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biteyoubiteme · 7 months ago

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cat got your tongue?

yeonjun x fem!reader

synopsis: you and yeonjun are both models.

warnings: 🔞!!! spit kink if you squint, no protection, creampie, dom!yeonjun, manhandling, bondage (uses his tie on readers wrists), fingering, oral (f!rec),mentions of cum eating prob forgot some sorry

wc: 2.7k me when I lie and say these will all be 1-2k

an: I do not think this is my best work I think I just struggle with dom!member and I apologize lol this wasnt really requested but was taken as such ily @apeachty this was sent before the event post but on the same day so im adding it to the tag anyways lol this is not proof read forgive me sweet angels ill fall on my sword for you.

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

You would have to spend over a month traveling together. Over a month of back and forth, car rides, flights, hotel rooms, runways, and photo shoots all while trying to deny dating rumors. The contract was easy enough, but the money earned was less impressive than the exposer. To be the face of a company for an entire season, tied to one of the biggest names in modeling history, not only the fashion house but the model himself who set trends and made people famous for one little interaction. It was a brand deal people dreamed of.

The pen cleared the signature box faster than you ever thought you could sign your name. But then the nerves set in. It wasn't over doing your job, modeling, although hard, was now second nature. You worked well with almost every photographer you came across, following instructions without a fret, even when it came to runway you knew your walk was one companies begged to have on their sets.

But it was him that left you questioning your abilities. He had been the only clause in the contract that made you second guess yourself. Yeonjun was well known not only in the modeling community itself but globally. His face was splashed across countless brands, ads, and billboards. You couldn't go a day without seeing him at least once on your timeline. Even at the grocery store, in line at the checkout, he looked back at you with his perfect pouty lips from the front of a magazine you could only dream of being on the cover of as often as he was.

“You were specifically asked for,” your agent reminded you after you brought up the status difference. It wasn't as if you were not known, companies wanted you well enough that you wouldn't need the check from this single one month booking. It was the caliber at which he was held. “They want you and I wouldn't be the one to turn them away when this much press will be on you. Imagine the number of people calling to get one shoot in with you, he brings eyes,”

It wasn't until your first photoshoot that you realized that he would be more of a pain in your ass than an inspiration. He was never mean, you would have to give him that. But it was his overwhelming kindness mixed with the teasing tone he always used on you that somehow pushed your buttons just right. It didn't help that the first time that you walked into the studio you were so shy, little smiles shared with your hands folded in front of you trying to wring out your anxiety. Yeonjun wasn't even on set yet, having shown up a few minutes later with his arms full of coffee, passing them out to each staff member, knowing them all by name. “It's nice to meet you finally. I didn't know what you would like but this is what I picked out for the little mouse,”

“Little mouse?” it was the first thing you said to him, your head tilted just enough for him to take in the question and know the slip up of a nickname was going to stick especially when you couldn't get through the photoshoot without an apology. Shoulders stiff with his eyes on you, your nerves making you angry instead of anxious and it all had to do with the little grin set at the edge of yeonjun mouth. “I'll just step out,” and you hated how improved your film was from his absence, your heart calming down its rapt beading.

Of course you got over it eventually, or at least the stiffness. You couldn't afford to be stiff when standing next to yeonjun who was naturally relaxed about everything. He would slink to his spot on set, lay his lazy gaze in your direction, and get all of his shots in the minimal amount of frames as if he was born to be in front of the camera. It was annoying.

The two of you would be set up next to each other in hair and makeup, your bottom lip is finely brushed with the end of a glosses wand when he would lean on the back of your chair. His hands were always just hovering over your shoulders, never quite touching but enough to feel the heat from his palms, his head leaning next to yours looking back at you in the mirror, “You guys did such a good job, don't we just look like the perfect pair?” he would quirk an eyebrow at you, the two of you staring each other down while the staff agreed, but he was always waiting for your answer, “don't we little mouse?”

“If you think so,” your response always made him chuckle as if you didn't see the way the media was talking about your contract together, as if you didn't feel the chemistry between the two of you. People were still talking about your first runway together, the closing of the show for one of the best collections put on display that week.

The lead up was so chaotic, with dressing rooms stacked full of models and assistants, the floor a mess of people undressing and trying to make their quick changes as fast as they could before their names were called. Even yeonjun could feel the pressure in the room, the two of you in your designated corner stripping down back to back.

The crowded space made everyone bump into each other. For the smallest second you were caught by the sight of him taking his shirt off, pulling it at the back of his collar showing the way his jeans hung so low on his hips that his happy trail was on display. You had turned, taking off your shirt, shoulder knocked by someone coming to do your hair, it made you stumble back into yeonjun, his hand right at the small of your back holding you upright as you fumbled with the zipper on your pants. “Careful,” he muttered, your heart in your ears as you kicked your shoes away from your space.

The two of you were used to seeing each other in different versions of undress after all the photoshoots shared together. Comfortable enough now to be somewhat friends after all the car rides, the few interviews, and hours spent on a set together. It's what you accounted for as your key element to having such a good walk together on the runway. Every step matched, the energy vibrating off the two of you as if you had been a duo your whole life instead of just having been paired together less than a month ago.

Even at the afterparty people swarmed you two, asking about your relationship as if they could sense the livewire of that conversation hanging around your heads. It was the first time you had ever seen him flustered enough to stutter over an answer. “I um- you never know,”

The paparazzi loved the two of you, the crowd outside any event was packed full of them, their cameras following you around the city. The two of you always shared a car to your hotels, yeonjuns hand warm in yours leading you through the flash of every blinding light while you tried to shield your eyes. He would pull you in front of him when you finally reached the waiting car door, hand on your back gilding you in before climbing in after.

Even shutting the door behind the two of you only muffled the sounds of their questions to a faint murmur. It isn't until the car pulls away from the venue that yeonjun speaks up.

“You did well tonight, you looked…”

“Good, I hope,”

“You always look good, better than good, i was trying to come up with a different adjective,” it wasn't the first time he's complimented you, but it never stopped you from logging it away to giggle over it in private. “Sometimes I don't know what to say to you,”

You chuckle, “I never took you as shy,”

Strands of his hair hang in his eyes, head tilted just enough to catch what little light makes it in from the tinted windows, “no, not shy, just cautious,”

“What, afraid you'll break me? Hurt my feelings? Or maybe my ego will get too big,”

He lets out a soft breathy laugh, the sound taking up the space in the backseat. You loved the way his chuckles went down your spine, like a caress of his fingers on the skin you wished he touched. “You’d let me get close enough to break you?”

“I don't think you could,” it's a light jab and yet it sets everything off kelter. The car ride charged with an energy you couldn't get back into its box. Now opened, the two of you looked back at each other as if you hadn't felt this pot simmering over.

His eyes flickered down to your mouth, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he shrugged, “Okay,” he loved that you wanted to play this game with him, as if you hadn't always been slowly picking away at the short wall between you two. It was inevitable that you would end up pressed up against the mirrored walls in the elevator up to your hotel floor.

He wasn't even going to do anything, he was going to let you go to your room while he mulled over your conversation, picturing exactly what he wanted to do to you. But then you leaned back against those mirrors, your body reflected around him as the doors slid closed behind him. Your eyes traced the line of him, lashes hooded just enough for you to look through, like a siren on the rocks, beckoning him closer. You didn't stop him when he cupped your jaw, thumb running over your bottom lip, nose dipping to yours. Even when he gave you enough time to pull away, lips ghosting over yours when he asked, “You'll be good for me, won't you?”

Your answer is hummed right into his mouth when he kisses you, devouring you, pushing you into the corner giving you nowhere to go. His body is hot against yours, cageing you in as he kisses down your jaw, sloppy wet spots cooling in the air as he nips at your neck. “God, imagine them having to cover up all the marks I leave on you during tomorrow's shoot,” his hand is heavy on your hip, dragging down you cup your cunt over your jeans, “Everyone is going to know I fucking ruined this pussy for anyone but me,”

Your whimper is eaten by the sound of the doors opening behind him, your tight grip on his shirt not loosening when he drags you out after him. He pushes you to his bed when you get past the threshold of his door. His slow walk to the nightstand to flick on the light gives you enough time to think about exactly what's happening.

He loosens his tie, veiny hands curled around the fabric as he nods his chin in your direction, “Take your clothes off,” it was only a few hours ago when he saw you topless, and yet your fingers shake when you reach for your hem. “Don't be shy now little mouse, always all talk and no play,”

The heat on your cheeks spreads to your ears at the nickname. Yeonjun takes to matching your state of undress by tossing his tie next to you before unbuttoning his shirt, the outline of him in his pants is mouthwatering. He watches the way you try to speak, hands twisting in the duvet not realizing he's come up so close to you before he's hooked his hand on your chin, tilting your head up before slipping his thumb into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. He swirls the digit around, grinning at how willing you are to follow his command even without words, “one day ill fuck this pretty mouth, but for now, I need you on your hands and knees for me,” he shoves your face away, putting his slick finger in his mouth to taste you.

Turning around and having him at your back is both chilling and exhilarating, not knowing when he's going to touch you until his hands are sliding up your back, unhooking your bra, and letting it fall off of you. He lets his hand press between your shoulder blades, pushing down hard enough for your arms to give way beneath you, the side of your face pressed into the sheets. “Every photoshoot I kept thinking about what it would be like to finally get you into my bed, I kept thinking about how I would finally fuck you, how exactly I could use your body,”

His hands slide down your arms, tugging them behind you until you whimper, the silky material of his tie sliding along your fingers as he wraps up your wrists to keep you in place. “And every time I just came right back to thinking about putting you just like this, fucking you dumb; using you like my perfect little toy,”

With one hand holding your tied wrists his other slips down to tease you over your soaked panties, fingers following the lines of your cunt like he was made to map you out by touch. You can't even form words and he hasn't done anything, your pathetic little whimpers pushing him further and further. “So quiet now, I wonder if it's because someone's scared I'll break her?”

“Please,” it's so soft you don't think he's even heard you, but he's aching for every little sound.

“Please what? What do you want me to do?” he pushes your panties aside, grinning at how wet you've gotten over so little. Your hips push back into his hand, his fingers slipping into you just enough to prep you for the stretch of taking him.

“Fuck me, break me, anything-” he's so quick to press his cock into you that you're gasping losing all thoughts. His fingers had done little to let you grasp the sheer size of him, even all your slick couldn't help that pleasure mixed with pain as his tip kissed your cervix.

He doesn't even hold off from moving, not once he's finally felt your warm gummy walls sucking him, so perfect he doesn't know how he will ever stop from coming back to you. He keeps one hand on your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, the other wrapped around the slack of his tie, tugging your arms and using them as leverage to keep his harsh pace as he fucks into your greedy cunt.

You feel so full, so completely stuffed that you're a mess of incoherent moans mixing with the slapping sounds of your connecting bodies. Yeonjun is mesmerized by the way your ass ripples with each slap of his hips; mesmerized by the way his cock is disappearing in and out of you. “So fucking perfect,” he's grunting, “I'm going to fill up and then eat my little mouse out until she screams, kiss your pussy better after taking me so well, does that sound good?”

“Yes, god yes!” Your voice is muffled by the way you are pressed into the mattress, arms slightly numb as he pummels himself into you, thrusts getting sloppier with the build up of his orgasm. He tells himself that he will pull out but then he's cumming, body shuddering as you clench around him, his rumbling moans following the steady pulse of his leaking cock.

When he pulls out of you he watches the way the dribbling cream coats your puffy lips. Untying your hands he lets you roll onto your back, slotting himself between your legs and attaching his mouth to your swollen clit. Your fingers still gaining feeling fall to his hair, pulling on the strands and he brings your orgasm back to the surface. The obscene sounds coming from his fingers trying to match his previous pace makes him chuckle, the feeling of his laugh vibrating against your clit. It takes little work for you to tumble into your orgasm when he curls his fingers just right, your body following every command he lays down.

His hand is covered in your combined cum when he's done with you, the stickiness capturing both of your attention before he shoves them into your waiting mouth.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

#cams!1kevent #txt x reader #txt smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #txt yeonjun #yeonjun #kpop smut #soobin #beomgyu #taehyun #huening kai

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skywalkoverme · 24 days ago

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𝐀 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐦 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝

a/n: CONSENTING ADULTS in every part of this fic.

𐙚 Hayden Christensen x Fem! Reader 𐙚 18+ MDNI

Summary: You attend an after party with your boss.

Warnings/contains: weird hollywood-eque party, some f/f, humiliation kink, praise kink, choking, collared partner, cnc drinking, alcohol consumption, forced submission, sub training, nipple teasing, sexual teasing, proof read-- english is not my first language!

W/c: 1.4k // More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

On Set: Revenge of the Sith

“Water?” He stared at the stainless-steel bottle that you held; his last name engraved near the lip. The man shook his head, “No, thank you.” You nodded, he had asked for it many minutes ago when you were caught up--- “Tell Carrie: this thing keeps poking me.” He directs your attention to his hip where a loose buckle on his costume pressed into his side.

“Yes, Mr. Christensen!” You urgently took a photo with your camera and ran across the set to the changing rooms. Holding a beaded dress, a woman in all black twirled a pen, “Turn for me.” She directed a young woman who held her arms out. “Ok, put this one on and we’ll see how it flatters you.” She offered her the beaded dress and turned around. “Y/n! Quiet as a mouse, as always.”

You raised a small smile, “It’s Mister Christensen.”

“Hm, cat and mouse.” She'd only hear him call you 'mouse', thinking it was a cute name in regard to your quiet nature. You showed the photo of his wardrobe malfunction, “That won’t do.”

Before you both could head his way, your phone began to ring. “Yes, sir!”

He sipped from his water bottle, “Y/n, where are you?” He asked rather curiously, looking around with the phone to his ear.

“With Miss Carrie!”

“Come here.” He said as if reminding you where you were. “We start in fifteen.”

Carrie rolled her eyes playfully and began to walk towards the main set. “Cat and mouse…”

You followed her, still holding a bag of any immediate necessities that Hayden might need as well as your planner with his complete schedule and routines. “There you are.” He sighed and showed Carrie the malfunction. She took a needle and sealed off the side before adjusting the metal prong.

Hayden stared at you, a small squint. You looked around and then back at him, “Me? Do you want to see your planner?”

“Hm. No. Just read it off to me.” He sighed as the woman checked him for any other malfunctions.

“For today?” You flipped through your neat notes, “I’ll get your lunch and then we leave here at two.” You followed him to a hand washing station, “Matt will drive you to the house and you’ll have an interviewer come at four.” His expression faltered into something tense, “It’s written.”

“How much do these people need to know?” He laughed and took a towel from your hand. The man dried his palms and gave it back to you.

“I think they’re happy to see you back as Anakin.” You followed him with a smile.

He said nothing at first as he took his place on set. “Them or you, Mouse?” You scratched the back of your hand and turned away from him; your cheeks flushed at the name. It sounded different coming from his mouth, especially when he wore that smirk.

A few nights ago

Hayden chuckled as you kneeled at the table, your knees pressed in the rug as you dirtied the gown that hugged your body. You threw back a shot and stared at the young woman across the table from you; light caught on your collar and shone in her eye. Hayden pats your cheek and tightens the loose collar. “Look’a’that. It matches your dress this time.”

“Give me your hands.” He wrapped his belt around your wrists and secured them together.

This had to be some form of a humiliation ritual: this game you ended up playing once every few months. You pressed your lips on the other side of the glass, your noses crossed as you lapped up alcohol. Her tongue slid across yours each time, your lips mingling as the bitter alcohol burned your throat. This game is a team effort and you both are on the same team, so it was only right that your entire focus was on her (and pleasing your boss, Hayden).

Hayden held your hair back as your lips brushed against hers. “C’mon, Y/n!” He’d bet money on you. Not a lot but well over his means for the night. You still had another drink to finish and the team of girls beside you weren’t willing to spare you both.

His legs were on either side of your body as he leaned over you, holding your head down into the glass. You finished it quickly and he guided your head by your hair to the next drink: two separate bowls of vodka + soda. Your teammate took a moment to catch her breath and drank from a bottle of water.

Hayden watched you take small laps of the drink, “Don’t be modest, mouse.” A drunken edge to his tone as he pulled at your collar and pushed your head lower. If you were wearing panties, they’d be soaked by now. The “referee” watched as you slurped from the top greedily; your false eyelashes faltered from their correct position and your bound wrists rest behind your back.

You continued to drink and before you knew it, Hayden pulled your head up to face him. “Good girl!” His lips embraced yours messily as the group around you cheered. “Bashful little thing.” He took another sip of his drink while you squinted in the limelight. He pulled the glass from his lips, “Mouse.”

He chuckled as the wallet from his pocket fell out. “Pick it up.” He’s inescapable. No matter if you were on the clock or off. You found yourself serving him like a pet. At least it was less humiliating in places like this where you’d find many others doing the same things. Your tongue brushed the floor as you took the wallet between your teeth and settled the leather on his thigh.

A sadistic smile crossed his lips as he took his beer bottle from earlier and let it roll between a few people until it was a far enough distance for you to chase. “Go fetch.” Mindlessly, you found yourself crawling to the bottle as it rolled further. A few guests stopped their touching and tasting of each other to observe your obedience. You took the neck of the bottle into your mouth; loose dirt dirtied the side as you held it tightly in your warm mouth. The rim pressed deep in your mouth as it tried its best to leave your mouth.

Hayden waved two fingers down and you sat beneath him on your feet, your hands still behind your back as he raised a single finger up. You raised your chin higher and straightened your posture. “You’re sucha’ good listener. I’m so proud of you.” He directed your head down and you placed the bottle on the floor at his feet. “It must feel so nice to be a good girl.” You couldn’t control yourself as you rocked from side to side. Not unlike a dog. The attention slowly was drawn off your excited body as time passed. Your breathing sped up as he brushed a hand over your hand nipples in a ghostly manner. “You did something new, didn’t you?” His softened blue eyes stared into yours, “You shared.” Enthusiastically, you nodded and took his thumb into your mouth.

He used his thumb to pull your jaw down; the pad of the digit pressed on your piercing. “I think it’s time to get you back to our room.”

a/n: this has been in my drafts since I started my account (a month)

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jar0fhoney · 10 months ago

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PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 (NSFW) - PART 4 -

PART 5 (NSFW) - PART 6 - PART 7 (NSFW) - PART 8 (NSFW)

Odd things started happening.

You unlocked the door to your shop, and you could hear a pin drop. And that’s just it. It was quiet. Something so small, so simple. But you noticed it immediately. The hinges of the door had been oiled. You opened and closed the door so many times… you probably looked quite mad to onlookers. You gasped when inside the shop you noticed another repair. The window. The one you had boarded up, fixed good as new. Instead of relief, a wave of worry was beginning to wash over you. Was this a joke? Was Milo doing this just to let winter take it all away? Or giving you a taste of what you could have if you surrendered to his advances.

The thought began to cross your mind recently. The days were beginning to grow longer, and the sun grew more stifling. Spring was melting into summer. You and your mother were beginning to find proof of pests and varmints making a feast out of the fields. When you had your sisters and your mother was stronger, winter wasn’t such a frightening thought.

tap tap tap. You looked around the shop. A mouse? Tap tap tap.

You looked to the window, and there he was.

”We keep meeting each other like this.” His voice muffled through the glass. “You’re a lot more bold without your friends around.” You retorted. His smile faltered, “I’m a coward.”

You laughed. This orc hunter? Cowardly?

”Here.” He held something up into the window. A lumpy burlap rucksack. “It’s Turmeric. But… for growing. In the dirt.”

You walked over and opened the window. “Why?” You were cautious, you didn’t trust “gifts” from men anymore. He tossed the bag on your counter, “Those golden eggs you gave me, the boys said they were just like home… thank you.” His gaze was so piercing, you felt your face grow hot. “How much for these?” You tore your eyes away from him towards the burlap bag.

“Nothing. Just keep making them, and I’ll tell everyone to come here and keep buying them!” He seemed absolutely giddy. “This orc must really love pickled eggs.” you thought to yourself.

“I see Milo around here pretty often.”

”You’ve been watching?” His face got very red at your reply. “Well regardless,” He didn’t deny your accusation, “He seems real sweet on you.”

”He can go fuck himself.” You hissed. Khargaad’s eyes widened. “I refuse to give him what he wants and I think it’s nearly driven him mad.” He looked at you expectantly, like he was hanging onto your every word. You paused before you went on with your rant, “How do you know him?” You realized you should know if the two were chummy before cursing Milo’s name.

“When you hunt big game, you end up meeting the people with enough money to pay you to hunt said game. But we are not friends, if that’s what you’re getting at.” You sighed in relief. “Hey,” you said changing the subject, “come in here and pick something out. On the house. I really appreciate these.” You patted the burlap sack. He grinned and shimmied his way through the doorway. You hadn’t had the chance to fully appreciate his size. He had to crouch to fit beneath the low ceiling, but you guessed he must be 7 feet tall standing fully upright. And his arms, oh his arms. Big and thick like two tree branches. You were staring. You didn’t realize it before you caught his eye and yanked yourself back behind the counter, counting your coins.

He quietly pondered over all of the jars of pickled vegetables. “What’s in this?” You heard him ask. You didn’t bother looking up from your coins, “It’s written on the label.”

”Are you kidding?” His voice lacked any light-hearted tone. You glanced up from your counting. He looked at you, then at the label, then back at you again. “Don’t you remember? What those two said when you mentioned the recipe?”

“That you were illiterate?”

”No, they said I couldn’t read, y/n.” Was he yanking your chain right now? That’s what you just- “OH… oh. I thought… they were kidding.” The words eked past your lips. The poor orc had a pained look of embarrassment on his face. Before he could even conjure up of an answer, the words tumbled out your mouth like a turned over bushel of apples.

“I’ll teach you!”

He peered over at you, his cheeks were very flushed. “No one has ever tried to teach me before.” You smiled very sweetly at him, “And I have never grown turmeric in my garden before. But here you are. And here I am.” It only took him one and a half strides to meet you at the counter across the room. “What can I give you in return?” It almost sounded like he was pleading.

You chuckled, “It’s a gift, Khargaad.” He was so close now that you could smell the smokey leather scent coming off of him. You probably should have been embarrassed to take such a noticeably large inhale of it. But it was too lovely for you to care. You couldn’t have known his own sensitive scent receptors were going haywire this close to you.

“I should go now. Thank you. I’ll be back.” He said shortly. He left so quickly he forgot his jar of pickled vegetables.

He had to leave. Had to. You smelled so sweet. He felt awful. Thinking like that. About you.

He found himself in the forest, back pressed up against a tree. So much blood had rushed to the orc’s cock it was becoming painful. He winced, palming himself over the strained trousers. He frantically pulled at the strings of his waistband, the fabric pooling down around his thighs. “Ah!” Gods, the noises that were coming out of his mouth were sinful.

He ran a hand down the trail of hair leading to his cock. “O- oh. F-fuck.” He wrap one hand around the base, already fucking himself in and out of his fist. He won’t last long. Not with the memory of your scent still fresh in his mind. He would bet his right hand that you taste just as sweet.

It felt so wrong, but Gods when you walked into that town square wearing that dress. He knew you had used the spice he gave you. And on that day, it was wrapped so pretty against your body. Around your waist. Around your breasts. The briskness of the spring morning making your nipples poke through the gauzy fabric.

He didn’t last long, his hot milky cum dribbled over his fingers. He couldn’t do this again. It was an insult to you. It was filthy. You were kind. You were generous.

From this day forward, he was determined to court you. Properly.

The sky was purple and orange in twilight. The street was uncharacteristically vacant that evening, but you didn’t think much of it. You didn’t think to watch the front door. And you certainly didn’t hear the person who had quite silently slipped through the entrance.

You screamed. You really screamed, when you felt an arm snake around your waist. But there wasn’t anybody around to hear you. “You’re going to die, y/n.” It was Milo and he was very drunk. The scent on his breath stung your nose. “You and your mother are going to die come winter. You can’t work fast enough to protect the rats from your fields. Not with two women. You’re mother can hardly walk anymore can she?”

His grip was digging into your waist, “And when winter comes, I won’t let anybody in this entire fucking town help you. I swear it, y/n.”

Milo was not an honorable man, but you knew this was one oath he intended on keeping. “Don’t do something stupid, Milo. Let’s be reasonable,” You seethed through your biting teeth, “There’s so many girls in this town, Milo. So many girls who are more rich, more beautiful, better family names-“ He brought his other hand to your neck and squeezed just a little bit.

”Do you know what people say? About a rich man who can’t even get the hand of a simple farm girl?”

“I can’t help your bruised ego-“ He squeezed your air pipes even tighter, making you choke on your words. “The Gods have blessed me, y/n. This morning I woke up, and I-“

”Hey.” A very gruff voice came from behind the two of you. Milo released you immediately, leaving a red ring around your neck. You knew that voice.

”You should go from here Milo.” Khargaad didn’t brandish a weapon. To kill a man he only needed his bare hands, after all. Milo trembled, hells even you trembled too. Milo threw his hands in the air light heartedly, “Lover’s quarrel-“

”Wrong. Leave. Don’t come back here.” Khargaad uncrossed his massive arms, taking a step to the side. Milo, the coward he was, stormed out the open door. Not before spitting on Khargaad’s boots. The orc didn’t stop him, stepping between you and the doorway. His eyes stayed trained on Milo as he stormed down the street.

You massaged your aching neck, the orc had a troubled look on his face, “Are you okay?” You weren’t. Of course you weren’t. You brushed him off, “I thought you were going to kill him.” He crossed his arms again, “I considered it. Trust me, I did. But what would you do after that? The son of the richest man in town. Killed by an orc. In your presence, in your shop after hours.” He was right. But there was a part of you who would’ve risked it all just to see Milo snuffed out.

Khargaad cleared his throat, “What was he talking about? With you and your mother? And the Farm?”

Shit.

Me: I’m gonna write something beautiful and meaningful :)

Also Me: Orc man experiences post-nut clarity in the forest >:)

As always: Hugs and smooches to everyone who asked for part 3 ❤️

@reads-stuff-quietly @loo-looland @sluttygirl123 @beaniebaneenie @blushycadaver @sunndust @whyiamadegenerate @the-attic-of-porcelain @freakyotaku059-blog @youknowits-derea @thoughts-of-bear-undercovers @allthecraftandthings @gruffle1 @kennedyabraxas123

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wonbloom · 4 months ago

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𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝

- 𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

in this series i bring you 7 stories about 7 members based on my favourite romance tropes!!

each fic will be posted weekly so stay tuned, alternatively, feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to my taglist (comment or send me an ask!) so you can be first to know when i post a fic!

all links, warnings and post dates will be updated accordingly !!

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

knight in shining armour (damsel in distress)

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

summary: it was pretty tiring being the townspeople’s favourite damsel in distress, and you were running out of handkerchiefs to give as thanks to the brave men that make their way through your humble town. good job a particularly handsome knight was willing to accept another form of payback as a token of your affection.

warnings: 18+

posted: tbd

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

all i really want (office romance)

pairing: park jongseong x fem!reader

summary: your boss was an ass, making you stay late every night when she leaves at 5 on the dot. it seemed your only company was gus the janitor until the fateful night when you bumped into jay from the floor below. maybe your long nights didn’t need to be so lonely.

warnings: 18+

posted: tbd

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

long way to go (sports romance)

pairing: jake sim x fem!reader

summary: forgetting to sign up for extra credit courses was so insanely unlike you, but it happened. leaving you here; assistant manager of your college's star soccer team. enter jake sim. captain, star player, and resident pain in your ass. good thing he hates you too, so you think, anyway.

warnings: 18+

posted: tbd

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

heart out (roommates to lovers)

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: when the apartment of your dreams comes with a slight hitch - the roommate from hell - there's only one way to solve the problem. a five step fool proof plan to exact revenge and drive him out. there's no way it could backfire.

warnings: 18+

posted: tbd

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

sugar mouse (small town romance)

pairing: kim sunoo x fem!reader

summary: going to stay with your great aunt in the middle of nowhere didn't exactly sound like the most exhilarating use of your summer, but at least you could get some good time sunbathing in. and the cute boy who worked at your aunt's favourite bakery was easy enough on the eyes. hopefully he tastes just as sweet.

warnings: 18+

posted: tbd

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

take me to your best friend's house (boy next door)

pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader

summary: yang jungwon has been your best friend since you were 8 years old. now, 10 years down the line and you're still inseparable. as the end of senior year approaches, both you and jungwon have some decisions to make, regarding your future and the feelings that threaten to change your relationship forever.

warnings: 18+

posted: tbd

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

she looks so perfect (opposites attract)

pairing: nishimura riki x fem!reader

summary: from an outsider's perspective, it would be hard to understand how a goody two shoes like you ended up with someone like riki, but it just worked. when you accidentally overhear something you weren't meant to, it sparks an idea, maybe the good girl should go bad after all.

warnings: 18+

posted: tbd

───── ⑅ ♡ ⑅ ─────

a/n: ahhh!! my first series on here!! i hope you’re excited ro read :))) this is my valentines gift to u all xoxo

let me know which fic ur most excited for! i’ll let you guys decide which order i post in :3

tysm for reading!!

- lux xoxo

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waitforyrlove · 6 months ago

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slytherin ! matt catches reader in his room after losing a bet.

PART TWO.

you curse yourself for agreeing to this ridiculous bet. It had seemed like harmless fun at the time, something to get your friends off your back about always playing it safe. But now, standing outside the threshold of the Slytherin common room, you question every decision that’s led you here.

the heavy stone wall slides shut behind you, leaving you in the dimly lit space that exudes an unsettling elegance. Green light filters through the lake’s murky waters outside the windows, casting long shadows across the plush sofas and polished floors. Every creak beneath your feet feels deafening in the eerie quiet.

your heart pounds. You’re not supposed to be here. And yet, the terms of the bet were clear: sneak into Matt’s space and return with proof. A book, a quill or anything to show you’d been there.

you’d lost the game, and now here you are.

the room smells faintly of aged leather and something crisp, like winter air. You tread carefully, trying to make out which door might lead to the boys’ dormitory. Somewhere above you, the faint sound of laughter echoes—probably from students lingering in the upper common room.

you’re halfway across the room when a voice freezes you in your tracks.

“Planning to redecorate, are we?”

you spin around so fast you nearly trip over your own feet. Matt leans against the far wall, his green-and-silver tie undone, his robes draped casually over one shoulder. His eyes glint with amusement, but his smirk is razor-sharp.

“What—what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he says, pushing off the wall and taking a lazy step toward you. His tone is light, but there’s an edge to it, like a cat toying with a mouse. “This doesn’t seem like your scene, sweetheart.”

you resist the urge to back away as he closes the distance between you, though your pulse is thrumming in your ears. “I was just—uh—looking for something.”

“Looking for something,” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t believe you for a second. “Let me guess: your houses tradition? Break into the Slytherin common room and hope you don’t get caught?”

you flinch. He’s far too close now, his presence making the space feel smaller. His dark green jumper clings to his broad shoulders, and you can’t help but notice the faint, woodsy scent that clings to him.

“No..” you say, a little too quickly. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it like?” he asks, crossing his arms. The amusement is still there, but his tone is sharper now, his gaze probing. “Careful how you answer, love. You’re already on thin ice.”

you hesitate, weighing your options. Lying to him feels impossible under his scrutiny. His eyes seem to see straight through you, as though he already knows why you’re here and is just waiting for you to admit it.

finally, you sigh. “Fine. It’s a bet, okay?” you admit, crossing your arms defensively. “I lost a bet, and now I’m here. Happy?”

his smirk widens, “I’m ecstatic. Go on, then. What’s the dare? Break into my dorm? Steal my favorite book? Something embarrassing, I hope.”

“Just… find something that proves I was here,” you mutter, your cheeks burning.

Matt’s laugh is low and warm, but there’s something dangerous about it. “You’ve got nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Can I go now?” you ask exasperated.

“Not so fast,” He steps even closer, until you can feel the heat radiating off him. “You think you can just waltz in here, invade my space, and leave without consequences?”

“What do you mean, consequences?”

he tilts his head, pretending to think. “I could report you, you know. Breaking into the Slytherin common room? That’s grounds for a nice, long chat with the fuckin’ professors.”

“Matt, come on—”

“Or,” he interrupts, a glint of mischief in his eyes, “we could make our own bet.”

“What kind of bet?”

“I’ll let you off the hook—no detention, no tattling to your head of house—but you owe me. I haven’t decided what yet, but when I do, you’ll agree. No arguments.”

you hesitate, weighing your options. The alternative—a full-blown scandal and possible expulsion—isn’t exactly appealing.

“Fine,” you say through gritted teeth. “Deal.”

“Gooood girl,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. He steps back, giving you just enough room to breathe, though his eyes never leave yours.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he adds, his smirk deepening. “If you’re ever stupid enough to pull a stunt like this again… don’t expect me to be so fucking forgiving just like I was.”

with that, he turns and saunters off toward the dormitory stairs, leaving you standing there, equal parts relieved and humiliated.

as you make your way back to your own common room, you can’t help but feel that somehow, you’ve just lost another bet.

this was nowhere close to ending.

taglist: @secretlocket @pearlzier @et6rnalsun @mattscoquette @carvedtits @sirenedeslily @mattslolita @flouvela @bella-loveschris @lovingregulusblack @sarosfilms @annsx03 @eliana-4200 @wakeupitschrizz @emely9274 @sturniolossss @sturnioloangell

˙ . ꒷ 🪽 notes from author˙— giggles, giggles..

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tyunphoria · 2 years ago

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🌪️not in my movie ! — b.chan

- - - - -

⚠️NSFW CONTENT!⚠️

- - - - -

ghostface!bang chan x reader

SYNPNOSIS: just a fun game of cat and mouse till you fall in the lion’s den.

INCLUDES: AFAB reader, college!au, pet names, praise, ANGST and SMUTTT. Finding out he’s ghostface gee what a shocker, not proof read, rushed:p chan’s hella manipulative if you squint.

WARNINGS: threatening, mentions of death and murders, blood, slight degradation, fear play, slight dacryphilia, DOM!chan, p in v, oral (giving), fingering, hair pulling, uh tw just to make sure: non con that turns consensual, semi public not rlly?, UNPROTECTED SEX, mentions of vomiting.

[click here to read ghostface!hanjisung x reader.]

w.c: 4.5k

The leaves were ablaze with autumn hue as y/n walked across the quad of her college campus. She breathed in the crisp autumn air, savouring the hint of bonfire smoke that indicated the fair was being set up. Y/n loved this time of the year. Students milled about between classes, backpacks slung over shoulders, coffee cups warming hands. Some douchebags would even take the liberty to scare their peers and professors while clad in a black robe and a ghostface mask.

Speaking of, your senior Chan just fell victim to one of the pranks and it was hilarious how you got to witness it first hand.

“I hate Halloween…” Chan grumbled as he fell into step beside you.

Your body buzzed with laughter as you handed him the book that slipped from his grasp. “Are you going to that fair tonight?” You ask. Chan makes an expression you couldn’t read, akin to contemplation tinged with mild distaste at the idea. You knew him well enough to read the thoughts flitting across his face — he was tempted by the promise of candy apples and haunted houses but also felt the pull of responsibility to study for his upcoming exam.

“Oh come on, Christopher.” You roll your eyes, “a few hours of fun won’t kill you.”

“Hard pass.” He said. He wasn’t one to back down to these types of things but he claimed that there was something about Halloween which gave him the ‘ick’. “And it’s not just that… Changbin lost a bet so now he’s gonna have to wear a playboy bunny costume to the fair. Think I wanna see that?” You laugh and shake your head, bidding him goodbye as you turn to enter your apartment until Chan stopped you once more by grabbing ahold of your arm.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice stern. “I’m being serious this time. Just… how about you just don’t go? It’s dangerous, especially how late it is at night. Who knows… maybe ghostface himself would show up uninvited.”

His warning sent goosebumps to rise on your skin, making the hair on your nape stand. You mask it with a light scoff. “Really, Chris? When are you gonna drop this ghostface shit. Dude’s been M.I.A for years, I think I’ll be fine.”

You try to pull away but his grip around your wrist tightens before you find yourself being pulled against his chest, hands holding your waist in place as he buries his face against your neck. “Be careful out there, yeah?”

Your hard gaze softens. “I will.”

- - - - -

“Y/n!” Felix beams as he captures you in a tight embrace.

“Jesus Christ, lix.” You gently pull away from the hug to examine his costume. “Elsa?”

“It’s cute, no?” He pouts. “Aya’s over there by the dart booth.” You nod at him gratefully, giving him one last hug before making your way to Aya.

“Hey bitch!” You grin. Aya bounces over to you, planting a kiss on your cheek, staining your skin with the bright red lipstick she wore.

“You wore the costume I bought you, let me see,” she twirls you around. “Hot, hot, okay, but babes that jacket has gotta go.”

“It’s cold!” You protest. “And my tits are practically out.”

Aya sighed in exasperation. “Halloween is the one year where a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.” She quotes.

The fair was packed with hordes of costumed attendees, mostly college students from nearby universities. Your eyes widened as she took in the revealing outfits on display - girls in lingerie masquerading as "sexy cat" costumes, shirtless guys with lampshades on their heads.

"Is that chick only wearing a bra and a fucking g-string?" You murmured to Aya, who stood beside you nibbling on candy corn from a paper bag.

Aya followed her gaze to a scantily clad brunette in the distance. "Looks like it," she snorted.

"Thank god there are no kids around here tonight."

You said, finding the lack of children odd. Usually by 8pm, the fair would be swarming with kids getting high off of cotton candy and running around wildly.

"Yeah, the government placed a curfew," Aya explained after popping a few gummy worms into her mouth. "Didn't you hear?"

"A curfew? No, why?" You felt unease curl in your stomach. The last curfew had been years ago, when a killer in a mask murdered a group of teens.

Aya lowered her voice. "It's all over the news. Two days ago someone broke into this girl's house downtown. And then a bunch of people were found dead behind the HYBE office building."

Your brows furrowed. There's no way it could be Ghostface again, right? That killer had been caught years ago.

Chris’s words from this morning suddenly plagued your mind and it bothered you.

A theory was circulating online that there was more than one Ghostface. That a group of obsessed fans had taken up the killer mantle. Those amateur reddit detectives were digging far deeper than the useless ass police.

What if Chan had been right? Unease bloomed in your chest as you glanced around the fair.

Aya takes notes of her expression, attempting to lighten the mood by shoving some cotton candy in your mouth.

“Stop worrying. Let’s go ride the roller coaster and eat candy till we fucking barf!”

- - - - -

“Oh, fuck me, I’m gonna—“ Aya bends over the railing and hurled.

Your cheeks tint in embarrassment, an awkward smile on your lips as you pat her back, trying to ignore the disgusted looks both of you were receiving.

“Bitch you gotta go on without me,” she slumps against a nearby bench, chugging down a can of beer to wash off the vile taste.

“What!” You frown, “but the haunted house, you promised!” You tugged on her arm but she doesn’t budge. “Tsk, fine, I’ll go without you then.”

They built a new attraction that the place has been working on for years but it just now opened up today. It was a big haunted mansion. You wondered why it took so long for them to open it up, but you found out not too long ago that they didn’t hire any scare actors for this attraction, they were all animatronics.

You see your friend by the entrance, collecting tickets and admitting people in.

"Hyunjin!" you exclaimed, a wide smile lighting up your face as you spotted your friend stationed at the entrance, diligently collecting tickets and admitting people in. "I didn’t know your ass worked here."

The blond returned your smile and motioned for three more people to enter before making his way over to you. "Yeah, I actually wanted to take today off, but they were in desperate need of extra staff. I was looking forward to spending the night with my girlfriend too." he replied with a small sigh. "Surprisingly, it's even more crowded than last year. You'd think people would stay home, given the murder incident that happened at HYBE."

You crossed your arms. You really didn’t wanna think about that right now. casting a quick glance down at your heels, momentarily distracted by the discomfort throbbing in your feet. "I shouldn't have worn these," you gesture to your heels.

Something crossed Hyunjin’s face as his expression went blank. “It’s gonna bitch to run in those if that fucker catches you.”

You gape at him. Who the fuck says something like that so casually?

“Sorry,” Hyunjin chuckled. “It’s part of my script.” Oh right… yeah, of course, it being halloween and him working at a horror attraction explains it.

“Oh, it’s your turn, y/n. You going in alone?” He asks. You glance behind you past the long line of teenagers to spot your friend Aya flirting with some guy. You grunt. “Yeah. Just me.”

Hyunjin smiles, taking your ticket and opening up the doors for you. “Enjoy.” He puts it simply, closing the doors behind you.

Hyunjin glances at the rest of the people in the line, the smile falling from his face as he makes his announcement which results in a chorus of groans.

“Okay everyone! Haunted mansion’s closed for tonight.”

- - - - -

As you ventured further into the haunted mansion, the path guided you through a dimly lit corridor. The flickering candles along the walls cast eerie shadows, whispering secrets in the air.

"for something that took years to make, this is pretty boring," you muttered, your disappointment evident in your voice. The first half of the experience was extremely underwhelming. The animatronics were, at least. But as you stepped into the next room, your boredom quickly turned to awe.

Inside, the place was straight out of a Gothic horror story. The Victorian aesthetic engulfed you, transporting as if you were entering dracula’s house or some shit.

As you continued, animatronic figures lurched and screeched, attempting to startle you with their mechanical movements and eerie sounds. But let's be real, they were more comical than terrifying. Their jerky motions and predictable jump scares only elicited laughter instead of fear..

You couldn't help but chuckle, finding amusement in their exaggerated gestures and obvious gimmicks. It became a game to anticipate their predictable moves, mocking their feeble attempts at fright.

The vibe itself was pretty spooky.

The thing that genuinely terrified you was the sudden ear-piercing scream cutting through the air.

Was that from outside? You couldn’t tell. There weren’t any windows. Maybe it just came from one of the speakers.

How long has it been, seven minutes maybe? Well, for one the place was huge and you took up most of the time taking pictures of the place and messing with the bots.

Startled by the crashing sound of the picture frame hitting the floor, you couldn't help but leap in surprise. As your racing heart gradually settled, you cautiously rounded the corner, only to find yourself confronted with a seemingly endless maze of hallways. The disorienting sight added to your growing sense of unease.

Just as you began to collect your thoughts, your hand-held phone abruptly buzzed, causing you to jump once more. The unexpected vibration sent a jolt through your system, making you exclaim, "Jesus—fuck!" A nervous chuckle escaped your lips as you pressed a trembling hand against your chest, trying to calm your pounding heart.

Assuming it was Aya, you braced yourself for a string of impatient requests to hurry up and drive her home. However, to your surprise, the incoming text displayed an unknown number. Curiosity mingled with a tinge of annoyance as you read the message that flashed on your screen: "

“Let’s play a game:)”

Your heart rate quickened in response, you weren't in the mood for pranks, you grumbled and decided to power off your phone, hoping to put an end to the unsettling message.

Your phone buzzed again.

With a mix of frustration and apprehension, you reluctantly picked up your phone and saw another message from the same unknown number: "Don't fucking ignore me, l/n." The words sent a shiver down your spine.

Reluctantly, you type back, your fingers trembling on the keyboard.

"Who are you?" you ask, your anxiety building with each passing moment.

The chat bubbles appear on the screen, filled with an unsettling anticipation. The silence hangs heavy, broken only by the rapid beating of your heart.

"Let's play," the mysterious person replies.

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you can't help but snap in response. "Look asshole, I don't have time for this," you retort, your patience wearing thin.

A pause follows, and then their next message appears, sending a chill down your spine. "I'm sure you do if your life depends on it," they jeer, their words laced with a sinister edge.

Confusion and fear intertwine within you, clouding your thoughts. Their cryptic statements leave you bewildered, struggling to grasp their true intentions.

Suddenly, a notification pops up, revealing an incoming image. With trembling hands, you open it, only to be met with a horrifying sight—Hyunjin covered in blood, and Aya who looked lifeless leaned up against a pole.

A scream escapes your lips as you drop your phone, shock coursing through your veins. Trembling, you gather the courage to pick up the device again, your mind racing with terror and desperation.

With a renewed sense of horror, you read the next message: "Don't worry, darling. They’re not dead yet. If you can be a good girl for me, I may just spare them."

Each word intensifies your panic, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.

“Don’t hurt them. I’ll do whatever you want.”

The tears streaming down your face are uncontrollable, having to hold the wall for support so your legs didn’t give up on you.

“Let’s play a game of hide and seek.” It writes. “I’m giving you two minutes to hide. If I find you by the time it strikes 12,” then they stopped typing. Seconds felt like hours as you waited. “Let’s just say they don’t get to see another day. As for you, things won’t get pretty so make sure to hide well:)”

It’s a little after 11:40, so you only have twenty minutes till the game is over. You assume that the timer for the duration you had to hide already started so you wasted no time to break into a sprint.

The game seemed simple enough. All you needed to do was hide for fifteen more minutes and you were golden! Besides, it’s a pretty big mansion. You’re confident that it’ll take them hours to find you.

- - - - -

Two more minutes.

There were only two minutes left.

You sink down against the wall, pulling your legs close to your chest. Thoughts of Chris flood your mind. You imagine how he might be doing, picturing the moment when all of this would be over and you could finally return home. The image of him standing before you, his dimpled smile breaking through, teasingly claiming that going to the fair wasn't such a great idea after all, tugs at the corners of your lips and brings a glimmer of warmth to your heart.

"I told you so!" he would tease, his voice filled with both amusement and genuine concern. But deep down, you know that Chan would be consumed with worry for your well-being and safety. You already imagine him scolding you, all while showering you with hugs and gifts to make you feel better. As his junior, his guidance and advice always carried weight, and you never missed an opportunity to listen to his words.

You find yourself sinking deeper into the memories, recalling how Chan had always been so understanding. Whenever the principal's wrath came crashing down, he was there, standing by your side, ready to defend you with unwavering loyalty. And when the storms of heartbreak or failed hook-ups battered your heart, Chris, was there to console you in ways that went beyond words. It was as if you were a treasured princess in his eyes, deserving of nothing but the utmost care and tenderness.

But right now wasn’t exactly the best time to dwell on your fat crush on him.

Like, yes, sure you guys fucked one or twice before but they meant nothing. It was just a way to relieve frustrations with zero strings attached.

His warmth, his voice… his hands that touch you in all the right places.

You’re definitely gonna miss it if you die in this hell hole.

“What's on your pretty little mind that’s got you thinking so deeply, princess?”

You gasp and quickly shoot up to a sprint until your front is pushed up against a wall, feeling someone’s weight pressed against you along with a cold blade poking against your throat.

“I found youuuu,” he taunts.

The man wearing a ghostface mask chuckled as he pressed the knife more into your neck, enough to make a small cut. You wince and groan in pain. The situation is almost laughable, finding it somewhat cliché with the way you’re about to die.

“Fucking… let me go,”

“But princess, I won didn’t I? We had a deal.”

“Fine! You win! Just kill me already then, why drag longer?”

You squirm around to possibly irk him more to speed up the process but as you do, the further your backside gets pushed into his hard on making him groan into your left ear. “But what’s the fun in killing you right away. I’m here to claim my prize.”

Your eyes widen, realizing what his intentions were now.

An idea popped in your head. If you just played along for a few more, you can distract him and make a beeline for the exit.

A laugh slips past your lips. “What’s this? I didn’t expect mister ghostface to be such a perv.” You rub your ass against the tent of his sweats eliciting a strained grunt from the man behind you.

He drops the knife, closing your throat with his fist, bringing your head back. “Don’t fucking tempt me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation of his gloved hand cupping your sensitive pussy. Slick begins to stain your lacy red panties as he hummed and dragged his middle finger along your slit. You gasp out in surprise, “don’t do that…”

“Oh? But you were rubbing against me not too long ago like a little slut, what happened to that confidence?” He reaches down further and gently parts the lips of your vulva before gently circling your entrance.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Your eyes flutter open at his words. You both have already gone this far, why stop now? If you told him to stop, would it just prompt him to kill you? You wanted to atleast see Chris before you died… Well, he asked for permission at least so that was good… fuck it, what about this situation was considered good in the first place? Played with your feelings using fear and dread and now he has you pressed up against the wall with his hand down your underwear.

It was a bit of a turn on.

“Why don’t you kiss my ass and fuck me already.”

You couldn’t see his face but you knew from the tone of his voice that he was grinning, “Good choice.” You were wet and waiting, so he slips a finger inside, thumb circling your clit. You moan, back arching. He adds another finger and pumps his fingers, adjusting the pace while you fall apart in his arms. Your sighs and moans, the way your body responds to him. He hooks his fingers as he circles your clit, rewarded with a moan that sounds suspiciously like calling on the gods.

You tighten around his fingers as you cum, your cheeks flushed in mild embarrassment, with your lipstick smudged from his fingers stuffing your throat full. He strokes you through your orgasm, a beautiful sight to see you undone like this, having to fight the urge to rio off his mask and kiss you.

“Did that feel good, princess?”

“Don’t… call me that.”

“What’s wrong? Do you like being called derogatory names instead?”

Your cheeks flushed. “No! I just… only he can call me princess…”

Ghostface went quiet as he stilled momentarily. He takes his fingers out. “Is that so..” his laughter fills your ears and you can’t help but shy away by hiding your face. Your body was jerked around, forcing you to face him as he squished your cheeks together roughly.

“Open your eyes.”

You shake your head. He moved his hand from your cheeks to your hair making you moan out in surprise.

“Your mask scares me!” You cried out. Staring back at the two blank eyes of the costume while getting fucked isn’t exactly ideal.

“Then I’ll take it off.”

He’s bluffing. Cause there’s no way in hell — this dude’s gotta be bluffing. “You’d do that?”

“For you I would.”

‘Yeah. If you could just take off your mask so I could report you to the police when I’m outta here that’d be great.’

But you’d wish you told him to keep his mask on instead. You would’ve rather preferred that.

“Chris?”

He cradled your face in his hand. “Why do you look so sad, princess? Not what you were expecting?” All you could do was cry. You were confused. You felt betrayed. You wanted nothing more than to shove him away but also melt against the warmth of his touch, the gentle caress of his hands that once brought you comfort. “Shh… shh, don’t cry.” Chan leans in and kisses away your tears.

“Why?” You hiccuped.

“I didn’t want you finding out. I never meant for this to happen.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Hell, y/n, I didn’t want you getting roped into this mess but you drive me fucking insane.

I won’t kill you, I just wanted to be honest with you. I’m sorry if you had to find out this way—“

You swallow his next words with a kiss. You didn’t want to listen to his words anymore. You didn’t care if it’s an excuse, you didn’t care if it was a lie, you didn’t care about anything as long as it was him.

“Save it. Whatever lame ass excuse you’re about to come up with, I forgive you.” This catches him off guard. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off again, “I’m tired and my pussy’s throbbing so let’s hurry and wrap this up.”

He grinned, urging to your knees. He gave your cheek a rough couple pats as he brought his index and middle finger to your lips, “open.” You part your lips and with little to no warning, he shoves his fingers down your throat. With his other hand, he pulled his sweats and briefs halfway down his toned thighs. He rubbed your spit around the length of his dick, giving it a few strokes before tracing the tip against your lips.

You poke your tongue out just to get a little taste of him making Chris visibly shudder. He groans before pushing the tip past your lips. You wrapped your lips around his cock and his hand immediately found its way on the back of your head. “Yeah… fuck, just like that…” you wrapped both of your hands around his length and worked quick pumps around the head while the other worked its way along the base.

He felt his knees buckle a little when you started sucking his balls. “You look so pretty like this,” he urged himself back into your mouth. “And who do you belong to?”

“You.” You moan. “I’m all yours, Channie.”

That was all the confirmation he needed before he began to brutally fuck your little throat. Your dress had ridden up gave it the liberty to press the tip of his shoe against your cunt making your hips jerk forward. As he ruthlessly fucked your throat and the laces of his converse rubbed deliciously against uour clit the stimulation was beyond amazing. After holding your head firmly against his pelvic area for what seemed like eternity, he finally let you get some air, removing yourself from his dick with a sloppy pop.

“Come here, pretty princess. Wanna cum inside of you…” he was quick to pull you to your feet and pushed you back up against the wall. Your answering smile is a smug thing, as if you’re proud of the effect you had on him. He kisses you then, groaning as he tastes himself on your tongue. Chan gripped your plush thighs and lifted you up with ease. He was gentle and slow, despite the circumstances you were thrown into. He rips your panties in half trying to get them off, drowning out your protests with a slight chuckle. “I’ll buy you new one’s.” He shoves your panties in his pocket before swiping his tip against your wet folds. “Oh,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut as he begins to move. The rhythm is slow at first, your fingers pulling him closer, as if you could eliminate all space between the both of you. Your hips meet his every thrust as they move together at a languid pace, as if they have all the time in the world.

He can feel the way your heart races, the rush of blood in your veins. He tries to be as gentle as possible as he sinks his teeth into your neck, drawing a delicious gasp from your lips as he thrusts into you, hoping to balance out the sensation of pain and pleasure. His face hovers over yours, breaths mingling. “Can you hear how wet you are?” He grunts, adding his thumb to the mix by rubbing your almost painfully sensitive clit. You moan loudly, back arching against the wall when you felt chan begin to suck at your tits over the thin material of your dress.

“Been wanting to fuck you for so long… seeing you walk around all night looking dolled up, I felt so jealous.”

He pounds mercilessly into your poor pussy, salty tears beginning to run down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure. “You're so gorgeous… wanna make you all mine — fuck,” he moans. “You’re so naughty… I told you not to go, didn’t I?”

“Channniiieee…. I’m gonna,” you whimper, whining against his lips. “I’m cumming… oh fuck, I’m cumming…”

“so cute…” he cooed. “You disobeyed me, and look at where we’re at now.”

You tangle your fingers in his hair as you orgasm followed by a shudder.

What sounded like footsteps that were approaching closer and closer catches you off guard and it seemed to have a similar effect on him as well.

Sticking to your plan from earlier, you shove him off of you while he’s distracted trying to figure out who could be approaching and make a beeline for the exit. His back hits a table, eyes widening.

“Love you Channie!” You grinned and before he could grab you, you shut the two heavy metal doors in front of him.

He grumbled, pulling his pants back on and opening the door only to be met with a ghostface mask staring right back at him.

“Hey,” Jisung says as he rips the mask off him.

“The van’s parked outside, the other’s have been waiting for twenty fucking minutes.” He says but he only received a glare from his leader. “You look pissed. What the hell happened this time?”

“Change of plans,” Chan says as he picks up his knife and mask from the floor. “You guys go on ahead without me.”

“What?” Jisung scoffed. “You can’t just do that at the last minute. Look, we’ve been planning this shit for years, you can’t just back down ‘cause you can’t control your dick. The police are already on their way, and—!” Chan throws his knife, missing Han by a hair as it pierces through the portrait behind him. Han felt his breathing stop for a quick second.

“You had your fair share of fucking with your slut, so pipe down.”

Jisung glowered, hand tightening around the handle of his gun. “Don’t fucking call her that.” He says, but he knew better than to get into an argument with his boss.

“I’ll meet you guys tomorrow.” Chan slips his mask back on.

“I’m gonna go claim back what’s mine.”

a.n: ruh roh, alpha wolf chan is mad cs he didnt get to orgasm😕😕

and yall i get it, you want more skz ghostface content, im getting there okay😭

also pls lmk if you want me to make anime fics too, all ive been posting about are skz dhisbsje i can write genshin too. P.s all ghostface aus r connected, hyunjin is next methinks

#reader insert #stray kids #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #x reader #stray kids smut #kpop smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #ghostface au

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pandapool · 18 days ago

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No Powers AU | Art Thief Wade/Investigator Logan (different first meeting) 🔻 Part I

🔺 Part II 🔺 Part III 🔺 Part IV 🔺 Part V 🔺 Part VI - End 🔺

Wade is bored as fuck at his car dealer job, but also doesn’t really want to go back to merc work. he even started to occasionally go to the museum with Peter during their lunch break or after work.

until one day, Peter looks at one of the paintings and jokes, ‘man, I wish that were hanging in my house. Imagine that,’ he chuckles and moves on to the next painting. Wade stays rooted to the spot, tilting his head in contemplation and staring at the painting as he quietly says, ‘yeah, imagine that.’

---

Logan has been a Private Investigator for over a decade. it's not quite as fulfilling as Scott's teacher job seems to be, but at least the work keeps him from completely drowning himself in alcohol plus, it gets him out of the house.

he gets consulted by the police and gets involved with a new job; an art thief and a good one.

they leave no trace, sneak past every security system and take everything from paintings to ancient relicts to jewellery. it’s always museums or private collectors and after 3 months the police still hasn’t even a starting point.

cue a game of cat and mouse with Logan tracking down Wade and Wade continuing to escape at the last moment. sometimes lingering on purpose, only to evade Logan's grasp.

and as annoying and pride-hurting it is, deep down Logan has to admit it's kinda... fun. even when he takes on other cases, he never stops his endeavour to find Wade.

it's also undeniable that they start to get to know each other. in some sort of twisted, unconventional way, they learn all those little facts about the other. during those late, lonely hours with only Jack Daniels to keep him company Logan can admit that there'd be missing something in his life without keeping out an eye for new thefts or artefacts mysteriously disappearing.

so he almost feels a pang of melancholy when he has Wade cornered at last.

'just tell me... how?' he asks, looking at Wade. trying to commit everything about his face to memory. 'how did you manage to steal all those things with absolutely zero trace?'

Wade chuckles, a small smile playing around his lips as he shakes his head.

'c'mon, bub. backup will be here in less than 3 minutes. i caught you, don't you think i deserve to know?'

a beat of silence, then. 'i never stole anything.'

Logan scoffs. 'cut the crap.'

'no, really,' Wade insists. he clears his throat. 'well, let's just say, all those people who had stuff gone missing? they definitely had an interest in it doing so.' then he adds thoughtfully, 'the only thing i truly stole is this painting that now hangs in my friend's bedroom. but good luck tracing that back to me.'

Logan faltered, just for a moment. was Wade actually telling the truth? in some cases there really had been some information that didn't quite add up, but the proof that the respective items had been stolen had been stronger.

'i'll see you around,' Wade says wiggling his fingers in a wave. there's a loud boom and Logan instinctively ducks and turns around, but there's nothing but a small trail of smoke slowly curling up into the sky.

Logan turns back around, but of fucking course, Wade is gone, despite Logan only having looked away for a moment.

---

three months later, Logan is in Canada for another case. Storm, his partner assigned to him for this case, had forced him to take a day off while they were waiting for some requested information to come through and spend the day skiing.

Logan is waiting for Storm to come back from the bathroom when a snowboarder sidles up to him.

'nice view, huh,' they say.

Logan glances over and hums noncommittally. the person is wearing black ski trousers over a deep red wool jumper. then they fully turn to him.

'told ya i'd be seeing you around, peanut.' Wade winks at Logan, before popping down his ski googles and starts down the hill, getting lost in the crowd.

'who was that?' Storm asks when she joins Logan not 30 seconds later.

'an old friend,' Logan says, still looking in the direction where Wade vanished.

🔺 Part II 🔺 Part III 🔺 Part IV 🔺 Part V 🔺 Part VI - End 🔺

now also on AO3

#poolverine #wolverine #deadpool #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadclaws #poolverine ficlet #art thief/PI #pandapool

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sthilarions · 3 months ago

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me, exhausted and out of ideas, pushing the content creation button in my brain: Edwin is a. is a fuckin. grasshopper mouse

Or, well, his daemon is.

Some fun facts about grasshopper mice:

1) They look like normal very cute tiny mice. They are about 3.5-5 inches long and weigh “between eight and twenty pennies”.

2) They have been co-evolving with a particular species of scorpion, one that can kill humans easily, and as a result have a wide array of genetic mutations that make them incredibly resistant to not only that scorpion’s venom but pain in general; there have been some attempts at research into using grasshopper mice’s adaptations as analgesics for humans.

3) Grasshopper mice are obligate carnivores that specialize in eating highly venomous arthropods, including scorpions, a “prehistoric-looking” arachnid, and an extremely venomous centipede, and hunt various other animals as well, up to and including birds and decent-sized snakes; their kill tactics are… rather gruesome.

4) They have a variety of adaptations for carnivory, including stronger skulls to deliver high bite force, long claws to hold struggling prey, and stomachs that are able to withstand the lacerating force of partially-chewed scorpion exoskeletons.

5) They howl at the moon like wolves (and also bark like dogs).

When Edwin’s daemon settled as a mouse, his parents were furious. They demanded he hide Mys, carrying him in a small box from his belt, because at least then he could carry the benefit of the doubt that maybe Mys was something small but more dignified - a scorpion, perhaps, or a small snake. Stigmatized, but not weak.

(Edwin was perfectly happy to do so, as it made it easier to hide that Mys was male.)

(Another fun bonus fact: in Greek, “mys” means both “mouse” and “muscle”.)

Edwin did his own research, and determined that Mys was not a normal house mouse, but very little was known of grasshopper mice, in the 1910s.

In Hell, Mys was able to ride on Edwin’s shoulder, as he ran. And they learned, over time, that Mys could siphon off some of Edwin’s pain, and over even more time they learned how to stop the pain before Edwin even felt it too much. Well - that’s a bit of a misstatement. Hell finds its way around anything you do to evade it, escalating as necessary, experimenting with new tortures. Any relief is only temporary, lasts only until someone notices you’re not screaming hard enough. But, still - in Hell, even momentary relief matters, helps you stay semi-sane, helps you keep hope and drive, and, eventually, Edwin escaped.

He showed Mys to Charles, when they met, as proof that he was harmless, that he wouldn’t hurt Charles. Charles cooed at Mys in a way highly undignified for a 16 year old boy.

By the 90s, there was information out there, about grasshopper mice, when Edwin went looking for it again.

Mys comes in pretty handy, actually, once they know what he is, because it’s amazing how many witches and sorcerers and warlocks and so forth have pet scorpions or snakes or centipedes or spiders, that pose a danger even to ghosts - but not to Mys. Mys darts in and takes their stings and bites without flinching (and, sometimes, when needed, stabs his sharp teeth through their exoskeletons until they’re paralyzed and then finishes them off).

This only makes one big difference, though, in the end.

When they see Esther’s snake, Charles raises his eyebrows. “I think that one might be a bit big, even for you, Mys.” Edwin tilts his head. “There is something we have been practicing. I’d rather not, if we can avoid it, however.”

But after Hell and before Esther would have blown up Jenny’s shop, a crow comes to them to talk to Mys, and Edwin realizes they can’t avoid it.

They march off to Esther’s house, all of them, even Crystal and Niko, as desperately as Edwin tries to get the living humans to stay behind. And when they get there, Edwin kneels by the cupboard, Mys on his hand. “All the energy you gave to me, I return to you. The strength of our soul, Hell-tempered, scorpion-killer, pain-eater, in your form.” His hand falls to the floor as Mys begins to get bigger, and then the rest of him falls, too, limp, as Mys dives through the cupboard door just in time, barely able to still fit through and still growing.

Charles kneels frantically over Edwin, Edwin’s ghostly body limp and unconscious and flickering, as Mys’s howl shakes the house.

And a few days later, Edwin lies in Niko’s bed, despite his protests that ghosts don’t need beds, still a bit too shaky to walk around but he hasn’t flickered since yesterday, and Niko asks if they would like a pink ribbon for Mys’s tail. “Mys is - Mys is male, actually,” Edwin says, and Niko smiles and dives back into her ribbon collection.

“Ooh, I know! How about this green, like your sweater that you wore for Charles?”

And, they all have to agree - including Charles, when he arrives a few minutes later - that the ribbon does suit Mys quite nicely. And Mys preens, and fluffs the bow a bit with his long sharp claws.

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #mine #for context in case you’re not aware having a same-gender daemon in the HDM mythos is associated with homosexuality #also: did you happen to notice that the point of timeline deviation that led to Niko not dying #wasn’t actually Mys’s power #it was Monty warning Mys #yeah the bus-size daemon howling like Fenrir is cool #but it was his ability to connect that actually saved Niko

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shysuccubusstuff · 1 year ago

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cozy afternoon! zayne

Content: NSFW content, masturbation (solo), no actual intercourse.

Plot: So, there's this line in which the game states that the MC forgot her clothes within the bathroom... what if she forgot something else?...

Note: Non-proof reader, sorry for not posting for a while. Hope you all like it :).

Number of words: 1,8K.

It was quite sudden, to be honest.

Just as you had finished your shower, there was a sudden knock on your door. When you looked through the small peephole, you were able to see Zayne there, waiting at your front door, his hair drenched by the sudden storm that started while he went out with some of his work mates after being pestered by almost each single female that worked there (as well as most males that actually saw him as some kind of idol) during around three whole weeks.

It took you a few seconds realize that Zayne was indeed there, at your door, his face was a bit flushed, and he was still wearing his formal attire which he used while he was at work. Luckily, he had been able to finish most of the paperwork he had, so he could allow himself to get some rest (not like he was taking advantage of the sudden storm, of course not). Your eyes were nailed to his pretty face, although something else quickly gained your attention, his clothes were completely drenched, making his shirt a bit translucent, just enough for you to be able to see his chest and fit body. He must have noticed it, as he suddenly got a bit flushed, his hands trying to hide his body just a bit. Finally, you were able to answer him, "Oh yeah! Of course, just enter the bathroom, you should have a shower, I'll try to search for something that may fit you." Just as you were about to run towards your room, Zayne spoke, "Are you sure you haven't left anything inside the bathroom?" You quickly denied it, rushing to your bedroom without allowing him to say whatever he was about to say.

After a few minutes, you were finally able to calm down, you took the clothes that could perhaps fit him (they were Xavier’s clothes, left by him in case he wanted to take a comfy nap in your own apartment), after clearing one of the main issues, you decided to start to prepare dinner, as it was already past eleven o’clock. While you were already cutting up the ingredients, a realization came to you. Your clothes! You had left your clothes (including your underwear) inside the bathroom, of course Zayne would have seen it by now! Despite that, you once again rushed, this time to the bathroom, you tried to be as quiet as a mouse, opening the door slowly, perhaps Zayne was still in the bathroom, sadly, this was not the case, as when you opened the door you found quite a sight.

Zayne, Zayne with his hair drenched, little droplets of water running down his body, his hand was wrapped around his shaft, your pretty underwear was also wrapped around it, his hand moving it up and down his length, as he tried to cover his soft moans by biting his lips. Just as you were about to leave the bathroom, he quickly turned around, his face completely flushed as he attempted to cover himself (unable to do so despite how hard he tried), you tried to explain yourself, “Oh, I just—remembered I had left my…clothes here, but it seems I was mistaken, I will search for them around my house, leave when you feel like it!” Of course that was a failed attempt to flee, as he quickly took you by your wrist. The towel was hiding his raging erection, but he still tried to remain as calmed as he was able to: “I’m…I’m sorry, I don’t know what took over me, you must be quite disgusted, I would completely understand if you wanted me to leave right now.” Well, how could you put it? Disgusted? Far from it, you were actually kinda (maybe way too) horny, I mean, seeing the man you loved losing it just because of your clothes? …Let’s be honest you were about to lose your mind, who could imagine someone as serious and “correct” as Zayne would lose his temper just from seeing the underwear of the person he loved. Just as he tried to make way for him to leave the bathroom, you got on his way, stopping him midway. “I don’t find you disgusting nor I want you to leave, Zayne, you-you are nothing if not precious to me.” Zayne’s hands tightened against the towel that was tied around his waist, almost as if trying to hold back. “I…I really don’t want you to feel somewhat pressured by this…this event” His face was much more flushed than before, perhaps it was just because of the embarrassment of being extremely close to you (of course not because of the little distance between his naked body and you).

You didn’t allow him to think it for longer, as you quickly pressed your lips against his. It was just a poor attempt of a real kiss, but it worked just as a spark, quickly making the doubtfulness of Zayne be blown away, his hands moved to your waist, caressing it as if it was the finest piece of art. His lips corresponded yours, swiftly taking charge of the kiss while his hands kept going up and down your back, sending small shivers down your spine. Who could image how experienced Zayne seemed at that moment?

Before you were able to respond, he had already taken both of you out of the small bathroom, having you on top of his lap as he made you a mess just through his tender hands and slightly cold lips, almost feeling as if you were about to melt on his hands. Despite Zayne had remained silent for a few minutes, it seemed that having you there all for himself gave him just enough confidence for him to actually state his feelings: “I have been trying so hard to simply ignore it, even to the point of wishing we had never met, but I have realized it is impossible, my soul is far too attached to you to even think about not meeting in our next lives. I no longer try to hide or avoid my own feelings, as I am well aware of them, I just… I don’t want to have you carry my own burden.” His eyes seemed to glisten with a mixture of nostalgia, desire and pure love. Regardless of that, you knew that he would refuse to develop that complex gaze, he did indeed avoid it, as his lips were once again kissing yours, the sudden warmth making your head spin a bit.

His little game kept going for a few minutes, sometimes allowing himself to play with your covered nipples over the little t-shirt you were wearing, making Zayne lose a bit more of his control every time your lips parted letting those soft pants and moans leave your mouth, or when you are slowly grinded against him, his hips rising just for him get a bit more friction, just a bit more.

The situation got even worse when you suddenly pulled away, leaving Zayne all high on the feeling, his cold hands tightly gripping your waist, not allowing you to move even an inch away from him, almost as if he was afraid of you disappearing from his grasp. His once cold hands were quite warm, perhaps as a result of the mixture between the alcohol in his veins and the extremely… sticky situation. He got you closer to him, keeping his hands just where they had been, “Why are you trying to run away from me?... Don’t you love me?” The cold exterior of Zayne was suddenly melting, his expression turning even softer against you, his head resting against your shoulder, as he whispered those soft words, a slightly possessive undertone kept lingering around his words, almost as if he was trying to enchant you with his velvety voice whispering sweet nothings against you. Zayne hands kept going up your back, starting to play with the fastener. When did he learn to be so…cute?

Despite his tactics, you tried to recover the composure, yes, you both may have kissed (perhaps even more kissing…), but you shouldn’t cross that kind of line, not when Zayne was barely able to keep his eyes open, Sadly, Zayne didn’t even flinch, regardless of how many times you tried to make him understand that you did in fact like him, but you preferred doing this type of stuff when he was completely there, not just half of his conscience. Making a small fuss, Zayne kept playing with your soft chest, finally getting rid of your bra and starting to play with your pretty nipples, pinching them every time you tried to re-explain why doing that kind of thing right now could be a bad idea, and how he should wait for some other day. He put one of his hands over your mouth, getting on top of you and lowering his face just enough for his lips to caress one of your nipples, starting to play with it, sucking on it as he smiled wickedly, his other hand playing with your other nipple, making you let out soft moans despite you knew how you should try to stop him before he could regret it the following morning. He stopped for a second, speaking way too close to your chest and letting his warm breath against your skin. “Would you let me pleasure you…? Just a little, I promise.” He looked just like a lost puppy; how could you refuse him? So of course, you (once again) gave in, allowing him to get rid of your soft pyjama pants together with your underwear. He moved away from you, lowering so he could align his mouth with your sweet cunt, allowing his tongue to enter you slowly, sucking on your clit while one of his hands started to play with your entrance, other times caressing your clit until it was all sensitive, making you cry out every time he decided to act mean, sucking on it while his finger entered you, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks due to the overstimulation.

He prologued this sweet torture until you became just a crying mess, babbling incoherent words as you tried to get him to move away, just enough for you to feel less lightheaded. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter how much you tried to move him, his sturdy arms were keeping you at your place, not allowing you to move even an inch without him pressing down on you, making you feel breathless as his body towered over your frame. “Please…my mind is hazy…” Your words seemed to fall into deaf ears, as his tongue and fingers kept torturing your sweet cunt, making you cum over and over his mouth, swallowing your alluring fluids, only stopping when you were on the verge of passing out. His warm hands took your limp body, switching positions and letting you rest on his chest. He took the soft blanket that was placed on the other duvet, covering both of you and interlocking his arms around his beloved one.

#love and deep space #lads zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x you #love and deepspace zayne #zayne x reader #fanfiction #smut #x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace imagines

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piratefishmama · 2 years ago

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Fake it Till you Make it | Part 16

Watching Eddie scope out his surroundings was… a sight to behold. He didn’t just walk from room to room like any normal person would, no, much like an adventurer, cautiously taking in their surroundings in a new place, in a new dungeon, stretching his neck to look around corners before stepping fully around them, gently touching walls to balance himself as he stretched.

Walking with his heel off the floor, quiet as a church mouse, going from room to room, appraising each one with varying sounds of approval while Steve watched in fond amusement.

It didn’t escape him, how lucky he was. How lucky he’d gotten, how rare it was for people like him, for people like Eddie, to feel comfortable enough to just be in a place that his parents also occupied. That running into his father on the second floor, midway through twirling Eddie from the master bedroom on one side of the hallway to the other where another door awaited his eager exploration, wouldn’t result in some kind of fight, that neither he, nor Eddie, had to hide who they were and what they were doing.

It didn’t escape him that he was lucky. Not just in the freedom he had either, but that he got to see Eddie comfortable. Got to see him light up like Christmas had come early, got to witness the exact moment downstairs when he’d relaxed in Steve’s space.

When he’d taken in all that stood before him and found comfort in it. Steve knew he was lucky that he got to see that. So he wasn’t about to take it for granted.

He wasn’t going to squander the opportunity to make the most of it. Of Eddie’s childish glee. Even if it was all based on a ruse. It was a mutual ruse. A ruse they were both aware of. There was no unfortunate reveal waiting at the end of the tunnel, no high school drama where some asshole pulled the wool from someone’s eyes to reveal none of it was real!!

He was going to make it as real as physically possible, and hopefully… just… continue. After the holiday. Maybe a conversation could happen to clear up any possible misunderstandings but… Steve wanted. He wanted the ultimate nerd currently scoping out the bedroom closest to the home theatre.

“We don’t want this one” Steve advised, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as Eddie poked the mattress with a single finger, as if that would accurately test the quality of the mattress, as he’d been doing for each room. “The home theatre doesn’t have proper sound proofing, if someone wants to watch a film later, we’ll be able to hear it through the walls.” It’d been a solid DIY job on his grandfathers part.

No professional involved, just ‘yeah I can do that, stand back Mags, let a man work’ and that was that. He'd even put it on the second floor, absolute madman.

Steve always pictured his grandmother just standing there, in the same pose he was currently standing in, watching with fond exasperation as her husband went to work on a project he was deeply inexperienced in, and completely unqualified to tackle.

The fact that it looked good in there was a miracle.

“Okay so, not this room, not the bunk bed room, and not the hot tub room, that leeeaves—”

“Master bedroom, or either of the two on the right side of the house.” The options were actually limited when other people were staying, if it were just him and Eddie they could have any room they wanted, but with his parents there it cut down the options.

“Tch, why’d you have me explore all of em then! We should probably just take the master bedroom, right? Since it’s apparently your house, oh great and powerful Master” Steve raised a brow as Eddie dipped into a low bow, theatrical as ever, his tone teasing, his hair bouncing around his face as he righted himself again. Cute.

“Hmm, you looked like you were having fun, you’re cute when you’re having fun.” And his cheeks coloured so nicely whenever he was complimented, hid behind his hair in a way that made Steve’s heart do a funny little flip flop, he’d file that information away for later, continuing on as if he hadn’t just dropped a flirty bomb on the other man “but you’re right, we should probably just take that one, it does have its own private deck…” oh the things they could do on that private deck. If it were all real. “Usually I let my parents have it buuut…” he had company this time. He’d have more than enough of an excuse to get the private deck, even if he wasn’t going to use it for anything other than relaxing. He had a reason to want a little privacy. “I’m sure they’ll understand us wanting it more.”

Eddie rolled with it, quickly recovering with the out Steve had created for himself, or maybe the guy was just so smooth he didn’t even realise he was flirting. That was definitely it. “Or they’ll think they understand us wanting it more” Eddie winked all conspiratorially, which only served to make Steve laugh leaving Eddie looking upon what he’d done in pride. He made Steve laugh. He did that. He’d done that a few times and honestly the high kept staying pretty fucking high.

How had he been so wrong about Steve for so goddamn long? How long had Steve been this glorious thing, like sunshine in human form?

“Exactly” Steve chuckled before pushing himself away from the doorframe “let’s go get our bags then, our shit wont unpack itself.”

“Actually could you get them? I… I should probably call Wayne, let him know I’m safe. It’s not too late there so he should still be home, is that okay? I don’t wanna leave it too late and have to go through reception at the plant, it’s… not great.” Nine times out of ten he wound up speaking to one of the three other Wayne’s working there.

“Yeah, there’s a private line in the room, you go ahead, I’ll grab the bags.”

“My Herculean hero” it wasn’t even remotely fair how badly Steve wanted to kiss him for how little he did to earn it.

“Yer very quiet, Ed, considerin you called me.” He’d gotten through to Wayne after three rings, reassuring him about his safety had been the first thing on the agenda as he got comfortable on the frankly unnecessarily large king sized bed, but then Steve returned to the room with their bags.

All of their bags. In one go, and Eddie’s brain kind of short circuited. “Huh?”

“Yer quiet, somethin the matter?”

“Steve is carrying everything all at once.” It earned a scoff from the man on the phone, and an amused smile from Steve. “It’s awfully distracting, I dunno what to tell you, Wayne I am very distracted.” Steve’s smile only widened

“Uh huh, well, I’ll let you get on then, gotta head out soon anyway, money ain’t gonna make itself. You sure everythin’s alright though? No red flags?”

“Nah… all green flags here, they’re… they’re nice, y’know?” He hadn’t expected it, so many stories of rich people being awful, but… they were just two extremely hard working people who’d had their hard work pay off. Even on holiday they were still working, it was both exhausting to watch, and deeply admirable. Eddie could never. “I’ll call you again tomorrow to check in.”

“I’ll be waitin. Be safe, son.”

“Say hi to Garfield for me” there was a short laugh on the other end, before the line cut off, leaving Eddie smiling as he put the phone down

“Who’s Garfield?” Steve asked, “other than the fat cat.”

“He’s the fat cat shaped mug I can no longer drink from after the great mug smashing of ’86. That stupid earthquake killed him, but we had superglue, so it was fine, just can’t drink out of him anymore cause he’s fragile.” No amount of superglue could fix the tiny areas they hadn’t been able to fill in with pieces, slivers of pot lost to the dark underside of the cabinets. “Need any help?”

“Nah, you just sit there an look pretty for me.” It had the desired effect, Eddie’s eyes widening, a pretty blush blossoming on his cheeks and the final kicker, he hid behind his hair. Adorable. Perfect. Beautiful. Had they actually been dating he’d have pressed pause on the unpacking, instead, he snipped that last thread holding Eddie’s composure in place with a smoothly delivered “just like that, yeah, God, you’re such a good boy.”

The consequences were immediate.

Part 18

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #oh what consequences shall befall our stupidly handsome hero?

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milliesfishes · 4 days ago

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hiiiiii millie mouse!!!!! 💗💗💗 just wondering if you’d ever consider doing a pt 2 of the greater good where reader is reunited with kat or like “rebuilding” her relationship with both her and billy?? i’m interested in your thoughts

౨ৎ꣑ৎThe Greater Good (Part Two)౨ৎ꣑ৎ

fem reader x billy the kid thank you my darling @phantomamour for proofing!! <3 catch up on part one here

Billy woke with a start at the feeling of you moving around. It was still dark outside, and the world was asleep save for him. He thought you were too, but when he lit the candle you were writhing under the covers, eyes still shut.

“Baby…sweetheart…” he reached for you, shaking your shoulder ever so slightly. “Hey…come back to me. ’S okay. C’mon-”

Your eyes flew open and you sat up with a start, chest heaving as you tried to regain your breath. He lifted himself right up with you, reaching for you tentatively. Last time you had bad dreams he’d tried to touch you and your body had flinched so hard it’d imprinted on his mind. Luckily this time you only let out a little whimper, burrowing into his chest.

“Shh,” he hushed, stroking your back up and down. “I’ve got you. I’m here, honey. ‘S just a dream. You’re safe.”

“T-the dark…the cold,” you stammered, shivering violently. “T-they’re coming for me-”

“Nobody’s comin’,” he promised, dropping his lips to your head and pulling you between his legs. “We’re safe, baby. Both of us.”

“K-Kat.”

“She’s safe too.” Billy smoothed your hair, starting to lean back and forth. “I promise. I ain’t lettin’ anything happen ever again.”

“S-safe,” you choked, your breathing growing steady. “Billy…I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” he breathed, kissing your head. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. I only care that you’re alive.”

Your breathing was shaky, and he breathed in and out through his nose. “Darlin’ just breathe for me. In ‘n out. Shh…” Billy couldn’t whisper enough that you were safe, and he’d never tire of it. You sniffled, and he gathered the courage to lay back down with you on his chest. Listening to his heart always seemed to help, and he slept shirtless so you could hear it better. “Shh, shh. I know, I know. But you’re safe, sweet girl. I’ve got you. You’re alright.” He was relieved when you began to relax.

“Billy?” you mumbled, tears still lacing the edges of your words.

“Hm?” He thumbed a tear or two away.

“Could…could you…the song…?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, still rocking back and forth. “‘F course, angel.” Billy recalled the tune you wanted, humming softly and letting the deep timbre of his voice lull you into relaxation. This night was easier than he’d expected it to be. Maybe it was a sign things were getting better. Good, he thought. You deserved to make it out of the woods you’d been trapped in for so long.

He knew you were trying your hardest, which is why it hurt so badly to see you still hurting. Everything seemed to be a struggle, even the simplest of tasks. You were so malnourished after a year of starvation that eating did not come naturally to you anymore. It was plain how quickly you had been wasting away, and over and over he marveled at the miracle of you being able to make your way back home.

You were terrified to bathe, and after a bit of coaxing he found it was because the men who’d taken you would make lewd comments as you did. Walking anywhere, even the safety of the house, you were peering around corners, listening for even the faintest hint of danger. You were skittish as a field mouse. The only time he wasn’t worried about you was when you were with Kat.

Motherhood had fallen upon you naturally when you’d first begun and it was an air that hadn’t left. You snuggled Kat and talked to her and told her how much you’d missed her. She called you ‘mama’ right away, something that lit an ever burning fire in him, made him want to hold you both tight and never let go. He knew you mourned the months you’d lost with her and he grieved for it right along with you.

The nightmares were a different affair. It was the part he couldn’t control, and he knew it would only ease in time. Once you became used to being safe and warm and protected again, they would cease. But for now he could only hold you, tell you as much as you needed to hear how safe you were.

“Shh,” he muttered one last time, feeling you grow heavy on his chest. Usually after waking up once you slipped back into sleep until morning. He hated to think about the nights it’d taken for you to come back, sleeping by yourself, likely jolted awake multiple times in the night by the awful stirrings of your mind. His arms tightened around you at the thought, and he hid his lips in the top of your head. It wasn’t just you he needed to remind that you were safe.

“That’s right, Kat, come here!” you encouraged, a smile brighter than the sun lighting up the room. Billy was nearly melting behind you, watching Kat wobble where she stood, her hands reaching for your outstretched ones. “You can do it!”

“Mama!” she said, reaching for you. In a clumsy movement, Kat reached one foot out and landed forward on it, doing the same with her other. You exclaimed happily, spurring her forward and into your waiting arms.

“Oh, my baby! You did it!” You kissed one of her chubby cheeks, hugging her close to your chest.

“Look at you, kitty Kat!” Billy reached out to tickle her tummy, resulting in an adorable giggle. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing your cheek. “You ready for dinner?”

You went still, holding Kat close with no response. He rubbed up and down your side, gently guiding you forward. “C’mon. Let’s get some food in ya.”

He took Kat from you to sit on his lap so you could focus on eating. She seized Billy’s spoon and banged it against the table, happy as could be. You swallowed, sitting delicately on your chair and lifting your fork, cutting a bite of chicken. The telltale signs were rising to the surface- the tears in your eyes, the distant expression, the trembling in your hands. Billy reached over and clutched one, nodding gently. “You can do it. I know you can.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, you lifted your bite to your lips, chewing for a minute and swallowing with some difficulty. His shoulders slumped. “Atta girl. You’re okay. I’m here.”

You managed another bite, then another. He could see how you wanted the food, but were hesitant to take it. There was still so much he didn’t know about your year in the hands of his enemies, and much you didn’t seem to remember. Billy could only put together bits and pieces based on what you’d told him and on your reactions. In the area of food, he wouldn’t be surprised if they punished you with it, either forcing you not to eat or forcing you to do awful things to eat.

“The chicken’s just chicken,” he promised, rubbing your thigh. “‘S nothing else to it.” His saying it seemed to calm something in you, and you managed to finish your piece, even cutting into the second one.

Billy’s pride in you most days was hard to contain. Not only had you come back to him, but you were trying to get better every single day. This was the most you’d eaten at dinner in weeks. Though it was still a meager amount, he took every win he could.

The next day he woke up early to go check on his horse, feed him a carrot or two. He’d left you sound asleep in bed, making sure you didn’t stir at the feeling of him leaving before he walked out the door.

As with most beautiful things, the sunrise made him think of you. It was a chilly morning so he’d thrown his coat on before trudging outside, grass crunching under his feet. The quiet of this time of day felt so safe, and he let himself relax. His family was all home, all safe. The sun was painting the sky pink and he could hear crickets singing their morning song. His horse snuffled and he patted his nose, tracing the stripe between his eyes.

“Billy?” He turned sharply when he heard the desperation in your voice, eyes widening when he saw you running out of the house, still in your strapless nightdress. You bolted towards him, and he only took a few steps forward before you crashed into his chest, panting in distress.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, clasping you into his arms. “Baby you’re not wearing any shoes-”

“I t-thought you were gone,” you sobbed against his chest. “I woke up and you w-weren’t there.”

“I’m right here sweetheart,” he promised, holding you close. He brought you inside the lapels of his coat, arms folded around you. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Never.”

“It’s n-not that,” you stammered, sniffling. “I r-realized that’s how you must have fe-elt when I left.” With staccato breaths, you looked up at him, eyes wide and teary. “I’m so sorry Billy. I’m so sorry.”

“Baby-” He swept you up in his arms, on the verge of tears himself. You cried muffled by him and he absorbed every bit of it. Every pain, every hardship was his to swallow and bury within his soul so you didn't have to. You were his girl and he would save you from this no matter how hard he had to try. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’d go through it a million times over if it means you come back to me every time. You’re worth all the hurt.”

He cradled you between his arms until you started shivering. Sweeping you up in his arms, Billy carried you back to the house and into the bathroom. He boiled water for the fire and filled the bathtub, stripping your nightdress off and helping you into the water.

Layer by layer, he took off his clothes and nudged you forward a little so he could get in behind you. Your quivering had lessened, and he smiled as you relaxed, back touching his stomach. One of his hands was slung over your midsection for you to hold, your fingers clasped tight in his.

“Sweet girl,” he mumbled into your hair. Billy thumbed your wedding ring, which you hadn’t removed since you’d gotten it back. It was as if you were determined to never be separated from him in any degree.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words starting a fire in his chest. They did every single time.

Billy kissed your hair. “I love you. And Kat loves you.” He positioned one arm over your collarbone, holding you protectively. “We love you forever.”

“Forever.” You sounded more dreamy than before, and he took some steady breaths in. Sometimes he had to remind himself you were safe too, nearly as much as you did.

Whenever Billy woke up in the night after a dream where you were ripped from his arms, it took only the mere sight of you to restore his calm. Seeing you sleeping peacefully was a remedy like no other. Maybe someday when you were better he’d tell you about the awful things his mind put on him, but this wasn’t the time. He wouldn’t miss you when you weren’t gone. You were here- his love, his survivor.

“Forever,” he repeated once more, but this time it was a promise.

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x you #billy the kid series #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid tom blyth #billy the kid fic #william h bonney #william h bonney x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #milliesfishes billy

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amor-godess-of-love · 3 months ago

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Headcanons for Jonathan Crane adopting a black cat

@jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear you didn't thought that little story was all you will get, you get full request package🧡.

Headcanons for Jonathan Crane adopting a black cat:

• We all know that Jonathan is mostly a bird person, but he also has soft spot for all kinds of animals. This love reaches back to his childhood in Georgia, where farm animals were his only friends.

• It's not a strange sight to leave food for strays of Gotham when he is out to feed of his beloved corvids.

• Until one night, he is slowly going back to his safehouse, when his attention is caught by his beloved corvids that seems to alarm him to something. When he approches the box his friends surrounds, he finds a decay box with a little black kitten inside.

• Poor thing was alone and definitely sick. He knows crows are opportunistic, so he isn't suprise to find some bleeding talon marks on the small kitten. He knows to well how painful this can be.

• The Kitten reminds him of how scared, hurt and alone like he was as a child. Beside by the state of box, it's clear this kitten was out here for a while. He could guess why no one took him in. "Black cats bring bad luck" his ass. He knows even more how does it feel to be an outcast. So next thing this kitten knows is fact he is carried and wrap in Jonathan's warm scarf.

•Inside his safehouse first order of business is cleaning that little ball of fur and tending to it's wounds. He also gives his crows a stern talking about treating they new guest well.

• That night Jonathan falls asleep around the little fluff ball, making sure it will make it through a night. Since he does kinda feel responsible for it, since his crows did attack it.

• Next morning it becomes clear that little kitten is malnourished and requires special attention. So Jonathan begrudgingly decides to call Catwoman. Luckily for him the moment he mentions a "A sick abondom kitten he took", Selina is already half-way to his safehouse.

• With Selina help he manages to bring the little buddy back to health. With a fallow up visits to Selina house to make sure that everything is ok, as well for more advice how to take care of the little fur ball.

• During that time it's clear Jonathan bonded with a adorable thing. So did his flock. He catch more often then not his crows cuddling with the kitten as well as playing with it. The little thing became stable during his reading out loud sessions, snuggling in his lap as he reads.

•Jonathan decides to keep Phobos, as he named it, it's now part of the flock. He builds a special cat house for it and buys all kinds of toys.

• Phobia proofs to be quite intelligent kitty. Picking up on fact his crows bring him little trinkets from they daily flights. So it starts to being back to Jonathan small things it hunted for him: a mouse, rat, big spider, pigeon , frog....etc . Jonathan does enjoy this gifts in equal way he enjoys his crows trinkets. He often uses the dead animals to test his victim reactions to having such corpses drop in they lap.

• The kitten is spoiled rotten, just like his crows. Best brand of cat food, groom every two days, scratches whenever it wants, daily playtime.

• He also makes sure that just as his crows are feed when he is away or back in Arkham, Phobos is also feed well and still taken care off. The photos of Phobos snuggling with the flock or of it trying to gloom the birds always brightens Jonathan day while in Arkham.

• Ofcourse him getting a pet is a big deal for his friends. For first weeks, after Photos get's better he has many visitors who want to meet the new addition to his flock:

-When Edward first visited, Phobos wasn't big fan of the smell of motor oil that cling to him. The fur ball just hiss and paw at him, causing Edward to whine and throw a fit. But it's clear Phobos does like him, as it always fallows him around when he visits.

-Jervis fallen in love at first side, giving the little kitten nickname of "Cheshire" for obvious reasons. He just couldn't stop petting the cutte little fur ball and with each visit would bring new homemade treats for it.

-Ofcourse Harley couldn't be left out. The moment she heard that Jonathan adopted a kitten she just had to see it with her own eyes. She brought a lot of all kinds of toys for the little thing and spent hours just cuddling it. Seems Phobos found her ponytails to be excellent toy. At first Jonathan try to apologise to Harley and scold the cat. But Harley found it absolutely cute and let's Phonos just play with her hair as she cuddles him.

-Selina stayed in contact. Apparently she found the man that abondom Phobos and "took care of him". Jonathan often brought Phobia to Selina to let it socialise with her clowder of cats. She even proposed to adopt the little thing, but it was clear Phobos already bonded with the flock. She still send Jonathan tips from time to time.

• Phobos turn out to be very loyal cat, always coming back whenever he leaves for adventure, usually with some kind of prey for Jonathan. He also always jumps into Jonathan's laps when he feels his owner is upset. Jonathan couldn't ask for better cat, specially after that one time Phobos sratch Batman in the face. He got a lot of yummy treats that day. To him Phobos brought only luck since he show up in his life.

Hoped you like it ^^

With dedication to my own fur ball

#dc #dc au #jonathan crane #scarecrow #scarecrow dc #headcanon #Just Jon adopting cat into his flock #Every flock needs that one weird brother #Black cats deserve so much love

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lunarw0rks · 2 years ago

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Old Bones | Chapter One

Summary: After fleeing a toxic relationship, you fear for your safety and hire a bodyguard. He's masked, impassible, and damn good at what he does. | Word Count: 2.2k

Warning(s): strong language, mentions abusive relationship, gun mention, talk of death, trauma/PTSD themes, Fem!Reader

A/N: gonna be honest I got this idea from a c.ai bot. If you want to be on the taglist for this let me know <3

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ♡¸.•*' ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ next chapter | masterlist | ao3 ver. | playlist ꒦꒷ O.B MASTERLIST

On The Lam

The luminance of the sun beating down on you nearly distracted you from every tense thought telling you to back out. It felt ridiculous, standing out in the open like this, even if it was a populated area. The conversations of bypassers came in pieces.

A woman bickering with her husband about what takeout to get; an elderly woman talking to a most likely disinterested grandchild; a fuckboy bragging to one of his friends about how he scored the previous night—you yearned for the days where life was that simple. Living in blissful ignorance, when you were hopeful for the future ahead of you.

If you’d seen your past self, only a few months younger, you’d have called her a moron. How could you have not known? The red flags were all so obvious in hindsight. And for your stupidity, you’ve been living a life of recluse, wondering which stranger who passes you will eventually have his face.

In the present, cursing yourself for making an even denser decision: meeting a stranger online, someone to keep you safe. Shelters are too crowded, the police department is a joke, and cat and mouse can only go on for so long.

What can you say? Desperation makes people do things far from themselves. The saying goes both ways, you figure—each day that passes when he can’t find you is an increasing jeopardy to your safety.

You nearly squeeze the life out of the coffee cup you’re holding when the black pickup truck parks near the curb, just like you’d planned. His car was real, that’s all you knew. The windows were tinted, as dark as the law would allow. It could be anyone sitting inside the driver's seat.

The engine idles for a few seconds, before it comes to a stop. However, the driver doesn’t leave the truck to reveal himself. It’s up to you to make a decision. He’s surely already staring at you, as you stand there like a roach that’s staying still to avoid detection.

The speed of your steps towards the vehicle are about as fast as the pitter of your heart, increasing when you climb inside. You look in the backseat first, and indeed, there’s no one back there waiting to ambush you.

He’s staring at you, hands resting on either of his thighs, as if this wasn’t some sketchy meetup straight out of CSI, where the unsuspecting woman ends up wrapped in a tarp by the five minute timestamp. But he’s not giving you a look of malice or anger, it was the absence of emotion.

You fish out the envelope from your pocket, the deposit for his trouble, and then flash your phone screen, showing proof that you were the other text bubble responding to him. He takes the package and skims through the bills with his calloused thumb, giving a nod of approval.

If he wanted to hurt you, he could’ve locked the truck door by now and drove off God knows where. But he hadn’t. This ridiculous situation could be real after all.

He speaks first, revealing his weathered deep voice, with an accent you can’t locate. “Apartment or house?”

You take a few moments to process, shaking away the metaphorical cat that has your tongue. “It’s an apartment… Downtown, by the projects.” Your voice wavers slightly as you meet his callous gaze.

The ragged voice dripping with disdain, the eyes that look like they’ve witnessed it all, muscular arms that could choke you out in seconds, the insignia tattooed on his forearm, the small scars you can see around his eyes. You can only imagine how he looks under the balaclava tightly gripping his face.

You feel like it’s one danger stacked on top of the other—on the lam from an ex-lover, living in a chancy neighborhood, and now sitting in the car with one of the most intimidating men you’ve ever laid eyes on.

He closes off the envelope again, sticking the wad of cash into the cup holder. Next, he reaches into the center console, pulling out an ancient flip phone and a scrap piece of paper and pen.

“This is the burner phone you’ll use until our contract is up. No outside calls, no texting, and under no circumstances will you use your personal cell.” He has the phone outstretched, but won’t allow you to take it until you’ve nodded to reassure that you’re listening.

You flip up the screen, seeing only one number listed in the contact. No photos, no apps, nothing else. You stuff it into the pocket of your jeans, retrieving the paper and pen next.

“Write down your address, flat number, and cell. Everything we discussed before.”

You scribbled down all the info, cursing yourself at the awful handwriting before you. He doesn’t glance at your work, just hastily takes the items back and stuffs them into his pocket.

He then gives you a look of vexation, like you’re supposed to know what the next step in all this is.

With the tightening of his brow, he huffs and reaches across your lap, so close it makes you lean as far back into the seat as possible at the sudden proximity. His elbow is digging into your abdomen as he outstretches his arm toward the lock.

Click.

You jump at the sudden noise, despite the threat of him immediately harming you diminishing now that you have a possible escape. You’re not going to take your chances now, despite the fact that your address is folded in his pocket. Not your smartest decision, but neither was marrying the one that landed you in this situation.

You climb out of the vehicle, giving him one last glance before you shut the passenger door. There’s no going back now. You’re a few hundred dollars less, and a few hairs away from packing up and skipping town again.

You get inside your own car, turning the key to begin your drive home. His black truck tails you the whole way back, looking even more out of place in the sketchy neighborhood your apartment resides in.

When you enter the lobby, you gaze out at him through the window. He’s parked in front of the opposing building, probably trying to appear conspicuous. The landlord is sure to notice a “visitor” taking up your second parking space day by day. He moves like he’s done this a thousand times, like he’s thought of every way for someone to flag his presence.

By the time you reach the stairwell, he’s behind you, following your path up to your apartment. When you reach the inside, it’s as if you’re seeing your own place for the first time.

The barren walls where you hadn’t bothered to tack anything onto, the pathetic looking sofa in front of your box TV, not to mention your kitchen—the counters and stove untouched. The only sign of life is little traces of you; your laptop, still open and displaying what you were last browsing, the laundry you hadn’t folded yet, not to mention the mess of luggage in the corner.

It’s obvious to him by now that you’re not here to stay for long, and there’s a palpable reason for him being here. No one lives like this by choice. That wasn’t his problem, though. He was your muscle, your already paid muscle, so what does he care about the disorderliness of your apartment?

“I cleared out the spare room for you. It’s not much, I know.” You turn the corner, revealing what was more of a broom closet than a bedroom. You’d put out an air mattress for him, as well as a folding chair to pose as a nightstand.

He doesn’t react, just gives the scene a glance, then moves on without you. He’s casing the place, taking note of the layout in his mind. The lack of grandeur would come in handy. Two exits—entrance and terrace, only a few small windows, and not many rooms for an intruder to hide in. This was nothing to him.

Once he’s finished his walkthrough, you’re both standing in the entrance again.

“I supply my own weapons,” he pronounces, giving the living space one more scan. You had noticed it by now, the holster on his dominant side.

His eyes instinctively come back to you as you fiddle with your fingers in apprehension, how you’re wearing a wedding ring, but clearly no sign of a lover with you.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out the situation at hand: a woman fleeing from her spouse. But he knew there was more to this plight than just a hotheaded spouse. You weren’t the stereotypical battered woman he was expecting—no visible injuries, no cowering at the sight of his large frame, nor were you a petrified dear in the headlights.

He’d prefer it that way. Less strings attached, less drama, less chance of this job turning messy.

You force your nervous hands to your sides, noticing how he studied them. Though he was technically on your payroll, you felt you were in no position to question him.

He was actively standing in your apartment, had access to your information—it was a little late for cold feet.

—

“Did your husband strike you?” The officer questioned, not bothering to read the cues in front of him.

You hadn’t called them. It was your nosy neighbor, who somehow spent more time eavesdropping on your arguments than anything else. The icy concrete steps provide no comfort to your shivering legs as you’re perched on them, still in shock of it all.

“No, we were arguing,” you mutter, feeling overwhelmed by his grilling and the blue and red flashes lighting up the street. He hadn’t struck you. That was the truth. Why was it so goddamn difficult to tell the truth?

You felt this was all smoke. That the tension between the two of you would ease up after your place is swarmed with cruisers.

It should’ve been, at least. The serenity came and went as fast as the impatient officer. Instead of the previous dramatics of flying cutlery, it was hushed threats and holds on you that bruised where only you could see.

It was those evenings that you prayed for your nosy neighbor, or anyone for that matter to give you an out. No one did. He was too stifled, and too smart for that; the type of temper more disturbing than any man throwing violent punches.

You weren’t foolish. Things would get worse, you’d be completely dependent on him, and then dead before you had the chance to make an escape. You swore that wouldn’t happen to you—becoming a martyr for abused women. You weren’t going to be the next awareness story spread on social media.

Legalities were laughable, so you bailed. Packed up each of your belongings piece by piece, and bought the first plane ticket out of there. The leaving wasn’t the daunting part, like you’d heard before. No, it was the running—hiding away in your apartment, having to look over your shoulder in the checkout line, all of it.

Your husband’s wit was what charmed you in the first place. Then, it was his determination; it was jarring and never ending. But now, they were parts of him so potent they sent a chill down your spine.

You weren’t going to cut and run without that damn persistence of his close on your tail.

—

You find yourself repeating the same routine. Laying there, staring at the water damaged ceiling above you, worrying endlessly about the road ahead of you.

Fate was something you once viewed as the reason for all the bullshit—the happenings already in place for you, sometimes ending in a lesson or a new chapter. It had to be fate, the way he’d find you eventually, no matter how much distance you make.

As you wandered out of your room, you rub the fatigue away from your eyes, steadying your view of the dim apartment. The carton nearly slips through your fingers when you see him lightly snoring in the armchair instead of his room. That was something you needed to get used to, that’s for sure.

He stirs awake, coming to attention immediately. You give him the pointless offer of something to drink, met with the rejection you were expecting. He remains there, hands folded across his chest in restlessness.

You flick on one of the shotty lights, which flickers constantly as it does a terrible job of lighting your kitchenette. You pull out a chair and take a seat at your table, rubbing your thumb along the glass in a soothing fashion as you take small sips from it.

It was becoming a pattern, long before you moved here. Gazing out at the shimmering stars in the sky, using them as a distraction from the chaos around you.

When you’d run out of tearful words, or the dread of what he’d do wouldn’t let them escape your lips—you look out the window at the stars. It felt sick to find solace in something that reminded you of him, but you did nonetheless. Your mind wasn’t plagued with remembrances—rather, it was deserted, as if its way of coping with the scars it still harbored.

The man sitting in your apartment knew that freeze all too well—the pause of total dissociation. The eyes of the person glossed over and expressionless. All he could do was hold his gaze on you as you sat at the table, unable to form any words of reassurance.

An intruder busts in, and his countermoves would be swift, precise, and lethal. Beyond the shadow of his nonchalance, he was a man yearning for the distraction of the night sky.

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