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hollyhomburg · 3 months

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Before I Leave You (Pt.66)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.

W/c: 8.3k

A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

(Four years prior, Hoseok)

Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.

It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.

This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.

The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.

Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.

What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-

After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.

He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.

He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him

It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.

"I don't want you to get sick pup."

"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."

"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"

But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.

His ex-pack omega.

It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.

He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.

Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).

Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.

He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.

Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.

(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).

Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.

“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”

The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.

The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.

He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.

This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.

He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.

Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.

Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.

The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.

Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.

Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).

Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.

“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”

“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”

“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”

"Wait, please- I love you."

"We know. We're sorry."

Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.

He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.

Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.

Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.

Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.

Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.

Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.

The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.

He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."

That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.

(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")

Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.

Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.

When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.

(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.

They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.

The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.

“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."

Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.

~-~

(Now, You)

You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.

But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.

You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.

The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.

The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.

Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.

There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.

This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.

You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.

Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.

Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.

Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.

It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.

Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;

How dare she.

How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).

How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.

There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.

The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.

Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.

The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.

The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.

A single inch.

His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.

He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.

When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.

(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)

By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”

You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.

The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).

The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-

and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.

You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.

Why didn't he shoot?

The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.

One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.

Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.

"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"

You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.

“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”

He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.

You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.

The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.

There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.

A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.

There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.

Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?

Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.

If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.

Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”

You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.

When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.

Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards

But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.

The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.

Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.

And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.

Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.

“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”

The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.

Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.

They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.

Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.

Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.

He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.

Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.

Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.

“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”

The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.

The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.

“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”

Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.

But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.

His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."

You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”

He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”

Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.

“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”

“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.

“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."

The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.

You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-

“Please- please don’t kill them."

He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”

He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.

“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.

You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.

Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.

“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.

“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”

You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.

You won't let any of this happen.

The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.

If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.

you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.

“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”

You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-

You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.

“Pup-”

You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.

Only-

Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.

You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.

“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”

Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.

“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”

The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.

But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”

Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.

Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.

“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”

"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"

Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.

Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.

No.

Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.

I love you. Sorry.

The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.

Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.

If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.

Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.

“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.

“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”

“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”

Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”

It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.

But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.

Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.

She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.

I’m sorry, I love you.

“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.

When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.

She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.

And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.

Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.

The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.

The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"

Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.

“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.

“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.

You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.

And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-

Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.

By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.

They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.

And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.

“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”

Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.

Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-

At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.

Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.

Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.

The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.

Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.

Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.

And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.

There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.

The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.

Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.

His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.

Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.

You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.

There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.

“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”

There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.

“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.

Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.

It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.

It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.

~-~

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Notes:

if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?

One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.

Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(

hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.

i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.

i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.

I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.

I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.

This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.

i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.

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wynnyfryd · 27 days

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 60

part 1 | part 59 | ao3

cw: reference to canonical minor character death

Max slams the phone down, knocking her forehead against the wall. Sixteen calls in a row and still no answer. “I give up,” she sighs. “You should just go.” “Seriously?” Steve protests. “And just leave you here? Alone? After—?” After all that? He throws his hands out like an umpire calling a safe. “No. No way.” “Look, my mom will be home soon, you can’t—” “—I’m not letting you get hurt—!” “—What are you gonna do? Fight my nightmares for me?”

“Maybe I will,” Steve mutters under his breath, pissed off and replaying the conversation on repeat while he gets ready. Feels like a psycho for doing it; feels certifiably unhinged just going about his evening after everything that happened, putting on a clean shirt and choking himself in a cloud of Farrah Fawcett spray so he can go pick up the sweet-but-stupid girl named Brenda he promised to take to the game tonight; so he can go cheer in the bleachers like he didn’t almost die.

(Or like, very vividly hallucinate his own death, which... Yeah. Doesn’t feel any less horrific.)

But whatever. Max is right. Without El, there’s really nothing to do but wait. Hop’s dead, Bob’s dead, Joyce is thirty hours away. Owens is off the table, too. What’s Steve gonna do? Call the government and tell them to come nuke the boogeyman? He doesn’t have any proof.

He also doesn’t want to freak Dustin or any of the other kids out without knowing for sure what’s going on and what, if anything, can be done about it, so...

Fuck.

Fuck!

He gets dressed; he goes out. Picks up Brenda and does his best to be nice to her even though she gets on his nerves the moment she gets into his car, and he buys them sodas at the gas station and doesn't say a word when she spills Sprite down the side of his passenger seat.

The school is packed when they show up — the crowd in high spirits, the marching band leading chants. Nancy's reporting from the sidelines, Lucas is laughing with his teammates on the bench, and Steve leads Brenda toward the bleachers and does his best not to think. Not about the graveyard, not Max, not the looming threat of cosmic terrors. Not about the fact that Eddie is somewhere in this building, probably looking all hot and menacing while he leads tonight's campaign. Probably perched on a prop throne drinking Mountain Dew from a painted chalice like a fucking dork; probably making it look sexy, anyway. Tight jeans, legs spread, an air of casual command…

Steve could go find him. He could make everyone else leave; he could get on his knees and crawl between Eddie's legs—

"Does it bother you that we might win the championship, like, right after you graduated?"

Reality comes back like a slap in the face. "Yeah, that's an excellent question, Brenda, thank you so much for bringing that up."

They get settled into their seats, and Steve wishes he were more excited when the ref throws the jump ball, but he mostly just wants to go home. ("You always want to go home," the Robin in his head reminds him, and the Robin in real life throws him a weird look when she catches him snorting to himself about it.) He's just tired. Worn down in his bones, hollowed where he thinks his marrow should be, and he's clinging to normalcy with a sort of sweaty desperation that he’s pretty sure Brenda can smell on him because the date just sucks; it’s so bland, so mutually boring and bored. He spends most of the night mouthing stupid shit at Robin or keeping a sharp eye on the court — anything to ignore his proximity to Eddie; anything to drown out his messed-up head and heart.

When the game finally ends Brenda gets a ride to a party with some friends. Steve goes back to Dustin’s place and paces a hole into the carpet. Stays up until 3 A.M., humming a Fleetwood Mac song.

In the morning, he tells himself as he drifts into fitful sleep.

In the morning it’ll be fine.

In the morning Max will come by the store like she promised, and they’ll keep trying until they get ahold of El, or Owens, or someone, and that someone will know what to do and how to help.

—

In the morning the TV tells him there’s a dead girl in his house.

—

part 61

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson

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iaure · 11 months

Text

𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁; 𝗳𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗼𝗿

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟthe dearest collection - part one/beloved 𓆩♡𓆪 part two/prized 𓆩♡𓆪 part three/devoted 𓆩♡𓆪 part four/desperate 𓆩♡𓆪 part five/blind 𓆩♡𓆪 part six/watcher 𓆩♡𓆪 part seven/ardor 𓆩♡𓆪 part eight/fervor

this is very heavily inspired by @//clusterfuck-yandere's yandere leon headcanons; please check out their works. this is something of a love letter to their puppy obsession series. roadmap for future dearest parts with dates

yandere leon s. kennedy headcanons; reader is a survivor of raccoon city.

tw: general yandere behaviour, stalking, harassment, ptsd, entrapment, delusional thinking

notes: the formatting will be slightly different in some parts, as using the headcanon format with dialogue can feel quite clunky.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ guess who's back?!?!?! muerte is here and ready to rumble!! minor hiatus over - and I'm coming in swinging! melania content is going to follow shortly, as I missed it on my roadmap, but i wanted to prioritise this!! wahh!!!! ᏊΦ ꈊ ΦᏊ

this couldn't ever possibly be enough.

♡ you were so close to him.

♡ for the first time in so long, you weren't hidden away, like some fairy tale.

♡ your face was certainly something-a mix of horror, confusion, and what he was sure was simply complicated happiness, not disgust.

♡ but Leon didn't mind, nor care.

♡ this would go swimmingly!!

♡ he'd gotten all dolled up and everything.

♡ there was no coworker to hide you away. no job to steal your time.

♡ it was just him and you! alone! in your apartment!

♡ his joy was practically overflowing.

♡ he knew you'd understand!

♡ you were so sweet, so kind...there was no way you wouldn't!

♡ at your silence, he realised you were most likely nervous.

♡ after all, saying 'we need to talk' is always scary.

♡ you were probably worried sick that he was upset with you! that he was angry that you couldn't see him!

♡ but he'd never be angry at you. never.

♡ "i'm not mad at you! i swear!"

♡ he gave you the best smile he could, despite his heart launching into his throat.

♡ you were too cute!

♡ he was gonna date you, marry you, woo you, sweep you off your feet, get a house together-

♡ "get out of my apartment."

♡ the vitriol in your tone was enough to make his heart drop to his shoes.

♡ where did this come from?

♡ it made his stomach churn.

♡ all he did was love you. how would that garner such anger?

♡ the fantasy of how this would play out began to tear at the seams.

♡ he knew that you had no pity or love for him, in that second.

♡ he didn't understand how this could've started off so poorly, but he knew that he needed to get out what he needed to say now.

♡ "wait, wait, please!" he begged. "please, i just need you to listen to me!"

♡ your face shifted into something uncomfortable, like you were watching a bug, and he felt so...small.

♡ why did you feel this way about him? what did he do wrong?

♡ he wanted to crawl into a hole and die, just from the sheer pity and disgust of your gaze alone.

♡ you crossed your arms.

♡ "then talk."

♡ he immediately been pooling out his confession, stuttering and stumbling over his own words and embarrassment.

♡ he could barely hear what he was saying, let alone you possibly understanding it.

♡ he was functioning purely off of fear now, ready to sob and beg to whatever higher power that he had a chance.

♡ you put your hand up. "i don't understand gibberish."

♡ the force with which Leon's jaw clamped shut was biblical.

♡ he felt like a puppy who'd been chastised, wanting nothing more than to please you, to make you happy.

♡ his brain ran completely blank. he didn't what to say, what to do, how to fix this.

♡ wait! the flashcards!

♡ he began fumbling into his pockets, yanking out the flashcards. but some fell out of his hands, some were upside down, and others were smudged.

♡ it felt like the world was ending.

♡ you were watching him, and the sheer humiliation of it all felt like his entire existence was for naught.

♡ no, no. he couldn't give up. you gave him a chance, and if he blew it, he'd never forgive himself.

♡ he had this one opportunity.

♡ he stared up at you, at how you towered over him while he was sitting. you were so...perfect. how could he compare?

♡ he took a deep breath. he needed to calm down. calm...

♡ and he knew what he had to do.

♡ "i love you!"

♡ he was sure that his honesty would win you over, would bring back your love for him.

♡ but you raised an eyebrow, and he could only stare in horror.

�� "and why does that warrant you breaking in?"

♡ your line of questioning made his heart fall into the earth's crust.

♡ he could only gape for a second, trying to realise just where along the line this went so wrong.

♡ it totally wasn't when he barricaded you in with him, right?

♡ "i...i needed to talk to you. and you've been avoiding me, so..."

♡ your frown was worse than any kind of possible nightmare he could have.

♡ "and how does that translate into you harassing me? stalking me? scaring the hell out of me?"

♡ the guilt was eating him alive. he absolutely, totally, completely went about this the wrong way, and now he's paying for it.

♡ you get up to move, and instantly, he knew it was now or never.

♡ if he let you get any further away, then he'd be giving up.

♡ he made an unceremonious dive for your legs, praying and sobbing against everything that you wouldn't just kick him in the shins.

Leon looked up at you, at how your face contorted into confused disgust. You looked at him as though he were nothing more than the dirt under your feet. And he hated to admit just how much he liked it. You were looking at him. It was everything. The smell of you overwhelmed him, eyes wide and a flush on his cheeks.

"Please! Please don't!" He hated just how much this made his heart thunder in his chest. You were looking at him. All he wanted was your eyes on him, all the time. If you looked away, he'd just...die. It'd be all over. Look at him, every day, please? "If you leave, I'll die! My heart would just stop beating! I can't live without you! You're everything to me! You're my world, and-! Please!"

You looked at him, scanning over his face as your nose scrunched up. Your mouth was slightly askew, tired from your work and from Leon...and you were perfect. Tears came to his eyes from just how overwhelming the entire situation was. This was the closest he'd been to you since you let him sleep in your bed. He knew he needed you to move, to get away from anywhere away from him.

He stood, gently tracing his hand up your body as he began to lead you back to the couch. Your movements were so slow, so uncertain...but that was alright. This was all about you and ensuring your own sense.

He had to come clean.

♡ he confessed to having known you on the internet, even back then.

♡ the look on your face was...something. you didn't seem as surprised as he thought you would be.

♡ he confessed to having come into your home before. he admitted to snagging some of his own prizes, to indulging a bit. he admitted to making sure you got home safe, in his own way.

♡ there was a lot he confessed, but he didn't particularly care or mind.

♡ he could see you think, could see your opinion shift in and out as he spoke.

♡ he wasn't sure what all your thoughts were. but you didn't look at him with disgust anymore.

♡ it leaned more towards pity, truthfully, but he certainly didn't mind.

♡ you didn't hate him anymore.

♡ this had gone the absolute best way possible.

Leon kept on talking, praying that the more he did, the more likely you were to love him back. To give him the dedication he gave you. All he ever wanted was you. If you'd feed him even a sliver of that...he'd be happy beyond belief.

"I've loved you for...god, so long now. It's been months, I think. You were always just so nice, even to people you didn't know, you know?" He played with his hands, hoping that you'd take what he said to heart. "Back on the forum, I didn't like that you were trying to help everyone by yourself. And you were always so sweet when you responded to me. It felt like I knew you my entire life. The people from Raccoon City, the people that know what happened...it's really a world of it's own."

The memories of what had happened, those he met. Those he left behind. Marvin. Ada. Those that he failed. There was nothing that could even come close, Leon was sure of that.

"Trying to save those two...I never said their names, did I? Sherry and Claire. Sherry was maybe ten, I think. She was under my care for a while, and I saw how the outbreak was scary. Caring for someone like that is scary. And you were trying to do it for so many people. I wanted to help you."

"You know stalking someone is scary?" You looked up at him with those pretty eyes, but your voice was gentle now. Sweet, succulent, worried. He cast his head down in shame.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I'm sorry."

"When you sent those messages, I was scared shitless, Leon." Your voice was firm, but quiet, trying to get the point across. "I thought you were going to kill me or kidnap me or something."

"Never!" Leon's heart leapt back to his throat at the idea. He'd rather die than any harm come to you, at all, ever. "I'd never do that! Swear to god! I wouldn't ever hurt you! I just-! I was scared. Scared that you hurt yourself, or something. I wanted to respect your privacy for as long as possible, but...I really wasn't sure what happened."

You stayed quiet, and the fear of you getting mad again began to well up.

"And I love you. I really do." Leon bit his lip, trying not to cry again. "I know I didn't really talk about my family."

"Mhm." Your eyes flicked across his face, he saw, and he couldn't help the flush. "You knew all about mine."

"I'm sorry."

"Your family?"

"They're...well, my parents died when I was a kid. And a cop took me in. And there was a lot of people liked me when I was a teenager for my looks, and it really messed me up. Literally right before the outbreak, I had just broken up with my girlfriend."

You raised an eyebrow and Leon faltered. Maybe you were the jealous type. Maybe you didn't like that he had a girlfriend.

"Am I a rebound or something?"

"No! No! I didn't mean it like that!" Leon felt like shrieking, trying to temper his voice but horrified at the idea that you'd think you were a rebound. His ex couldn't possibly begin to compare to you, in your divine glory. "She didn't really seem to love me, and I wanted someone who wanted more than just a guy who was nice-looking. And you were nice to me when you didn't even know who I was. And you were nice to me at the bakery, and during the power outage, and it was just a lot."

A lot. That was one way to put it.

You finally spoke, and your hands reached forward a bit to actually hold Leon's. He gave a stuttering gasp, and his eyes went wide. You were touching him. He wasn't forcing it. He wasn't reaching over for you. It was you. All you. You wanted to touch him. You wanted to hold his hand. You wanted him! You wanted him!!

"What do you want out of this?"

"What?" He had to snap out of the haze of you holding his hand, tilting his head. "What?"

"You came in today hoping for an outcome." Your words were stiff, almost practiced. "What's that outcome? The best case scenario?"

Leon went still. What did he want? The best outcome was that the two of you would date, be wed, have a house, share insurance, get two cars, and Leon would come home to you, and...well. Maybe capping it at marriage was the smart idea.

"I want to marry you."

"No."

"Okay." He gave a bitter chuckle at your quick response, face falling with a wince. That was...to be expected. Of course you'd say no. You were the practical type.

"However."

"However?!" He gasped, lighting back up again. However what! He felt like a dog, with someone opening a bag of treats.

"I'm open to dating-"

Yes!!!

God loved Leon. He was the world's favourite person. He was the luckiest man to breathe. The possibility that you would even entertain the thought of dating him was everything. He could touch you. Hug you. Kiss you! Hold you! Hug you! He thought of hugging twice, but the idea was just too good to pass up. He scooped you up into his arms, cheering as calmly as he possibly could.

"I'll be the best boyfriend ever, I promise! I'll do everything for you, I'll move in right away-or you can move in with me! We'll figure it out! I love you! I'm so excited! This is the best day of my life! I love you so much!"

"L-Leon!" You gasped, trying to get some words out past his bear hug. "On some conditions!"

Leon let you go, keeping his hands on your arms. His grin was like the sun opening up. If you asked him for the moon on a ring, he'd like the band with the stars and forge it all with the sun and make metal out of the night sky. He'd do anything.

"Of course! Anything!"

"One-don't threaten Selia."

"Who?" He paused. He knew only of a handful of people, but Selia wasn't a name he recalled.

"My coworker?" At your words, Leon's eyes went wide, with a 'ooohhh'. "I, believe or not, like hanging out with her."

"Okay." Leon nodded.

"Stop stealing my stuff. Ask first."

"Sounds good!"

"And just walk me home. Don't stalk me."

"I mean, I was doing that before..."

"Don't sass me."

"You're the boss!" Leon leaned down to kiss you, the joy in his heart about to make him combust. If he was going to die of joy, he wanted to sneak a kiss in first, so he can say he had the single greatest experience mankind could possibly achieve. But when he closed his eyes, he felt something that wasn't quite your soft lips. It was the palm of your hand, a bit sweaty against his mouth. He opened his eyes, blinking fast and still on top of the world.

"Mmh mmh? (Too soon?)"

"Yes, Leon. Too soon."

𓂋

ʚ♡ɞ taglist @theybotomy ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @kujosuke ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @je-suis-argent-miel ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @xxacademy ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @apollodarling-writes ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @gettingsilly ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @yumekos-gamble

#yandere leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #yandere resident evil #yandere x reader #yandere resident evil x reader #˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ dearest updates #divagaciones (per)#˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ palabras muertas

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devildomwriter · 20 days

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“…Excuse me? You don’t know TSL? And you call yourself a human?! Just how clueless ARE you?! How could you not know?! Just the fact that you don’t know TSL alone is proof that you’ve been wasting your life! So, I’m going to do you a favor and teach you about TSL. Make sure you pay attention! The Tale of the Seven Lords, otherwise known as TSL, is a series of fantasy novels written by Christopher Peugeot. It’s a heroic epic spanning 138 volumes, and it’s the most widely-read fantasy series in the world. There are even theatrical versions, an animated series, and feature films, too. And it’s been translated into a total of 182 different languages. The 1990s theatrical version was an utter disaster, owing to the fact that they added several characters that were NOT present in the original manuscript. At the time I was like, “this producer totally needs to crawl into a hole and die!” But then the 2015 version came out, and it was AMAZING! Better than amazing! If you ask me, it showed that needlessly cramming a female lead in there alongside Henry was a bad idea. That’s not what he needs. What he NEEDS is a friend who really understands him, and the 2015 version proved that.

Also, the most vital element of the story is that each of the Seven lords is so unique. They’re all so interesting in their own peculiar way. That’s what makes TSL so great! The lords are all brothers…the oldest is called the Lord of Corruption. He doesn’t come across as being so bad at first, but he’s always plotting and planning in secret. The second oldest is the Lord of Fools, a scumbag who’ll do anything for money. The third oldest is called the Lord of Shadow, a brooding recluse. The fourth oldest is known as the Lord of Masks. He masquerades as a high-status, upstanding member of society, but underneath it all, he’s an inhumane monster. The fifth oldest, the Lord of Lechery, only ever thinks of sex. The sixth oldest is the Lord of Flies, and he only ever thinks of food. The seventh oldest, called the lord of Emptiness. He’s weird…you never know what’s running through his head! It seems most people like the oldest lord, the lord of corruption, the best. Everyone always talks about how great he is. But not me. I like the third Lord way more. Of course, I like Henry too. He’s the protagonist. He’s almost as great as the third lord. The second Lord is total scum, a hopeless degenerate that leads a life of extravagance and indulgence. He’s always causing trouble for the third lord. He’s got these magical pigs that can give birth to solid gold piglets, and he treasures them above all else. So Henry goes and talks to the pigs, and using his wit and powers of persuasion, he convinces them to leave with him. Then, he leads every last one of them away, and presents them to the third lord as a gift! Wow…I mean, they’re SUCH GOOD FRIENDS you can almost feel it! It’s enough to make you cry! Oh, and then there’s that one really awesome moment when the two of them realize they both like and respect each other, and they high-five! I just LOVE that part, you know? I wish I could have a moment like that. …I wish I could be like the third lord. I may be a recluse like him, but we’re totally different, because he’s got an amazing friend like Henry. Check it out. See that goldfish in the fish tank there? He’s actually named Henry. I love TSL so much that I couldn’t help naming him after the main character. But I cant really high-five a goldfish, can I?

The original author of TSL, Christopher Peugeot, he’s actually a human, you know? That’s why I’m so jealous of you guys. Humans are so lucky, you’ve got subscription services that let you watch your favorite anime anytime, you can go to Akihabara whenever you want… Why do only you guys get to experience all the good stuff? I mean, humans’ whole concept of pleasure originally came from us demons, you know? We gave it to you. So, why can’t we have a little bit of it back now, huh? I mean, I want to be able to go to a Japanese maid café, too. I want to hear the maids welcome me as if I’m the master of the house, and have them draw ketchup hearts on my friend ride omelette, to experience the magic of it all. I want to cosplay as Henry, and then go stand in the center of Akihabara, or maybe that one building in Tokyo that’s shaped like upside-down triangles. And once I’m there, I want to perform Henry’s super-powerful signature finishing move for all to see and say the incantation that goes with it. I want to shout it at the top of my lungs!...Actually you know what? I want to BE Henry.”

— Leviathan’s longest TSL rant (Chapter 1-13)

#literally the rant was so long I had to break it up because tumblr wouldn’t let me post it all together #obey me shall we date #obey me quote #obey me quote of the day #obey me leviathan #obey me leviasim #obey me tsl #obey me leviathan quotes #obey me chapter 1

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snowbunny-narrative · 7 months

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My adventure... with a horse.

Its finally time to spill all the details about my horse adventure... I'm so sorry this took so long but life has been busy and chaotic for me. I know I'm late but I promise it's worth it.

So Angie fetched me and took her to a farm that was near the wedding venue. Really pretty place with lots wild life and plenty of green, open spaces.

When we got there, she parked near a barn and made me get out and strip. There were a few other cars there so I knew we weren't alone. Once I was naked she told me to stand, facing the barn wall with my hands up and then she sprayed me down with a garden hose, telling me I need to be clean and pretty for this cock

I was soaking wet when she grabbed a first full of my hair and started to lead me in. I took a step and she pushed my on to the floor on my hands and knees and said no bitch, you stay on all fours like a little horse.

I crawled in, being led by her pulling my hair. There were people sitting in a cinema style all facing a stage... which is where she was taking me

She led me up onto the stage and on the stage there was a scaffold frame with a wooden platform on it. She told me to get on it and stay on my hands and knees and keep my ass out and chest on the platform... then she started to tie me. I was completely immobile and exposed when she was done.

She started to lube me... my entire ass, ass cheeks and my pussy. I felt her stick the bottle in my ass and squirt some inside me. It was so cold going up my ass

By now I was trembling. I was so scared and kind of wanted to back out

I could hear the horses hooves outside... then a huge stable door opened in front of me and I could see this massive black horse being led in by his trainer

He was huge... insanely huge. When I stood next to him later, the top of my head didn't even make it to his shoulder blades.

I cried a little bit and squirmed against my restraints. I tried to think logically about how I could get out of this and realized I was too low for him and felt a brief wave if relief

The trainer stopped in front of me and my face was sort of at knee height for the horse. She brought the horse closer and I could see his cock... the head was flared, the veins were thicker than my fingers and it was long. ...

My relief was shattered when the platform I was tied to started to rise. It was on a hoist if some sort and ìt lifted me until my holes were at the perfect height for this beast to impale me

The trainer led the horse around me and he mounted... I was so scared. She was still holding him back a little when he tried to thrust and his cock slid up, between my ass cheeks. It felt like someone was pulling my cheeks apart, that's how huge he was

Eventually, his gigantic cock head found my asshole... I thought I was going to die. I have never been stretched like that before. I felt like I was high and having sex, the kind of high where you can feel every fold of skin and every vein of the cock inside you.

It was just 4 or 5 thusts and then I felt his cock kicking inside me and my insides swelling as he sprayed his load in my guts

I took it like that one more time and then my mistress took the reigns from the trainer. She told me that now I'm going to take this cock with no one restraining him

He mounted me again, this time thrusting with power into my gaping asshole, pushing even deeper into me. I screamed and I'm sure I blacked out but came to in time to feel him pump his cum into me

Before the final time, Angie went around and guided him so the head of his cock was against my pussy when he mounted me for the last time. He thrust into me and I orgasmed all over his cock. My pussy clenching onto him

Angie had a bucket to collect his cum from my pussy and untied me after he dismounted. She flipped me over and told me to raise and spread my legs. She positioned me so that my back was raised and I was looking up at my pussy as she put the speculum in and opened my aching hole

I watched her insert a thick, clear pipe into my pussy, I felt it hit my cervix and then she pumped all the cum she gathered into me. Completely filling me

And then... she started to pour hot wax into my pussy to form a plug and seal all that horse cum inside me

I was allowed to remove the plug the next morning and drink what ever cum remained inside me as a reminder of the absolute pounding that I had taken.

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stevieharringtonwifeguy · 10 months

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5 times Steph and Eddie refer to each other as husband and wife +1 time they make it official

Part 1 (also on ao3 here)

...............................................

Stevie probably should have shut this all down weeks ago.

The kids have been calling her mom since before she even came out to them, so she’s admittedly kind of given up on stopping that one. The problem is now they’ve gotten Eddie in on it.

Well, Eddie’s not calling her mom. If he started doing that, she thinks she’d no longer be fit for public. She’d have to crawl in a hole and never come out, like how old cats sometimes wander away to die alone, except she’d be dying not of old age but of the mortification of an unrequited crush. So luckily, that isn’t happening.

But now, as she arrives at the Wheelers’ house to pick up the kids after a D&D session, she’s forced to confront the fact that Eddie calling her mom is not apparently the worst thing that could come of this whole thing.

It starts when she’s getting on Dustin’s case about leaving his shit all over the basement. These kids treat every space they’re in like they own it, but Stevie is very aware how hard Karen had to work to convince Ted to let Eddie host Hellfire here, and she’s not about to let that hard work go to waste just because the kids left the basement a bomb site.

Dustin rolls his eyes at her nagging, lets out a long-suffering sigh and a “Yes, mom,” and Stevie has barely finished giving him an obligatory sisterly noogie before things get out of hand.

“If Stevie’s our mom, does that make Eddie our dad?” Lucas says, casually, completely unaware that putting ‘Eddie’ and ‘dad’ in the same sentence has just completely broken Stevie’s brain.

Eddie, though. Eddie smells blood in the water. He’s got that look on his face, that one Stevie usually loves, the one he always gets right before he commits to a bit with overdramatic vigour.

Sure enough, Eddie immediately prostrates himself over the couch, hand to his forehead, looking the picture of a lovelorn idiot. “Stevie,” he says, sounding genuinely heartbroken. “It’s just been so hard, raising our kids alone since the divorce.”

Stevie scoffs. “You’re raising our kids? You get them for a few hours once a week, pretty sure I’m the one shuttling their ungrateful asses to and from school every day.”

“Ungrateful?” Dustin splutters, as if he doesn’t show up at Stevie’s door at entirely random times of the day and demands she drive him to whatever nerd shit he’s got going on next.

“You’re right, that’s unfair,” she says, and then before anyone can get a word in: “You’re lovely, Will, always so polite. But the rest of you little shits. Ungrateful.”

Will smiles serenely as his friends immediately erupt into complaints, and Eddie ignores them all to prostrate himself at Stevie’s feet.

“I know I haven’t been around often, but baby, won’t you give me another chance?”

Stevie thinks she’d probably give Eddie anything he asked for, as long as he’s asking on his knees before her. It’s definitely a good look for him, and it’s only the clamour of the kids around her that keeps her face from going bright red.

She’s gotta play it cool here. Roll with the ridiculousness, always the best way to deal with Eddie, to keep him grinning at her like that, his whole face lit up like sunshine.

“Well…” she says, pretending to think it over, like she wouldn’t marry him in a heartbeat if he asked for real. That would be a bit much, given they’ve only known each other for a year and some change. “I suppose… although I’m not seeing a ring.”

Eddie grins like she’s fallen into some trap, and immediately slides the ring off his right hand- her favourite one with the big round stone in the middle that she likes to play with sometimes when they’re smoking together- and holds it up to her, a challenge in his eyes. Well. Only way out is through. She holds out her hand for him, the left one, and he slides the ring gently onto her ring finger. It fits perfectly.

“There you go,” he says, softly. His eyes are so warm, like pools of melted chocolate, and Stevie feels like she might drown in them. Her whole world has narrowed to the man on his knees before her- she’s distantly aware of the kids around them losing their minds (she’s pretty sure Mike is gagging, but that’s so far from her mind right now it might as well be happening on a different planet).

Eddie smiles up at her. “There’s my wife.”

“Your wife,” she whispers, unbearably fond. Stevie wants to hear him call her that for the rest of her life.

This really isn’t helping with her crush.

Sound filters in slowly, the world around them coming back in with the hushed whispers of the kids. Honestly, they’re quieter than she thought they’d be after this display, although the way Mike is rubbing his ribs suggests that this peace was hard won. They round the kids up pretty easily after that, with surprisingly little complaining as Stevie harangues them into cleaning up their shit. Eddie helps, occasionally glancing up at Stevie and looking quickly away with a fierce blush.

Later, after Stevie’s dropped off most of the kids and it’s only her and Will left in the car, riding home in silence as Stevie fiddles with the ring still on her finger, she tries not to read too much into everything that just happened. Will isn’t helping.

“So,” he says, in that sly, quiet way of his. “How long have you and Eddie been together?”

Stevie splutters. “That’s not- we’re not together. That was just- you know how Eddie is, he’s… theatrical.”

Will hums noncommittally. “He is. I don’t think that’s what that was, though. You like him, right?”

If this was any of the kids other than Will, Stevie thinks she’d deny it. God knows Dustin couldn’t be trusted with that information. But Will, quiet, sensitive Will- she thinks he’d get it.

“Yeah,” she says softly. “I really do. But it’s not- he doesn’t like me like that.”

She pulls up to the Byers’ house and parks the car in the drive. They both sit for a moment, basking in the silence. After a moment, Will suddenly leans over the gearshift, wrapping Stevie up in a weird, slightly uncomfortable hug. It feels nice.

“For what it’s worth,” he says as he pulls back and opens his door, “he looked really happy when he called you his wife. Even Eddie’s not that good of an actor.”

With that, he gently closes the car door behind him. Stevie watches as he runs up to his front door, and waves when Joyce comes out to greet him.

She drives most of the way home on autopilot, fiddling with the ring on her finger and thinking of Eddie’s face as he’d placed it on her hand. His gentle smile, his warm, chocolate eyes, full of something like love. His fingers had been rough with callouses as they’d brushed against hers, but still soft in a way that had nothing to do with his skin.

Maybe, she thinks, as she enters her quiet mausoleum of a house. Just maybe.

She goes to sleep that night, alone in her bed, with her last sight before unconsciousness being that of a gleaming ring on her left finger, and dreams of a husband who loves her.

#steddie #transfem steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #stevie harrington #steve harrington

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honeybeefae · 2 years

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Unexpected Visitors (Bat Boys x Reader)

Kinktober Day Four: In Heat

Summary// With your mother only being half river nymph, you didn’t expect to have to deal with hardly any of the things that full nymphs have to go through, especially heat. However, after a few days of painful cramping and unrelenting need, Madja diagnosed you with the thing you had thought would skip over you. So when you isolate yourself from your friends, specifically three Illyrian males, to ride it out, the last thing you expect is for them to come to your door offering help.

(My first multiple fic, my first heat fic, my first bat boys fic…ya girl is stressed but ready to impress. I hope it meets every wild fantasy you have because let's be honest, who hasn’t thought about being in the middle of them? Let me know how you like it!)

WARNINGS: 18+, smut, multiple partners, one reader, dirty talk, just so messy, oral (m&f), anal, everyone gets a hole lol, teasing, multiple orgasms, masturbation, cum eating, double penetration,

After Madja had sent you off to your apartment, giving her best advice to just ride it out until the hunger and fever broke, you felt like sobbing. The room was too hot, the feeling of your clothes on your skin stimulating you too much, and with every agonizing step towards your bedroom, you cursed your mother and her entire bloodline.

River nymphs had heats every year, it was what kept their species alive, and you couldn’t fault them for that. But you did fault your mother, who granted was only half nymph, for dismissing your concerns over the same thing happening to you and explaining that you were hardly considered one of them, your blood holding more faerie than nymph.

She had only experienced them every ten or so years so after you had hit the age of maturity and showed no signs, your mother assumed you were in the clear. If she were here now, you would be stomping your feet and shouting like a child for her lack of information that could help you at your most desperate hour.

“I’m going to die here.” You groaned, stripping off your clothes and letting the air try to dry your sweat-slicked body. “I have nothing, no one, to help and by the time anyone finds me I will be dust from how bloody hot my skin is.”

A sharp cramp twisted your stomach, sending you to your knees as you cried out in pain. Madja had given you a few tips to help you, most of them being some form of intercourse or sexual gratification, but you could barely gain the strength to use your own hand let alone prowl the streets for a poor guy.

Suddenly you remembered her suggestion of an ice bath, knowing it would at least curb the heat, and you crawled to your bathroom to turn on the tap to the coldest setting. You didn’t even wait for it to fill up, slinking all the way down as the water rose slowly.

It made you hiss at the drastic change, your skin now feeling like it was getting freezer burned, but you gritted your teeth and closed your eyes to try and meditate through the pain.

I can do this. I can get through this. I am more than my pain.

“Motherfucker.” You grunt, feeling like a knife is slicing open your belly while a fresh wave of need makes your already wet sex even wetter. Using your foot to turn off the water that was now up to your neck, you let your other hand slide into the tub and between your folds.

As soon as you touched your clit the tension in your neck and shoulders started to disappear. It was like drinking water after going through a desert, an orgasm already building up quicker than your fingers could rub.

Your mind flickered through different people, and different scenarios, trying to find one to settle on to bring you over the edge. The coil was getting tighter and tighter, your body screaming for release just as you imagine your friends, three of them to be exact, watching you hungrily as you chased your release.

The image stayed front and center in your mind, molding to them fisting their own cocks as they watched, and you felt your orgasm start to travel up your body.

Until loud, insistent knocking ripped you from your fantasy.

You let out a shriek of frustration, almost falling out of the bathtub as you got up and wrapped a towel around yourself to march over to the door. Whoever it was was still knocking, and when you yanked it open, you opened your mouth to scream at them to leave you the hell alone before letting it snap shut in shock.

Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian stood outside your apartment looking somewhat uncomfortable, all of them fidgeting in their spots as you stood there dripping wet.

Literally and figuratively.

“W-what are you guys doing here?” You stuttered, grasping your towel closer to your body while trying not to think about what you had just imagined in the bathroom. Madja had told you she would explain your condition to them, but you hadn’t expected them to come over.

“Uh, Madja told us you were sick, so we just wanted to check on you.” Cassian said while rubbing the back of his head. You knew they could smell your arousal, but you were praying to the Mother that they wouldn’t mention it, that they would just leave before the cramps came back.

“Yeah, she said you were hurting pretty bad.” Azriel added, mouth tight and hands clenched. You pinched the bridge of your nose and looked over to your High Lord, watching his eyebrows draw together in concern.

“Do you need anything, Y/N?” Rhysand asked with sincerity, making your heart flip at the kindness. They all had your best interest at heart, the four of you had been friends for years, but it was coming at the worst time possible.

“Yeah no, I’m okay.” You smiled before grunting as your cramps came back, making you grasp the doorframe with all of your strength as if it was calling out your lie. “Really, I-I’ll be fine!” The last word was more of a wheeze and you shut your eyes to take in some deep breaths.

“By the gods, Y/N, are you alright?” Rhysand cursed, catching you in his arms when your knees buckled. His warmth and scent immediately had your mind going into a frenzy, moaning as your common sense started to drift out the door when he unconsciously pulled you closer.

It felt so nice, he felt so nice, and you couldn’t stop yourself from burying your head into his neck and inhaling his smell. You missed the look he was sharing with his brothers, looking to them for answers. They licked their lips, practically tasting your arousal in the air, and Cassian motioned for everyone to go inside.

Whatever was going to happen didn’t need to be done in the hallway.

“Fuck this place is covered in her scent.” Azriel noted, his cock stirring in his pants as they went further in until they found your bedroom. He turned to look at you squirming in Rhys’s arms, noticing how you were rubbing your thighs together in need, and even he couldn’t control how his shadows slid out and down his arms in excitement and curiosity.

Rhysand laid you on the bed gingerly, groaning loudly as you all but ripped the towel off of your body. All three of them felt their morals slip, eyeing you up like a piece of meat as you reached for the closest male…who turned out to be Cassian.

You looked up at him with big, doe eyes and a pout on your lips. “Please, please touch me, I can’t do this alone…” You pleaded while moving your hands down to the front of his pants, palming the large erection that made your walls throb in want. “Cassian, please!”

He took a deep breath through his nostrils before grasping both of your hands in his own, holding you still as more pretty cries left your mouth. “What do we do? We can’t just leave her but I don’t think I can take much more of this, Rhys.”

They shared another look, as if they were speaking in their own language, before Rhys took Cassian’s place and bent down to your eye level. He grasped your face firmly, trying to use pain to get you to come back to reality for a moment so he could ask for your consent.

“Y/N? Y/N.” He said sternly, watching the light return to your eyes briefly. “You need help. We can help you but we need your consent.”

The world around was blurry, your primal instincts fighting with all their might to take back control, but you tried your best to focus on his words. They wanted to help you through this, like the good friends they were, but…

“All of you?” You questioned, words slurring while looking at Cassian and Azriel. “At the same time?”

Azriel chuckled, coming up behind you while Cassian joined Rhys in front of you. “If you can take us, angel.” He teased, one of his shadows caressing your bare arm which made a shiver overtake your body momentarily.

Rhys shot him a glare, knowing he wasn’t helping, before softening his gaze when he looked at you again. “You’re in pain, darling. Let us help you.” He cooed, his own lust prickling his blood while Cassian ran a large hand up your leg.

“We’ll take care of you sweetheart, we promise.” Cassian smirked, watching your eyes flutter at all of the attention your body was craving. It wasn’t even up for debate at the point you were out, your body so desperate for them that you would sooner throw yourself out the window than say no to the men that you dreamed of.

You licked your lips and nodded, looking deep into Rhysand’s eyes as you softly whispered, “Yes, please. I want it. I want all of you.”

As soon as you gave your permission, they descended on you, three pairs of mouths claiming you in different places. Azriel had moved your hair so he could kiss your neck, his tongue easing the fire under your skin while Cassian lifted one of your legs to start kissing up your inner calf and thigh. Rhysand had taken your lips, molding them perfectly against your own and groaning at your taste.

It was hard to focus on who to pay attention to so you decided to finally give in fully to your heat and let your body guide you. One of your hands went behind you to grasp Azriel’s hair, nails digging into his scalp while your other went down to Rhys’s collar to pull him closer.

They continued their coordinated attacks for a few more minutes before Cassian grew tired of being at the bottom. He grabbed both of your legs and threw them sideways so that you were now fully on the bed, ignoring his brothers growls as he quickly found a home between your legs.

“Look at how wet you are for us, Y/N…” He grinned, spreading you open as Azriel and Rhys bent over to look. All three of them moaned as they saw how sticky you were, the juices of your arousal now sliding down your ass from how much you wanted them.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” Cassian murmured before licking your pussy clean, his long tongue going in every crevice to taste as much as he could. You gasped loudly, your hands flying to grasp at the sheets as he ate you out.

Your hips immediately started to grind against his face while Azriel bent down to start playing with your breasts, pinching and squeezing the soft mounds that caused your sounds to grow even louder. He watched you with those dark, amber eyes as he took a nipple into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue at the same time Cassian flicked your clit.

The pleasure was making you go insane. Your head tilted back only to blink in surprise when Rhysand stared back at you, a feline grin gracing his lips as he went behind you and held your arms above your head so that you were powerless against them. He then forced your head back down so that you were watching his brothers touch you, whispering into your ear to add to your experience.

“Look at how they are touching you, darling. How desperate they are for just a taste of you.” He purred, licking the shell of your ear while you started to pant. Another coil winded tightly in your belly and they could sense it, helping you get closer to your release. “I can’t wait to see for myself but I want you to cum first, can you do that?”

You nodded shakily, your mouth opening as all of the sensations of their touches grew to be too much. Cassian’s tongue snaking into your hole and Azriel’s teeth tugging your nipple was what pushed you over the edge, babbling out incoherently as your orgasm hit you like a shooting star.

Rhysand talked you through it, his cock throbbing steadily as he watched you coat Cassian’s face in your cum. Azriel removed himself from your breasts and started to take off his clothes, his brothers following suit until you were all naked and horny.

All of their cocks were of various sizes and girths but you wanted to taste and fuck them all, your body moving on its own as you crawled towards Azriel and started to fist his cock. You were on all fours, ass out, and you didn’t even flinch when you felt one of them slap their cock against your cunt.

When Cassian appeared beside you, you realized who was behind you, turning to look as the High Lord of the Night Court eased himself into you. It was a stretch but you didn’t feel any pain, a high-pitched whine escaping your throat as he wasted no time in grabbing your hips and picking up speed.

“Angel,” Azriel called, his shadows curling around your face to turn you to look back at him and Cassian. “Don’t forget about us.”

Your hand resumed its pace while you turned to Cassian and gazed up at him innocently, opening your mouth wide enough so he could guide his dick into your mouth so you wouldn’t lose your balance. Both Illyrians growled above you, Cassian using your hair as leverage while Azriel thrusts his hips in time with your hand.

“That’s it, darling, that’s it.” Rhysand praised behind you, enjoying how tight you were squeezing him and also how much you were into this. He wishes he could freeze this moment forever. You looked so beautiful, taking them all like this, and he knew his brothers felt the same.

“Mmmmm, fucsks!” You garbled around Cassian, drool trailing down your chin as Rhys abused your hole like he owned it. You switched your positions so that Azriel was now in your mouth, taking him all the way down which had him shouting your name while you let Cass fuck your hand.

The room smelled like sex and sweat, an intoxicating combination as Rhysand felt his own orgasm swell in his balls. Your body sensed it as well, catching up easily as your walls fluttered around him. Azriel’s thrusts were starting to get sloppy as well and before you knew it, they were both filling you up with their cum.

Both of your holes couldn’t handle the amount of seed and when they pulled away, it leaked out of the corners of your mouth and cunt. Rhysand used two fingers to catch what had fallen and stuff it back inside, smirking at how you sucked his fingers back in.

Cassian’s release was right there and you turned to face him, opening wide as he moaned your name and coated your face and chin with his finish. It was hot and sticky but you loved it, swishing around the mixture of him and Azriel before swallowing it.

Two strong, scarred hands lifted you up and brought you to his height, kissing you and tasting himself and Cassian on your tongue. The fire that was once burning uncontrollably was now dying down but you still needed more. You wanted them all.

“I need more.” You panted, turning to look at them pitifully. “Please, I need more of you all. To be stuffed full.”

They chuckled at how desperate you sounded, as if they would deny you of that. Cassian snatched you from Az’s arms and laid himself back onto the bed, getting comfy as you reached down to line him up to your cunt. He was longer than Rhys, hitting that button inside of you immediately. You grunted when he bottomed out inside of you, enjoying as his hands came up to grope your tits as you started to ride him.

“So perfect,” Azriel said, coming up behind you and kissing down your neck as you felt one of his fingers prod against your asshole. It felt foreign but you didn’t care, arching your back to give him easier access. “You think you can take both of us, Y/N?”

Rhysand came up to your side and tilted your face to look at him, brushing the hair out of your eyes while taking in your cum-stained beauty. “Of course she can, Azriel. She’s a good girl.” The words sent a chill down your spine and he smirked, bending down to kiss you gently at the same time Azriel pushed into your ass.

A loud whimper came from your chest at the feeling, nails digging into Rhys’s skin so deeply that blood pooled at the sight. He could care less though, pulling away so he could wrap a hand around your throat to watch you lose yourself in their presence.

After a moment you motioned for Cassian and Azriel to move, eyebrows knitting together at just how good they felt being in you at the same time. It was your wildest fantasy and judging from the sounds of everyone else, it was theirs as well.

“Oh my gods…” You moaned, your face still turned to Rhys’s. He stuck a thumb in your open mouth and you immediately wrapped your lips around it and began to suck it.

Meanwhile, Cassian and Azriel looked like they were in heaven. The former had his eyes screwed shut as you bounced on his cock like you were made for him while the latter was biting and kissing any bare skin he could get to. The sound of everyone’s skin slapping against something had your ears ringing and despite your best effort to hold off, your body wanted to cum again.

You looked down and saw Rhysand’s cock standing tall but lonely, trying to reach for it but he tightened his grip on your throat and shook his head. “I enjoy watching as much as I enjoy partaking, Y/N Darling.” He cooed, pushing his thumb farther back until you gagged. “Just enjoy what my brothers are giving you.”

A nod was your only response as he let you go, Azriel taking full advantage and pulling your face towards him for a searing kiss. Rhys started to stroke his own cock as Cassian started to get close to another release, smacking your ass roughly.

“M’gonna fill you up, sweetheart, fuck.” He panted, watching you tongue fuck Azriel’s face which only spurred him closer to the edge. “Cauldron help me. You’re going to be the death of me Y/N.”

His cock throbbed inside of you and when you left Azriel to kiss him, he lost in. Cassian’s mouth was dominating as he thrust sharply into you, groaning into your mouth as he emptied his balls into you. Azriel was right behind, grasping your hips and moaning loudly.

The feeling of both of them stuffing you full had you finishing with them, your body slumping forward and onto Cassian’s chest as you barely had any energy to even cry out. It felt like the first wave of your heat was finally done, your body exhausted, as they both pulled out of you.

Before you could fully fall asleep, you realized Rhys hadn’t came and when you turned to him, he smiled sweetly and kissed your forehead. “Go to sleep, Y/N. We can continue this when you wake up.”

Your body immediately listened to him, eyes shutting as you fell asleep quickly on Cassian’s chest. They all looked at each other, everyone tired and fucked out, before Azriel said, “When she wakes up?”

“Oh yes, heats like these come in waves,” Rhys explained, heading towards the bathroom to grab some towels for everyone. When he returned, he threw them at his brothers with a smile, looking at you sleeping peacefully and saying, “We’re definitely doing this again.”

“Can’t wait.” Cassian grinned, kissing your temple. Azriel nodded in agreement and joined the two of you in bed. It was going to be one hell of a week.

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charliedawn · 1 year

Note

Hi! I liked your fic with Ultron, I was glad to know that you are writing for him. If everything is fine, may I request a continuation of "How would they react if you were to marry someone else?", but with Ultron?

I decided to add Venom, Otto and Norman because...I love villains. 😂

"So...You chose him ?", Ultron asked before giving a disdainful glance at your partner.

He was unworthy of you. A fleshing. A nothing. You had been created for him. And yet, you had chosen an Earthling as your spouse. How shameful...And how wrong of you.

"You will come to regret your decision...", he warned you—but you shrugged.

"You never even tried to love me. He does."

He restrained a mocking laugh at your claim before his red eyes stared at you and you gritted your teeth at his mocking expression.

"And you do ?"

A shiver ran down your spine and you tried to appear confident as you took a step forward, red eyes meeting red eyes.

"I will marry him. And there's nothing you can do to stop me.", you told him with a serious expression. But, Ultron wasn't convinced. He huffed a laugh before taking another step forward, so you had to crane your neck up to even see his expression.

"Don't. Test me.", he said in a low and threatening voice and you knew he would kill everyone in the room if you kept pushing. You hadn't even invited him. He had decided to stride in and ruin everything—like always. He had made so much ruckus that you hadn't even succeeded in uttering the two important words to seal the marriage.

You wanted to escape fate. But, Ultron wasn't going to let you go so easily. You knew that. And yet...You wanted to try. You turned back towards the priest and opened your mouth.

"I..." Before you could even say I Do, he had covered your mouth to muffle any other sound you might be willing to make. He then took your soon-to-be husband by the throat and grinned at the terror in your eyes.

"The only one who you will ever be able to say 'I do' to, will be me...Understood ?"

Your eyes watered and you nodded begrudgingly. You had no choice. Maybe Ultron had been relieved of any ounce of humanity he ever had, but you hadn't. He smirked and released your husband's windpipe, only to use a metallic claw to pin the priest to his altar.

"Now...I want us to make it official. Come on, darling...", he leaned forward and chuckled darkly in your ear. "~Say yes."

"EDDIE ! Y/N IS GETTING MARRIED !"

Eddie ignored Venom. He didn't have the energy to talk right now. He just wanted to go and crawl to die in a hole. He wanted to drown his sorrow in chocolate sirup and burgers. But, Venom wouldn't let him.

Venom appeared into view and threw the bag of nachos he had in hand to the floor.

"EDDIE !"

Eddie finally raised his eyes to look at the gooey creature before him with an emotionless expression, and even Venom was surprised by the lack of reaction of his vessel.

"What ?", he asked with an unreadable expression and Venom knew at that moment that Eddie was in no playing mood.

"...Are you...Are you really going to let it happen ?", the entity asked with a little hesitancy before staring at his human vessel with something akin to worry.

Venom had never sounded or looked so small...His head peaked from underneath his coat and Eddie's jaw twitched. It seemed that even Venom could feel the storm brewing within him. He had never felt Eddie so upset, and it worried him.

You used to always be there to keep his emotions in check, but Eddie had pushed you away by hiding his feelings from you.

And now ? He had no idea what to do. One side of him was telling him to leave you alone. The other was screaming to be let out and stop what was about to happen before it was too late.

"What are we going to do, Eddie ?", Venom insisted and for the first time, it was Eddie who summoned him—covering his body and leaning into his strength as he all but growled out.

"Bring back our happiness..."

Eddie then jumped out the window and ran with the invitation he had received that very morning in his hand. He wouldn't pass out on another opportunity to be happy. Not this time.

"...Y/N ?"

You looked at the aisle and was surprised to find your ex-husband standing there—shocked. You stared at each other for a few seconds before you had the strength to utter the name you had spent years trying to forget.

"...Norman ?", you replied—dumbfounded.

He had died 5 years ago...What was he doing here ? He looked at you and one of his old coworkers who was now holding your hand before an upset frown appeared on his face.

"You...You're marrying him ?"

"It's been five years, Norman...Five years of lonely nights. Five years of emptiness. Five years of nothing but coldness.", you tried to explain and let go of your soon-to-be husband.

Norman's eyes softened a bit as he took a step forward, but realized then that you weren't alone and everyone in the church was shocked to see him there. He had heard of the ceremony as he was walking by and thought that seeing him would change your mind. But, no. He now realized he was the one who had abandoned you. He was the one who had left you and there was things he couldn't take back.

He smiled and nodded before taking a seat and gesturing for the priest to go on.

"I won't say anything more. Proceed."

Norman stared fixedly at you and knew...He knew you still loved him by the way your fingers tightened around the bouquet in your hands and how your eyes watered underneath the veil. It was his sadistic side that made him wait, made him challenge you by his sole presence.

'Come on, Y/N. You can fool yourself. But, not me.', he thought before counting the seconds until the bouquet of flowers fell to the floor and you embraced him.

It was weakness. You knew as such. But, you couldn't stay away from Norman.

"Do you have anything to say ?", you asked after Otto entered your bedroom the night before your wedding. You looked mindlessly at the city beneath you and did your best not to look at him.

"No. I understand.", he said while shaking his head and you sighed.

"Wrong answer, Otto."

Your eyes were watery and you wondered if Otto had ever not been selfish in his life ? He had went on his silly revenge quest, leaving you behind as if it meant nothing. You were supposed to marry. And he had the audacity to show up the night before and try to tell you that he supported your decision ? He shouldn't have to. He should have been here when you needed him.

Five years.

Five years of waiting, only for him to return and dare pretend to know what it felt like.

You gritted your teeth and threw the nearest glass at his face, a glass he easily caught and set aside with a sorrowful expression.

"YOU LEFT ME, COWARD !"

He didn't even flinch as you started punching his chest and screaming. He was gone. You had mourned him. All that for nothing...You finally rested your forehead against his chest and whimpered.

"I love you...And you left me."

Otto's arms wrapped around you as a shushed you softly.

"I know. I know...But, I promise. It won't happen again."

You let out a shaky breath and shook your head. The man you loved had come back, but at what price ? He wanted you to trust him. But, was it really worth it ?

You looked up and couldn't help but smile up at Otto and he smiled back before leaning forward to kiss you softly. And you let him.

Because no matter how much you wanted to hate him, your heart still belonged to him...

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #ultron x reader #norman osborn x reader #otto x you #dr otto octavius #venom x reader #eddie brock x reader #marvel

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alexsoenomel · 1 year

Text

Being able to read minds and living with the Winchesters would include:

knowing what the boys want to eat for breakfast before they open their mouths in the morning

Sam insulting Dean in his mind when he’s pissed off making you laugh

“He is such a dick sometimes!”

“Big brother, always right....my ass.”

“God I wanna kill him.”

“I mean I don’t BUT STILL...”

Dean avoiding you whenever you are alone for whatever reason

“Hey Dean I nee-”

“Not now (Y/N) I have to call Sam!”

“Where is he?”

“He went to get laid and the girl won’t let him go!”

being pissed because he’s clearly avoiding you and lying

you not knowing he has a crush on you

him not knowing you like him too

going on hunts together

always knowing what the plan is before Dean even saying anything

“I hate when you do that.”

“Sorry”

knowing your enemies' next move and always being one step ahead

not being able to control it so sometimes you end up with too much information

“Sam stop with the dirty thoughts and just go talk to the waitress.”

Sam being embarrassed

“Gross, Sammy.” Dean being repulsed.

“F-fine.”

once he leaves you were left with drunk Dean and his racing thoughts

Dean being nervous because he doesn’t want you to find out about his silly little crush

“Sammy’s gonna get laid tonight.”

“It has been a while for me.”

“Crap! It HAS been a while.”

“No, I can’t.”

“I cannot even enjoy sex anymore ever since I met her.”

“She will be the death of me.”

“She is so fucking hot.”

“Smart.”

“Beautiful.”

“Great ass.”

“God damn it (Y/N)!” His mind slipped under the influence of alcohol

“Deaaaan?”

“Oh crap she heard me!”

Dean giving you an awkward smile and blushing

“Can I crawl in a hole and die?”

“NO YOU CANNOT SHITFACE!”

“I mean now you know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because...”

“Because what??”

“Because we live together and work together I didn’t wanna mess it up.”

“Mess up what?”

“I didn’t want to make things awkward.”

“You are so fucking stupid sometimes.”

Pulling him by his flannel and kissing him hard earing a moan from him

Him kissing you back

“My God!”

“She feels the same?”

“Yes dumbass I feel the same!”

Him smirking at your comment

“Awesome!”

“Is this why you avoided me for all this time?”

“Pretty much yeah.”

“Wanna go back to the motel?”

“Only if you kiss me first.”

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springseasonie · 9 months

Text

Auralism Pt. 2 | PJS (M)

Voice actor Jisung x fem reader

Part 1. Part 3.

Summary: just another night of your nightly routine except you've become a little more delusional than before.

Warnings: sexual content, auralism (voice kink), masturbation, guided masturbation, praising, degrading, parasocalism (it's bad for you)

Word count: 1,2k

A/N: I'm very glad all of you liked the first one so much. I had no idea people liked the thought of erotic voice actor Jisung as much as I did but I'm glad y'all all also see the vison lmao. Feed back is loved an appreciated 🩷🩷

"Hi baby."

"Jesus," you sighed breathlessly. Another night, you're laying in your bed on your back staring up at your ceiling. It's almost embarrassing how much you keep coming back to this specific audio. It's the first one you ever heard, but nothing will ever compare to it. "Stress relief" is what it's called, and it's exactly that. You only listen to it on your toughest days, and you're bound to have some tough days working a minimum wage job.

"For this audio, please calm your body down. Take a deep breath, okay? Close your eyes and feel the space around you."

You did just that, closing your eyes and sinking into your bed as you calmed your body down. At that moment you started to feel all the aches and pains from your day settle in.

"Try to forget about your day and just be present with me. I'm the only thing in your mind right now. I'm the only person you can hear. Focus on what I'm saying to you. You're gonna be a good girl and follow my directions like always aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna be a good girl," you mumbled quietly to yourself. You'd crawl in a hole and die if anyone had to bear witness to this exact moment. You're in a room by yourself responding to a man who's only making audio porn to pay his bills. But it's not your fault no one can live up to the expectations of his voice alone.

"Today, I just want you to relax. I want you to pull your clothes off for me. You can pause while you do so, I'll wait for you."

You paused it, taking everything off your body till you were on your bed completely bare. You quickly started it up, sighing when hearing his voice again.

"Now I need your undivided attention okay? Rile yourself for me. Run your hands all over your pretty body. Press your fingertips into your skin and feel yourself. Run your hands over your nipples. Pinch, squeeze them. Aren't they sensitive?"

That they were indeed. And so was your cunt. If there was a thing you needed to fuck more than right now it would be him despite not knowing what he looked like. You need that voice in your ear telling you that you touched him so well, that you made him feel good. It was going to drive you insane for the rest of your life probably. You pinched your nipples, hissing at the sting on the sensitive peaks. You did this every single time, listening to every word he said and it never got old.

"Move your hand to your mouth. Suck on those fingers for me. Yeah, just like that. You look so good, beautiful."

You put your fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue over the digits coating them in your saliva. You were so turned on at the point you would probably burst.

"Take your fingers and put them between your legs. Rub your clit for me. Get it nice and wet. I bet that feels real good. Don't you wish it was me touching you? I bet you do."

You rubbed your clit slowly in a circular motion, deep breaths slowly quickening. Your legs spread wider as your other hand squeezed your breast, the ecstatic feeling spreading all over your body.

"Keep touching yourself for me. You're such a good girl you know that? Pretty, beautiful, good girl."

You kept going, soft moans now falling from your lips. All that was in your head was him, his voice. What else were you supposed to think about? Your brain had gone numb the moment you heard him say baby.

"Now I want you to finger yourself for me. I want you to stuff that pretty pussy with your fingers."

You did as he said, eyes rolling back at the stretch You've been aching to feel all day. It's been fucking with you all day, wanting to hear his voice even just for a second. You were addicted.

"Does my voice turn you on?" He chuckled softly, making your brain turn to mush like always. "Does my voice make your pretty pussy wet?"

"Yes, yes it does," you sighed as you fingered yourself. The sounds coming from your body were shameful. Panting and whimpering filled the room, your body getting hotter and hotter as your sheets stuck to your legs.

"Keep going. God, I wish I could see you right now. All cute and wet for me, legs spread wide. You're such a little slut for touching yourself to my voice, you know that? My little slut."

You nodded, a small smile tugging on your lips as his deep sultry voice landed on your ears. You wish you weren't so crazy and delusional but when he talks to you like that you turn to mush all over again. Your fingers grew in pace, palm of your hand also stimulating your swollen clit.

"You wanna cum pretty girl?"

"Yes, yes I do." You were whining, the sounds growing in pitch and volume the more you moved your hand. "F-fuck, oh my god.."

"You can cum. Cum as hard as you want, but don't you dare stop."

You kept going, fingering yourself harder and harder. The moment you curled your fingers inside of you, you came hard, vision turning blurry and mind going fuzzy. You were already so sensitive, but you were a good girl so you didn't stop. You wouldn't dare stop.

"I want you to cum for me again. I love it when you cum for me. I wish I could see it. I wish I could feel it. Feel that tight pussy around my cock squeezing me tight. I know you want that too. I know you want my big cock to stretch you good."

Your moans bounced off the walls, back arching off the bed as you kept thrusting your fingers. It was too much, but it felt so good. Too good. Your cunt was squeezing your fingers once again, wet squelches coming from between your legs.

"If I had you, I'd fuck you so good you wouldn't remember your name. You'd love that wouldn't you?"

"Yes, fuck yes.." You were gasping for air, eyebrows scrunched together right as you stared down at your hand, watching your fingers go in and out of you.

"But for now, I just need you to cum in your perfect, soft hands. Make a bigger mess for me. You can do it."

"J-Jisung, shit.." You came, and you said his name. You've never done that before. Maybe you're a little in too deep, but Jesus, there is no one that could make you see stars the way you did just now. There's no one who can make you shake by just talking the way you did just now.

"Do you feel better? Are you still stressed because if you are, I guess I didn't do my job. But when have I ever failed, hm? Now clean yourself up and get some rest for the next day, or the rest of your day. Bye beautiful."

The audio finished, leaving you heaving on top of your covers. Usually, you would just get up and clean up, but you felt different now. You moaned his name out loud like a crazy person. You were definitely in a little too deep. Maybe you needed to take a break from your nightly routine.

Just as you were about to close the app on your phone another notification popped up.

"surprise :)"

And just like that your night got a whole lot more interesting.

#nct #nct u #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct x reader #nct oneshot #nct scenarios #nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct dream smut #nct jisung #park jisung #jisung imagines #jisung oneshot #jisung smut #jisung fic #jisung fanfic #jisung scenarios

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plutoswritingplanet · 2 years

Text

White Rabbit pt.2 (Peter Ballard x Female!Reader)

PART 1

a/n: first of all, i am so fucking sorry it took so long. life kept kicking me over the head, like i was a damn football. but, i’m here now. Started writing it....had a breakdown... bon appetit

Warnings: NON-CON, a lot of threatening, Possessive Behavior, Explicit Sexual Content (oh, you know guys, the usual)

Summary: As you keep getting stalked by the visions sent by Vecna, one moment of peace gets cruelly interrupted.

One pill makes you larger.

There is no way in hell you'll be able to listen to this song again, after this whole ordeal is over. It's already becoming quite annoying, your brain seeking other means of stimulation every time you are forced to rewind the tape. It was your favorite song, of course, but you had so many different ones. You missed Jimi Hendrix, you were not going to lie.

The base continues to repetitively resound throughout your brain, mixing with the ever-present ticking of a grandfather's clock. Sometimes, you can almost make out the familiar shape, the white face with beautiful, ornate numbers. It emerges between the paneling of Max's camper, resurfaces from the drying patches of grass, when you look out the window. Every single sighting, a reminder of your shameful encounter from days before.

Arguably, Max went through her curse in a much more agreeable state than you. The little ginger kept her headphones on dutifully, giving you an annoyed glance, when you took a bit too long to put on yours. Guilt squeezed the insides of your stomach in vice-like grip, whenever she looked at you with this unreadable expression of hers. Like she could read your scrunched eyebrows, deduce the whole story from the way you bit your lip whenever the monster's name was mentioned. She knew something was wrong, of that you were certain. And despite all that, despite the shame consuming your insides, you still wanted nothing more, than to hold the child's hand, to tell her everything was going to turn out fine. Even if you didn't believe a word from that sentiment.

There was a plan forming. A very half-assed plan, that had nearly as many holes, as Swiss cheese. But it was the best you lot had, and after hearing Nancy's prophetic visions, you knew, there was little time for thinking. When you first heard that Vecna, One, Henry, whatever his name was, had imprisoned Nancy in the Upside Down, had shown her nightmares beyond comprehension, your blood ran cold. What did she see, what did he show her? Did she know about your little altercation in her bathroom? Hopefully not. You couldn't stand the thought of your friend knowing about your momentary lapse of strong will.

- He only has one kill left - Dustin says gravely, his hand squeezing your wrist.

You can't look at him. Can't stand seeing your brother worry so much, especially since you are supposed to be the one looking after him. Perhaps Vecna was right, perhaps you really did fail him. You shudder under the oppressing thought, squeezing your eyes shut, so no one can see your pained expression. Despite all that, the feeling of his eyes burning holes into your face makes you twist your palm. You give his smaller hand a hard squeeze, one, that hopefully conveyed just how much he doesn't have to worry about you. Even if you can always hear the sound of the clock just below the music. Even if Vecna keeps sending you visions of spiders crawling over your friends shoulders, little reminders, that after all, you are completely and utterly alone.

Your eyes drift towards Max. She stands straight as an arrow, staring with unseeing eyes, a deep scowl on her face. Your heart nearly wrenches itself out of your chest. This poor fucking kid.

You'd never tell this to Dustin, or anyone else, to be frank. But when Vecna inevitably attacks again, you wish he'd go after you. Max doesn't deserve this, any of this, and despite knowing that you're not ready to die, you'd give yourself over in the blink of an eye, to save her. To save any of the kids. You've watched them grow, alongside your brother, and you'd be damned if you didn't consider every single one of them family.

You've taught Dustin how to ride a bike, your daily lessons quickly gaining an audience of his three friends. Not only that, but you made them sandwiches, when they started hanging out for hours on end, becoming the cool sister. One, that smuggled them sweets and soda, when their parents worried about potential rotten teeth.

Which is why you raise your hand immediately, when the subject of a trap entered the room. You needed to keep Vecna occupied, keep him in one place while others got to his lair. So, the most logical answer would be, to give yourself over. Serving yourself on a silver platter, and praying it gives everyone enough time.

Max leaves the camper, the moment the decision is made. She can't look at you. To be quite honest, not one person from the group can hold your gaze. The pity painted on their faces is making you squirm. It's a small price to pay for stopping the end of the world, and there were quite a few ideas already brewing in your mind.

You wonder how much you can really push your luck.

He did say, he wanted to keep you, savor the guilt or whatever the fuck he enjoys tasting these days. You'd be lying, if the prospect of using this newfound connection to the monster didn't fill you with a sense of anticipation. The memory of his tormenting touches both painful and arousing. What do the people call it? The Call of The Void? You've read about it sometime ago, during one of your weekly raids conducted on the local library. It is a phrase used to describe an unexplainable impulse to hurl yourself into the void, be it height, or, in your case, the life-ending embrace of a monster.

The hot summer air hits your face, as you exit Max's camper. The whole team wearing determined expressions on their faces, the plan slowly rolling into action. You fell behind the group, lost in thought, a deep scowl painting your features as you mulled over all the possible outcomes. None of them were without gigantic risks, and you dreaded for the safety of your friends. Max had explained to you her idea, how to keep Vecna at bay, how to hide from him inside your own mind. Since then, you kept mulling over any happy memories you could find. Prom night, your sixteenth birthday, the day the group first introduced you to Eleven. Images flash behind your eyes, as White Rabbit slowly comes to an end. The grass under your feet is starting to become yellow from the unreleting sun.

That's when a gentle hand on your wrist catches your attention, snapping you back to reality from the confines of your daydreaming. Gentle, brown eyes peer at you from under a cheap rendition of a Michael Myers mask. One of his slender hands drags the rubber up, so the man can look at you properly. Curse him and his dimples, you think, as Eddie Munson smiles at you. There's worry painted across his face, as his eyes swipe all over you, taking in your expression like this is the first time you've seen each other.

- Hey - he says in a hushed whisper, and you can't help but smile at his casual tone.

You can feel his rings drag the material of your shirt, when he rubs his hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. Never, not once in all the years you knew about, or heard about Eddie Munson, did you notice the way his eyes reflected rays of sunshine. It is truly a shame your brother didn't bother to introduce you before all hell broke loose. At the same time, maybe it was for the better. Your mother would surely develop a heart disease from all the stress, after seeing her children hang around a man such as Eddie. Light catches on one of his rings, and you are cruelly reminded, that time does not, in fact, stay still, no matter how much you wish it to.

- Hey - you answer, cheeks already forming a blush, to your inner despair.

- You okay? You look kind of... not...here - his hands move, when he speaks, even when he tries to be subtle.

To that, you smile, a shaky one, but a smile nonetheless. A chuckle escapes you, one, that startles you in its sincerity. Eddie smiles as well, cheeks coming up to frame his beautiful, dark eyes.

- Yeah, well, being the bait will do that to you - you attempt to joke, even if the words leave a bitter taste on your tongue.

You can clearly see a shadow of concern flash across his face, as his hand squeezes your shoulder a bit tighter. He's one of those people, who wear their emotions clear as day. There's no guessing about what he's feeling, and you appreciate that. From all the new and terrifying things barging into your life, Eddie proves to be the least confusing.

- I wish I could tell you everything will be alright - he sighs, eyes leaving your face in favor of dancing across the space between the two of you.

- You don't have to, really - you assure him, one hand coming up to rest atop his, giving his slender fingers a soft squeeze, hopefully conveying everything your words cannot.

His face stretches out in a smile, eyes sparkling with that gentle expression you've come to anticipate. And then, you blink.

And when you open your eyes, there's no Eddie.

Instead of his familiar frame, your eyes fall onto a stained-glass rose, floating into the red sky, right in front of your face. You scream, stumble back, until your foot catches onto some sort of root, and you fall backwards. Your body collides with the wet surface underneath, something rotten immediately seeping into the fabric of your clothes, red substance splashing across your shoes. The sight wrenches a gag from your throat. The air is thick and unpleasant, residue clings to your skin, invading your eyes and nose. You cough into a balled fist, and shudder at the unpleasant, tearing feeling in your larynx. Then, just as you're about to take a shaky breath, something wraps itself around your throat.

Before you can even think of screaming, your oxygen gets cut off, and you are forcibly yanked up, to your feet. As much as you struggle and wail, you cannot contort your head back enough, to see, what is holding you captive. It feels raw and fleshy on your skin, and if you focus hard enough, you can almost distinguish four, sharp fingers along with a thumb, squeezing down. Your legs kick out, as you begin to feel lightheaded, and just as the corners of your vision begin to fade to black, the hold loosens. The gasping breath you take feels like razors going down your throat. You take it anyway, despite the pain, tears springing in your eyes.

- So troublesome - you hear a terrifyingly familiar voice, words muttered into the crown of your head, lips moving in your hair.

Fear, like living ice, climbs up your entire body, when the realization as to where exactly you ended up in, falls on you like an avalanche. There's various debris flying around you. Pieces of wooden structures, gigantic, warped remains of cement, smaller rubble falling from the sky. Pieces of a home, you realize, as you begin to recognize wooden columns, a set of ornate stairs, windows. Out in the red space, a familiar grandfather's clock begins to spin, slowly, like it has all the time in the world.

- Let me go - you mutter, brain beginning to slow down, some sort of confounding fog coming over your senses, one, which you refuse to associate with desire.

There's a chuckle, clawed fingers flex around your neck, sharp nails retracting. Soon, there's no memory of a monster holding you captive, and if you look down, you can see a blurred image of a familiar white shirt. He's back to playing pretend, or so it seemed. You'd be lying, if you said you weren't grateful for that small change. It helped to keep your mind from breaking, well, from breaking completely. You want to scream, to tear your body away from this creature, which has caused nothing except blood and suffering. But as you boil on the inside, there's a pressure at your back. A warmth of a body being pressed against yours.

Another hand finds its purchase around your waist, fingers dragging across your shirt, toying with the hem, but never quite catching your skin.

- You know - he starts in a light voice, goosebumps erupting all across your skin from the feeling of his breath fanning over the back of your neck - I never liked sharing.

There's an edge to his deep rumble, one, that makes you open your eyes and hold your body taunt as a string. But he's breathing. My God, he really is breathing. Which means, either he learned how to pretend to be human, even more convincingly... Or he was real, tangible, not some figment of your corrupted mind.

- My mother, my stupid, pathetic mother, used to make me share all my toys with my sister. All my childhood I've never had anything, that was truly mine.

At the word "mine" his head dips down behind you, nose burying deep into the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. You shudder yet again, as he takes a long whiff of air, before letting out a nearly sinful groan. It shakes the very bones inside of you, and your body immediately reacts, a familiar pressure of arousal seizing your lower stomach.

- Which is why - he continues after composing himself, voice still slightly rough - I do not enjoy my things being taken away from me, even for a second.

There's a pregnant pause between the two of you, and you realize, he's waiting for you to say something.

Your brain scrambles for any response to this vague sentiment he has presented you with. Taken away? You weren't taken away in any way, shape or form. He let you go, quite literally. So, you stand, eyes still searching for any means of escape, as you feel him move against your back, like a restless snake. His head comes to rest upon your shoulder, and you know he's looking at your face. His eyes bear into you, drilling holes into your cheek, as if he's trying to see your teeth through your skin. He probably can. This is his domain after all.

- I don't know what you're talking about - you seethe through your teeth, testing your strength against his grip.

Another chuckle, but this one sounds too cold, too humorless, and with a gasp, you feel his hand leave your throat, fingers immediately digging into your hair and grabbing a handful. Then, he spins you around, like a ragdoll, until you are forced to look him in the eye. The beautiful, blue eyes, ones, which holds a cruel glint of sinister pleasure at the sight of your contorted face.

- Do you think I'm stupid? - he asks, all gentleness leaving his voice, and for a split second, you can see his image flicker, giving you a glimpse of the monster he truly was.

The gasp you let out is drowned by a wet, disgusting sound, as his hands throw you back, causing you to land on your backside. The floor welcomes you just like it did moments before, with this weird, unnatural substance coating your clothes, your skin, your hair. Before you can even think of finding your bearings, the man bends down. His movements elegant and effortless, as he climbs over your body. One hand on your knee pushes your legs apart, until he can sit between them comfortably.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, when he drags his eyes through the length of your body, before captivating you in that cold gaze of his. There's no escape from his eyes, and the pure evil lurking within. Evil, and something else. Something, he can read from your own face as easily, as one would read the alphabet.

- Please - you breath out, although you're not sure what you're begging for.

His delicate lips stretch out into a knowing smile. But there's no kindness in his expression, and before you can register this familiar, sinister glint in his baby-blue eyes, his hand grips your throat yet again. This time, his muscles twitch, and you gasp, as your head gets pushed to the ground. Liquid seeps into your hair, dyeing it the color of rust. The force of the impact shakes the very brain inside of your skull, and as specs of white dance around your vision, you try your best to focus on his features.

He leans in, keeping his gaze fixed on your disoriented face, until you can feel the illusion of a breath tickle your temple. Then, you fight to surpress a moan, when he drags his teeth over your earlobe.

- I told you, I will destroy all your friends, everyone you love - he whispers cruel words in the most tender of tones.

Your blood runs cold, and he pins you to the ground, as your body tenses up.

- And, because you force my hand, I will make sure Edward Munson suffers the most.

Panic, bloodcurdling and sudden like a shockwave, ripples through your entire body. Suddenly, you realize why you're here. Because you smiled at him, because you entertained the notion of exploring further relationship... Because you knew you were chosen by the monster, and you still wanted the hero.

- No - your voice is weak, and so is your body, as you start to struggle under his lithe form.

- Oh yes - the monster leans back, to look at your face, a beautiful, radiant smile painting his features - Yes, because it will hurt you. Yes, because I want to see your heartbreak. I want you to understand, without a doubt, that there is only one person in all of the universe you belong to.

Tears start to pool at the corners of your eyes, pain and regret twisting your features. Eddie's face worms itself into your mind, beautiful, brown eyes hollowed and bloody, jaw unnaturally bent.

- And that person - Vecna's image shifts, as rage shakes his stature atop yours - Is me.

Nothing could prepare you for the kiss he has wrenched out of you. His lips soft and unrelenting, as they descended upon yours, like a thunder from the sky. Teeth clink against yours, when he demands access to your mouth, one, you're determined to withhold. That's when his free hand grips your jaw in a vice grip, fingers pressing into your gums, until you are forced to open your mouth. He's quick to fill it, wet tongue immediately searching every crevice it can reach.

Despite it's cruelty, your back arches into the kiss, body writhing underneath him. Your eyes remain tightly screwed shut, as you let the monster take it's fill of you. Hand twists your hair, adding even more pressure at your scalp, and soon you start to worry he'll rip out a chunk of your locks. His other hand is restless as well, traveling the expanse of your stomach, worming itself under the cotton fabric of your shirt.

The feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh of your breast is familiar. Reminiscent of your previous encounter in the bathroom, although much more terrifying.

Because now, you know this isn't just a game you're playing with the monster on your own.You've dragged another, innocent person along with you, straight into the void. Tears preak the corners of your eyes at the mere thought, of what Vecna has in store for your hero.

- Tell me... - his melodic voice brings you back to reality, eyes snapping open, as you gasp for air.

He looks as unaffected as ever, his illusion of a face just a breath away from yours. You marvel at how realistic it looks, at the way you can see the texture of his skin. The way his flawless cheeks now carry a shade of pink so pretty, you almost forget what he is.

- Tell me... - he repeats, softer this time, his palm sliding from under your shirt, in favor of finding one of your hands.

He brings your arm closer to him, leaning away so he can press a kiss right at your wrist. Your eyes flutter at the gesture, and shame mixes with desire in your gut. He has no right, being what he is, and still doing what he does to you.

- Tell me... - a whisper, lips ghosting over the underside of your forearm.

- When he touches you - your body goes rigid, but he doesn't deter, a ghost of a kiss in the hook of your elbow - Do you feel safe from me?

Your eyes lock, blue encasing yours like the deepest parts of the ocean, dragging you down, and down, towards the darkest of hells. You feel so stupid now. Just another idiot girl, thinking she can outrun unstoppable evil. Thinking, she can find a safehaven in some oblivious boy she barely knew.

But there's still some fight left in your bones, and as his head dips below to bite at your shoulder, you strike. Bending your arm at a speed you're quite surprised you possess. Your fingers find purchase against some fleshy vine creation. It twists in your grasp, a living organism of it's own, despite coming out of his body. Without much of a thought, you pull, fast and ruthless, until the vine pops free. Hot, dark liquid covers your hand, sticking to your skin in a disgusting coat.

The reaction is instantaneous.

Vecna snarls, his body flinging itself off of yours, as he grips the side of his neck. The illusion is gone. What once was a beautiful, angelic man, now is an aglamation of vines and leathery skin. You don't wait any longer, scrambling to your feet. Sneakers you've picked up at a garage sale years ago nearly fall off of your feet, as you throw yourself into a sprint. Muscles scream at you, from under your skin. They've never been used quite as intensely as this, and you know full-well, you won't be able to keep this tempo up for long.

There isn't really any place to run, your mind being completely infected by this vision of a red wasteland. Staying here would be a death sentence however, so, you choose an unfamiliar line of trees, somewhere in the distance. Perhaps, you could hide inside the forest. Wait out, until your friends find a way to help you. Because they will find a way. They aways do.

All your hopes are snuffed away in an instant. You make marely a couple of steps towards your supposed freedom, when a hand grabs at the back of your shirt. Stitches tear, as your body is flung in the air, landing with a sickening splatter right at the bottom of the lonesome, wooden stairs. Every bone in your body hurts, adrenaline making your muscles shake so much, you can't support your weight enough, to push yourself up.

Vecna descends upon you, a wicked snarl twisting his monstrous features. Your head starts to pound, images of the monster and the angelic boy flicker, mixing together right in front of your eyes. You don't know, what you're looking at. You don't know, which face you punch with all your might.

Henry Creel falls onto the floor, as your foot kicks out, hitting him right in the stomach. Vecna gathers himself up, and pounces on you again, as you try to crawl up the stairs. Then, it's Henry again, putting his hand around your neck in a gesture so familiar, it doesn't shock you anymore. Vecna glitches through, as you show your teeth, like a wild animal, that fights as hard as it can, before being put into a cage.

- Get the fuck off me - your voice is raw, breathless, as Henry's human form finally stabilizes for good.

Blonde locks fall in front of his eyes, framing his face in a way you've never seen before. There is wildness and rage in his gaze, one, you mirror with a feverish look of your own. Then, time stops, for only a second. Your breaths mix together, lips so close, you can almost feel them biting into your skin. There's anger brewing under your skin, a writhing, ugly feeling, much like his true form. But there is also desire, newly awakened by this short chase.

- Remember this - he whispers into the space between the two of you, and your eyebrows shoot up in confusion - I am going to ruin you completely.

He doesn't kiss you on the lips this time. Instead, his head dives down, immediatelly attacking your neck, teeth scraping that one place, where he can see your pulse run rampant. With a loud moan, you let go, finally giving yourself up. Jumping into the Void with arms wide open, ready to embrace the nothingness. Henry doesn't waste time, his hands drag your shirt upwards, your arms nearly dislocating, as he forcefully tears the fabric from your body. And you let him, your skin growing hungry for his touch with every second.

Then, comes the time for your pants. You slide down two steps, when this monster of a man fights with the damp fabric. Finally, he frees your legs, throwing the offending piece of garment somewhere into the red void.

The wooden steps dig painfully into your legs and your back. Your head bumps into the edge of the railing, and you pray your injuries don't transfer to the real world. If you ever make it out of here. Henry's body writhes between your open legs, as he unbuttons his white pants. Somehow, his attire remains unaffected by the grime of the surroundings. Your brain is too focused on him, on his fingers tearing into your flesh, to remember, that his current form is an illusion.

It certainly doesn't feel like an illusion, when he yanks your underwear to the side, and enters you in a swift movement of his hips. Your back arches from the steps, legs flailing, as you struggle to accommodate his size. While your first encounter in Nancy Wheeler's bathroom was all about teasing you, this feels more urgent, like there's truly some grand shadow of a time running out, hanging over you both.

Nails dig into the wood of the stairs, scraping the laquered coating. You don't know what to do with your hands, with any of your limbs for the matter. Because no matter where you put them, Henry immediately pistons into your with such force, your body shakes. And, what is perhaps the most terrifying thought of all, it feels good.

The way he pounds into you with reckless abandon, the way his hand comes up to grip your hair. His other hand holds tightly onto the wooden railing, muscles working overtime under the white fabric of his shirt. His head burries itself into the crook of your neck, where he pants, groans and whimpers, every sound sending delicious shivers all across your insides. This is you, this is all your doing. Your head falls back at the realization.

The pressure building at a fast pace in your lower stomach makes you buck your hips up, to meet Henry halfway, to take him in deeper.

- Tell me, who do you belong to? - he seethes into your ear, twisting your hair. - Say it's me, only me, who can make you feel this way.

You hate him so much, it shakes you to your very core. But, his thrusts slow down just enough, to make you whine at the loss of stimulation. You were so close, climbing towards your release with each bruising move of his hips.

- Say you're mine - he grits out, looking at you with those baby-blue eyes of his, so cruel and animalistic.

It's just words, after all. Just words, and you were so close.

- I'm yours - you don't recognize your voice, it sounds so far away - I'm your and it's only you, who can make me feel this way.

He seems satisfied, capturing your lips in a biting kiss.

One move is all it takes, a single, brutal thrust of his hips, and you're unraveling. Muscles spasm all at once, and the sound that wrenches itself out of your raw throat can only be described as a howl of a wild animal. He finishes not far behind, his hips stuttering, before finally, he lets out a strangled groan. His arm gives out, falling from the railing to the floor, and the weight of his body feels surprisingly grounding, as you try not to pass out from all the feelings overtaking you.

- Damn you - he whispers, hand grazing your cheek in a manner that could be considered romantic.

"No, damn you" you want to say, but can't find the strength to.

And as you both lay there, squeezed into the corner of the wooden steps, you blink again.

And when your eyes open, all you can see, are beautiful, brown eyes, looking at you with such concern and kindness, your heart breaks.

- Guys, she woke up! - Eddie screams, not once looking away from your face. - You completely lost conciousness back there. Gone! Poof!

His hands are warm on your shoulders, so gentle, so caring. And in that moment, as you look at him with pained expression, painted with guilt and fear of what will befall him, all you can do is break down and start crying.

...

Taglist

@justtryingtobecreative @shellbeerocks @potato-dragons @sad-innit @lhsthinkr @z4hr4inhere @m1ndbrand @guyinachair27 @7minutes-tomidnight @rand0m--fangirl @universallycloudkid @fate-huntress @queenofthehellfireclub @ulilililiu @sam28637 @thedoubleexposurephotography @hercherrysong @cc13723things @queenofshinigamis @lokistyxx @darkened-writer @alexiaryder @lauftivy @axxochiisstuff @gayqueen420 @angelicadiabolus @julietsecretdiary @miliewayne @4ud13nc3

#peter ballard x reader #henry creel x reader #my writing #stranger things #vecna x reader #001 x reader #peter ballard #henry creel #tw:dark fic

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loukaiitis · 5 months

Text

Notes and Journal Entries by Kip Kinkel

A compilation of writings by Kip Kinkel. This is for informational and educational purposes only. Post is below the cut.

Disclaimer: the majority of his writing pieces (that have been released to the public) are only available in a typed transcript format, provided by PBS. Because of this, I am only able to include a few images of the original writing. This post will be updated if any new images come out!

Journal Entry by Kip:

"I sit here all alone. I am always alone. I don't know who I am. I want to be something I can never be. I try so hard every day. But in the end, I hate myself for what I've become.

Every single person I know means nothing to me. I hate every person on this earth. I wish they could all go away. You all make me sick. I wish I was dead.

The only reason I stay alive is because of hope. Even though I am repulsive and few people know who I am, I still feel that things might, maybe, just a little bit, get better.

I don't understand any fucking person on this earth. Some of you are so weak, mainly, that a four year old could push you down. I am strong, but my head just doesn't work right. I know I should be happy with what I have, but I hate living.

Every time I talk to her, I have a small amount of hope. But then she will tear it right down. It feels like my heart is breaking. But is that possible. I am so consumed with hate all of the time. Could I ever love anyone? I have feelings, but do I have a heart that's not black and full of animosity?

I know everyone thinks this way sometimes, but I am so full of rage that I feel I could snap at any moment. I think about it everyday. Blowing the school up or just taking the easy way out, and walk into a pep assembly with guns. In either case, people that are breathing will stop breathing. That is how I will repay all you mother fuckers for all you put me through.

I feel like everyone is against me, but no one ever makes fun of me, mainly because they think I am a psycho. There is one kid above all others that I want to kill. I want nothing more than to put a hole in his head. The one reason I don't: Hope. That tomorrow will be better. As soon as my hope is gone, people die.

I ask myself why I hate more than anyone else. I don't know. But my head and heart want him dead. He only knows who I am through reputation, and I know he is scared of me. He should be. One bad day, and there will be a sawed off shotgun in his face or five pounds of Semtex under his bed.

Oh fuck. I sound so pitiful. People would laugh at this if they read it. I hate being laughed at. But they won't laugh after they're scraping parts of their parents, sisters, brothers, and friends from the wall of my hate.

Please. Someone, help me. All I want is something small. Nothing big. I just want to be happy.

End. New day. Today of all days, I ask her to help me. I was shot down. I feel like my heart has been ripped open and ripped apart. Right now, I'm drunk, so I don't know what the hell is happening to me.

It is clear that no one will help me. Oh God, I am so close to killing people. So close.

I gave her all I have, and she just threw it away. Why? Why did God just want me to be in complete misery? I need to find more weapons. My parents are trying to take away some of my guns! My guns are the only things that haven't stabbed me in the back.

My eyes hurt. They hurt so bad. They feel like they are trying to crawl out of my head. Why aren't I normal? Help me. No one will. I will kill every last mother fucking one of you. The thought of you is still racing in my head. I am too drunk to make sense.

Every time I see your face, my heart is shot with an arrow. I think she will say yes, but she doesn't, does she? She says, "I don't know". The three most fucked up words in the English language.

I want you to feel this, be this, taste this, kill this. Kill me. Oh God, I don't want to live. Will I see it to the end? What kind of dad would I make? All humans are evil. I just want to end the world of evil.

I don't want to see, hear, speak or feel evil, but I can't help it. I am evil. I want to kill and give pain without a cost. And there is no such thing. We kill him - we killed him a long time ago. Anyone that believes in God is a fucking sheep.

If there was a God, he wouldn't let me feel the way I do. ....Love isn't real, only hate remains. Only hate."

Essay about love, written by Kip

"Love Sucks

No, I don't believe in love at first sight because love is an evil plot to make people buy alcohol and firearms. When you love someone something it is always taken away from you. I also would like to add that I hate each and every one of you. Because everything I touch turns to shit. I think if you think you fall in love with someone at first sight it might just be lust. Love at first sight is only in movies. Where the people in the movies are better than you. That is why you go to a pone [pawn] shop and buy an AK-15 because you are going to execute every last mother fucking one of you. If I had a heart it would be gray.

It is easier to hate than love. Because there is much more hate and misery in the world than there is love and peace. Some people say that you should love everyone. But that is impossible. Look at our history it is full of death, depression, rape, wars and diseases. I also do not believe in love at first sight. But I do believe in hate at first sight. Therefore love is a much harder feeling to experience."

Monologue written by Kip for a homework assignment. This monologue was written for the character Tybalt of Romeo and Juliet.

"But you know me, I loathe all of them. I am no longer blind in my hatred, I can see with my hate. Blood will flow until they are all dead. This was the first moment in my life where I had taken the life of another. I loved it. It dispelled all the anger and animosity I was feeling."

Note written by Kip, confessing to the murder of his parents. This was found on a coffee table in the living room of the Kinkel's home.

"I have just killed my parents! I don't know what is happening. I love my mom and dad so much. I just got two felonies on my record. My parents can't take that! It would destroy them. The embarrassment would be too much for them. They couldn't live with themselves. I'm so sorry. I am a horrible son. I wish I had been aborted. I destroy everything I touch. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I didn't deserve them. They were wonderful people. It's not their fault or the fault of any person, organization, or television show. My head just doesn't work right. God damn these VOICES inside my head. I want to die. I want to be gone. But I have to kill people. I don't know why. I am so sorry! Why did God do this to me. I have never been happy. I wish I was happy. I wish I made my mother proud. I am nothing! I tried so hard to find happiness. But you know me I hate everything. I have no other choice. What have I become? I am so sorry"

A concerning note written by Kip on a Spanish worksheet

Another concerning note by Kip

"Respect Sheet" filled out by Kip

#loukaiitis #kip kinkel #tcc #true crime #kip

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veshiro · 4 months

Text

Million Dollar Man - Rui Kamishiro

x fem!reader

-> in which you find yourself saved by Rui pretending to be your boyfriend...

notes: yes, there will be a part two ;)

It started off with innocent glances that you could only pass off as observing. It hadn’t bothered you that someone seemed to occupy their eyes on you as it felt harmless. A man across the room was swirling his glass around in his hand, watching as the liquid topples around the sides, while having his gaze linger on you.

Tsukasa had invited the troupe to his after-party with his acting class to celebrate a great show, and naturally, you got to come along. At this point it felt as if you were an honorary member, occasionally helping to polish off scripts and brainstorm plots with their director, but you weren’t much of an actor yourself. The troupe mingles amongst themselves until Rui branches off first, choosing to make conversation with one of the professionals to gain some insight into his own skills. Nene clings to your side knowing you aren’t the type to butt into a conversation like the others. You accept a beverage generously offered by the class and are pleased to find it’s tart cherry sparkling water.

“If Tsukasa wasn’t having the time of his life with his classmates I think I would go congratulate him,” You speak to Nene first, breaking the slightly awkward silence between the two of you.

“He’ll come around eventually,” She replies, “he can never get too much attention.”

You laugh lightly and drink more of the water, the aftertaste leaving you thirsty from the tartness. It felt wrong to be standing silent in the middle of the room, or maybe it was the social anxiety creeping up to make you question yourself.

“Should we introduce ourselves around? Join one of the others?”

Emu seemed to be having the time of her life. The girl was laughing with the actor who starred as Wendy and appeared to be doing fine on her own. Rui looked intrigued by his conversation with an older, wise-looking man. No doubt he was gaining critical information he could use for the next performance.

“I’m going to head to the restrooms,” Nene announces and points down the hallway.

“I’ll wait.”

She seemed pleased by your words and offered a small smile and nod before departing. Staying true to your word, you stayed put and occasionally sipped on the beverage until the glass was empty. You make a mental note to grab a refill before everyone leaves.

“What is a fine girl like you doing alone in a place like this?”

You flinch slightly, not expecting a deep voice to be right next to your ear. Nonetheless, you keep your cool appearance and turn around, not entirely surprised to see your not-so-secret admirer from earlier. Choosing to ignore his rather sexual comments, you take a steady step back to gain some distance.

“I’m with my friends, actually. One of them was in the play.”

“I don’t see anyone with ya. I won’t abandon ya like they did.”

His smirk is lopsided in a dark way, a grin full of malice. Alarms immediately set off in your body, but it wasn’t like you could do much against him, and he knew that. Your eyes search and search but you’ve lost sight of Rui, and you can’t exactly turn around to quickly spot the others.

Where is Nene? Can’t she hurry up just this once?

“I’m not interest, sorry.”

Apologizing made you feel icky inside, but it’s best to seem polite and not to provoke a man like him.

“Oh come on. What are you, a student?”

Lie.

“A graduate.” You say curtly.

“I don’t believe that.”

You want to crawl into a hole and die to cleanse yourself of the ick this man gives you. He senses your unease and knows that he has the advantage.

Where did everyone go?

“Why don’t we…” He steps closer, a smell of cigarettes and alcoholic makes you almost gag, “have some fun?”

“I’m–” You swallow.

“Ah, dearest! There you are,” A firm hand wraps around your waist and pulls you close. “I was wondering where you had run off to.”

A flood of sweet vanilla fills your nostrils and easily combats the foul scent of the creep. The moment the scent settled you knew who it was and calmed down.

Is this the game we’re playing? You shoot the question silently with a pointing gaze. His cheshire smile says enough.

“I was waiting for our friend,” You don’t dare say her name, just in case. “She should be on her way back anytime now.”

Rui nods in understanding and turns his attention to the creep. His gaze locks, his eyes narrow, and if looks could kill, the creep would be in the deepest pit of hell.

“Have a kick out of making my girl uncomfortable during a celebration as lively as this?”

You hate to admit it, but hearing that term of endearment stirs something inside of you. Was it adoration? Gratefulness? It couldn’t possible be anything more, now that would be troublesome, wouldn’t it?

“She’s yours? I’m sorry, didn’t know, dude.”

A look of disgust crosses your friend’s face before the creep’s words even burn into your mind.

“She isn’t just an object to lay claim to,” His grip on your waist tightens, and you don’t think he even realizes. “She’s her own person. A smart, independent, and fucking capable woman.”

Damn. If you hadn’t had any sort of feelings for Rui before, you certainly do now. No one has defended you with such passion and demand before. It felt nice. Validating.

“You–” The creep points a finger and tries to step closer to the two of you, but Rui is quick to shut that attempt down. He pulls you slightly behind him, and by now the attention of others has been attracted.

“I suggest you stand down,” Rui smirks and plays with a pen he had been holding to take notes in his pocket notebook. He always insisted on bringing it wherever because 'you never know when inspiration may strike'. “Wouldn’t want to cause a scene now would we?”

The creep grumbles and contemplates his options. It wasn’t looking good for him, and the troupe had gathered behind you and Rui to back him away even more. He seems to decide you weren’t worth the wrath of the man protecting you and backs away, leaving the venue with a pissed off attitude.

“You’re okay?” Rui’s persona switches around completely. His once malicious-laced words are now soft and cushion any hurt that creep may have inflicted.

“I’m okay.”

He smiles and his hand draws back. Your waist feels oddly cold now. And just like that, everything goes back to normal.

#project sekai #reader insert #rui kamishiro x reader #rui project sekai #rui kamishiro #nene kusanagi #emu otori #tsukasa tenma #rui kamishiro x you #wonderlands x showtime

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the-fiction-witch · 3 months

Text

Young Love p3

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Smut

Requests Please please please please make part 3 of young love 🙏 I absolutely need part 3 of young love. PLEASE! Fiction Witch, please do a part 3 ahhhhhh pls I beg ANOTHER ONE 😍❤️😍❤️💕😍😍💕❤️ Pleaaseee another one it's getting interesting you could make a mini fanfic out if this Part 3 please ❤ Part 3 please 🥺 When you gonna update Young Love Part 3 if you don't mind me asking? And i wanted to you make Jack Dawkins jealous of Y/N's crush that make her flustered and affection. He thought he is the only one make her flustered and he don't like it. I hope you like my suggestion!!! part 3!!💋 Can you do a part 3 of young love please?

I got myself dressed for the day or at least dressed though for breakfast,

"why do I have to stay up here while you go down for breakfast?" Jack asked from my bed where he had been laid as I dressed,

"Becuase I said so Jack,"

"But why? I'm hungry."

"Because, if we go down together hand in hand it fuels the idea in their minds we were fucking,"

"...we were fucking."

"I know! but I don't want them to know that."

"Your mother walked in on us while I sat on the end of your bed completely naked, with you also completely naked standing between my legs while I was kissing your breasts... you really think your mother hasn't assumed where fucking?"

"I don't want to encourage them."

"You realize me coming down after you look like we were fucking and I needed time to recover?" He suggested

"...God damn it that's a good point." I sighed,

"And if you go down and get breakfast without me it again looks like we were fucking and I had to lay down to recover, or if I go down without you they're gonna think I fucked you so hard I made you black out."

"... Damn it."

"Y/n no matter what you do, your family is going to assume where fucking." he explained, "even just being up here alone after that they're gonna assume we're still fucking."

"come down after me, just give it some time." I told him fixing my hair and heading to the door, "And be... normal."

"Normal?"

"yes, be a normal gentleman Jack. You know not like you."

"...I'll try not to be offended by that,"

"Try harder," I told him before I went down for breakfast,

I sat at the table nibbling at breakfast trying to not draw attention to myself even if everyone was looking at me and trying to pry into my business, I avoided as many I could, praying for Jack to come down so he had to answer these questions. I heard the stairs so I sighed in relief but as Jack walked in I wanted to crawl into a hole a die.

As Jack walked into the kitchen in his white cotton shirt and his white cotton underwear, And nothing else!

"Morning," He greeted leaning on the door frame,

"Ohh Morning Doctor Dawkins, breakfast?" my mother asked,

"Absolutely, I am starving." He smiled coming to sit beside me and kissing my cheek, "Had an active night didn't I darling."

He got his breakfast and everyone began chatting the moment attention was off as I grabbed his hand crushing it as tight as I could, "I swear to god I am going to chain you in my room and beat you with a fire poker."

"Ummm didn't know you had such vicious tastes little girly," he smirked,

"The idea was to NOT draw attention to the fucking."

"Yeah, I know,"

"Then why!"

"That's what you get for calling me not normal" he winked before eating his toast,

"I hate you so much doctor Dawkins."

"Love you too little girly,"

When I finally escaped my parents and got Jack to put some Damn Pants on! which was not something I ever imagined needing to do. Yet here we are. I tried to kick him out but my parents insisted I walk him back to the Hospital Of course, Jack found this amusing so was gonna make me do it, so we stood walking back to the hospital through Port Victory.

"You are so pouty this morning little girly,"

"Pouty! Can you think why I might be!"

"I assume my amazing performance as your boyfriend? or are you just grumpy we can't snuggle anymore?" he smirked ticking me,

"Ahhh!" I yelped pushing his hands off my waist and bashing him on the head with my parasol, "No."

"what is it with you women carrying your damn parasols." He sighed rubbing his head,

"I am not grumpy, much less over snuggles."

"Liar,"

"I am not!"

"So you're not going to go back to your room and snuggle up in bed with one of your books and think about me?" He smirked grabbing my hand twirling it around my head and grabbing my waist to pull me to his chest as he spoke making me blush bright red,

"No, I am not." I protested pushing away,

"why not? I will about you," He smirked, "About my cute little girly sat bouncing on top of me,"

"maybe..." I answered adjusting my dress,

"Maybe?"

"Shut up Jack."

"So? when am I going to be needed to put in another amazing performance? in front of your family ... or in your bedroom?"

"I don't know," I sighed "I'm still mad at you."

"For what?"

"For- For what! You came down to breakfast with my parents in your undergarments!"

"Yeah? no matter what your family were going to assume we had sex, I merely confirmed it."

"You don't think my mother walking in on us was enough!"

"You're cute when you're mad,"

"Ughh you are infuriating," I sighed, stopping for a moment as we reached the docks hoping for the usual sight,

"There a reason we're stopping?"

"Nothing," I sighed as I looked to see one of the dock workers, I didn't know his name but he was a handsome man who often made me think things I shouldn't honestly he was the closest I had to being in love, Jack noticed and looked too standing beside me with his hands in his pockets,

"I take it you're into one of them?"

"No!"

"Y/n I'm your fake boyfriend you can tell me,"

"Maybe..."

"why don't you fake date him then?"

"My family would never allow it,"

"I think you're families pretty happy with anyone so long as you're banging them,"

"Jack!"

"Having sex with them then. God you really hate that word don't you?"

"I do." I said, "But even so, it's not a life I'd want to wait months wondering if my husband will come home, I can... have a crush its just not practical."

"Fair enough, what does he read you sweet stories and pitch you woo then?"

"No, just makes me flustered is all," I blushed,

"Which one?"

"Jason Liswick."

"Helpful, descriptive words little girly, you read enough books I'm sure you can eloquently describe him."

"He's tall, and broad, and handsome, tanned with sweet brown curls..."

"Wait- You talking about the one in the blue coat?"

"Yes... His sweet sapphire blue velvet coat-"

"That. Really?"

"Yes,"

"Him!" he asked giving me the most disgusted and confused look, "Really?"

"Yes. I think he's handsome."

"...That is handsome to you?" He asked, "That?"

"Yes."

"You think that! and I am attractive?"

"Not on the same level but yes."

"Ohh my god I suddenly feel so insulted."

Jason spotted me and waved so I happily waved back blushing hard, watching him work a while but I glanced back to Jack and saw him with the most rage-filled look glaring at Jason like he wanted to kill him. "What?"

"Nothing." he snapped,

"What?"

"Nothing!" he crossed his arms,

"Ohh come on what's that face about."

"Nothing."

"Jack, I'm your fake girlfriend you can tell me,"

"shut up Y/n."

"Jack? are you... are you jealous?"

He grabbed my hand and forced me down the alleyway pushing my body up against the wall

"Why would I be jealous of some little troll!"

"I -"

"Why would I be jealous? He can't have you like I can?" he smirked kissing my neck,

"Wha-"

"He's not the one snuggled in your bed, he's not the one kissing you, watching you naked, and getting to fuck you as much as he wants," He smirked his hands tugging up my dress to slip his hand up my thigh and begin stroking my clit

"Jack what-" I gasped in shock unsure if I wanted him to stop or keep going, I have to admit after his performance last night I did sort of want him to keep going but we were in public! anyone could look down the alley and see us like this, "I never said you could as much as you-"

"You might not have said it but we both know I will." He smirked, slipping two fingers inside me

"Ughhhhh!" I squealed trying to stay quiet and not draw attention,

"You've been quite the tease all these years little girly, now you've given me an In and maybe that's all I wanted, all I needed." He smirked, "Maybe I told Sneed to ask your parents for your hand knowing you would fight against it at all costs. Maybe I knew your bookworm brain enough to know you'd try and wrestle out of it telling them you had a boyfriend, and that I am your only option to ask anyone to be one."

"Are you-" I began, "Are you seriously... You Planned this!"

"Maybe I did," he smirked, "Maybe some were planned and some were convenient," he sniggered "or maybe I just know you so well" He smirked,

"And your end goal of this was?"

"Humm to get you in bed with me," he smirked, "Which I got, but after last night... I am not letting you go little girly." He growled, "You can drop that little crush right now, that boy is never going to look at you again, never going to touch this pretty body, because You're mine." he demanded. "You're mine and don't you even think about letting another boy so much as think about you, And I swear I will make you scream every night until you remember who you belong to." he smirked,

"You- you're not serious..." I whined already feeling close,

"I am deadly serious little girly. You're mine. I've been established in your family, and they know I've fucked you, as far as they're concerned I'm your loving boyfriend and we've done far too much for you to ever be allowed to marry anyone but me," he smirked, "And I am going to."

"You- you're what!"

"I'm going to marry you, so you're mine in law and body. I'm gonna make you my pretty little wifey."

"You will not."

"I will. you're not gonna stop me little girly. As soon as your family are more comfortable around me I'll ask them, and you know how badly they want their sweet daughter to be married to a man who loves her so devotedly, we'll get married, and the two of us will spend our days buried In our marriage bed together, you can read your cute little books all you want darling so long as I am the only real man who gets to touch you. Do we have a deal?"

"Jack i-"

"Do we have a deal y/n?" he smirked, "Becuase if we don't I'll tell your family everything."

"So either I agree and we get married, or you'll tell my family everything was a lie."

"That's the deal little girly,"

"... I'm not sure I have much of a choice here."

"Hmmm no. You don't." he smirked kissing my lips with passion and enthusiasm as I hit my orgasm grabbing him hard as my legs shook and my whole body collapsed against the wall, "Good girl," he cooed, moving his hand away.

"You are an evil little man you know that Jack."

"You're evil little husband." he corrected, "Come on wifey we can play around in my bed when we get back to the hospital," he smirked wrapping his arm around me

"Yes jack," I nodded laying my head on his shoulder,

"Awww good little girly," he cooed, "And you so much as look at that boy again I'll bend you over my bed and spank you, we clear?"

"Yes Jack," I nodded,

"Good, come on then." he smirked leading me out the alley towards the hospital,

#tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs smut #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster imagine #tbs #thomas brodie sangster smut #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #the artful dodger #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger

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