish sweetheart.”

“Oh I plan on finishing, big boy,” you hum walking towards him, devilish grin planted on your lips, “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that, will we daddy?”

Fuck. Not even touching you yet and Eddie is rock hard, he could probably cum if you asked him to. Thanking a higher power that he wasn’t twenty anymore, he’s got years of stamina built under his worn leather belt. “You’re about to write a check your ass can’t cash doll, you sure this is what you want?”

“stop talking,” you breath, inches from his lips, he can taste the peach flavored lipgloss on his tongue, “and fuck me.”

Not needing any more of an okay than that, Eddie turns you around in a swift motion, a gasp escapes your lungs and he catches you before you stumble over your heels. He drags your hips down into him, your ass round and luscious on his stiffened length. He rips the neck of your tank top open exposing the mountainous swell of your chest and your cheap K-Mart bra. Pinching your laced nipples between his rough fingers, he rolls them like joints as his hot mouth assaults your neck, painting you, he sucks bruises into your neck, licking them better with tiny flicks of his satanic tongue and ending in a bite, marking you as his.

Pushing your ass into him you can feel his cock. His achingly girthy length has you soaking your panties, dripping wet just for him. His smokey smell is mixed with sweat as you angle your neck back against his shoulder, moaning into him as he sucks like a vampire into your neck. His stubble rubbing against your skin.

“Eddie,” you moan breathless into the humid air of his trailer.

He groans, your body pushed tight against him has his head spinning, drunk off your touch. Grabbing your skirt and yanking upward. Dripping in anticipation, your panties could be wrung out, your arousal pooling from the center and beading slowly to the ground. He hisses and hums when his finger first skates along the slick of your panties with a schlick, “fuck, all this for me doll?” He’s playing now, his thick fingers moving in lazy circles around your clit, your creamy pussy clenching desperately on nothing, you nod with a whimper.

“You gonna make all those pretty little noises I hear from your window once that dumbass you let fuck you leaves the house every day? Hmm? Didn’t think I could hear did you?” His cocky bravado kicks his cock up on your ass, sending a moan through your body as you rub deeper into him.

Quite the opposite actually

Purring into his neck you lick the expanse of skin he’s showcasing. Blowing hot on the slicked spit from your tongue, you rotate your hips to angle his fingers better on your clit, the sensitivity rolling like an electric current through your veins.

“I did it on purpose,” you confess breathlessly as Eddie’s fingers stop. “Watching you stare at me for months, I knew you’d touch yourself over me.”

Eddie groans gutturally twisting your body into the front door, back hitting the broken shades with a thud. In milliseconds he is on you, hot tongue lapping up your neck and biting with enough force to break skin. No time to be patient to have you undress for him, he shoves your skirt up tipping your panties clean off. Your exposed pussy shuddering with his blown breath on your slick core. His devilish eager tongue expertly licks and teases your clit. Humming with each jerk of your body as the sensitivity makes you squirm. Tongue wiggling inside of you like an eel, your hands are gripping his hair for dear life, yanking at the roots like you’re pulling weeds. Your thigh is on his shoulder, the leg on the ground begins to shake as your first orgasm rips like a tidal wave through you. Head thrown back against the door, moaning loud enough for the entire park to hear— you don’t care.

Your noises stir Eddie’s arousal even more. Whimpering as he grip him impossibly tighter he a broken, “fuck,” into your folds as he goes back for seconds, “you’re gonna get me into trouble, pussy so fucking sweet.” His lips are wet, your arrival shining like pretty lipgloss allover hos chin and lips. Already spent from the teasing and the damn breaking, Eddie hikes you up over his shoulder, your bare volumtuous ass bouncing with every step. He throws you onto a king sized bed, unmade and reeking of weed. Rolling papers on the night stand along with several lighters you aren’t given much time before Eddie kicks his jeans off, boxer briefs do him justice as his cock jumps to his belly when he unthreads his legs from them. Pearly beads of pre cup drip from the thick head.

Eddie leans forward and places a thick hand on your neck, your vision blurs and returns with each grip he threatens and releases his teeth biting your lips, slow drops of blood seep from his bites, he licks the wounds clean.

“Havent used rubbers since the 80’s and I won’t, so are you on the pill or are we ending this right now?”

“Pill,” you warble, chords of your neck strained against his hand.

“Thatta girl,” he praises, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “I’m gonna fill you up full with my cum you’ll be leaking it out for hours.. maybe days.”

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of his glorious pearly cum deep in your walls painting them pretty, “please daddy, I need it.”

Eddie grins, “so needy baby, you want this cock?” he asks, flicking it through your folds, a noise resembling macaroni and cheese is blasts from your core, he groans deep, “so fucking wet,” his lip is almost bit in half with how he’s trying to hide his excitement, “I’m gonna wreck this sweet pussy so you won’t be able to walk home.”

Whimpering like a bitch in heat, Eddie flips you over, angles your ass up, slapping each cheek hard enough a red hand print sized welt develops almost immediately, he pushes all of himself into you, bottoming out as you moan and cry thanking God in your head as you’re split open, a welcomed pain. Spit soaks his sheets from your mouth when he pulls out, “oh you can take it, honey, don’t fucking quit on me.”

“I’m n—,” gasping loudly when he spits harshly on your ass. Rubbing his thumb against the pink button. The new sensation brings color to your closed eyes, stars and shapes of all size float in your closed mind, your pussy clenched harder around Eddie as you whine his name.

“Yeah?” Eddie moans, “told you daddy would take care of you, that needle dick can’t make you feel like this can he?”

you try to choke out a ‘no’ but no noise comes out, your head is thrown back violently as Eddie grabs your hair in one hand and pounds mercilessly into you.

Eddie is grunting with each slap of his heavy sack against your clit, “this is what you came here for right? Bad girl can’t pay her rent so she came to fuck the owner in exchange?” His taunting only makes you wetter, makes you clench his harder as you come undone for the second time. Screaming his name until you’re breathless. Panting and sweating like you ran a marathon. He gives you one more deep thrust of his hips and watches you fall forward.

“Look at the mess you made you little whore,” Eddie spits, venom laced words on that glory filled tongue, as he drags you by your hair to look at his soaked cock, “lick it up, want you to know how fucking sweet you taste.”

Eddie flips you over like a rag doll, positioning you the way he wants. Head dangling off the mattress, Eddie groans as he jams his cock into your throat, holding it there and choking you simultaneously. He reached to the night stand and grabs a black small vibrator placing it on your clit. The vibrations make you moan and choke around his length and against his hand. Eyelids fluttering shut you’re positive you can’t breathe, just when you’re about to pass out he brings you back, letting you breathe for a few seconds, chuckling to himself as you enter the hazy bliss of intoxicating euphoria. Your body convulses under his. Begging for a third orgasm, you can taste the earthy tang of your release and Eddie’s pre cum mix on your tongue.

His girth fills your throat completely, barely leaving room for your own tongue in your mouth. He’s dripping sweat onto your own body you can feel it slip from your belly button down into the curve of your neck. Eddie's hair is swaying in conjuncture with his hips slamming home against your face. Using your mouth like his own fist has you soaking the sheets, clit over stimulated, a deep bruise settling inside the soft silk of your velvet folds. A bruise you’d wear proudly for weeks to come.

Slapping your face as you gag lightly, mind steadily focusing on the jerking of your legs and the vibrating pulse of your cunt. Eddie shushes you reassuring you, tauntingly “someone too big for their britches huh? Work through it, sweetheart— that’s it, fuck good girl,” he chokes a whimper down his own throat as your tongue swirls around him. “Christ, swallowing what I give you, such a good girl for daddy.” Eddie thrusts one more deep cant of his hips into your mouth groaning deeply when you hollow your cheeks. Letting you breathe freely.

“You like that? Like me using you like a worthless fucking toy?” Eddie lifts you up to his face by your hair, kissing your lips delicately, you nod and whimper as he harshly sucks and nips at your neck leaving purpling marks in his wake.

Unabashedly you scratch your long nails into his chest, leaving your own mark on him as he groans against your skin. “My turn,” you whisper as you crawl into a standing position in front of him. Kissing him sweetly and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, he whimpers at your touch. A tantalizing smile radiates across your lips. Eddie Munson a switch? Who knew? Pushing his shoulders backwards he falls on the bed, curtains of curls cascade around him and his face is turned up in shock then to a satanic grin.

Wiggling your tight skirt down your body you stand in only your heels.

“Fuck, you are a goddess.” Eddie groans, stroking his thick length in slow rhythmic motions as he stares at your body shamelessly, you climb towards him on his messy sheets between his legs your poor abused throat sore and bruised from his animalistic fucking.

His chest is littered with tattoos both old and new, faded and blown out lines mixed amongst sharp edged fresh ones stark against his pale skin. Blistering red lines decorate him from your nails earlier. Knees on either side of his hips you slot your pussy lips against his needy thick cock, sliding forward and back again, your hands on his chest for leverage. Leaning up on his elbows and moving you both backwards so he can rest his back against the headboard, he scants forward to kiss you but you push his forehead away dumbly.

Tsking and using few words to speak with a hoarse voice you whisper, “no touching.” Grinding your hips down into him, pocketing his cock in your slick folds like a sword in a sheath, you lick a stripe up his neck and land at this ear, your pretty moans singing to him like a demon seeking a naive victim. His hips jump with each roll of your own, desperate for relief he whimpers and whines as he’s close and you retreat. Starting all over again. After the third go around his bangs are stuck to his forehead, cheeks warm with a frustrated, worked up blush as you edge him again and again.

“Mmm’ fuck that’s a good cock daddy,” you moan as you come hard on his cock again making a mess yet again, he groans as you milk him for all he’s worth, your creamy pussy clenching against him, and your denial of his release is too much for him. “you wanna come for me?”

Eddie nods in spent anticipation, practically tearing up from being so worked up and being able to release himself. “Please— I can’t,” he groans, as you start grinding on him again, only this time you give in, hugging him in a pinky sheath of gummy walls and slick floors. “Christ,” he melts as you bounce atop his cock, dragging your hips backward and forward helping him hit the spot you so desperately craved from him. His thick hands are on your hips moving you to his liking, a pebbled nipple in his mouth makes you cry out his name as he pumps into you holding you still.

He slaps your ass, “I’m gonna come, shit, fuck!” He hums your name as hot ropes of his thick release coats your walls and floods out you don’t stop riding him, coaxing every last drop out of him until he’s hissing through his teeth as his softened length falls out of you, hot, reddened and aching.

Eddie pulls you to him, kissing your neck and scooting you both down the bed. “Think you’re my favorite tenant,” he laughs as you lay motionless on top of him, both breathing heavily.

“Jesus, I’d hope so, but maybe Miss Richard’s comes over here to get some money knocked off her rent,” you tease, tracing circles into his spotty chest hair, “heard she’s real pretty in her nightgown, just gotta be careful of her poligrip.”

He laughs again, smacking your ass, “you’re a fuckin’ brat y’know that?”

“And you’re a filthy fucker, quite the pair I’d say,” you spit before biting his chest.

Eddie yanks you by your hair to look you in the eyes, “not every day a pretty baby like you comes knocking on my door to rattle my cage and get free rent. But I’d like if you came over more often, that attitude needs adjusting.”

“oh really?” you question, hand under your chin like you’re bored as you roll your eyes, “and your old ass is gonna be the one to tame me huh?”

You spend a greater part of the night bent over Eddie’s knee, his studded belt in his hand as he whips you again and again. Tears spill from your eyes, and coat his thighs. Eddie’s sadistic ass only grins, a joint hanging limply from his lips, shushing you softly, “don’t cry honey, I told you your ass wouldn’t be able to cash that check.”

-

-

👅 I’m gonna go touch grass now

[youredreamingofroo]

On Repeat

// Click for HQ

Whew,,, I finally finished these! Thank you @elderwisp / @elksun / @living-undead / @dejasenti99 AND @yukikocloud FOR THE TAGS!!!! Holy wow :0

Tagging :

@circusjuney / @butteredfrogs / @mmonetsims / @flovoid

@birdietrait / @venriliz / @retrotrait / @mattodore

plus anyone else who wants to do this! Also feel free to ignore esp if you've alr done this, idk who has and hasn't im sorry 😭😭

// Extras under the cut - below is very long, so open w/ caution if you don't wanna scroll a lot 😭

This has taken the piss outta me (albeit fun), so i'm kinda just gonna explain how I think the featured line in particular is akin to the OC/Ship and not the entire song... as much as I'd love to 😭 Also it's just SUPER hard (for me) to find songs that I relate to my OCs, lyrics as well so skdjhnsjk

Roo's Song Oil & Water by Origami Button "When did I become like the ones I never thought I'd welcome in my home"

The above line in particular is quite literally Roo in the current story/character arc- He's looking at himself from a third person view and going "Oh. I am what I hate." He's looking at his old self, in college, and how he treated Leo, to now, looking at his present self and seeing the way he creeps on Leo, how he clings to him despite being several states over. Roo looks at the progression of his stalker-ish behavior, his obsession, how it went from just general clinginess that Leo could bear, to something completely unbearable after 7 years of no contact, it saddens him. So taking it quite literally, if he was at his own door and he knew how awful he was, he would slam the door on himself. A painful self reflection for him :')

Leo's Song Truth or Dare by Ricky Montgomery "Hiding in the closet, trying not to vomit, didn't even want it"

The entire first verse for this song can be applicable to Leo. As a teenager (15-16), Leo went HEAVY on drugs as a form of escapism from his parents, of course they'd always find him and get on his ass HARD for doing that shit. After a while of being sober, Leo started going to house parties, great idea- Flash forward to his third house party, and he finally cut his year long sober streak for drugs. as many as he could fit in his body. He had terrible influences around him so they encouraged him to do this shit, it didn't take long for his body to feel the god awful effects of taking so many drugs, so he ended up in the bathroom for a while- He tried to hold back the vomit because he was,,, partially enjoying his high, but he couldn't hold it back for long and ended up passing out, but not before nearly gutting himself from vomiting so much. Cut forward in time, and people got worried, bashed open the bathroom door and found Leo's unconscious body slumped over the toilet 🙃 Obv he came out fine, but it's a major moment in his life, because looking back on it, he realizes that wasn't what he wanted, he just wanted attention, he wanted to be cool, he wanted to be rebellious, but he didn't want to (nearly) kill himself. The render isn't one-to-one with the situation, but the lyrics are accurate so :3

Onia's Song Bloodstream by Soccer Mommy Scene used in render "Now a river runs red from my knuckles into the sink and there's a pale girl staring through the mirror at me"

Overall, the song talks about how the artist (Soccer Mommy) has lost her childhood innocence and how she wants to go back to her childhood and putting Onia's Sheep in Wolf's clothing motif aside, Onia misses being a child, and misses not knowing the pain and burden of being the complete opposite of what her parents wanted, so she spirals over this a lot, and like the lyrics say, "a river runs red from my knuckles into the sink," She tends to lean towards harming herself, in this case, her hands, and her knuckles- I can't draw or simulate blood in either blender or GIMP, so the red light is supposed to simulate the blood-sodden sink that she's standing over, and of course, "pale girl," is Onia, she's staring at herself, but additionally I like to think she's staring past the mirror, or staring through it (wink wink), she's spacing out and thinking about who she should've been, or who she could've been.

Hero's Song Following Eyes by Soccer Mommy "An awful feeling started creeping over me and what I saw was like no horror I had seen"

I'm keeping this short and sweet. It's not easy to find a song (that I like) that's about being haunted or cursed so. I had to re-use her song from her intro post, which isn't bad, but I did hope to find a new song kdsjhnsjk Anyways. Hero's cursed, pretty much anywhere she goes, she is forced to perceive ~the horrors~, sometimes she's forced into a blank space, a void (SOMETIMES,,, not a lot,,, rarely moreso), where she'll be tormented for who even knows how long, this moment in particular, she was walking along this catwalk in the dark, she eventually felt something that felt similar to someone dragging their fingers up your spine, in a moment of fear, she turned around and just. saw. She looked onto this,,, being, what she saw was "like no horror I had seen,,," Although to be fair, the creature isn't all that horrifying (which in my defense.. I'm a blender novice so </333)

The Hiraeth Song Nomu by Good Kid "Four eyes entwined draw four separate lines and none of them point to you"

I think this song overall is a perfect example of Roo and Leo's relationship both after Leo's confession and after Roo tried to reconnect with Leo. After Leo confessed, he tried to keep their relationship going, but it didn't work out, so he gave up (Roo didn't realize Leo was pulling such a weight and he just let their friendship fall out) After Roo tried to reconnect (aka the CURRENT storyline), Roo has been trying to keep things together and has been trying to make things work, but Leo has long-since given up on their friendship as a whole. Now in terms of the lyric above; Post-Confession, every conversation they had together would not be the same, they couldn't look each other in the eyes, their eyes would connect momentarily and separate almost immediately; Nowadays, if they WERE to be living together or near each other, they just would NOT be able to talk to each other, because Leo would be fed up with Roo and trying to avoid as much eye contact and general verbal+physical contact as possible with him. Roo, on the other hand, is just terrible with eye contact so he would have a terrible time trying to engage in eye contact with Leo.

The Ithanel / It's All Wrong Song From Eden by Hozier "Babe there's something broken about this but I might be hoping about this oh what a sin"

Ithuriel and Nanel's entire relationship is inherently toxic, they are not toxic to each other, but the underlying (or moreso, the OVERWHELMING OVERLYING) dangers of this relationship makes it toxic, broken in a way. Nanel risks her life going to see Ithuriel outside of work-related interactions and Ithuriel risks her life by just. seeing, talking to and loving Nanel. Whether they know (they do) or care (they dont) about these dangers, they still want this relationship, they live on, literal, prayers that they are not caught and that they can continue to love each other in peace, but overall, their relationship, in the eyes of the heavenly council (ehhh W.I.P term for IAW lore stuff), is a sin, and nothing but a sin.

Ithuriel's Song What You Mean by Rome Hero Foxes "Cause every little god damn thing you do makes me wanna get close to you"

The lyrics speak for themselves... Ithuriel is very dedicated to Nanel, and literally every waking moment of seeing and knowing Nanel drives Ithuriel up the walls because she loves her so much.

Nanel's Song Future Me Hates Me by The Beths "It's getting dangerous, I could get hurt, I know, I've counted up the cons, they far outweight the pros."

This is semi-foreshadowing, but Nanel knows that her and Ithuriel's relationship is forbidden, wrong (not cuz its gay necessarily,, 😭), and the way Ithuriel's heavenly role works means that their relationship status and every interaction outside of a required interaction is a risky game of one or both of them being punished and sentenced to death. But ! Nanel loves Ithuriel wayyyy too much to let how insanely dangerous their relationship is to get in the way of them loving and being with e/o.

Nirvana's Song 1999 by Beabadoobee "And I'm not wasting time again, closure instead of s^x, and I'm not wasting time again" Idk if I need to censor s^x but i am justttt in case...

Oof, Nirvana... Nirvana has always been sxually active, she's always had one-night-stands with other men, she's tried to continue things after that ONS, but it never works, she's tried to have relationships with women, but they just use her for s^x. She's tired of wasting time with people who just want her for her body, she's tired of s^x, she just wants, well, closure, she wants someone who will love her for her, she wants a relationship without s^x, or at least isn't s^x-focused, she just wants to know someone will love her past her body. Although aforementioned is all just a habit so she will unfortunately end up right back where she started and continue this uncomfortable and sad spiral.

[ourserendipity]

Shadows beneath dazzling lights

(Aventurine x Memokeeper! fem!reader)

Chatters of customers along with the clanging of champagne glasses were heard all around the casino as people wagered their bets on one another. It is suffice to say that Penacony truly is a place worth dreaming of: having to leisurely spend your time into the ravishing sights brought by the dreamscape, decorated by the illuminating towers of endless entertainment. And this night is no exception to the one and only Aventurine. He hums as he sips the glass full of tequila, relishing on the tingling pain as its aftertaste: maybe being a masochist was his thing after all, he thought. As far as he knows, nothing has yet to steal his full attention amongst the crowd of people all lathered in jewelries of gold and such, the feeling of familiarity and oddity clinging onto his back reminding him of so. Just then, as he takes a last sip on the glass, he felt a stray glance being shot to his position. 'And who might this be?' he thought to himself. Feeling enthralled by the idea of being sought by someone, it sent shivers down his spine as he eagerly gets up from the luxurious couch, ready to strike up a conversation and to hopefully make a deal with a new client friend.

You spun out your fingers at the empty glass, glancing on the blonde's position only to see him gone yet again. Seems like fate had played its tricks on you again, though not in the way you expected. Just when you were about to stand up, you were greeted by a familiar voice sitting right beside you. "Fancy seeing you here, miss memokeeper," Shit, you've been caught. " Silent as ever, huh? You sure do have ways to avoid such conflicts. Not that I would dare stir one in front of many right now," He smirks as he stares at the empty glass in your table.

"Two glasses of Cosmopolitan, please."

"Comin' right up sir!"

You stare at him in disbelief, gosh was he so sly for that one. Coughing, you briefly excuse yourself as you quickly motioned to the bartender. "No thanks, I'll have a French 75 instead"

"Ooh, quite the sharp one miss, I see. How about an icebreaker for that one? Pretty sure you don't want to embarrass this youn-"

"I said what I said," you spat out, glaring at the now smug Aventurine. He shrugs it off, silently telling the bartender to do his thing.

"Simply terrific of you. Why don't you wipe off that irk on your face and let's have a small talk, nothing fishy of course,"

"You can't even see my face, idiot."

"Ah, right. My apologies then, dear friend," he retorts, emphasizing the word 'friend'.

Silence. A long break of silence is heard between the two of you, both relishing in the awkward atmosphere lingering in the air. It may not seem like it, but you find yourself feeling a sense of peace while quietly observing the guy's figure. Sometimes, you do wonder what is up with him and his brain that piqued your interest. Was it the fact that he is a senior executive of the IPC? Maybe it was because he always seemed to win all of his games despite the odds? Or perhaps it was something about that sly and cunning facade of his? The mask he always wears in public, just like you do; in different ways that is. Whatever it is, you despise the fact that you somewhat feel pitiful around him, as if he was someone pretending who he was not meant to be, someone who is but a sheep in wolf's clothing always eager to engage in situations that would bring him thrill and adrenaline rushing through his veins. But sometimes, that pity of yours may just be in the right place at the right time.

"Excuse me ma'am and sir, I believe it's best that both of you leave this place. The bar is nearing its closing hours."

"You can leave the both of us if that's your concern. I'll rent this place for the night if that option's available"

"Sure thing sir! It's just that-"

"Dont worry, we'll make sure that we won't make any ruckus here," he chuckles, sliding some stack of freshly printed cash at the counter. Shocked by his sudden actions, the bartender takes the money and quickly leaves the place, flipping the open sign to close before fully leaving.

"You really had to do that, huh?" you sigh, shaking your head at what he did just now. Unbelievable, truly unbelievable how he could just waste his money just like that. "Why not? Thought that only two could play this kind of game?" he replies, a smirk forming on his lips.

"What kind of game you say?"

"It depends on you, miss memokeeper~"

"I'll pass."

"Aw shucks. And to think that you have something bothering you right now. Tell me, do childish games bore the likes of you? Shall I raise the stakes even higher?" he asks, ever so confident as usual.

"........."

"Ah there you are again, miss memokeeper. You're quite the kill-"

"No thanks. I'd rather have it done my way," you reply. Aventurine was so surprised to hear these words coming out of your mouth: it's usually the other way around, where he is the one always being cocky and bold. And just then as he was processing what had just happened...

"May I invite you for this... dance, Mr. Aventurine?" soft eyes meet his slightly shocked ones as you bow down, slowly placing his fingertips at the palm of your hands, leaving a soft and tender kiss on his gloved skin. There you are, standing in front of him, poised in all of your glory: body adorned with smooth silk cloth, decorated with luscious white pearls that resemble the many stars painted across the starry nights of the galaxy. Your head, crowned with an embroidered veil atop of your porcelain mask.

Oh Aeons, if he isn't already lucky enough this also happened, just when he needed something for a momentary break from his usual scheme. He ought to take this opportunity, for this is something only to be witnessed by one once in a blue moon. 'Thank Aeons I keep on winning my wagers' he muttered to himself, accepting your offer by returning the favor.

"My, my. I can't say that I would fully accept this bet of yours. But that wouldn't mean that I'd fully decline it either ~" he jokingly teases, all while standing up to meet you eye to eye.

"Either way, an offer is an offer. Regardless of its significance to you, just remember that I only take those that truly benefit me. One isn't willing to be on the losing end of every game, no?" he asks, his hands finding its way on your own.

"I'll consider that, mr. Aventurine," you hummed in response, eyes focused on his subtle movements. "However....." you look at his hands, then glance at yours.

"What is it miss memokeeper?"

"Isn't this position... a bit odd?" you question him, slightly disappointed and concerned at the same time. It seems that things are to turn awkward for the both of you yet again. He felt an awkward smile creep up to his smile upon realizing what he just did. He did not just.... Sighing, you gently let go of your hands around his to help him reposition his hands to the right place.

"This one... goes here. And the other goes... there. Perfect. Now it doesn't feel strange anymore," you replied, chuckling softly at his gesture. Repositioning both of your clasped hands on your side, you patiently wait for his response. Strangely enough, he only looked at you with a tender gaze, telling you that he is vulnerable comfortable enough to begin.

"What are you waiting for, miss memokeeper? The night is young and the game has just begun," Aventurine teases. It's not like he gets to see you like this everyday. Especially when you are always successful at avoiding his sights in broad daylight. Slowly but surely you sway your hips with him as you rock your entwined hands with him back and forth. The cold air breeze mixed with the intoxicating scent of his expensive perfume only made you feel more bolder as you tug his hands, telling him to follow your lead. It didn't help that the dim lights were making it hard for the both of you to see, but that didn't matter right now: what matters is the scene that is laid upon your very eyes, an alluring one. One that is worthy of keeping in the garden of recollection. Warm breaths fan over your neck as he brings his head down to you, putting your movement to a halt. It stayed like that for a while: Aventurine playing with the ends of your veil as he inhales your scent. Aeons was he truly dazed by your gracious beauty.

But somehow, just somehow, it would seem that empathy and pity would wash over the thrill of the moment as you unconsciously wander your hands along his back, making his body shriek a little. You let him do his own thing while you try to balance yourself, signaling to you that intoxication is starting to take its toll on your stature. It would look like that you were an emanator sent by an Aeon, and it quite is, giving how your glooming presence had taken him aback; you're going to be the death of him that's for sure.

"Tell me, does it feel suffocating?" you ask, hands lightly grazing all over his neck, looking at him with awe and concern.

"It's not like I have a say on that. I've been living on the edge long enough to blur the lines between breathing and suffocating." Aventurine replies, his breath hitching along his lines. It was obvious he was bottling up all this pent up emotions he could never truly express properly.

"....Is that so? Then.... Why don't you allow me?"

Amused by the sudden request, he chuckles at the idea. "Daring to try, I see. Remember, I don't play games with me on the losing end, friend."

"It is not a mere suggestion, Mr. IPC. It's an order," you retort monotonously, the tone of dominance lingering on your voice ever so slightly. It seems that you've got him trapped at his own game. Shrugging his shoulders, he willingly puts his hands up in the air, as if he's messing with you. "Alright alright, looks like you've caught me on that one. Do whatever you please, miss~" he responds with a sly smirk all over his face.

"............."

There is it again: the abhorrent silence quickly enveloping the dimly lit room. Only the thud of your footsteps were heard as you circle around his fragile figure, hands moving its way on his shoulder without breaking your eye contact with him. making it to his front, you slightly bow down, placing a kiss on his right hand you had just swiftly placed on the palm of your unoccupied hand. Standing up, you set yourselves in a sensual pace as you lead him to dance freely, still making sure that he was on the same tempo as you. Perfect, now's your chance to secretly pry unto his past in hopes of collecting new, unfound memories; all the while he was distracted by your moves.

Distraught by what's happening, Aventurine closes his eyes as you lead him senselessly. He expects you to use him in such ways one could not easily comprehend, but this is far better from what he had anticipated. Had he not let his guard down, this would have end up very differently. Still, he let it all happen at once, waiting for the right time to strike. And that's where it hit him: this was the perfect opportunity to flip you off your table to gain an upper hand. Just as you were about to spin, he swiftly cages you in his hands, giving him the time to clasp your hands with his while the other tightly grips onto your waist. Now it's his turn to dominate this friendly duel. It became harder for you to encapsulate his memories as he leads you in the heat of the battle: the pace turning faster and more intense. You try to break free from his grasp when you look at his eyes, gazing at you oh so tenderly. You can't help but look back at him with awe as your bodies twist and turn around each other.

"That's it, miss memokeeper. Look at me, look at me as if I were weak and pathetic. Gaze into my eyes and tell me what you see. Go ahead and strip me of everything I had, my past even, it's all yours; all yours" he whispers to you, as if he was begging.

Looking into his eyes dread of light, you tap onto the murky abyss that is his whole existence: the fall of his nation, his demise in the hands of the duke, all the constant suffering he had endured just to witness the sunset he had wished to see with his long lost sister. All of it, locked behind his eyes devoid of life. Somehow, it made you feel like you wanted, no, you needed to puke out. Such things should not be experienced by one, let alone at a young age. You feel the presence of IX gazing over you, having you on its chokehold, ready to end your existence simply by its sheer force of nothingness crushing over you; leaving you with no choice but to forcefully close your eyes in hopes of escaping death itself. You successfully escaped your fate of turning into nothing but dust. Doing so however, you also left the blonde man all alone in the dreamscape, isolated in his own world of thoughts processing what had just happened. He was all alone again, just like what he's used to.

It was truly strange how despite being in the path of preservation, the Aeon of nihility lurks over that man. Perhaps now is not the time to know the truth, but there is one thing you're very sure of: that there will be time where you'll meet him again. And whether it is in at the time of uncertainty or his demise even, you were certain that only fate itself would allow you to peek into his hollow eyes for one last time, hopefully keeping all what's left in him in his final moments.

(Totally not inspired by that acheswan animation from mihoyo themselves, no no 🫣🫣 Also aventurine's pov will be posted at some time ig)

[astyrial]

little lamb spencer reid x fem!reader (angst) synopsis: you are kidnapped by an unsub word count: 1.5k warnings: blood, kidnapping, torture, hurt/comfort masterlist | requests are open

    a finger slowly and steadily hovers above your skin, running from your chin to your collarbone. your hair stands on edge as he looks down towards you. the man has a wicked smile on his face, his lips curl only a little as he sees the fear resting in your eyes. 

  "pretty little lamb, tricked so easily by a wolf in sheep's clothing. couldn't you, of all people, see that i very clearly brought you into my trap? shouldn't the fbi be the best of the best? and yet you follow like sheep," he brutally laughs, the thick mucus building up in his throat quickly regurgitating. 

  your eyes look up at the man, meeting his own. he has rich brown eyes, nearly black, as the light fades from them. "oh, but obviously i chose you for a reason, can't you see? i chose you because they'd do anything to keep you safe. that spencer kid, yeah, i'm sure he's loving this."

  spencer... your lip quivers a little as you attempt to hold back any tears. your mind begins to race as to what he had said about the unsub. that he thrives on fear, he enjoys someone who fears him. that the man also has to have a military background, probably a father figure who served. 

  "you're a sick bastard," your jaw tightens in his direction, your lips no longer moving, your eyes attempting to hide the very real fear hidden within. 

  he laughs, raising his hand up to his forehead, "isn't that just great, you're trying to act like you're not scared? have i not put on enough theatrics for you people? not enough risk?"

  just out of your line of sight, the man grabs something. it doesn't leave much room for imagination as it sticks into your upper arm, a knife. it's a few inches deep into the skin and yet he feels the need to push it in a little farther. like the man yearns for the feeling of ending someone's life, like he is draining their life force.

  despite the strong will inside, an exasperated cry for help reverberates deep from your lungs. a laugh rings through your head, a rich and annoying laugh that imbeds itself. he pulls the knife out and watches as the blood seeps down your blouse. "are you finally getting it? that you can't hide your fear as well as you think you can."

  "fuck off," you swallow whatever phlegm built up in your mouth, your eyes meeting his. 

  a little spit hits his cheek, his eyes wide in amusement. everything you do can't stop the vile things he is already planning out in his head. "really? stupid little lamb. none of your friends? coworkers? what do you consider them? because if it's anything closer than coworkers, i'm sure they'll be crying at your funeral."

  no amount of training can prepare you for the expression on his face. no amount of an agent shouting at you that this moment is the moment that matters. no amount of textbooks that spencer sends to your office can prepare you for the feeling of a knife running along your thigh. 

  "you know how this goes, you've seen the tapes. how about you look up and give your last words. and makes sure they're nice, your boyfriend will be watching," he smiles, shrugging his shoulders as he adjusts a shoddy camera hooked up to a laptop. 

  of course you've thought of your last words, you're an fbi agent. you've been in comprising situations. however, you never thought it would realistically come. it never has and you thought retirement would've come quicker. "no," you shake your head, no long winded speech about justice, just no.

  "no? what do you mean no? you really have nothing to say to me? your friends? family? don't you wanna say anything?" he yells, the knife falling with his hand until it grazes your knee, taking a piece of skin with it. 

  you double over in the chair, your arms restricting you from moving forward much. your teeth clench hard against your lips and cause a little blood to fall. the unsub looks to you, his knife bloodied and dangerous. without much foresight, he hits the backend of it against your nose. 

  with the same hand, he uses his knuckle to hit your eye and eyebrow. the knife slicing your forehead as he does so. "you're all so stubborn. you know that?" the unsub breaths heavily, parts of his face twitching as he glared at you. "maybe this'll be the tape, i don't need you give some sob story."

  "yes you do," you cough up, ensuring that your word count stay small, "you need me to." 

  was goading the unsub your best choice? probably not. but from what you can remember is that this unsub is repetitive. he has traits similar to that of someone with obsessive compulsive disorder. he needs you to give a grand speech because that's what he's been taught. 

  "i do, little lamb? and how would you know, because some of your profiler friends know? they don't know me, but since you think they do, then tell me. how well do they know me?" he smiles, believing he had somehow tricked you into believing that this doesn't count.

  but every long winded speech counts. he just can't recognize it. "you're right, they don't know you," your eyebrows lower, your forehead creasing as you wait and watch as the unsub sighs. his thumb running along the edge of the knife's handle.

  he leans towards you, his eyes inches from yours, and truly it's the first time you've seen such lifeless eyes from a living person. the unsub takes the knife and plunges it into your stomach, your body lurching forwards at the impact. however, it doesn't do much but makes the wound feel even worse.

  the knife twists a little as he continues to stare right at your eyes, waiting for something. but the only thing the two of you can hear is a loud crashing noise. the man quickly pulls the knife out, causing blood to quickly pour from the spot. 

  "fbi! raise your hands mr. sanchez and drop the knife!" derek's voice coats your mind and released a wave of serotonin. suddenly adrenaline is not the only thing keeping you running. 

  "i'm in here!" you attempt to scream, however, it mainly comes out as a croak. your voice scratchy and losing most of its shape and tone. 

  the one and only person you wanted to see the most runs through the doorway. his fbi vest covers a sweater vest, his hands raised with a finger wrapped around the trigger of a gun. spencer.. your face instantly falls, tears piling up by your eyes, "spence."

  he lowers the gun, stuffing it into his holster as he runs over to you. spencer raises his hands up to your face, his fingers lingering by your eyes. his thumb runs along your cheeks as tears run down his own face. especially when he notices the blood covering your blouse and jeans. 

  "what happened? we have an ambulance here, an emt is making his way up as we speak. i should've been there with you, should've stopped him," spencer's eyes search the wounds on your body, making sure to unbound your hands. 

  you shake your head, your lip shaking as you can't find the words to answer his questions. a shiver runs along your arms, sending goosebumps down your body as spencer's hands press against your stomach. you wait for seconds, watching until the emt finally arrived. 

  "i'm jake, the emt. where have you been hurt?" he immediately opens his bag, his eyes looking between you and spencer. 

  spencer starts instructing him of the places he could find that seemed to have surpassed the skin. "thank you," you whisper to him as the emt patches up your stomach. the stitches running through your skin causes you hold onto spencer's hand, making sure to hold it tightly. 

  "you'll be okay, because i know you. you're strong, y/n. you survived this, that's what matters," spencer reaches his hands up to your cheeks again, smearing a little blood onto one of them. he stands up and kissing the top of your forehead. his lips are soft, yet slightly cracked from possible dehydration. 

  you look up at him, your head pounding from the loss of blood. and yet, the only thing you can think of is spencer. it's the best time to have your mind sidetracked, enamored with the love of your life instead of with the hasty stitches in your stomach. 

  "are you coming with to the hospital?" you question, your hand grabbing his, your eyes closing slowly as you start to feel the pain that the adrenaline can no longer hide. 

  "of course y/n, i would go to the ends of the earth with you. what's one hospital?" spencer smiles, bringing a little warmth to your evening. it may be to help you not realize just how freaked out he is, either way, his smile is exactly what you would've wanted to see last before passing out.

[wonwoosthetic]

Amour-Haine & Co. | Chapter 17 |

series masterlist

kpop masterlist

warnings – SMUT hehe, cursing, explicit fight scene at the beginning, mentions of blood and death

word count – 13k

A/N: for making you guys wait for way too long, I wanted to give you some more smut FINALLY🫶🏼 ˙ᵕ˙ of course, thank you for the continuous patience while I make my way through uni and tumblr and I hope you enjoy this series as we take it further and further <3

"We've been here once before, right?"

With one last huff, Shownu dropped the limp body of the man he had been punching only seconds ago. The white dress shirt now covered in blood, stuck to his body as he adjusted the sleeves. With the hand he had used to cause the damage surrounding him, he wiped his mouth and spat on the floor.

Bodies were scattered all over the club floor, which was usually filled with dancing feet and people drinking and celebrating. Only a few moments ago, music was playing, drinks were being shared, couples were making out, and just within a split second, everything stopped. And it all started with a woman and two men, that suddenly turned into an entire troupe with no trace of her.

The men of Monsta X stood at different points within the room, now looking at the mess they created. Heavy breathing filled the space, coughing coming from each corner. The lights were still dimmed, just like they would be on any other day, the soft red beams striking the walls.

"What the fuck just happened?!" The panicked voice of Changkyun, the newest and youngest member of Seoul's most notorious gang, echoed through the club.

With a low chuckle, the leader lifted his head, his eyes immediately scanning the men in front of him - the other group they had decided to trust merely a few weeks ago. All were breathing harshly, gazing at the ground in almost horror. Shownu's glare fixated on one person in particular.

"Yeah, Jeon." Wonwoo looked up, the cold look meeting his. "What the fuck just happened."

The SVT men's heads shot to the guy they considered their leader. The man that had brought them to where they were then and now. But he just gently shook his head, his palms open as he pointed with them to his surrounding.

"These are your enemies Son, not mine."

Shownu took one step closer, his leg lifting to cross the body ahead of him. "Then explain to me how they got in here. You really think I'd leave my doors open for my own enemies."

Everyone knew what he was indicating. They all knew it from the beginning. 

The whole vision of Monsta X and SVT working together came out of thin air almost. It was Wonwoo's idea. Of course, it was. He wanted to do right what his father did wrong. And number one on the list longer than his lifeline was to fix the relationship between the long-lasting rivalry between the Sons and the Jeons. What started off with a purely business idea had turned into gang work decades ago. Each leader brought their family into it, and if you were the son of said man, you would be the next in line to lead a future team. No questions. 

It had been Wonwoo's biggest nightmare. It had haunted him all throughout his childhood, up until the day he was officially assigned to the position he had been trying to avoid his entire life. But with a new generation came new connections and new leaders in line. Wonwoo had hoped Shownu would accept his offer and attempt to fix their families' rivalry instead of trying to bury each other six feet under.

It all had been going well up until that night because what goes around, comes around and Wonwoo had learned that the hard way.

"Look," he spoke up. "I don't know what you think of me, and I honestly don't care. But I couldn't give less of an interest in these guys when I was just trying to work with you, alright?" He tilted his head in a slightly demeaning way. "So maybe you should start looking for a wolf in sheep's clothing."

If the breathing of each man in the room hadn't been so unbearably loud, you would've felt the immediate change of atmosphere in the shared space. Wonwoo should've regretted the words he had just let fall from his lips, but he didn't. He couldn't. Mingyu dreaded getting closer to his leader, his best friend but knew better and stayed in the back, covering the other members he considered family.

Shownu's hands found their way into his pockets as he casually took a few more forward, his broad shoulders chilling along with with his body. His tongue glided over his teeth. "Are you trying to set me up against my own men?"

"I'm not trying to set you up against anyone. I'm only giving you possibilities." Wonwoo shrugged. He didn't budge. Not with each step the other leader got closer to him. Not even a little bit.

Shownu continued until the two men were nose to nose in front of each other, glaring into their souls. He gave the other man a quick up-and-down look before opening his mouth.

"Vernon." He got the attention of the, back then, youngest that had stayed back in a different room, only joining the other men once he heard the dead silence. "Start cleaning up the mess." Meaning the corpses on the floor. The blood splashes on the tiles would come later.

The youngster gulped, looking around the room, trying to lock eyes with one of his friends, begging for help, but all they did was copy his facial expression. Wonwoo's scoff reached their ear.

"Ehm," Vernon cleared his throat. He started nodding hesitantly, glancing at each body. "Yeah, yeah... I'll... do that." Just as he was about to bend down, his leader's deep voice bounced off the walls.

"Vernon," still staring at Shownu, no blink shared between them. "Don't you dare even lift a finger."

The older guy raised his left eyebrow. "Now, suddenly you're the one giving orders?"

"They listen to me. They're not one of your maids." Wonwoo spat back.

Shownu chuckled, looking around the room, almost finding humour in the situation. "And here I thought we would finally become one, but no, the Jeon ego just always gets in the way." Looking down at the floor, he kicked one of the bodies to give him more space. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. His glare fell back on Wonwoo. "You know, I had my doubts, Jeon. I really did. But here you waltzed in with your cute little entourage of businessmen wannabe gangsters, begging for forgiveness for all the shit your ancestors did, and I almost wanted to believe you. Almost. And then pull this shit here." He opened his arms widely, welcoming the mess around him.

"I said it before, I'll say it again. I have nothing to do with what happened here." SVT's leader pulled his sleeves up higher from where they fell down during his fight with one of the guys that attacked him in the scene that happened only a few minutes ago. "But you know," he took a deep breath, "It's always difficult trusting new people." His eyes fell on the newest and youngest addition of Monsta X. A person he considered a past friend, now long forgotten.

"And here you go doubting my men again." With quick strokes, Shownu was at arm's length of Wonwoo. "I'd better watch my mouth if I were you and want to keep living my life, Jeon. Or imma end it real quick for you."

Wonwoo casually put his hands into his pocket, sighing in boredom. "You can keep your trust issues to yourself, Son. I don't want to have anything to do with that."

Shownu squinted his eyes at the younger man before erupting in laughter, scaring not only the men on the other side but his own as well. Madness wasn't a level the leader had reached yet. But maybe the time had come. 

"You know, you truly are just like your father. Just... utterly intolerable.-"

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" Wonwoo's facial expression changed within less than a second. His eyes glared holes into the man in front of him, his mouth slightly agape.

A low chuckle shook Shownu's body. "First blind, and now he's also turning deaf," glancing at his members that joined in on the humourous reaction, before turning back to Wonwoo, who still kept his nose up high. "I said, you're exactly like your father. So you better bet-" And that's when the first fist flew. Wonwoo's knuckles clashed against the other man's jaw, a crack coming from the impact, but who got hurt more was unknown.

Shownu couldn't help but to stumbled back slightly, his fingers grazing over the burning bruise forming on his skin. He just had to chuckle.

"Struck a nerve?"

"I don't think I should be the one keeping my mouth shut."

Shownu straightened his back followed by cracking his neck by moving his head from side to side. "You really want to go separate ways like this?"

Wonwoo shrugged. "I think you'd enjoy that."

Monsta X's leader nodded, "Oh, you better I'm gonna enjoy this." Before crossing the floor to let his fist collide with Wonwoo's stomach. He was quick to catch himself from stumbling too much, reaching out to grab the man's collar, pulling him in closer, only to send him crashing against the bar counter.

That's all it took for the other men of the gang to go up against Wonwoo's group, running towards them individually, preparing themselves to follow their leaders into another fight when they had only just won one.

Minhyuk got a hold of Dokyeom, throwing him onto the floor quickly, but the younger man managed to pull him down with him. 

Kihyun didn't see Hoshi, who had snuck up behind him, his arm circling around his throat to cut off the air, causing the Monsta X member to choke loudly before knocking both of them back into the wall, earning a grunt from Hoshi.

Hyungwon got rid of his jacket to wrap it around Seungkwan's wrists skillfully, pulling the younger one closer to him and twisting his arms around to his back, getting a cry out of pain in return.

The grunt reached Mingyu's ear, making him run towards the duo, only to be stopped when Wonho bumped into him as S.Coups had punched his face, involving now also the tallest member even though he just wanted to get the second youngest of the group, who had now managed to free himself and turned the fight around. Changykun was close by when his eyes found his member fighting off the eldest and the tallest members of SVT, alerting him. He snatched a glass off one of the small tables, taking it along with him. Right as he showed up behind Mingyu, he smashed the glass against his head before getting a hold of his dress shirt and dragging him off his fellow member.

Wonwoo and Shownu had gotten their own space behind the bar, earning punch after punch from each other, interrupted by a few bottles being thrown or kicks to the legs.

Huffs, grunts, moans in pain, and cracking bones were the only sounds filling the club that usually only housed music and skin-against-skin slapping during sexual encounters.

If the space didn't already look messy enough from the party before, it now seemed more than just destroyed. Glass pieces decorated the floor and bodies, the suit jackets the men had worn before were scattered on different furniture and sticky fluids covered all possible surfaces.

Shownu managed to get a hold of Wonwoo's thick set of hair, holding his head up against his, his low voice ringing through his ear.

"You're a fucking rat, Jeon. Not a bit better than your father. You're the same asshole he was and will forever be exactly just that." With full force, he pushed the younger man's head against the bar countertop. He kept pressing down while Wonwoo wiggled around, trying to get out of the situation. He was about to kick back, hoping to hit his kneecap when the pressure against the side of his skull lifted. With a quick push, he was back up on his feed, watching what had happened. He found Vernon, standing behind Shownu, a pole in his hand, with which he must've hit the Monsta X leader as he was holding the back of his head, glaring at the youngest.

Wonwoo took the chance to snap off the metal hose that was connected to a beer chug underneath the counter. Just as Shownu was about to connect his fist with Vernon's face, SVT's leader wrapped the house around the older man's neck, pulling him up against his chest. Wonwoo tightened it as much as possible, hoping to knock the other man out when Shownu smacked his head back against Wonwoo's forehead, making him lose the grip on the hose. With a quick move, Shownu got a hold of the younger one's shirt and lifted him slightly, only to throw him over the bar counter. Wonwoo's back hit the floor, making him grunt out loud as he felt the tiniest splinters of glass boring his skin.

He knew he had to get up quickly, no matter how much pain he was in. His head was throbbing, there was a continuous ringing in his ear, and his glasses were God knows where at this point - he cursed whoever was up there for his terrible eyesight. He could feel the blood trickling down his back and hands as he got up, his jaw feeling swollen, and his left eye was almost glued together from the blood that had already started to dry out.

Shownu came around the corner, spitting out a tooth onto the floor as his gaze was back on his rival. He watched the man come back to his feet. The action made him chuckle.

"You better not die on my floor."

Wonwoo glared at him. "You wish. A Jeon's corpse in your club must be like Christmas to you."

His comment made Shownu smirk. "You know me too well." Before running up to the younger man again, raising his fist. Wonwoo was quick to react and duck out of the way, snatching a knife he saw earlier from the countertop, only to jam it into the older one's shoulder. He cried out in pain, stumbling forward as he tried to reach for it, but it was stuck in a place he couldn't reach. He turned around in anger, his face burning red. Shownu was met with a gun pointed directly at him. 

"Who would've thought Jeon Wonwoo carries a gun with him," he choked out, slight amusement concealing his voice.

Wonwoo shook his head, his breathing still harsh as he tried not to fall to the ground. "It's not mine."

That's when Shownu noticed the sudden silence in the room. Ahead of him was Seungkwan laying on the ground, Hyungwon right next to him, his own gun pointed at Wonwoo. Wonho was knocked out on the floor with S.Coups and Mingyu sitting on one of the blood-covered couches, Changkyun right underneath Mingyu's foot, begging for air.

Hoshi was coming closer to the leading duo, Kihyun's gun now in Hoshi's hands as he held it right against his rival's temple with his other arm tight around his throat.

Everything was quiet when a painful cough echoed through the room. Through a door, that was now flat on the floor, came Dokyeom crawling on his knees while Minhyuk pushed him further with his foot. Wonwoo locked eyes with his member, who glanced at his leader in despair and embarrassment. He nodded at the younger member to reassure him before directing his attention back to his rival.

The gun was still pointing directly at Shownu, who had decided to stay still on the floor, but he chuckled with a salty undertone.

"So you want a Son's corpse in this club?"

Wonwoo shook his head, lowering the gun in his hand. "I don't want you dead. I don't need any blood on my hands."

"Look around you. Look at what you did, Jeon." The Monsta X leader tried to trick him.

"These guys are passed out for good, but not dead." His statement earned him a look of confusion from Shownu, so he continued, "I teach my men how to fight. Not how to kill." He dropped the gun and threw it towards the leader on the floor before turning around, only to get stopped when the older man got up. He told the other members to lower their weapons with a quick hand move.

"You're still a rat." Wonwoo turned around one last time at the sudden comment. "I should've listened to my father. Don't trust a Jeon. Never trust a Jeon."

He got a nod from SVT's leader in return, who exchanged glances with his guys, making them stand up as Mingyu rushed over to help Dokyeom up from the floor.

With a quick glance at Shownu, he bid his goodbye. "Well. From now on, you won't have to anymore." And started walking towards the door, the other members in trail close behind him. He couldn't help but to let out the last comment that kept tickling his tongue before exiting through the front door. "You better start cleaning up the mess if you want the club to re-open tomorrow."

Outside, each man was finally able to breathe in the fresh air, sounding like men starved from breathing for a decade as they enjoyed the night breeze that struck their bruised skin. Wonwoo immediately started looking around for the youngest member. He quickly found his silhouette sitting on the side of the pavement, a cigarette dangling between his lips. Right next to him, was the limp body of the security guard that had let them in about two hours ago. The sight made the leader almost chuckle.

"How's the guy?" He asked the youngster, who had turned around, nudging his head towards the buff man on the floor.

Vernon puffed out the last bit of his cigarette. "Knocked out pretty good. He won't remember any of this in a few hours."

Wonwoo nodded, "Good," and patted the shoulder of the younger member, giving him a quick glance. "Well done."

"Thanks, boss."

-

Not even letting anyone else interrupt, the man, apparently called Shownu, continued right after he brushed off the two women on each side of him, followed by his colleagues doing the same thing. "I see you replaced your little entourage with something much much more beautiful. Hey." His eyes were fixed on your form, noticing how you had tried to hide half of your body behind the CEO's frame.

"I'm more important than her right now, Son," Wonwoo's deep voice sliced the room while you watched the women awkwardly jogging out of the room.

The other man scoffed, exchanging amused glances with his friends before locking eyes with you again. "Well, how dare you say something like that about such a beauty. What's your name, darling?"

"I swear-"

"You should've brought the other guys if you didn't want me to talk to her, Jeon." Shownu cut off Wonwoo right away. His legs were still wide, his back relaxed against the back of the couch, the other men in similar poses.

A low chuckle came from the one on the right. "He knew they wouldn't survive another visit."

"You weren't even here the last time, so shut your fucking mouth, Jooheon," Wonwoo snapped at him. He jumped up from the couch immediately, ready to rush over to the two of you, when his leader stopped him.

"Boys, boys, calm down." He stood up with a grunt, taking two steps forward. His right hand held onto the wrist of his other one, giving a clear stance of power as he gave you another look that ran up and down your body, shooting a cold shiver through your body. "I'm sure Sir Jeon Wonwoo right here is smarter than that, right? Like you said, it would just make a terrible mess, wouldn't it?"

Not getting a verbal answer in return, was enough for him to continue. "Well then." He clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "Let's not play around and cut to the chase, huh?" His eyes met Wonwoo's cold glare. "Why the fuck do I have your feet on my ground again? And more importantly-" Before bending down to the side slightly to find you. "What is a lady like you doing in a hellhouse like this?" 

Uncontrollably, you lifted your hand to touch Wonwoo's back, hooking your fingers into the small belt thing in the back of his suit jacket. Wonwoo knew better than to spit at Shownu again, but he could also feel the fear radiating off your body, making him change his stance just slightly, hoping it would go unnoticed by his rival. Of course, it didn't.

With a bright smile, the other man opposite you took a step to the side, extending his arm to point at the seating arrangement behind him.

"Please." All while keeping his eyes on you. You tried to look away, tried breaking the intense contact he held with you, but it seemed almost impossible.

In the first second, your brain didn't want to understand what he was proposing, but you quickly caught onto it, shaking your head softly in response. Opening your mouth, your voice seemed so much smaller than you had wanted to. It was bound to happen, in a room as big as that, surrounded by men with their physiques.

You gently raised a hand. "I... I'm good."

Shownu stood back straight, raising one eyebrow. "I wasn't asking, darling."

All while Wonwoo was unresponsive. No change in posture, no noticeable uneven breathing. Not even a clenched fist. It seemed as if he almost didn't care about his possible biggest rival inviting the woman behind him to come closer. You let your eyes travel to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of him looking down at you, letting you know what to do, but the CEO continued to keep his head up high, glaring at the man in front of the two of you.

With each passing second spent in unbearable silence, Shownu got more and more impatient, slowly but surely also rubbing off on the other men of his in the room as they sat forward, their arms resting on their upper thighs.

Deciding that keeping that man waiting any longer couldn't result in anything good, you dared to make your left foot step forward. You didn't even get to finish it before Wonwoo's body was quickly in front of you, hiding your entire frame behind his shoulders.

You heard Shownu sigh. "Move, Jeon."

He shook his head in return as his hand moved behind his back, showing you his palm. You were unsure if it was an act of courtesy or if he wanted you to place yours in his palm, so you just continued standing still. One glance behind you let you know that the security men were just as unamused about you two being there as the owners of the club.

"She has nothing to do with this. I'm here-"

"You know the rules, Won." A different voice suddenly spoke up. The man on the left side of the couch decided to speak up, using a nickname you hadn't even heard coming from Mingyu. Ever.

Noticing his fingertips moving, you looked down and found them extended as if waiting for something to hold onto. You hesitated at first but once you saw him clearly indicating you to place your hand in his, you did as asked. With one swift but surprising move, you were pulled right next to him, almost making you gasp. Looking up to your right, the side profile of the CEO glanced at you. You could see him eyeing you from the corner of his eye as he nodded, hoping to assure you of whatever was to come next. Your head turned to Shownu, who just kept a smug smile on his lips, eyeing you up and down the entire time. As if your outfit wasn't uncomfortable enough for you already, you now wished to rip it off your body and hide your figure in the biggest, longest, and thickest robe the world had ever seen.

With each step you took closer to the bad guy in the situation, your heart let you know just how bad of an idea it actually was. You had already had to let go of Wonwoo's hand, which you noticed only freed you hesitantly, keeping a tight grip on you until the very last second. There was one more step up separating you and the other men. While it did feel like a good and protective barrier, even though it would most definitely be the last thing keeping them away from you, you didn't get to appreciate it for as long as you would've liked to as a hand reached out for you. Looking up, you were once again met with brown eyes radiating anything but comfort. They were just as dark as Wonwoo's but yet so different. You had never been afraid of the man behind you, not even for a second. Intimated, of course, for obvious reasons, but his eyes always wrapped a cloak of comfort and protection around you while the two eyes now in front of you were clearly telling your body to run. Run and hide. Don't get closer. But you were very well aware that that wasn't an option at that moment.

Your shaky hand lifted to meet his palm, helping you up to the podium where you were now alone with the three men. Shownu's rough hands found their way to your hips, freezing your body even though they were much warmer than expected. He turned you around to face the room.

Now you understood where his confidence came from. Standing up there, you clearly felt more elevated than everyone else in the room. Better than anybody that even dared to enter this hole of a hell.

With a deep breath, you hoped to shake off the frightening feeling of the unknown as you glanced at Wonwoo, hoping to find some form of stability through him. He had hidden his hands in his pocket, carefully analyzing each man on the left and right, quickly regretting not coming up with a secret code between the two of you. He should've seen this coming. He knew the moment you'd step foot into that club, he was gonna lose the hold on you at some point, but he had prayed it wouldn't actually happen.

"Are you ready to listen to me now?" His voice was laced with slight annoyance. Shownu's hands left your hips, giving you time to breathe freely, but only for a second before you felt his hot breath against your ear. 

He extended one finger in Wonwoo's direction. "Let me enjoy this here first." 

You wanted to lock eyes with the man standing only a few feet away from you, but he didn't even dare. He had broken a promise he made to himself, and he couldn't even look at you. As annoyed as you wanted to be, the lips by the side of your head were too distracting, followed by the calloused fingertips running over your collarbone.

"Now onto you, beautiful," he whispered, making you close your eyes as you prayed to whoever was up there to just make it stop. "What's your name?"

"Y/N." You shot out. Of course, you could've lied. You should've lied. You noticed it quickly by Wonwoo's reaction, but in a fight-or-flight situation, lying wasn't going to be your strength.

He hummed into your ear, that almost sounded like a groan. His fingers danced around your shoulders, coming to a halt at the straps of your outfit. You wanted to call it a dress, but it was barely that. With one move, Shownu was suddenly behind you, his lips now close to your neck.

"You know, you're wearing quite the outfit here." His fingers hooked underneath your strap, to which your body immediately reacted by straightening and lifting your shoulders to stop him from what you thought would probably come next. "A bit too much for my liking." Without a warning and unfazed by your reaction, he pulled the right strap down.

"Son, I swear to-" Wonwoo's harsh voice hit your ear. You saw him take one step forward but he was quickly stopped by your sudden gasp echoing through the room once you felt cold metal meeting your lower back. Before anyone could react, you heard guns reloading and quickly realised what was being held against your skin. You closed your eyes.

"You swear to God what, Jeon? Huh? Be smart now." Shownu didn't show any sign of remorse. He wasn't going to be the one the back down from this.

Wonwoo raised his hands in defence, eyeing the other men who had raised their guns to point them at him. "I came here to talk to you. I don't wanna start anything."

"Who is she?" The older man nodded at you. "To you."

A sigh came from the CEO. "My partner." His comment made you look at him.

Shownu suddenly laughing out loud caught you off guard. "Yeah, right." His rough fingers graced your jaw and down your neck. "You really think I'd believe you bringing your own bitch here?" He chuckled again and took back the metal against your back as he rounded you to stand to your right again. "I mean, I must give it to you. You played the part of protective boyfriend pretty fucking well, but I know you better than that, Jeon. You can't fool me." And just when you thought you were out of the line of fire, he raised the gun again, close, yet not touching, to your temple. Your breathing cut off immediately. Something in your body stopped you from crying because God, you just wanted to start weeping.

"Business partner," Wonwoo quickly told him. "We work together."

Shownu raised one eyebrow as he chuckled. "No shit." He lowered the gun again, letting you let out the breath you were holding. "What kind of business?"

"Not the business you're thinking of. I told you I'm out of that." The CEO explained. "I bought a company."

"I know that. You don't think I watch the news, idiot?" His question made Wonwoo almost roll his eyes, but he knew to hold himself back.

"She used to work there, now she's COO."

A silence fell over the room. Glancing to the side, you found Shownu, looking straight ahead, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he turned to glare at you, a smirk forming on his lips as soon as your eyes met.

"Yoon Y/N." Hearing your name fall from his lips made you gulp.

"Wow," he laughed and directed his attention back to Wonwoo. "You took Sungho's company and his little princess? You are cold-hearted, Jeon." After a look up and down your body, he licked his lips. "He used to keep her so hidden, and you're out here, showing her off like the price that she is. I taught you well." Listening to them speak as if you weren't even in the room with them made you want to accept the offer of squeezing out the eyes of every man in the room.

"You didn't teach me shit." Wonwoo gained back the confidence he usually holds himself up with once no gun in the room was pointed at him or you again. He knew very well what he could and could not do in each situation, having studied the rival group for years. When no snarky remark came in response, he continued with a sigh. "Now are you finally ready to listen to me?"

By now, you had brought the strap of your outfit back up on your shoulder, hiding your body behind your crossed arms once again, hoping and praying to escape from this place as quickly as possible.

Shownu let a small laugh tumble from his lips. "You must be pretty damn desperate to come to me."

He didn't need an answer. It seemed like everyone in the room already knew. No one in their right mind would even dare to set foot in this building if not desperately needed.

Yet, Wonwoo gave in with a nod.

-

"That Park fucker, I swear to God," Shownu leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his fingers running through his hair.

After shooing every single person out of the room, he got situated back onto the couch, Wonwoo taking a seat to his right at the corner, where another member of Shownu's group had been sitting merely a few minutes ago. He brought you along to sit down next to him after making sure you were somewhat doing alright. Good to know he still cared after pretending a little too well that he didn't.

"You know him?" The CEO wondered, saying out loud what went through your mind as well.

After sharing the entire story of the break-in, and the lawsuit, followed by the evidence brought in by Sehun and finishing off with Jihoon expertly recommending the two of you to pay Monsta X a visit, Shownu seemed to know a little more than you expected.

The rival nodded. "The last time you were here-"

"We went over this-"

"Those were his men."

Wonwoo stopped. He wasn't expecting that to come out. "What? His men?" Getting a nod in return. With a loud sigh, he stood up. "And you thought it was us?! When it was him all along?! What the fuck was the interrogation for then?!"

"Sit back down before I put a bullet through your head," Shownu told him. The low calmness in his voice a little sending a wave of fright through your body.

But Wonwoo didn't budge. "Why didn't you say anything?" Lowering his voice as well.

"You could be working with him for all I know. You really wanna fight about that now?!"

"Just admit that you were in the wrong."

"You better shut your fucking mouth. I'm the only one that can help you right now." Now both men were standing, facing each other with heavy breaths. It made Wonwoo chuckle as he shook his head.

"You're pathetic." Walking around the seating space as Shownu sat back down.

"So, what do you need from me?"

"The security camera videos," the CEO answered him. "Give me that, and we're out."

The rival straightened his back. "You want to have security camera footage to bring it to court and reveal what's going on in my club. I think the fuck not. You can see yourself out." He got up and was quick on his feet as he stepped down from the slightly elevated part of the room, walking towards the door.

You had finally had enough, and just as Wonwoo was about to open his mouth, you beat him to it. "They won't know it's from here." Shownu stopped in his tracks, only to turn around with a smug smirk plastered on his face.

He raised an eyebrow. "So she can actually talk." Commenting on your choice to stay quiet for the night. While he seemed amused by your outburst, Wonwoo was anything but that and quickly took in his position from before, covering half of your frame with his.

"Your watermark on the cameras isn't your fucking logo, and we won't tell them where we got the footage from." 

The rival redirected his attention, leaving you in the back once again. "And you expect me to believe you?" The older man crossed his arms in front of his chest, his feet wider apart to show dominance in the situation.

Wonwoo copied him, only hiding his hands in his pockets. "You want to watch him go down just as much as we do."

Shownu sighed out loud in clear annoyance, running a hand through his hair. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend. You're taking that stupid saying a bit too seriously, Jeon."

"Trust me, you're anything but my friend."

-

You were advised to wait outside of the security man's room at the very back of the hallway, suggesting that what they would find on each of those videos was anything but pleasant. What you thought of the way Wonwoo was handling bringing you into this scene was still undecided by you. On one hand, you were definitely thankful you were able to stay clear of witnessing anything you'd prefer to keep unseen, but on the other hand, you were in this shithole just as much as Wonwoo and him treating you like some fragile dove was almost humiliating. Yes, of course, you weren't all that big and strong as him and whatnot, and yes, you were definitely more scared of whoever these men here were than you'd like to admit, but being a little damsel in distress would feel a bit different, you thought. 

Question after question kept running through your head as you walked along the walls of the cold hallway. The stones on the side made everything just look more and more like a dungeon, sending yet another chill down your spine. This used to be a place Wonwoo would visit frequently... most of his friends along with him... How much of this timeline in Wonwoo's life did you actually want to know about? He seemed to have put it behind him, but that's when you remembered one of your dad's sayings.

"Your past will forever be a part of you."

You were too young to understand what he meant and to this very day, you couldn't recall what the context of the moment was. But it stuck with you. And now it made you think. Every single thing that had happened with Wonwoo in the past 48 hours... what were you getting yourself into? Did you want to just let yourself fall into the arms of another man when you swore to yourself you wouldn't be doing that exact thing? And what man were you even trusting here? Back in the day, he was just the stupid douchebag, a rich kid of a CEO, then he became your boss, and now... now he was a man you found comfort in. A man you could trust... you... you tried to trust. But... he had secrets. Secrets that only now are making an appearance and God only knows, if everything with Chanyeol had never happened, how would your relationship with Wonwoo even have turned out? Would you still think of him as the annoying bachelor turned CEO or would be able to see the caring man he was behind this facade? The man who despised his father's wrongs and tried to do everything right again. You saw the way he acted around his mother, and it almost made your knees give in. It was a gentleness you had never seen before. It was so foreign to you, but it made you oh that much more jealous... why did it make you jealous? You hated to admit it, and Binna would slap you and tell you 'I told you so' but in your head, you were finally able to admit it. Jealous of a soft man's touch. Jealous of someone caring for you. Worrying about you. No gang member would act like that, right? You almost chuckled at the thought of Shownu treating a woman with respect. That was not a man with the possibility of having respect for anyone but himself. But Wonwoo... no, he wasn't like that. Maybe he had changed. Potentially, he had been similar to Shownu in the past... The mere thought of it made you want to throw up... But no, he told you himself, that he had promised himself to become everything his father hadn't been growing up. But after all, this kind of life had still been a part of him at some point. The dark side. The side where men would spend hours in clubs just like the Monbebe, touching, pulling, and groping women. The image of seeing him or any other of his friends in either one of these rooms behind those doors or upstairs, enjoying a drink by the bar, eyeing women up and down as they passed them, touching them, kissing them, taking th-

The door the two men had disappeared behind a few minutes ago opened, revealing the man that had been occupying your brain for the entirety of the time you had spent alone. The smoke from your brain overworking finally stopped, letting you take in a deep breath you didn't remember holding in. Too many thoughts for one night...

"You're okay?" Where the first words coming from him as he noticed the clear distance you had out between yourself and the door.

You nodded with a shaky smile in return. Before you could say anything, Shownu made an appearance behind the CEO, closing the door before you could even try to get a look inside.

"Are you ready to leave my club now?" He snapped at Wonwoo. Clearly, the two hadn't magically just become best friends behind closed doors.

Wonwoo turned around with a nod. "You won't see me here again."

"I'm counting on it." He leaned to the side slightly, sending a smirk your way. "You on the other hand, I would love to invite you someday again."

You couldn't even react as the CEO placed a hand on the older man's bigger chest. Their cold eyes met. "Over my dead body."

"I can make that happen." Shownu smiled, smacking the hand off of him.

Without another word, Wonwoo turned to you, taking a few steps forward to step in line with you, his hand finding a comforting place on your lower back.

"Come on, let's go," he whispered. "Let's get out of here."

"You got everything?" You wondered, surprising yourself with the steadiness of your voice after keeping quiet for so long.

He nodded. "Everything we need."

Before you could run up the stairs again, the sound of the older man's voice echoed through the hallway. "You better take Park down, Jeon."

Wonwoo said goodbye with a raised hand in return, before both of you finally made your way out.

-

After getting out of the club, the CEO had given you his jacket once again before you found Hongseok already waiting for you. With you not knowing what to do or say, and Wonwoo unsure of what was going on in your head, the car ride was spent in complete silence. Neither one of you wanted to even dare interrupt the quietness you shared, even though it was anything but comfortable. Good for you, that you were too lost in thought to notice him moving around in his seat almost nervously. You didn't even realise that Hongseok was driving you back to Wonwoo's place. At least not until you felt a tap on your shoulder, making you turn to the side, only to find Wonwoo waiting by the open door. His extended hand was waiting for you to reach out for it to help you out. You quietly thanked the driver before letting the CEO guide you into the building, into the elevator, and right into his apartment.

It was only then he dared to speak. "You want something to drink?" 

You snapped back into reality. "Hm?"

He turned back around as he was just about to enter the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"

You shook your head slightly, "No, no, I'm good. I had enough wine last night."

Wonwoo couldn't help but hold back a chuckle. "I meant like water... or tea?"

"Oh. Ehm... yeah, okay," you nodded this time. Remembering, you still had your shoes on, you followed him into the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the barstools. That man had way too many places to sit and eat for a one-bedroom apartment.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Your head snapped up to look at him standing by the sink. You nodded. "Yeah..." Before bending down to release your feet from the confinement of those terrible high heels. Wonwoo watched your slight struggle, leaving the cups on the countertop as he rounded the kitchen island to bend down in front of you. You let your hands drop, already knowing where this was going. Your eyes analysed his fingers playing with the clasp on the leather strap.

"You know, it's okay if... you're a bit... unsure," he softly spoke, not losing focus on his task.

"Unsure?" You wondered.

"Does scarred sound better?" He looked up. The sight almost made you gasp. Just like all the other times when you had been in similar situations. Him... on his knees... in front of you... looking up at you with those dark eyes that looked so cold yet made you feel so warm.

You shook your head. "I'm not scared."

"Okay," he simply answered before letting both of your shoes fall to the floor. A soft moan of freedom tumbled from your lips.

"Thanks."

His fingers running up your feet slightly didn't go unnoticed by you, even though you think it should've gone by the way Wonwoo just simply stood back up and got back to making you your cup of tea.

"I'm not scared," you repeated, knowing that you mostly said it, trying to reassure yourself of the truth of the statement. "Maybe a little weirded out... but not scared."

He nodded again. "I understand. And I get it."

An important question was tickling the top of your tongue. One that you had been asking yourself ever since he disappeared with Shownu, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the hallway. They gave you too much time to think and now you were starting the question too many things you shouldn't even be thinking about. But you couldn't help it. You had to know.

"How-" As soon as the first word fell from your lips, you stopped yourself. Wonwoo's head shot in your direction, leaving the water to boil in the back. Seeing his eyes trained on you just made you forget about every worry you had before. This man couldn't possibly...

"Ask," he assured you, leaning on the counter as he watched you debate with yourself. He wanted you to ask. He almost needed you to.

You stuttered. "I... I don't know if I want to know." Your voice was suddenly quieter than before as you looked down at your hands that had started a thumb war.

"You deserve to know," he simply let you know. 

"But..." you sighed out loud, almost in annoyance. Who were you annoyed at though? "Jesus... I just." You tried collecting your thoughts as well as you possibly could, but there was way too much going on and your brain didn't have nearly the capacity you needed it to have at that very moment. "I don't know what to think. I... It's just weird."

"I understand that." He continued to let you know, nodding along with you as his gentle voice reached you. 

With a desperate sigh, you let your elbows rest on top of the counter, bringing your hands up to cover your face. You had to. "How involved were you in the Monbebe?"

He hummed, pushing himself off to stand straight again. "I wasn't one of those men sitting, drinking and pulling women down into their lap, if that's what you're thinking."

You nodded shyly, whispering almost to yourself. "That is what I was thinking..."

"I hate that club just as much as you do now," he sent you an almost sympathetic smile before turning back again to finish the tea. You noticed two cups next to each other.

"I don't know if that's possible," you chuckled, brushing over your arms that were still covered by his jacket.

He copied you. "You're right. You probably hate it just a little bit more than me, but trust me," he placed the cup for you right under your nose, "I didn't enjoy even a second I had to spend in there. Not back then, not today."

You nodded. Still hesitant about asking more questions, Wonwoo noticed your nervous frame, deciding to continue to avoid another uncomfortable silence washing over the two of you.

"Shownu's grandfather and mine started it all." The beginning of his story made you look up, watching him set down his own mug. "God knows what exactly happened between them but it all started with them. Then, our fathers took over, and the rivalry just continued. It started as a normal business rivalry, you know, just... stupid shit and jealousy over the success of the other one. But then..." He took a deep breath. "My father made some really stupid decisions, and it brought him to the darker side of that business. And before he knew it, Shownu's father lured him into helping him and... it all took a very bad turn from then on. The whole gang shit- I... it's stupid. But if you're born into it, you're born into it. There's not much you can do. So I had I was pretty much forced into continuing whatever my father had started, but... I really wanted to make it right more so. Shownu obviously had his doubts about that, and it wasn't easy to convince him, but somehow, don't ask how, I managed to do so."

"You," you interrupted him, "You don't have to tell me all of this."

"But you deserve to know," he answered. "I shouldn't have brought you there. It was a stupid idea on my side, and now you have to carry that with you for the rest of-"

"Hey," you stopped him gently. "It was my choice to go with you. I could've said no."

"Still," he shook your comment off.

"No." You didn't even let him continue. "We had to go through that and... now we did." You shared a moment of silence, looking into his eyes before opening your mouth again. "But... I gotta be honest... I don't know how much I want to know... about that part of... your past."

Wonwoo sighed, his gaze on the mug on the countertop. "I told you I want to be honest with you, and you deserve to know everything-"

"But I also told you that I trust you," you quickly added before he could take his thoughts much further, making him look up at you. "And I meant that." You shook your head. "I don't have to know everything about that... Jesus, I don't even want to, honestly. Not now, at least." Adding the last statement a bit quieter.

With a deep breath, Wonwoo decided to speak up after watching to stir your tea with the spoon he gave you. He thought carefully about each word he let out. "I think you might see me a bit differently after... what happened that last time there."

"The bloodbath?" You wondered, remembering the comments Shownu and him made within the first seconds of meeting him.

Wonwoo just nodded, taking a big gulp from his drink.

"I don't care," your simple answer surprised him as his eyes fell back on you again. "Don't tell me." You shrugged, "In Jihoon's office, I... I wanted you to tell me what the hell was going on because I was just... confused and... I guess scared. But now..." Another sigh fell from your lips, slightly shakier than before. "I just don't think I want to know." Because you were scared. You might not verbally admit it, but God... you didn't even want to imagine what could've happened back then.

"Okay," Wonwoo understood you. He couldn't have been more thankful to leave that story to tell at some point in the future. "Not today. Another time."

"Another time," you agreed with him, finally bringing up the now lukewarm mug to your lips, letting it trickle down your throat, sending a wash of comfort through your body.

The two of you started talking about the next steps including, getting the videos to Jihoon, him bringing every piece of evidence to the court, and what could further happen. Possible delays, future court dates, and how to deal with the situation at work. It almost felt a little too nice. Too... domestic. You seating on one of the barstools, him in the kitchen, moving around as he got himself a glass of water, getting you one as well even without asking you. All while talking about work.

Before the scene could feel too good for your own good, you snapped back.

"Okay," you sighed, moving around with your hands awkwardly, "I should... probably go home now." After bending down to snatch your shoes into your hands, you made your way over to the door.

Wonwoo straightened his back from his leaning position over the counter. "Yeah, sure," he followed you to the entrance, his right hand suspiciously in the pocket of his pants.

You turned around to say one last thing when the close proximity of his chest surprised you, making you forget what you were about to say as you just stared up into his eyes. He smirked at you before you felt his hand on your free one again, placing something in your palm before taking a small step back to let you look down. That damn key again.

"Won-" you started with a heavy breath, but the show of his palms stopped you.

"You're not taking a cab or public transport. Not in this outfit."

His comment made you look down. The 'dress'... right... But you also were still wearing his jacket, which you decided to shrug off to give back to him, already deciding that fighting about the car wasn't going to get you anywhere. His hands on your shoulders stopped your movements.

"You're also keeping the jacket on."

You sighed, "You're really not gonna let me make any decisions, huh?"

His gentle smile sent somewhat of a tingle to your heart, making you almost grin too. "Not after today, no." It wasn't a one-time thing and didn't have much to do with the events of that day- both of you knew that, neither one of you decided to comment on it.

His voice had suddenly become much lower, or maybe it had always been that low, but the closeness of his body let you register it more.

Understandingly, you nodded along. "Today was... long."

"And weird," he finished your thought, his gaze still down at you while you stood in front of him, feeling smaller than usual. In just a skimpy dress, some almost see-through tights, and his suit jacket, along with your shoes in one hand and his car keys in the other, you could've jumped straight out of the depths of his imagination.

"Yeah," you breathed out. He had definitely come closer. He wasn't THAT close before. Right?... Right?! The grip on your shoes tightened as your heartbeat surprised you by speeding up. God...

You should've already been out the door. Why on earth were you still standing in his apartment, barely ready to actually walk out. Your body knew why. Your heart knew why. But your brain decided to yet decline what was going on. Your breathing and stuttering ratted you out though.

You looked around frantically, running a hand through your hair as you suddenly created a bigger space between the two of you, not noticing the hand Wonwoo just dropped back to be by his side.

"I... I'm gonna go." Without waiting for another remark from his side, you turned around. You didn't get far though.

"Y/N," his voice struck you, immediately making you turn back to him. Your face screamed hope but dropped quickly as he continued. "I'm sorry." Wait. No. No no no. That wasn't supposed to happen. That's not what usually followed the call out of a name.

You scrunched your eyebrows, all hope and desperation gone, now replaced by pure confusion. "For what?"

With two big steps, he caught up with you, not wasting another second as he reached out, placed his hand on your neck and pulled you in, his lips meeting yours instantly. The sudden movement made you jolt in surprise, your full hands coming up to his chest to steady yourself.

You quickly fell into a matching rhythm, your lips moving against each other like butter. His fingers tightened on your neck, truly pulling you in as closely as he possibly could, getting a soft moan of you return. Kissing you wasn't enough, this man wanted to breathe you in. His free hand came up to get a hold of the shoes you were still holding onto. You let go, giving him the freedom to let them drop to the floor behind him. As soon as you could feel his lips distancing from yours, a whine dared to escape from you. He kept your noses close enough to touch.

"Stay," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your lips. Wonwoo didn't give you time to respond, smashing his lips back on yours. You continued to enjoy this moment, just moving along with him, breathing heavily as you felt his left hand come to your hips, travelling to your lower back. You had to let go.

"Wonwoo-"

"Please." He didn't let you finish. Pleading against your lips as you were close to distancing yourself from him. You let your eyes meet. Your eyebrows raised, scrunched in desperation, his just as usual low and unsaying of any of his emotions. But you could hear it in his voice. The slight shake. He wanted this. He needed this. Just as much as you did. Your breaths were already becoming one, your mouths begging to touch.

Fuck it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you. He let go of your neck, both of his hands immediately working on getting rid of the jacket that was still covering your body. And you let him. He undressed you hastily, throwing the anorak somewhere onto the floor - neither of you could care less. Before you could intertwine your hands behind his neck again, his hand found yours, taking back the key, only to make it join the jacket. A chuckle left your lips at his eagerness. Everything happened while your lips were still dancing with each other. Not fighting. Not moving. Dancing, as they fit like they were made for each other. You didn't want it to stop, convinced that it would have the same effect as holding your breath forever.

Wonwoo's hands travelled lower until they reached your ass and he crouched down before whispering into your mouth, "Jump." Letting you hop into his arms, his hands firmly on your behind to steady you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, hoping to be as close to him as you possibly could. You let your fingers start to play with the hair on the back of his neck, tugging slightly, making him chuckle as he leaned back. 

"Careful," he whispered before lowering you down onto his bed, his much wider frame covering yours, engulfing you in comfort as he just hovered above you. 

Wonwoo didn't give you enough time to enjoy his lips on yours with the softness of his bed underneath before he moved onto your neck. His mouth started following your jawline, down to the side of your neck while your hands found a good place on his shoulders. You moaned out loud, not even caring about holding it back.

"We've been here once before, right?" His voice vibrated on your skin. He travelled back up to kiss your cheek, keeping his face at a distance to look you in the eyes as his fingers petted some strands of hairs out of your face. "But I'm planning on finishing it this time. Okay?" 

In desperation, you nodded, hoping to get further and get his body back fully onto yours. "Please do," you whined, his hands exploring your still-covered body.

Wonwoo smirked down at you, "I got you, baby," giving you a quick peck, which you had hoped would turn into a continuation of before, but were let down when he let go again. "Let's get you out of this first." Rubbing the material of your dress. He stood back up on his two feet, getting a hold of your hand to pull you up with him. Before you had enough time to gaze at his face, taking in every inch of his perfectly sculpted facial structure, he turned you around softly. His lips immediately went back to his neck as his fingers looked for the zip he had closed up a few hours ago, getting a soft moan from you in return.

"You look so beautiful in this," he whispered against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. "But you have no idea how fucking hard it was to keep my hands off you the entire evening." With each word he spoke, the butterflies in your stomach grew wilder and wilder. You just wanted him to never stop.

Once the zip was all the way down, he let the fabric drop down your arms, and you let him. Why should you stop at this moment? As soon as the dress fell to the floor, you stepped out of it and were turned back to face Wonwoo. His hand came up to cradle your face.

"Do you remember how I said I wanted to do this right?" You only trusted yourself to nod, scared of what sound might leave your mouth if you dared to speak. He grinned, "Good." And his lips were back on yours. Swiftly, he also got rid of your bra before his hands went down on the side of your thighs, pulling you in and making you wrap your legs around him once again. He took the opportunity to kneel down onto the bed, getting both of you onto the mattress and making sure your head met a pillow. Just like before, his lips left yours yet again to trace a line down your neck, only now also following the natural line of your collarbone before going further down and down. He didn't stop until he reached your breasts, kissing the right side first, getting closer and closer to your nipple, waiting for your moans to get higher. That's when you started to feel his tongue just on the outline of your nipple, going around it in circles, making you lift your body up automatically. His grip on your hips tightened, pushing you down to lay you flat, making you unable to move, no matter how much your body was begging for friction.

Wonwoo moved onto your left side, his mouth leaving wet kisses all over your tits as his tongue tickled your skin. You had let your hands move on their own. They found Wonwoo's grasp as they tried to loosen his grasp to give you some more freedom to move around. No chance. That man wasn't gonna let go of you any time soon.

"Wonwoo," your breathy voice made him come up to your lips again, teasing you by hovering above you, only coming close enough that your lips could potentially touch if you just moved up less than an inch. He hummed, giving you the notice to continue talking. Easier said than done when he started to place kisses all over your face again until he reached your neck.

"Please," you continued to beg for more. He couldn't help but chuckle slightly.

"Why the rush, gorgeous?" If only he knew what all of those nicknames were doing to you. Well, he was about to find out.

Not giving you time to respond, he moved himself down your body, making sure to resume his trail of kisses down your entire body. As if it was his goal to have touched every bit of your skin with his lips - if only you knew that was his exact goal. Maybe not for just tonight, but as a life goal.

His skilled finger quickly made their way into the seam of your tights, pulling them down. Slowly. Gently. Painfully.

You groaned.

"Let me take my time with you," he whispered. You shuffled yourself up, your elbows steadying you as you looked down at him now pulling off the thin piece of clothing and throwing it onto the floor.

Your heavy breathing didn't stop. "You're teasing." It wasn't a question or a cry of desperation. Maybe just a bit... but it was also a simple fact.

Wonwoo smirked proudly, getting closer to you again, stopping right in front of your face. "Good." He gave you a quick peck. "Now you know what it's like having to stand next to you every goddamn day and not be able to touch you."

"Who says you can't?" Where the sudden boost in confidence came from, was a question to everyone involved.

His low chuckle sent a warm rush right down where you were begging for him the most. "Well, I am a gentleman after all." He got slightly closer, his breath now tickling your lips, continuing his tease. You were too focused on his mouth just barely touching yours, not noticing the hand he had let travel lower, diving right into your underwear. The tip of his finger grazed your clit, getting a quick shutter and deep moan in return. To silence you, Wonwoo was quick to break the tension, covering your mouth with his once again, his tongue brushing over your lips immediately too. 

As if his kisses alone didn't already make you moan enough, his fingers that had started moving in circles on your clit made it hard for you to even concentrate on moving your lips along with his.

He pushed your body down again to lay flat on the mattress before diverting his attention back onto your skin. His free hand had gotten rid of your panties swiftly, giving him more freedom to pleasure you with his fingers alone.

God... his fucking fingers... so skillfully moving over your bundle of nerves before slowly daring to go even just a bit lower. You felt him smile against your neck as soon as he came in contact with the wetness of your hole already waiting for him. His finger tickled your entrance for a quick second before diving in, making you bite your lip, not letting the high-pitched moan escape fully. It was just that Wonwoo was having none of that. 

Within a split of a second, his was right in front of you again, his fingers that had just been inside of you, now on your chin as his thumb pulled your lower lip free from your teeth. He lowered himself down to whisper into your ear.

"Don't you dare even try holding back a moan tonight."

With no warning, he slowly pushed his two fingers, still covered in your wetness up to your mouth. You opened up wide enough for them to fit, already knowing what he wanted.

"Let me hear you, beautiful," he encouraged you, kissing the side of your neck to get a reaction from you as you moaned on his fingers, licking them clean of your taste. Only a second later, he pulled them out again, drawing a line down your torso until he reached your tits, engulfing one in his grip as his upper body disappeared from your sight again.

It was only when you started to feel his mouth on your upper thighs that you knew where he was going. His free hand was already tapping your legs to open up, giving him access to your inner thigh. Even though this wasn't the first time you had Wonwoo in this position, it felt just like it did back then. Perfectly intoxicating. You couldn't get enough of his touch, his lips, or... just him.

Wonwoo was everything you told yourself to never fall for ever again. But here you were, underneath the man in question, letting your body react freely against his touch.

Even though you expected it, you couldn't help the loud moan to fall from your lips as soon as his mouth came into contact with your core. His tongue didn't waste a moment, immediately giving your clit all of the attention. He started circling it before using his entire mouth to suck, getting a follow-up of multiple heavy moans from you in return. Your fingers had started holding onto his hair desperately, almost pulling too hard, yet Wonwoo didn't budge. With one hand, he made sure to keep your hips as still as possible while his other one had joined his mouth by your pussy, his fingers teasing your entrance yet again. His lips occupied with sucking your soul out of your clit, and his fingers pushing inside of you made you jolt your hips up, only to get pushed down harshly again, not even a second later.

As much as you would've wanted to form words, letting him know just how good he was making you feel, you couldn't. No understandable word from the dictionary was able to form in your mouth. You were communicating in moans, groans and heavy breathing. And Wonwoo understood every single loud you were making. He was able to read you like his favourite book, remember you like his favourite lyrics and play you like an instrument he had been playing forever. Everything just fit... too perfectly.

The squelching sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you filled the room, entertaining the two of you like a song in the background. Mixed with your moans, Wonwoo's cock was already reacting to it. From the moment he had thrown you onto the bed, to be completely honest, if not as soon as he had seen you in that pathetic excuse of a dress. 

He couldn't hide a smirk once he felt your walls starting to tighten around his fingers, only letting him know to keep on going. He had switched to tickling your clit with his tongue again, the tip of it going up and down, circling the bud before pressing flat against it. Anything to make you come undone right under his touch - his biggest accomplishment. The harsh tugging on his hair got a deep groan from him, vibrating against your pussy, sending the last wave of pleasure you needed to finally release on his fingers with a loud moan. You fought against his grip, lifting your hips into his mouth as your orgasm hit you. It didn't stop him from continuing, still moving his fingers, only slightly slower now, making sure that his lips were also gently sucking on your clit, focusing more on kissing it, making you jolt with each touch. You whined out loud, your legs tightening around his head. This was heaven. No need to question it. This must be it. No other possibilities.

"Fuck," your uneven breathing filled the room, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he kept his head down, working you through your high as you tried to push him back. "Wonwoo-" you cried out. "Please- God..."

With a smug grin on his lips, he raised his head, looking up at you still trying to catch your breath.

"You call that teasing?"

You had to chuckle, covering your face with one hand.

Wonwoo pushed himself up, coming back to face you, taking your hand in his to look you in the eyes.

"You did so well for me," he whispered against your lips. You didn't know how to react, so you just pulled him in closer by his collar. A kiss was answer enough. That's when you noticed something.

You pulled back. "How come you're still in your clothes while I'm naked underneath you?"

He smiled. "Well, ladies' first." His comment made your eyes roll. He chuckled. "But I'd be happy to change that." Diving back to continue kissing you with just as much passion as he did when he pulled you in back by the entrance door. 

Your fingers got to work on the buttons of his dress shirt while he was occupied with getting his pants open and off. You got rid of his shirt, letting it drop onto the floor by your side. To get out of his pants, Wonwoo sat back, letting his underwear go as well. Before you went further, you let your eyes travel over his torso, taking in every single piece of art decorating his skin. His shoulder was covered in black and grey ink, going down his right arm, hugging his biceps. Oh, to run you tongue over each piece… You snapped back and quickly joined him, hopping onto his lap, before he even had the time to get on top of you again. You had been waiting way too long for this. Way longer than you'd like to admit.

He made sure to keep his hands on your ass, placing you comfortably on his lap, his erection high, slapped against his abdomen. You didn't need to look down to know how big he was. You knew. You remembered. Hell, you even dreamt of it after the times he had already fucked you. Don't tell Binna that.

With his lips back on yours, much more eager than before, you let one hand rest on his chest while the other had gone down, swiping over your still glistening cunt, wetting your palm before you grasped his cock. An immediate moan came from Wonwoo, his breath heavy in your mouth, groaning against each other as you felt him nudge his hips into your touch. You kept your hand on the upper half of his dick, your thumb brushing over the top, spreading the pre-cum all over the burning red tip. The chill going through his body didn't go unnoticed by you, making you smirk against his lips as his fingers dug deeper into your ass, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Your hand had started running up and down his entire erection, making him hide his face in your neck as he kissed it again, sucking harshly on one specific spot he remembered you reacting to the hardest. As if it was a competition, your hand movements became harder and sloppier while his kisses became much harsher. Both of you had forgotten about moaning, turning to groaning as it relieved much more of the pleasure.

Without a warning, Wonwoo slapped your hand away and lowered you closer to the mattress, his arm on your lower back to hold you up. His free hand grabbed the base of his cock, directing it towards your entrance as you held yourself up with your elbows. He teased you by circling your hole with the tip of his dick, just waiting to fill you up.

You threw your head back in desperation. "GOD, Wonwoo just put your cock inside of me, please." With a low chuckle, he followed your plead. You couldn't hold yourself up and let your back hit the mattress as both of his hands had found their way to your hips, holding onto them as he backed out and went straight in again. Just like with his fingers - painfully slow. The roughness of each vein that decorated his erection grazed your walls, only intensifying each thrust.

"Fuck," you heard him curse under his breath as he lowered his body, his mouth back on your right breast as his right hand played with your left nipple.

You moaned out loud. "Fuck, Wonwoo," trying to move your hips along with his rhythm.

He came back up, his hand now on your neck as he groaned right into your ear. "Jesus, you feel so good." His thumb was brushing against your cheek.

"Won-" your moan was interrupted by an uncontrollable whine you had to let out as he was suddenly going deeper, making you realise he hadn't put his full length inside of you up until you. "Please," you stuttered with heavy breaths, "Please make me come."

His hand left your neck, immediately going down to your clit, after dipping into your wetness, putting pressure on your little bundle of nerves.

You nudged your hips up, "FUck, yes." Crying out loud as he kissed your jawline. Listening to his moans so close to your ear, feeling his thrusts becoming more and more irregular, almost sloppy, made you all that more aroused, knowing how close he must be getting.

With another hit at your G-spot, you almost couldn't hold back anymore.

"Wonwoo, I'm gonna cum," you whined, getting his attention as he kissed you deeply.

"Come on, baby. I'm close too. Come on. Just like that," he encouraged you, keeping his rhythm as steady as he possibly could, which wasn't much. "Good girl." Sending a heavy rush of arousal right to your pussy.

With his fingers right on your clit, his breathing against your ear and just feeling his chest move against you, his cock hitting all the right places inside of you, you didn't dare to hold back, letting go right as it hit you. A loud cry tumbled from your lips, your head digging into the blanket and mattress underneath you. The tightness of your walls almost pushing his cock out of you as the pleasure rushed through your body.

Wonwoo pushed himself up, and with three last hard thrusts into you, you felt him fill you up just as you would have begged him to. The warmth of his seamen made another moan come from you. Your hands were quickly trying to find his that were once again on your hips - seemed like they had found their favourite place.

His movements had slowed down, now making sure to work you through your uneven breathing as you came down from your second orgasm.

For a good few minutes, he continued to rock the both of you back and forth comfortably, lowering himself down to cover your frame with his wide shoulders, kissing you deeply without having to ask him to. His fingers tangled in your hair to make sure he'd pull you in as close as possible while his hips stopped moving, only one last time as he pulled out, leaving you cold and empty on the bed.

With one last kiss on your cheek, and a quick whisper of, "Stay here," he disappeared into the bathroom. You laid still. You put your right hand right under your boobs, still trying to even out your breathing.

That's what's supposed to happen when someone calls your name out in such desperation.

Taglist: @nctxtrash @leicy0756 @hoe4wonwoo @jeonwonhi @nothingbutadeadesceane @smileywoo @angelarin @onewoowonderboy @goodforgyu @kavvs @sugarmilkchan @sweetheart-gs @wonforgyu @lilactangerine @meltinghershey @wonw00t @soonchanshua @jayswifeuwu @allorysayshi @shaurenlaw @drama-1998-girl @yoonren07 @malakasae @sseuyeon @venusprada @jeminiepabo @billboard-singer @safsaf1980 @monmarguerite @ji-jii-visha @renjunphile @haogyuslut @destinyg237 @taestrwbrry @renkkuri @travelleratheart101 @love-svt @sunshinein17 @morklee02 @wonuziex @pwwarkjisung @hokuuuu @clvudisan @awyunh @restlesswritings @woohaosworld @caratlove10 @woo8hao @misssugarlips @heednpy

[foxgloveprincess]

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]

Summary: Of course, you had to fall sick. What else could possibly happen when you’re being kept in some bastard’s basement?

Word Count: 2,956

Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist

Warnings: Dark, Non Con (non-sexual), Kidnapping, Basement Wife Trope, Manipulation, Legal Documents, Illness (mentions of Retching/Nausea, Fever), Swearing/Cursing, Bathing, Pet Names (honey, precious). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: Not as grody as the last chapter, I promise. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if I missed any tags. Happy Second Sunday of Attic Wives Advent! ❄️🎉🍾🙌🏻

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics. 

This is unBeta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

Your body shivers uncontrollably beneath the blanket. If only you had a mountain to burrow under. Something to keep you warm. Yet you’re sweating from every pore. 

Hate burns deep in your belly, swirling with the nausea. That sick fuck is gonna leave you down here to die. Let the fever ravage you until you expire. No. You won’t let it. Your teeth grit even as they chatter. Burning rage fuels you, though exhaustion tugs at your eyelids. Sleep too tempting to resist, you plummet into it. Rest is good—it’ll help your body fight. 

You awaken to a weight shifting beside you a few hours—who could say how many—later. Your eyes snap open, arms flailing to swat at the man sitting beside you. A weak growl rolls roughly in your throat. 

“Hey, shhhh,” he soothes as he grabs your wrists. 

You blink and squint into the dim lighting. It’s not Andy—the man imprisoning you in his basement. The older man beside you looks down at your shivering frame with something like pity shining in his eyes. He’s handsome, but you’ve learned to be wary of that. Too many fucked up experiences under your belt. 

“What has Andy put you through?” he asks, muttering more to himself than to you. 

You scowl and turn your head away from his hand lifted to check your temperature. 

“Fuck off,” you grit from a sore throat. 

“I’m here to help you,” the man says with a quick glance over his shoulder. “You can’t live like this.” 

You blink up at him, suspicions dulled by a foggy head but still pricking at his smooth-talking. Like he expects you to believe him. He knows Andy. He’s probably in cahoots with him—friends, thick as thieves. Who knows what this wolf is hiding under his sheep’s clothing. 

The door to the basement unlocks and opens. Andy enters with a tray filled with a plate, pill bottles, a single flower in a vase, a cup, and mug. 

The man leans closer in quiet desperation. “Just trust me.” Even his insistence doesn’t persuade you, though something about his tone piques your curiosity. He stands and backs into a corner as your captor closes the door. 

“There’s my girl,” Andy croons, approaching the bed and setting the tray next to it. “The doctor recommended plenty of fluids and to check your temperature about now.”

He presses the button and the device beeps before he slides it across your forehead. You scowl, but it doesn’t affect the path of the device as it reads your temperature. 

“Oh, dear,” he mutters under his breath. 

Andy places the thermometer aside and cradles your face in his hands. You bare your teeth, but you have so little energy to fight. 

“Her temperature’s higher,” he says to the man in the corner. “What do I do?” His eyes plead, his fingers stroking over your cheek. 

The man pushes himself away from the wall. He approaches and gently sits beside Andy. He removes your captor’s hands from your face. You slump, releasing the tension in your body. In your fuzzy brain, you can’t decipher the look the older man sends your way. 

“You know what needs to happen,” he says with a pointed look toward your feet. 

You unconsciously shift, the chains rattling under your blanket. 

Andy sighs, his chin dropping toward his chest. “Yeah,” he admits in defeat. 

Your ears prick beneath the heat of your fever. What is he doing?

He reaches for the button of his collared shirt. It pops open under his fingers and he reaches inside, drawing out a thin chain necklace and a dangling key. He hesitates with the key in his hand, but bends slowly toward your feet. He draws away the blanket and lifts your ankle to his lap. The click of the lock unlatching sounds like a hallelujah chorus. The chain and ankle cuff fall away with a clatter to the floor. Tears fill your eyes. It’s not much, but already you feel hope igniting in your heart. An opportunity, even if you can’t take it right now.

Without looking away from your foot, Andy asks, “do you really think this is—”

“Yes,” the older man interrupts. 

A moment passes as the two men lock eyes. Andy sighs and leans down again to kiss your legs—higher up your thigh, exposing more of your skin to the cold air. If you could move, you’d kick his teeth in. But he keeps a gentle hand on your ankle in his lap, petting over and soothing the red skin. Even his softest touch stronger than what little you possess in your weakened body. His thumb strokes your ankle bone. You growl, but the sound cuts off into a coughing fit. 

Andy rubs your back as he lifts you in your shivering cocoon of fever. Hiking you up into his arms and holding you close to his chest. He grunts. You protest with soft sounds of fury and surprise. Curses and spite sit on your tongue, unvoiced.

As he climbs the stairs up out of the dingy, disgusting basement you can’t even appreciate it, eyes closed to stave off the bubbling nausea in your gut. Sunlight blooms across your face. You open your eyes to be blinded. Such a normal home around you. Big windows leading to a lush green backyard. 

Your lips open to scream, sure that this is your chance. All you manage is a weak croak. 

“Shhh,” Andy shushes with his head tilting to rest his chin to your forehead. “Don’t exert yourself, honey. Everything’s okay.”

You turn your head and open your lips, biting into his shoulder. Your teeth ache with the pressure. He groans softly and tilts his head to press his lips to your forehead. You stop, stomach lurching. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He keeps climbing up another set of stairs and another like a ladder. The room he enters barely catches your notice, save for the lightness of its walls and its cleanliness. 

The door just to the side of the entrance reveals an adjoining bathroom. He takes you in and sits you on the closed toilet in your blanket. Your eyes scan your surroundings. White tile gleams, pristine. A large sink sits in a quartz countertop which dips into a vanity. A shower head points into a large tub—big enough for at least two. You shudder and close your eyes for a moment to shield yourself from that gut-wrenching thought. 

Water rushes from the faucet of the bathtub and he lets it fill. The sound of it grates in your head. Too loud, too much. Your feet itch. An attempt to stand and run leads to disappointment—dizziness and fatigue too much a hinderance. You groan. Though it catches his notice, Andy says nothing and continues to prepare towels and soaps for your bath. 

You can admit that relief sparks at the prospect of finally getting clean. How long you’ve spent in that filthy, disgusting basement you couldn’t say. Don’t even want to guess. Nose-blind now to your own body odor, you can’t imagine how you smell, and you can’t bring yourself to look in the vanity’s mirror to see the state of your skin.  

“Come here, honey,” Andy beckons while he approaches and tries to strip the blanket from your shoulders. 

“No,” you grit between your teeth, clutching at the fabric. 

With your impaired strength against his, it’s no wonder you lose. He balls the blanket and throws it out the door. A smug smile on his lips. You sneer. 

Delighted at your inability to defend yourself, he hikes you back up into his arms and dips you into the water. One smooth motion with no time for you to snap at him as your bottom finds the porcelain of the tub. Violent shivers wrack your body. The water, it’s too cold. Your hands grip the edge, searching for leverage to hoist yourself out of the glacial water. 

Andy’s hold you down. “Hey, let your body get used to it. The doctor said lukewarm water would help lower your temperature.” His eyes shine down at you, a farce of kindness and sympathy. Too consumed by drinking in your bare figure beneath the water.

Your lips tremble too much to do more than sputter hateful sounds. But your captor doesn’t seem to mind as he begins to douse your shoulders and hair with water and foam up a loofah with body wash. 

“Don’t. You. Dare,” you manage to bite as his hand approaches. 

“Do you think you can wash yourself, honey?” he asks, all concern and encouragement—evil bastard. “Here.” He offers the loofah to your hands. “You can go ahead.” 

The frustration builds. Your hands fumble the soapy loofah before it falls into the bath water. You try again, but each effort to wash your limbs ends in struggle and defeat. 

“It’s alright, precious girl,” Andy coos with a pleased glint in his eye, “let me help you.” 

You’ve no choice. Not when he takes the loofah and softly scrubs it over your shoulders. With the warmth of the water and your waning energy, it’s no contest. You sink down into the water while he manipulates your limbs. 

“You know,” he mentions as he tilts your head back and grabs a soft washcloth for your face. “I’m not a bad guy, honey.” He smooths the soapy cloth over your face and clears it from the dust and debris of the basement. “I just wanted us to have our best chance.”

“Holy hell,” you mutter under your breath, leaning into the distortion of your syllables through your slightly stuffed nose. 

A knock sounds from the door. Your head lifts from its position. Sputtering through the water that splashes in your eyes, you huff a frustrated breath. 

“I have everything ready out here,” the other man says through the wood. 

���Thanks,” Andy calls over his shoulder, turning back to you with a smile. “It’s all gonna be better, you’ll see.”

Curses run through your head, scenarios forming. Each one worse than the next. What hell are they going to put you through now? Andy tips your head back further and soaks your hair with water. 

“I know this might take a moment, but I’ve researched what’s best for your hair.” Pride exudes from his words, like he’s expecting praise from you. As fucking if. 

He squeezes shampoo into his hand and begins. Each step he does with the utmost care. Like you’re some precious, fragile doll fit for breaking. You wonder how deeply he researched—what effort were you worth? He pours more water over your head and shields your eyes. 

God fucking dammit. You’re enjoying it. The pampering. The care. The gentle touch. You retch over the side of the tub, a dry convulsion of your stomach. His hand rubs over your back to soothe you. You want to scream. But you fall back into the lukewarm water, shivers running up your spine, and let him finish. The sooner he does, the sooner you stop that traitorous train of thought in its tracks. 

Once he completes the last step of his routine, he pulls the plug on the drain and leaves you in the murky, receding water. You let your fingers drift until it’s all gone, disgusted by the grime sloughed from your skin. 

“Oh,” he says, coming back to your side with a fluffy towel. He stares at the last dregs of water like you. “Maybe one last rinse, precious.” 

By the time you’re truly done with your bath, you can’t even complain when he helps you stand and wraps you in the fluffy towel. Relief flowing too heavy to fight him off. He cradles you close to his chest and runs his hands along your waist, reveling in your semi-compliant state. 

“There we go,” he sighs in delight. “Nice and clean.”

You grumble but can admit you feel much better. Your head clears as you stand there in his arms, despite the sickness still swirling around in your body and leaving a cloudy haze behind.

Andy escorts you out to the larger room. You glance around. But you halt your perusal, confused by the stranger from before seated at a small table. Before him spreads several papers. You’re sat beside him, Andy’s hands a firm weight on your shoulders. 

“Andy,” he addresses your captor, “why don’t we let her have a moment to herself?” 

Andy pipes up a noise of protest. “She needs to—”

“Andrew,” he admonishes, “give her a break.”

Andy sighs and squeezes your shoulders. You glance up at him. Irritation narrows his gaze. But they both leave. 

You gawk after them. Flabbergasted by the sway the older man has over Andy. The way Andy defers to him. Could this man really help you get out of here? You keep to your observations of them until the door shuts behind them, disbelief and suspicion waning. 

The room falls silent around you. With a chance for a better look around, you notice the light grey walls, the white crown moulding, the tufted headboard on the bed and matching furniture. It looks like someone threw up a Pottery Barn catalogue and a Live Laugh Love Pinterest board, and it congealed into this room. Not your style at all. You grimace. 

Another door stands in the corner—you pray for a closet. You walk over and open it, finding not much. A few frilly dresses, and that’s all. Your brow furrows in disappointment. Better than being naked, you grab one off the hanger and throw it over your head. At least there’s no zipper to grapple with. 

You tug and smooth the fabric over your stomach and legs. The dress not to your preference, it clings uncomfortably to your frame. Your feet find their way back to the table, you glance at the array of documents. Fingers flip through a few of them before your vision swims and the door opens again, just a crack. 

“Are you decent?” the stranger whispers through the small space. 

“As good as I’m gonna get,” you respond with a sigh and a hand massaging your forehead. 

With your reply, he sneaks into the room and closes the door behind him. He glances to the fingers still pressed to the papers and those kneading at your temple. 

“Did you get a chance to read through them?” he asks with a nod of his head toward the table. 

You shake yours. “But it looks like some kind of contract.”

“You’re right.” His hand raises to comb his hair back. It flops over and brushes his cheeks. “Mostly, it’s a non-disclosure agreement. A few other bits and pieces.” 

“For what?”

“Andy’s a lawyer,” he explains while taking a seat at the table. “He understands legal documents. I suggested this as a way to help you.” His hands sweep in a gesture above the papers.

“Why?” you ask, the words tinged with suspicion as you sink into the seat across from him. 

“Why what?” he asks with a tilt of his head. 

“Why do you want to help me?” 

The man lets out a heavy breath and stretches his hands across the table. “Andy’s my friend, but he needs help. I know that.” He presses a finger to the sheet closest to him. “This is what I can do. Get you someplace better. Make sure my friend gets what he needs. Make sure he never does this again.” 

Looking in his eyes, keeping your gazes locked, he doesn’t flinch or look away. He’s telling the truth. He wants to get you out, just like he said. You blink in shock.

“So if I sign these papers, it’s over?” you ask, hands finding their way to clutch together in your lap.

“It’s the only way I can see this getting better,” he replies with the same sincerity. He gathers everything up in a pile and hands it over. 

A pen sits by your hand and you lift it. You scan the first document, but with the headache and sinus pressure, it’s all legal jargon you can’t decipher before it becomes blackish grey mush in your eyes. Your head starts to spin. Before you can think better, your signature and initials sit on their respective dotted lines. 

The man breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he says, clipping everything together. Gratitude saturates each word, too saccharine. “It’ll be so much better now. I promise, you’ll enjoy the attic much more than the basement.” 

He keeps talking, but static fills your brain. The attic? Wasn’t he going to get you out? He said—he said…you can’t quite remember anymore. Your brain pounds behind your eyes. You clutch at your head. 

The door swings open and Andy charges in, beelining for his friend and flipping through the packet of papers. A smile growing wider and wider on his lips.

“She signed everything?” he asks, voice excited in a way you don’t like. 

“She did.” The older man pats your captor on the back. “Congratulations, you two. I’ll leave you to your honeymoon.” 

“What?” you mumble. A nauseous weight sits heavy on your chest. You can’t breathe. All air sucked out of the room.

The older man comes over to you, crouching and catching your eye. “It’ll be better,” he repeats, patting your hand. “Just you wait. That marriage certificate was exactly what he needed. He’ll take much better care of his wife.” He stands and presses a kiss to your forehead. You wipe your face in shock while he shakes Andy’s hand. He walks away and turns back for one last wave before closing the door to your new hell.

[direwombat]

tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton and @titiagls to share some more wippy goodness this wednesday (thank you both 🧡🧡🧡)

i promised last week that i'd share the jakesyb werewolf au belligerent sexual tension, so here's a draft of that :)c this snippet occurs later in the scene of my previous wip wednesday, picking up while the newest pack initiates are having their little baptismal dunk in the henbane. predictably, jacob is still being a possessive freak about things <3

[Jacob] presses the knife’s tip against his finger. Not hard enough to draw blood, just enough to feel the cool bite of metal against the calloused flesh. But it doesn’t stop his imagination from running wilder than the Wolf inside. She’d look so good like this: drenched from head to toe with her clothes clinging to her lithe form and staring up at him with awe, wonder, and hunger in those wild green eyes. He wonders if she would lean into his touch when he went to mark her as one of the Pack. 

He wonders if she would grab his wrist when he’s done and nurse at his wound — just as eager to get a taste of him as he is to taste her. 

The wind changes direction, trees rustling in the breeze. 

Then he smells her. Cinnamon whiskey and cigarette smoke drifts lazily through the air. 

Along with the sweet and sour notes of sweat and sex. That of hers and the Huntsman. 

His wolf stirs, possessive and angry. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end and the grip around his knife tightens. His gaze darts out to the congregation and sees that his Chosen, the ones familiar with Eli's scent pick up on it as well. As does Joseph, whose back and shoulders suddenly go tight. 

One of the Chosen pushes his way through the crowd to approach Jacob. “Sir,” he whispers, “I think we may have a problem.” 

A stolen glance and subtle nod of dismissal from Joseph is all Jacob needs. “I’ll handle it,” he grunts, shoving his way through the crowd with predatory intent. The mass of people instinctively part for him, making way for one of their four Alphas. 

He storms his way back up the riverbank and towards the church. Now that he’s away from the rest of the pack, the stoic facade he was barely clinging to crumbles to dust. Lips curling back to reveal his teeth, he growls and snarls his way as he follows the Deputy’s scent. Blood courses white hot through his veins, pulse and thundering in his ears. He knows it's just her somewhere in the shadows; that she wouldn’t have knowingly brought her precious little Huntsman into a literal den of wolves. His scent isn't fresh enough for that to be the case.

Besides, she values his life too much to do such a thing.

Yet here she is using him to make us jealous, his wolf pants, wild-eyed and frothing at the mouth. Can’t value his life too much if knows just how easily we could rip him apart. 

She’d kill us before we could get to him, he reasons. She thinks of Eli as her pack.

The next thought is one of both man and wolf: We’ll have to fix that.

Sybille doesn’t make herself difficult to find. All Jacob has to do is follow the trail of smoke drifting from behind the church. He rounds the corner to find her lurking in the shadows. She’s leaning against a stack of wooden shipping crates. A cigarette dangles loosely between two fingers. She watches him approach, regarding him with  half-lidded eyes — bored, disinterested, mocking.

“You gotta lotta crates, here,” she muses, kicking at the one she’s leaning against with a sturdy boot. A ring of embers glows, casting soft orange light over the sharp, angular planes of her face. She quirks a skeptical brow. “All of this is for construction, I take it?” 

Rather than indulging in her condescending tendency for accusatory banter as he normally has — wolf in sheep’s clothes; play nice, play nice, play nice — he instead grabs her by the lapels of her denim jacket, hoists her off the crates, and slams her back against the church’s vinyl siding. Pink lips part as the wind is knocked from her lungs with a low oof. She stares up at him dazed and doe-eyed. It only lasts for a moment, but it’s a taste of the submission he so badly craves from her. 

And then her teeth are baring in a ferocious snarl. Her hands fly up to grasp his wrists and with a hissed, “Get your hands off me,” she kicks her leg out, trying to sweep his knees. The motion gives him just enough space to push between her thighs and press his hips flush with hers, pinning her in place. She wriggles and thrashes against him. Spittle flies from her lips as her teeth gnash angrily together. 

Yet despite her struggling, her head angles to the side. The pale column of her neck stretches out before him and the Wolf takes over. He leans down until the slope of his nose is nuzzling against soft skin and he inhales deeply, drinking in her musk. His tongue darts out to lap at the light sheen coating her skin. The salty-sweet taste blooms across his tongue. A pleased rumble vibrates low and deep in his chest.

She responds with a growl of her own, but the arch of her back betrays her. Thin, but obviously muscular arms wrap around his neck as she steadies herself against the solid mass of his body. One hand claws at the space between his shoulder blades while the other tangles itself in the crop of hair atop his head. 

“You’re late,” he growls. Sharp teeth graze over her thundering pulse. He seals his mouth against her throat, savoring the way it flutters against his lips. His head spins at the sensation. He’s so close to her mating bond — can fucking smell the pheromones releasing as he rocks his hips up and ruts against the heat between her thighs. 

In a half-hearted attempt to pull him away, she gives his hair a harsh tug. “You’re damn lucky I showed up at all,” she grits through clenched teeth. “Now, lemme go.”

He snaps his teeth to nip at her earlobe and a sardonic laugh rumbles deep in his chest at her barely suppressed shudder. “Oh, no, honey. You’re lucky you came to your senses.” His voice drops, deep and threatening. “I’d’ve hunt you down, otherwise.”

“I’d’a like to see you try.”

“Careful what you offer, sweetheart,” he hums. “I might just take you up on it.”

Her breath hitches, and from where he is, so close to her pulse, he hears her heart racing in excitement. And maybe it’s the remnants of her time with Eli, but as he goes to lick his lips, he swears he tastes something sweet and citrusy blooming in the air. 

Arousal. 

Hers, specifically. 

His Wolf is begging him to fuck her. Put her in her place and establish hierarchy. Throw her to the ground. Claim her. Own her. All he wants is to rip her apart and for her to return the favor. He has half a mind to throw her over his shoulder and slam her against the flatbed of his truck and show her just how much she belongs to him. 

Only him.

and posting a silly little dnd related doodle i did earlier today that's really for myself and three other people, but it's been a while since i've drawn something and i can't wait to get home so i can slap some colors on this. the party's tiefling artificer pulls the puppy-dog eyes and every time that happens this is what i picture my npcs seeing

taglist:

@josephseedismyfather, @la-grosse-patate, @tommyarashikage, @florbelles, @statichvm

@fourlittleseedlings, @wrathfulrook, @harmonyowl, @ivymarquis, @carlosoliveiraa

@cassietrn, @confidentandgood, @strafethesesinners, @trench-rot, @miyabilicious,

@simplegenius042, @g0dspeeed, @inafieldofdaisies, @josephslittledeputy, @aceghosts,

@adelaidedrubman, @finding-comfort-in-rain, @voidika, @strangefable,

and anyone else wanting to share their wips today! (taglist opt in/out)

[thevillainswhore]

A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

Pairing: Dark!Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: It was an art - one that took many years and many sacrifices to perfect, and Steve had managed to become a master at it. There was just one thing he would not fully commit to sacrificing, at least not the important parts that kept life essence flowing: you.

Warnings: THIS IS A DARK FIC - PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - dead dove, kidnapping, mentions of smut (p in v), fingering and oral (fem receiving), implied non-con, degradation, restraints, physical abuse (face slapping), cannibalism (it’s Steve kemp what did you expect?), force feeding, hints of Stockholm syndrome?

A/N: Unbeta’d | dividers created by @rookthorne thank you for also helping me with the summary my love 🥰 | this oneshot was inspired by the lovely @smutconnoisseur who made me this absolutely stunning moodboard 😭 I just knew I had to write something as soon as I saw it. Thank you so much sweetie, loves you the most 🥹

“Let me go, you fucking psycho!”

Steve merely kept on humming to himself, happily slicing the meat in front of him into finely cut pieces. It took severe attention to detail to finesse the glide of the knife just right, cutting through as smooth as butter.

It had taken quite a long time to get his craft on the line of perfection - years in the making - and now that he’d finally mastered the art, it was as easy as riding a bike. The rush of adrenaline spiking his nerves gave him a hit unlike anything else in his life. This was what he was meant for. He’d wasted so much time not giving in before.

Wooden screeching against the floor snapped him out of his inner musings, eyes lifting up to see you fidgeting in your chair - presumably trying to escape, but the chains attached to your feet would keep you rooted.

Steve couldn’t help but notice how the glow of the candlelight surrounding you on the dinner table highlighted the beauty in the features of your face. Sunset orange dancing among the shadows, defining your cheekbones and your shoulders decorated in the straps of a pretty dress.

You were so beautiful. Perfect for him.

Placing the meat onto a skillet to cook, Steve wiped his hands and rounded the corner of the kitchen island to join you, the sudden bravado you had earlier evaporating while terror took over your body. His cock shouldn’t have gotten hard seeing the tears gathering on your lash line, but those glassy eyes reminded him of a deer in fright, ready to run. And fuck, would he love the chase.

“Bambi… join me.”

It was haunting, the kind smile Steve let loose as he held out his hand to you after arriving by your side. No wasn’t an answer, and you did well to stand up on your shaky legs - from still recovering or fear, he wasn’t sure - quietly proud of you either way.

Flashbacks of you clumsily tripping over the bed to go relieve yourself on the toilet crossed his mind as he brought you to the middle of the living room. After fucking you three times in one night, leaving you screaming his name and begging for more each time, he couldn’t help be prideful watching you stumble your way out of the room. Just like a doe learning to walk for the first time.

Of course, the chains rattling with each step you took while limping weren’t part of the memory. The heavy breaths were familiar though, smirk crawling onto his face as he imagined your adorable squeaks while he ate your cunt like he was man starved.

Once Steve had directed you into the middle of the living room rug, he brought you closer to him, slipping his arm over your waist as you flinched, and grabbing your other hand to hold as he began to slowly dance. He was thoughtful enough to keep his steps light and be extra careful with you.

Deciding it was too much of a distraction for you a long time ago, Steve had decided to forego music in the house - it let your mind switch off and he wanted your brain alert… in the present. Solely on him and every move he made. So, he graced you with his singing voice instead, whispering the lyrics to ‘Restless Heart’ in your ear.

Steve felt the shaking of your chest before your uncontrollable sobs cut through his singing. He’d be offended had he no clue how scared his Bambi was.

“What’s wrong, Bambi? Huh? Don’t you like it here with me?”

“I w-want to go h-home.” You stuttered.

Steve sighed and lifted your head up with his palms, kissing your forehead and leaning down to your watery eyeline to speak to you directly.

“Oh, baby…” his condescending tone gave away his faux concern for you, “you know I can’t let you do that.”

You began to heave, breaths coming in fast and heavy with panic - Steve almost felt a crack in his heart. Almost.

Truth be told, Steve knew you were it for him. Ever since he first saw you from the corner of his eye walking down the fruit and vegetable aisle, he’d been bewitched.

Youthful, tight skin, good looking.

You ticked all the boxes for him… and the rest of his client base.

He’d caught other women before - gorgeous, just the right amount of meat on their thighs to keep the buyers happy.

They were good. However, they didn’t compare to you.

Normally, Steve would be excited to find new prey. The cat and mouse play of picking out women to cut up and sell. But, you were different. Steve wanted you all for himself.

See, you weren’t just a pretty face, you were witty, funny, intelligent - maybe not smart enough to see what was coming, but he didn’t hold that against you, he was just too conniving after all.

And those goddamn dates he took you on, paving the path for his plan to come to fruition, when he found himself enjoying your company. Steve wanted to spend all of his time with you, willingly.

That was when he decided he didn’t want to go along with his usual plans. Instead, he wanted to date you. See where this relationship could go.

So, he took you to his house tucked away in a secluded area - the excuse of wanting a weekend without the modern world bothering you in disguise of your questioning to the lack of signal or Wi-Fi.

Honestly, he didn’t initially plan to drug you. The opportunity just… sprung onto him. Too tempting to not listen to his base instincts and ignore the spiked wine hidden in the alcohol cabinet.

A voice in the back of his head told him he shouldn’t be doing that, he vividly remembered it. The urge to get a kick out of his charades with someone as good as you overpowered it, though.

Steve wasn’t proud of himself afterwards, but how could he be blamed? He’d worked out a successful routine before he stumbled on you. Wooing girls fitting his mental meat quality checklist and eventually luring them into his second home. It was only natural to follow his instincts, what he’d made of himself.

You especially weren’t happy when you found yourself on his home operating table, opening your eyes to realise your boyfriend was taking your ass.

Weirdly, he didn’t find guilt in the thrill he took from that - that seemed to sicken you the most. He remembered how you lunged for him, screaming about the insanity of his pleasures when you woke up after the surgery to find him sitting in your caged prison. Cutting into your delicate skin to watch the stream of blood flow down your rump to then hearing him laughing to himself as he showed you the flesh stolen away from your body had your head spinning - dangling it from his fingers in front of your face.

It wasn’t too long after that you passed out from overexertion. If only you knew the way he used you to take care of himself after that.

It may have been confusing to understand, but Steve genuinely thought the world of you. Those few months of dating spent together changed his mind on whether he’d find a companion ever again.

Finding love alongside Steve’s hobby had been difficult to put it lightly. His first wife knew of his side activities coinciding with his doctoral career. That was why he settled being with her, someone who was accepting of who he was. But, although she may have put up with what he was doing, she didn’t initiate that spark within Steve - that buried, deep seated fire that begged to be set free. Steve wanted to be seen, to be loved in his entirety.

There was no shame in that.

That was what led to the downfall of his marriage, Steve was no longer interested in the farce of keeping up appearances with a woman who didn’t truly understand him. Which is why she had to go. Just divorcing wasn’t an option, she knew too much.

Then came along you. His pretty doe, who captured his heart from a glance.

As your hysteria whittled on, Steve hugged you tight to his chest.

He���d kept you here for a month in total now. Four glorious weeks of spending time with you alone, bonding together. Your feistiness only made his cock grow in his slacks whenever you put up a fight.

His little doe didn’t put out easy - just how he liked it.

As your tears continued to soak his dress shirt further, he shushed your cries, keeping you close and he swayed side to side in comfort.

The beeping of the oven hob, interrupted Steve’s attempt at soothing you. The meat was cooked and it was time to plate up the dinner he’d made for the two of you.

Bringing you away from his chest, Steve smoothed your hair behind your ears, wiping his thumbs under your swollen eyes to get rid of your tears. Holding your arm, he again directed you back towards the table to sit down, clamped your hands back into the cuffs attached before walking towards the kitchen.

Peaking over, Steve noticed you had calmed down and collected yourself by the time he was adding the peppermint sauce over the mashed potatoes and meat.

He had high hopes on your opinion of his cooking, what you thought mattered to him, believe it or not. It was his real passion beside becoming a plastic surgeon, and he wanted you of all people to like it.

Gracefully, Steve walked on over with his finished plates and set one on each placemat. Your head was bowed, eyes set on the meal set in front of you.

“What is it?”

Your mousy voice spoke up and had Steve looking down at you, lifting your chin up with two fingers so he could see your face.

“Your favourite, sweetheart. Steak and mashed potato.”

A shudder racked through your body as Steve smirked, dropping your face and grabbing the large napkin to fan out over your thighs. He smoothed the material over your legs and traced the tips of his fingers along your bare skin. The sight of you inching away didn’t sit well with Steve, pinching you to hear that familiar yelp he loved so much.

He began to get settled in his seat, combing his styled hair back with his fingers before beginning to cut up the meat on his plate.

“You remember our dinner date don't you, baby? You ordered the exact same thing when the waiter asked. Poor boy couldn’t keep his eyes to himself when I made you speak as I fucked you with my fingers.”

Steve knows you didn’t want him to hear the gasp that couldn’t be kept in. Adorable. You were still so shy around him.

But he didn’t appreciate how long your silence lingered, looking up to see you still staring down at your food, untouched.

The knife clashing down on the plate made you jump in your seat. You didn’t want to eat, no bother. Steve would help you.

Stabbing a cut of meat with his fork, Steve carefully leaned over the table to hold the steak up to your mouth for you to take a bite.

“Open up, my little doe.”

Steve saw your mouth opening up, happy to see you were cooperating with his request. You were finally making progress. Only for you to suddenly move your head to the side as he got close and bite down onto his hand, hard.

The fury built up in Steve as he snatched his hand away, fork scattering onto the table as he released it. In instant retaliation, Steve backhanded you across the face, sending your head whipping over to the side as blood spurted out your mouth.

“Bad girl.”

Blood from the force of his hit trickled down the corner of your mouth. You hadn’t moved from your spot for a second before Steve grabbed the front of your neck, bringing you closer over the table and ignoring your squeak of pain.

“Now, eat what I so graciously cooked you before I fucking force it down your throat.” His spit from the anger of his voice shot out onto your face. Steve shoved you back before slumping into his own seat once again.

His hot and cold nature always had you on edge, but you were used to it by now. Is that what he really deserved after being so thoughtful to you?

Steve observed you closely. Watching your every move should you try something like that again. Only would you get away with something like that once.

You picked up the fork dropped, meat still intact on the silverware and inspected it thoroughly. He knew you were looking for hints of poison or something that indicated he’d drugged you. He threatened it enough times for you to be wary.

He wasn’t sure what you would have preferred once you found out.

Opening your mouth, you placed the meat tenderly onto your tongue and closed to begin eating.

Steve waited until you had swallowed. Intently watching you chew before you were finished with your bite. He gave it a second before sitting back up, taking the fork from you and stabbing another piece, ready to start his meal.

Not before letting you in on his secret ingredient. “I always said you tasted good, didn’t I, Bambi?”

Cold dread visibly washed over your face as you went deadly quiet. Your hands began to abnormally shake. Steve just sat there and watched as your body went into emotional turmoil.

There wasn’t much you could have done, chained to the table, hyperventilating. It wasn’t even as if you could have stuck your fingers down your throat to throw it back up, fingers too far out of reach to even try. It didn’t stop you from dry heaving over the side of the table, retching loudly.

Eventually, the panic your body sent you in, along with your howling cries from despair allowed you to get worked up enough to throw up. Regurgitated meat mixed with bile landing on the carpet as Steve carried on eating - unfazed.

It took you a while for your body to finally relax, for your mind to comprehend what Steve just made you do. Sweat dripped down your face as you forced your body back upright, too weak to fully keep your eyes open as you hoarsely spoke.

“Why are you doing this?”

You looked defeated, body slumped with dark circles under your eyes, shivering like Steve hadn’t cranked the heating up.

Steve wiped his mouth. He understood you were an acquired taste, not for the lightheaded - you’d get used to it eventually though. He thought you were delicious, cleaning up his plate entirely.

He looked directly into your eyes after he finished eating, voice devoid of emotion. “Isn’t it obvious? I love you.”

Your reply is instant “No, you don’t.”

Darkness blackered his pupils. Body still and uptight as he went still. Steve pushed his plate away and leaned his forearms onto the table, never stopping staring as you squirmed in your seat.

“Don’t you ever question my love for you again. Do you hear me?”

You swallowed the presumed lump in your throat.

Steve couldn’t understand how you didn’t know how much he cared for you. You were here, eating in his dining room. He’d sacrificed customer sales by keeping you to himself. He loved you. You’d understand one day though. He’d make sure of it.

“Give it time, Bambi. I know you’ll learn to love me back.”

“And if I don’t?” There was one last inch of life in your eyes, a thin thread of hope holding on for dear life. Steve could see it clear as day, the embers in your irises dying out with each moment he took to answer.

He knew he had you then, the gut punch of his response blowing out the flame once and for all.

“Funny… you think you have a choice.”

[randoimago]

Hi there I just wanted to say I like your writing also can I please have headcanons for Zagreus,Thanatos,Megara and hypnos from hades with a gender neutral s/o who is the god of decay like their powers are able to suck the life force/energy out of any living being and slowly kill them and because of that a lot of people fear them and make rumors of them being this destructive/scary God when in reality their actually really nice and kind just kinda quiet and their also kinda lonely and depressed because of their powers and rumors that have been made about them and just wanna have companions/friends I hope this isn't too much to ask for I enjoy reading your writing ☺️💖🤗❤️

Very Sweet S/O Is the God of Decay

Fandom: Hades

Characters: Hypnos, Megaera, Thanatos, Zagreus

Type of Request: Headcanon

Notes: This is a very interesting request, I’ll do my best with it!!

Hypnos

Calls you a sheep in wolf’s clothing. That’s really what you are when you’re not causing some plague somewhere in the mortal realm.

If he’s ever asked what it’s like dating you because you’re this “big, scary god” then he just gasps and mentions all these horrible, awful things you do. “One time, they accidentally tried washing some colored clothing with white clothes!”

He’s really head over heels for you even if he acts like a little shit at times. If you ask anything of him then he’ll do it (so long as he doesn’t lose his job).

You’re just so precious and always has time for him (unlike his actual family) and so he wants you to feel just as loved.

Megaera

She understands having others view you as intimidating and unapproachable. She gets that, her sisters get that. You being pretty much the complete opposite is something that throws her for a bit of a loop.

In her mind, if you’re scary then you should work with it and use it to your advantage. You’re just a sweetheart and she’ll kill anyone that dares lay a hand on you.

Meg isn’t really the type to talk about you to a lot of people, but Zagreus and Thanatos know and they quickly befriend you (after they give you a bit of a graveyard talk, that is).

She is hesitant to introduce you to her sisters. Probably shows you Tisiphone first since you two are a lot alike in ways before going to Alecto, who she quickly threatens if she tries to harm you.

Thanatos

He heard the rumors and so he had it in his mind to be the utmost respectful to you as your job can’t be an easy one. And then he meets you and you’re apologizing and asking if he’s okay and if you can do anything to make him comfortable with his visit.

He doesn’t know if he’s ever fell in love that fast. You’re just so pure despite your title. He vows to protect and keep you safe when you two start being together.

Thanatos understands being lonely due to being feared, so he tries to introduce you to Zagreus and Meg as they have been his lights in darkness for so long and hope you can be friends with them. He also secretly hopes his best friends like his S/O.

Definitely talks about you to Nyx before actually introducing you to his mother. Doesn’t really want to introduce you to Hypnos as he knows there’s going to be lots of embarrassing stories, but he still does as he cares for his brother and wants his S/O to meet his family.

Zagreus

Of course he was a bit hesitant when he heard about your title the first time. But then he met you and felt guilt for judging you based on things he’s heard.

You get so many gifts from him. You’re just the sweetest and he wants you to feel treasured because you deserve it.

Is more than happy to tell others that you’re his S/O. He might get asked “aren’t you scared?” and the answer is always “hells no” because you’re amazing and he gladly tells you that all the time.

Zagreus knows so many people, he’ll happily introduce you to them all! He promises that some of them are even nice so you can have friends.

[reddbuster]

I've talked about this before but I don't think I worded it all that well so I kinda want to try again to articulate what it is that bothers me about Dahlia's writing cause I have some thoughts.

We really aren't supposed to like Dahlia. The text does not like her. She is supposed to be an evil, manipulative girl. A wolf in sheep's clothing. This is made very clear. From the moment we are introduced to her character, Mia herself very clearly doesn't like her. She is written to be a difficult and frustrating witness, having already wrapped most of the courtroom around her finger. Cross examining her is even more of an uphill battle than usual. The first time we beat her in turnabout memories is satisfying to the player, because we know justice is being served. Even when we learn her story, we aren't really lead to closely examine or to sympathize with it. Because Ace Attorney is not a game in which we decide if someone deserves to go to jail. It's a game where we deduce whether or not someone is a criminal. And Dahlia, by definition, is undoubtedly a criminal. She's a liar, and a manipulator, and a serial murderer. Mind you, the game isn’t COMPLETELY unsympathetic to her situation. Iris, her twin and narrative foil of a sort, Is an example of the kind of person Dahlia could have become if her circumstances were different. Iris even says as much herself. Ace Attorney acknowledges that Dahlia is a victim of her circumstances, at least to an extent. But it also treats her as if she’s too far gone to be worthy of any kind of closure. And more than anything else that's what bothers me about her story. Because if you take a minute to think about her at all beyond this very orthodox formalist lens she's SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT. She's suuuuch an interesting and complex and compelling character if you look below the surface but the game really doesn't encourage you to do that and that makes me really sad honestly. From a psychoanalytic lens I personally think that agency (or the perceived lack-thereof) is a big point in her story and that more than anything is what makes me want to write about her from a feminist lens, because agency is a really big point of feminist literary theory.

I've seen a couple people say that they don't think Dahlia needs to be thought about deeply because they see her as a cartoonish sort of villain character like Manfred and Engarde. And obviously this isn't an objectively wrong reading, anyone who follows me knows that I'm the first person to tell you that are multiple good and valid readings of a text. But PERSONALLY I disagree with this. I think Manfred is easier to read like that because he doesn't really have an.. understandable reason for any of his crimes? Like lets be real the murder of Gregory Edgeworth was petty as hell. Personally I think he's pretty interesting himself and worth thinking about deeper esp after watching the anime but I also thinks he fulfills the role of capital V Villain in the game really well so you don't need to if he doesn't compel you that much. Engarde imo is much more interesting as a character if you view him as a culmination of the game's themes, or as a device to cause conflict within other characters. Ofc you can psychoanalyze him to hell and back if that's what you wanna do, but you really don't need to at all. Dahlia on the other hand.. way too much has happened to her for me to comfortably read her as just Girlboss Manipulator Villain™. The more I think about Dahlia the more I appreciate her as a character, and it makes aa3 even better to me. Of course it also brings to light some of my issues with the game, but even so everything just hits harder when you consider the ending of aa3 from everyone's perspective. It's just such a bittersweet conclusion it hits me in the feels very time.

anyway TLDR I support women's wrongs and I personally think Dahlia deserved better from the story. I dunno the more I think about her the more her story just makes me sad and I just wish they gave her some kind of closure in the end. This is just my take tho don't come after me ok thankies

[yoayoaa]

YELLO AGAIN!! I was wondering if I could request a cybertronian! Y/n that's kinda like a sheep as their alt but they can also transform into a wolf as their other alt but rarely and Y/n is shy on the outside but scary on the inside! I'm also wondering if you can make it as a scenario for Transformer mtmte? :DD

HELLO HAHA, OF COURSE YOU COULD JAKFJA

Prompt: mtmte characters with a cybertronian!reader who has an alt mode of a sheep and wolf

Warnings: a bit of spoilers, im not using [y/n] in this :")

Notes: man this is basically wolf in sheep's clothing 😭😭 BUT ANYWAYS THIS IS FUN TO WRITE BUT A BIT CHALLENGING- although a bit short, HOPE YOU ENJOY! (Lets act that Overlord was successfully ejected from the lost light 💀)

The very last place you'd be expecting to be in was the Lost Light, but here you are now. Most bots there knew you for your alt mode, which resembles earth's sheep. Many said your shy and gentle behaviour matches your alt mode, little did they know you have a second one. Your rarely use your wolf alt mode, it was only used during dire situations...like right now. It was suppose to be a calm day, until Overlord broke free during one of Chromedome's interrogation and has left many injured.

Unfortunately you were caught up in the fight between the bots and the con, you were forced to use your wolf alt mode to defend yourself. Not many payed any mind other than the fact that theres a cyberwolf on the ship, also at the fact how you're more aggressive in this mode. Rodimus was finally able to momentarily stunt Overlord and was herded back by Fort Max. Still in your wolf mode, you saw bright orange pedes walking towards you. It was none other than Rodimus himself. "You have two alt modes? I thought your sheep alt mode was your only one." He asked, probably still baffled at the display you have shown.

"Well, i was never forced to use this mode anyways" You answered him. You can see a few bots looking your way, they're not used to seeing their very shy and gentle bot suddenly becoming a big bad wolf with a complete opposite vibe and looks. "I am never going to get used on how scary you are when you're always so shy..." Rodimus commented. You chuckled and jokingly said "Well get used to it, who knows you might see this again."

Meanwhile Fort Max just stood silently, not having a single comment 💀

[jerrythekazoo]

I’ve seen a lot of talk around the symbolism of Saltburn and the mythology it references, but something I was thinking about is the more “simple” symbolism.

Like of course Oliver is meant to be the Minotaur in the maze, but I find it so interesting that at the party scene he’s wearing antlers. It reminds me of a deer in the headlights, being laid bare in the harsh light to what he truly is; a liar, a cheat, a *parasite* even. Felix saw a glimpse of what Oliver was. And all he could do was watch it happen. Except Oliver is not just a deer. He’s much worse than that—like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Deer are seen as skittish and weak, just like how Felix views Oliver. A soft, quiet boy that needs saving from the world around him. But he may have antlers and hooves and fur, but by god he is Not what you’d want to find at night. Much like those horror renditions of deer standing up, snarling at you in ways they should not be able to. Oliver may be a deer in the headlights, but he is not going to let Felix swerve. If he’s going down, he’s taking them both to hell.

There’s also Felix and his wings, where he is Icarus but could also be a bird, a young free spirit that was torn apart by something that Needed him dead. He wasn’t killed for sport—that would imply that Oliver enjoyed it—but out of desperation. Felix was a beautiful song bird that entranced Oliver, but by the end his songs were a warning to all the other forest animals that Oliver was Not One of Them.

Sorry for rambling and generally being incoherent, I didn’t get much sleep last night😭. But I hope I got my message across lol.

[marshallpupfan]

sorry if you've been asked this a lot before but what are some of your favorite episodes of paw patrol?

Unsurprisingly, many of my favorite focus on Marshall, such as...

Season 2's "Pups Leave Marshall Home Alone" (which is easily my #1 favorite episode).

Season 3's "A Pup in Sheep's Clothing" (that sheep costume's way too cuuuuuuute! 😍)

Season 8's "Pups Save a Yodeler" (My favorite pup becomes the pack leader of my favorite animal? Win, win!)

Another from season 2, "Pups Save a Friend" (a real feel-good episode, if you ask me).

And... many other Marshall episodes. Okay, okay, believe it or not, I do enjoy some episodes that don't focus on him! I swear, I really do! And some of them include...

Season 6's "Pups Save a White Wolf" (an Everest episode that involves white wolves).

Season 5's "Pups and the Werepuppy" (the one where Rocky transforms into a werepuppy, which... er... might as well be a wolf. Okay, apparently I'm in a rut. lol)

Season 3's "Pups Save a Windsurfing Pig" (which does not contain a wolf, but it does have my favorite comedic bit involving Rocky).

Season 1's "Pups Turn on the Lights" (which is a rather cute one... particularly when Marshall tries his best to keep a secret from Chase. Guess I can't get away form the spotted one for too long. 😅)

Among others, of course. Some I didn't mention, regardless of who they involve, includes both Pup-Fu episodes, many of the Ultimate Rescues (particularly Marshall's first one, Chase's first one, and Rocky's only UR), Pup Pup Boogie, Pups Save Heady Humdinger, Pup Pup Goose, among others.

[ghouljams]

I had a super cool art idea I plan on doing that I need your help for but I have no idea if my ramblings are gonna make sense (I am high on Benadryl)

Can you give me descriptions for all the darlings in the fae au? Not like physical descriptions, but aesthetic and vibes. I tried to scroll through all the fae posts and take notes but I can’t form coherent enough thoughts to actually write things down

I really really really love your fae au and I want to make some art for it because I don’t need to be lucid to make art :)

(Also I should clarify that I’m not high on Benadryl for shits and giggles, I have allergies. Although I guess you probably didn’t need to know that. It’s fine. I’m only somewhat incomprehensible)

Aesthetic and vibes I can do. I'm still gonna pop them under a read more, so folks can ignore this if they don't wanna know.

Love: 80's bowling alley carpet. She always makes me think of those color block button downs from the 80's. Bright colors and DIYs, patchwork but put together. Baked goods and afternoons on the couch. Steals Ghost's clothes, but likes to look good. Rapid changes between 80s and y2k aesthetics.

Liebling: Not afraid to get her hands dirty, function over form. Greenery, dark wood, sunlight, dirty aprons, beat up jeans. Neat but not dressing up on the regular. Love probably makes plant pun shirts for her. Forest vibes, scary dog privilege, chains and heavy leashes(For König of course).

Witch: Feels very handmade. Not DIY, very distinctly well made in a way that feels a little out dated. Antiques, brass, glass jars with paper labels, dried plants, overgrown gardens, warm tones. Functional in a different way from Liebling, the type to carry things in her skirt like a kid.

Threat: Leather jackets, hard alcohol, dark bars, graffiti on bathroom stalls, wolf in sheep's clothing. Sharp teeth and blood, neon lights and ringer tees.

Crybaby: Baby blues. Comfortable paint stained clothes, colorful and artsy. Messy desks and miniatures, jars of paint and dirty brushes. Flannel blankets and checkered tile. Eyes, always watchful paranoia, whispers and things that go bump in the night. Bloody baseball bats. Final girl energy.

Gaz's Darling(No assigned callsign): Yellow and round edges, soft but strong. In my first draft Gaz describes his energy as very "pink" in reference to how stable they seem. Cherries(Thank you Gaz). Hands, smiles, rope/cord jewelry, affirmations, sneakers by the door and footie games. Street wear vibes, similar to Love in wanting to look good even in sweats.