#When it's fiction I don't mind a little toxicity
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Was thinking about if you were besties with Alastor, what would be a good trigger for a fight, and how would he react to it if you were someone he wasn't willing to physically hurt, or socially ruin.
Alastor seems like the sort of guy who at some point or another would think he has the right to tell you what to do, and when you say no, or disagree, he doesn't expect it. When you set a boundary he doesn't appreciate, or that he can't help but take personally, I can see him pushing back, going into the habit of trying to get the upper hand, to show he's the one who ultimately calls the shots. You're in his life, not the other way around[his subconscious tells itself].
You've both had a rather agreeable friendship, your interests aligned, and the time and energy you wanted to give each other matched up. When you disagreed it was often playful and easy going, you're different people who respected each other, but this time he told you to listen to him, you say no casually thinking this is like any other simple disagreement, but a switch flips, "That's wasn't a request." he says, and that's what crosses a line. Since when does he think he can TELL you what to do? So you stand your ground.
Alastor wouldn't hurt you, his dearest friend, nor would he try to disrupt your life, he's too dignified for that, and you've done nothing so truly offensive as to cause him to destroy the life you've made here in Hell. So his only real punishment is his absence and pretending like he couldn't care less, but you've known him for decades, you know he's being petty and proud. You know he's expecting you to come back and apologize, and maybe he'll backtrack what he had told you to do, but he can't be the one to admit he was wrong. He'll go as far as trying to convince you that you were just a good hang, a fun way to pass the time, but surely it won't be difficult to live without you. He says that not because he means it but because he knows it'll hurt to hear after everything you've been through. That for him, you were just a way to stay occupied. Doesn't really matter if you believe him or not, to hear a friend say that, while looking into your eyes and plastering his most sincere and sadistic grin on his face, a part of you can't help but worry that maybe he's telling the truth.
You have two options, stand your ground and hope he'll realize he's wrong and apologize, or give him what he wants.
Not giving in means you're risking that his pride, his sense of stability, won't crumble if it means giving up control. Maybe whatever he told you to do had to do with him feeling like he was protecting you, or keeping you out of something that could reveal how weak he actually is[as a person, as someone beholden to a contract]. So in his mind, he convinces himself you're being naive, that by not listening you risk him losing you, or seeing you hurt. He wasn't able to help the one person he cared about growing up, he couldn't protect his mother, he can't risk caring about things that can be used against him or taken away. If you won't listen, then you're a liability. His friendship with you was fine so long as you kept out of trouble, lived your simple life, and were available when he was bored, but now you won't listen to him when clearly he knows best. You worry if you let this petty issue fester, he'll actually convince himself he really doesn't need you anymore, that you don't actually matter, and that you'll really lose him.
So how big is your sense of pride? Look past these flaws, and just do as he says, setting in motion a change in your dynamic, knowing he may only get worse. Or are your boundaries worth maintaining, thus leading to the long grieving of a decades long friendship as he distances himself more and more in his pursuit of power and control.
#When it's fiction I don't mind a little toxicity#sure lets just say you see his wounded inner child and thats enough of a reason to put up with his more toxic traits bc “devotion”#we all love some fictionally intense devotion dont we?#Indulging feels good after a rough day at work#radio demon#freyja#alastor x reader#alastor x oc#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel oc#hazbin hotel fanart#alastor hazbin hotel#my art
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Bloodily Safe | j.ww
pairing ➳ psychopath!wonwoo x fem!reader
genre ➳ psychological thriller? camgirl au(read note below), college au, smut
word count ➳ 18.5k
warnings ➳ toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, very descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder (lmk if I forgot smth)
synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?
disclaimer:❗ I am, by no means an expert in behavioural abnormalities so please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. I tweaked the story and their characteristics to my needs so please don't take this seriously. Also, this fic contains some highly sensitive topics so please read the warnings carefully. Do not interact if you are sensitive to these things ❗
note: reader isn't a camgirl in the typical sense, she basically reads erotica on live.
loosely based on the kdrama shadow beauty
I.
The glaring red light of the camera lens blinks at you as pause for a moment between your reading. Your tablet sits on your lap, glowing brightly in the lowly lit room as 8 thousand viewers watch you live through the lens.
With a sigh, you continue reading in your best teasing voice.
Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You’re not surprised when he doesn’t stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.
Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you’re floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you’re too gone to care.
With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.
"That will be all for today guys. Thank you so much for tuning in. I'll be back on Thursday night!" You wave at the camera as soon as you finish and do your signature pose— making half hearts on your cheeks with your hands as the viewers leave comments asking you to stay a bit longer. Sending a flying kiss towards the camera you turn off your live and watch as the screen loads to show you how much you've earned for the two-hour live. Once the number pops up, you sigh with satisfaction and finally, take off the mask that you wear to conceal your identity.
After all, you wouldn't want people, especially your classmates or professors to find out you read erotica live in skimpy underwear and flirt with people to earn some extra bucks.
Well, a girl's gotta do what she gotta do.
Quickly changing out of the uncomfortable lingerie, you put on a comfortable t-shirt and crawl to bed with your laptop to check if the money has been transferred to your account. The camming website takes 20% of whatever you earn from each live yet the amount left is enough for you to make your work worthwhile.
Camming was never in your mind at all, even in your wildest dreams. Yet when your mother fell sick last year and the medical bills started piling up, you knew you had to find some easy way to earn good money. Then, one day, you overheard a couple of girls in class talking about camming and how good the money is.
Simply curious, you visited the website only to be unlocked to a whole new world. Thousands of people did a variety of adult content there but you were not brave enough to get naked from the start. So you opted for a safer option, reading erotica on live while wearing lingerie and flirting with the camera.
The first time you did it was only to test the waters using whatever equipment you had at hand but surprisingly, the response you got shocked you. So it started, you doing lives two days a week and earning enough money to pay for your mother's treatment and your college bills.
nerdycatboy wants to chat with you
The notification appears on your screen, telling you someone wants to talk to you privately on the camming website. You generally block these messages as most of them ask for nudes or send dick picks. Still, you click on it and watch as three dots appear, your fingers hovering over the block option, ready to press it as soon as the sender sends something inappropriate.
Surprising you, the message reads:
[nerdycatboy]: Hello, cherrybaby!
Today was the second time I watched your live.
You have a really beautiful voice.
I don't frequent these sites but I opened an account just to send you tips. Hope you received them.
Somewhat flattered, you type out a reply.
[you]: Thank you so much. I'm flattered to hear that. And yes, I received them.
[nerdycatboy]: You're welcome.
Also, I wanted to tell you something.
[you]: Sure.
[nerdycatboy]: I know who you are.
[you]: Excuse me?
[nerdycatboy]: ______. ______ of the Psychology department, Seoul University.
You're studying on scholarship.
Wanna know something funny?
I am your classmate ;D
Your throat feels something akin to a desert as you blink at the screen, praying for it to be a hallucination. The words, however, don't change and the daunting realization hits you.
Someone has figured out your identity.
Someone knows it's you.
But who?
Shit, who? Who could it possibly be?
You share your classes with almost eighty other people and it's impossible to guess this... stalker.
You're absolutely fucked.
It has only been a month since college started and you are doomed. What if whoever this is, exposes your identity and you are expelled?
Dear almighty, please let this be a dream.
A sudden ping! alerts you about another message, making you jump. Carefully, you open the chat to see what your stalker has to say.
[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't leave me on read.
You wouldn't want me to get angry now, would you?
A squeak of despair leaves your lips as your fingers nervously hover over the keyboard.
[you]: What do you want?
[nerdycatboy]: To play a game.
This really isn't looking good.
[you]: Please, just leave me alone.
[nerdycatboy]: Ey, where's the fun in that? Come on now, we'll just play silly little games.
You stare at the screen, your world coming down crashing on you as you wonder in the back of your mind, whether you should stop camming for good. Even if you wanted to, it's not possible.
Who's gonna pay for your mom's bills?
[nerdycatboy]: You there?
[you]: Yes.
[nerdycatboy]: Good. I'll come again before your next live. We're gonna play a little game then, okay?
You stare at the screen in silence.
[you]: Okay.
[nerdycatboy]: That's a good girl. In the meantime, have fun trying to figure out who I am. We see each other every day after all. It's just that you wouldn't know who I am.
You grind your teeth, holding back the urge to type all sorts of curse words you can think of.
[nerdycatboy]: Bye bye, now. Sleep tight.
[you]: Fuck you, loser.
You slam your laptop shut and lie in silence, curled up in your bed. The only way out seems to be to permanently delete your account but that is not an option for you. It is also quite literally impossible for you to figure out who it is. You don't even know if it's a guy or a girl or a goddamn fucking alien.
As the night grows deeper you only start to get more anxious and only when the sun starts to rise in the sky, do you fall asleep, your dreams plagued by the haunting messages from earlier.
II.
"_____? _____!"
The deep voice jolts you awake as you blink around, taking time to realize that you've fallen asleep on your desk during the lecture which now seems to have ended as you see everyone around you packing their bags and leaving.
A man stands next to your desk, holding a few sheets of paper towards you and you blink at them, confused.
"The professor gave us the answer sheet for last week's quiz. You seem to have fallen asleep during class." He says.
Your brain finally starts functioning just enough to realize it's Wonwoo talking to you.
Jeon Wonwoo.
The famous nerd, the genius, the pro gamer, the campus crush, the it boy and...
The man of your dreams.
"Right! Right, thank you," you croak, reaching for the sheets with one hand while trying to wipe the corners of your mouth for any drool.
"It's alright." He replies, as impassive as ever. His expression remains somber as always as he regards you through his glasses. Sometimes you wonder if he's a robot. Even though you have known him since high school, you've yet to see the man smile or shout or show any vivid emotion. He has always been the quiet type, keeping to himself, always studying or doing whatever intelligent people does.
He was the most popular guy in high school, loved by all, even the teachers, because of his perfect and polite demeanor and extraordinary results that got him many awards at the national level. The fame followed him to college too as you have seen in the last two months; with women and even some men flocking around him. You are not ashamed to admit you are one of them too, but not like it matters.
Jeon Wonwoo seems to be living in a completely different world.
"No, thanks, really." You reply, slightly awkward, not knowing what else to say exactly. He nods and slings his backpack over his shoulder and turns around to walk away. He seems to have a thought as he turns his head and asks, "Rough night? I haven't seen you doze off in class ever. You are always on top of your game."
Holy shit, that is the most amount of words he has spoken to you. Scratch that, that's the most you've ever heard him speak at a time.
And more importantly, he has been paying attention to you?? He notices you enough to know that you don't doze off?
Swallowing, you try not to let your face break out into a grin. "Yeah kind of," you mumble. He nods and spares you a glance before walking out of the classroom as you watch his lean, athletic frame from behind, a soft sigh escaping from your lips.
After he's gone, you pack up your stuff, mentally face-palming yourself for falling asleep during class. Not only did you fail to keep an eye out for your stalker but you also made a fool of yourself in front of Wonwoo.
What a great day!
III.
The next Thursday, a delivery from an anonymous person comes to you just a couple of hours before your live. A handwritten note sits on top as you open the package and your gut sinks once you realize who it's from.
Hello there, little cherry!
Please accept my lovely gift. Wear it in your live today unless you want your secret to be out ;)
Also, wear something black with it.
Love, your new best friend!
You crumple the note in your hand as you eye the package nervously, dread filling your veins as your mind tries to conjure what the item might be. Hands shaky, you reach for it to rip it open and then stand in silence as you gaze at it for a while.
The asshole sent you a cat costume.
A sexy cat costume.
More specifically a pair of black cat ears, a cat mask, a pair of paws and a... fucking tail.
Absolutely mortified at the idea of wearing these provocative items on live, you sink onto the floor, an utter sense of despair settling over you.
Sweet lord, this has to be a joke.
Quickly logging in to the camming website you type your new best friend a message.
[you]: You're kidding me, right? Please tell me this is a joke.
The asshole is very quick to reply.
[nerdycatboy]: I see you have received my gift. No, little cherry, I am not kidding.
You grind your teeth, eyes burning holes in the screen.
[you]: I can't wear that on live!
[nerdycatboy]: Why not? You'll look absolutely lovely. The black really goes with your skin tone.
Oh for fucks sake.
[you]: Are you a fucking furry?
There are several minutes of silence.
[nerdycatboy]: You are fucking cute you know that? I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard.
[nerdycatboy]: No, cherry, I am not a furry. I just like cats and you remind me of one. I bet if I touched you, you'd purr real good.
You would never admit how that text sent a jolt of shiver down your spine and made your toes curl.
[you]: Please, can you not do this?
[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't whine. It won't get you anywhere.
[nerdycatboy]: I'll tune in later. If you do not do as you're told you know what will happen...
[nerdycatboy]: Ah, I forgot. You don't have to wear the tail during your live. It will be uncomfortable to sit with. Just send me a picture later, hmm?
[nerdycatboy]: Bye now.
Fucking mother of all fucks.
You toss your phone on the bed, groaning out loud in frustration. The cat ears and mask sit next to you on the floor, mocking you in silence.
IV.
"Hello, my darlings! This is your favorite cherrybaby, back with you. Today I'll be reading the second chapter of Sugar & Spice!"
The comments, as you expected, go nuts over your outfit— the black cat ears with the mask, covering the better half of the top of your face, the furry paws paired with a lace black lingerie. Despite your initial thoughts of ignoring them, you decide to address them with their never ending onslaught.
"Everyone is talking about my little props today." You pause for an awkward chuckle. "Well, I thought I would spice things up. Aren't these cute?"
You can hear the stiffness in your own voice. Shaking it off, you read a few comments while waiting for the live to reach your minimum number of tips, which only takes a few minutes today before you start reading the erotica.
Throughout the live, u have no idea if the asshole has joined in and you almost start to think that maybe he has left you for good, that maybe it was a one time prank. However during the last ten minutes of your live, as you proceed to wrap it up you see the notification that bring your eyes to your forehead.
nerdycatboy gifted you 500$.
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit.
As soon as your live is finished you shoot him a private message.
[you]: Didn't think you'd be that pleased to see me dressed up as a cat.
[nerdycatboy]: Oh cherry, I was pleased alright. You were an absolute sight for sore eyes.
[you]: Thank you I guess?
[nerdycatboy]: Welcome. Now send me some pictures. Wearing the tail.
[you]: Can you answer a question first?
[nerdycatboy]: No promises.
You sigh. Here goes.
[you]: Are you a guy or a girl?
[nerdycatboy]: Why? Wouldn't send me the pictures if I was a girl?
You roll your eyes.
[you]: Just trying to narrow down my suspect list.
[nerdycatboy]: Cute. Keep trying. I am a guy. The man straight out of your nightmares, as you will start to find out.
Okay...
There are many many guys in your class, literally half of the total students. It's impossible to figure him out among them.
[nerdycatboy]: Now the pictures, cherry. Don't keep me waiting.
His message breaks your train of thought as you sigh, defeated. Telling him to wait while you fetch the stupid cat tail and clip it on your underwear. You're too humiliated to look in the mirror so instead you place your tripod on the bed with your phone and pose a couple of times or so, one from the front and one from the back.
As you scroll through them, you cannot bring yourself to believe you just took these pictures and let alone you're about to send them to someone. Each of them is equally provocating and humiliating. Before you start to think too much you bite your lip hard and send, watching as he views your message.
[you]: There you go, asshole.
[nerdycatboy]: Only three?
[you]: Take it or leave it. I'm tired.
You reply, not caring to be polite. The frustration and humiliation get to you as you rip the stupid things off your body and toss them away before falling on your bed and lying face down in silence.
[nerdycatboy]: Getting feisty. It's okay, I'm feeling kind today so I'll let you go.
[nerdycatboy]: Until next time, little cherry. xoxo
You watch his messages, a numbing feeling of defeat settling over you as you turn off your phone and push it away.
Even though you desperately want to think of nothing a thought continues to nag you. A shameful, despicable thought that you just can't seem to ignore.
You might be really enjoying being humiliated by an unknown man on the internet. How truly absurd, no? You let out a scream of frustration into the pillow. A faceless, seemingly rich man who has a kink of humiliating you is keeping your mind awake and body restless at night.
How did it ever get to this?
V.
[nerdycatboy]: I've been thinking about your task for tomorrow and finally made a decision.
[you]: Okay...
[nerdycatboy]: Wear a white shirt. Nothing more, nothing less.
[you]: Excuse me?
[nerdycatboy]: You heard me all right, little cherry.
You keep staring at the message as if looking at it long enough will make it disappear. It definitely doesn't. In fact, it gets worse.
[nerdycatboy]: And keep the top two buttons undone. Showing a little cleavage won't hurt. And wear red lipstick.
You keep staring at your screen, wondering in the back of your mind for the nth time just how your life came to be this.
God sure loves to test you.
[you]: I'm not a harlot you know.
[nerdycatboy]: Never said you were one. Besides what's wrong with being a one?
Him and his way with words. You roll your eyes, your fingers pressing the keys on the keyboard angrily.
[you]: If I wear white my tits will show.
[nerdycatboy]: That's exactly the point.
A seething rage envelopes your entire being as you clench both of your fists, inhaling a few deep breaths to stop yourself from smashing something. Ever since you came across this asshole you're realizing you've unlimited anger that you never thought you had in you.
[you]: Whatever, dick.
You reply and shut off your computer in an unsuccessful attempt to block him out.
However, the next day, you do end up doing your live in a plain thin white shirt which of course, makes the chatbox go up in flames.
Within a minute of starting your live, comments about your outfit start flooding in.
Fuck, you look so hot!
The red lips suit you so much!!
Yo, I can see her nipples.
You're getting bolder these days. Love to see it!!!
I'll pay anything for you to take the shirt off.
Swallowing, you ignore the crude comments and start with your usual greeting. "As you can see, everyone, my outfit is a bit risky today. Just thought I'd venture into something new." You force a laugh.
Did she lose a bet or something?
Yes, we need more risky outfits. How about being topless next time?
It's a downpour of all types of comments but you can't let them get to you. So you start reading the erotica instead, reading one or two decent comments every now and then for the next two hours. The view count is insane, the highest you've ever had and the number of tips are also sky high.
A tiny, tiny part of you is thankful to your crazy stalker, whom, you haven't seen in the comments section. You could have missed him, sure, but he was silent during the last live too so you can't rest easy knowing he is watching. You're ninety-nine percent sure he's gonna DM you as soon as the live is over.
Which turns out to be accurate.
Just as you are done taking off your mask and stretching your sore muscles after the live, his message pops up on the screen.
[nerdycatboy]: you looked absolutely devouring, little cherry.
You don't know why those words make you flush. Just a little bit, you tell yourself.
[you]: thanks, pervert.
[nerdycatboy]: this pervert would like some pictures today too.
Oh god. You rub your temples.
[you]: definitely not nudes.
[nerdycatboy]: no? :(
[nerdycatboy]: I don't want nudes, ____. Let us build up to it ;) Just snap some of you sitting on your bed with those pouty red lips. And undo another button of your shirt.
It's humiliating how his orders make you curl your toes and feel giddy all over. Like an obedient pet, you do as you're told, a bit too enthusiastically. You take your time and make sure to appear sexy and get the best angles. Once satisfied, you send them to the anonymous and wait eagerly.
[nerdycatboy]: you're a sight for sore eyes.
[you]: Prof Luther's assignment getting to you?
[nerdycatboy]: Mhmm. These will definitely help me power through.
[you]: glad I could be of help 🙄
[nerdycatboy]: you sure are. until your next live, little cherry. don't miss me too much.
You snort.
[you]: yeah, whatever, sicko.
[nerdycatboy]: Also, I'll be sending you a gift. You'll love it. I already do.
Oh god. Worry begins to bloom as your brain tries to think of the gift. What will he be sending you now? What is he gonna make you do on your next live? More importantly, are you seriously looking forward to it?
Yes, you are. This tiny, fucked up part inside you is excited and all too eager to please and obey a random stranger on the internet.
[you]: Please don't.
You type instead.
[nerdycatboy]: You should receive it within the next three days. We'll talk then.
[nerdycatboy]: Bye, little cherry. Sweet dreams.
And he's offline, leaving you hanging once again.
VI.
True to his words and from your worst nightmares, a package arrives three days later. Once again, you're too scared to open it, just standing there in silence while chewing on your lower lip. Your gut is telling you that it won't be something good which means it can only be something humiliating and freaky.
Taking a deep, calming breath, you start to open the outer packaging to find a baby pink cardboard box. There's a note taped on top of the lid.
I can't wait to see you use this on camera, little cherry.
It's only a line but it has you sweating buckets as you take off the lid with shaky hands.
Your world comes to an absolute halt. For long moments, you just stand rooted to your spot with your mouth agape, convinced that this can't be real.
It is, unfortunately.
The asshole sent you a vibrator.
A fucking vibrator.
It's a huge Hitachi wand and just looking at it gives you shivers.
There is absolutely no way...
You're immediately reaching for your phone to fire a text to the asshole.
[you]: Wtf? Is this a joke?
You type and snap a picture of the device to send it to him.
It seems that he has been expecting you to text as he immediately replies.
[nerdycatboy]: It absolutely is not. I am very much looking forward to seeing you use it.
[you]: Fuck you, dickhead. I won't. There's a limit to everything.
[nerdycatboy]: There's no limit to the games we play, little cherry. In fact, this doesn't even begin to cover it. I have more plans for you.
You can't think of a way this could get any worse.
Holding your breath, you wait for him to elaborate.
[nerdycatboy]: Little cherry, do you want to hear my voice?
What?
Your breath catches in your lungs as you stare wide eyed at the text for a long time.
[you]: Yes but not at the cost of this.
[nerdycatboy]: Hmm, as stubborn as ever. What if I told you I'd reveal myself if you use the vibrator on yourself in live?
It's the second time your breath stutters, a small gasp emitting from you as you cup your open mouth.
Immediately, the gears in your brain start turning. You'd finally get to know who he is and end this misery. Maybe you can come up with some sort of dirt on him and blackmail him in return. The possibilities are endless, truly.
However, more than anything else you're excited to finally see who it is and no matter how much you keep telling yourself no, a teeny tiny part of you is eager to pleasure yourself on camera.
God, what have you become, _____.
With a defeated sigh, you start typing.
[you]: You drive a hard bargain.
[you]: Alright. You have a deal but make sure to keep your promise.
[nerdycatboy]: I vow on my degree, little cherry. You will know who I am within the next forty-eight hours.
The thought sends an exciting chill down your spine.
[nerdycatboy]: Exciting, isn't it?
You roll your eyes.
[you]: Shut up and tell me what I need to do in the live.
[nerdycatboy]: Ah, yes. Nothing that tough really, wear that white shirt you wore last time and play with yourself. According to my instructions, of course.
[you]: Your instructions?
[nerdycatboy]: Yes.
I'll be on call with you throughout the live, giving you instructions.
Your curl your toes and bite your lip, a new wave of excitement rising within you as heat pools in your belly. This is unlike anything you've ever done before and way out of your comfort zone but surprisingly, you're all too ready to comply.
Your hands are shaky as you type.
[you]: Okay.
[nerdycatboy]: You are so obedient, my cherry. It really is great fun to play with you.
I'll call you tomorrow just before your live, then.
You swallow.
[you]: Alright.
He doesn't reply anymore and you think he has gone offline. Just as you are about to log out too, another text comes.
[nerdycatboy]: And remember ______, you follow every instruction of mine. That means you follow how I tell you to please yourself and you come when I tell you to. If you do a single thing without my permission, you're absolutely done for.
Your earlier feelings are replaced with an overwhelming feeling of trepidation and doom in the blink of an eye.
Quick realization dawns on you that you are a mere puppet being controlled by an evil puppeteer and your fate is hanging by a thread.
VII.
The next day, you receive an incoming voice call from nerdycatboy just two minutes before your live.
You are ready with your full setup; you just need to start the live when it's time. The AirPods are also set in your ears for him to guide you through.
At first, your entire body freezes up as your phone starts ringing and anxiety envelopes you as and you fall into a spiral. But when you remember how your entire life is on the line, you pick up the phone just as it's about to stop ringing.
Inhaling deeply, you speak.
"Hello?"
There's a beat of silence on the other side.
And another.
And another.
"Start the live, _____. It's time."
The voice is deep, gravelly, familiar yet unfamiliar but you don't get to think long about it because your finger presses the start button and just like that you're on live.
You see yourself on the screen, dressed in a white shirt amidst the neon pink lighting in your room. Today, you've put on a wig— a baby pink wig with two high ponytails and wore a basic black face mask instead of your usual stylish mask that covers the upper half or more of your face. It's obvious you're trying to cover as much of yourself as possible to counter the part that you're going to show.
Oh, sweet lord, you're doing this.
Your greeting and interaction are a lot stiffer compared to other days as there is a sadistic man in your ears. You've also restricted the comment box because you feel it's necessary for today, hence they move slowly as you go through them.
The man in your ears has been quiet but you know he's there, waiting with you, for the view count to reach the minimum. As soon as it does, he speaks.
"Why don't we get started, _____. Introduce your toy to everyone."
You swallow as your panicky gaze lands on the intimidating piece of device right out of the camera frame. You are full of nerves and anxiety and to de-stress yourself just a bit, you take a sip of the wine that you've hidden in your coffee cup.
Then, with a deep breath, you start.
"So guys... I've already said that I'm not gonna be reading today. Instead, I'm trying something new and different. Very, very different." You force a smile at the camera as you pick up the device and grip it tightly in your hand.
"I'm in the mood for...playing tonight and guess what I'm playing with?" You inhale deeply before lifting the device to show it to the camera, moving it around in a teasing manner.
As expected, the people in the comments go insane.
"That's right. I'll be using this pretty toy on me." You give a seductive smile, despite wearing the mask, hoping your eyes coney the expression.
"Good job, little cherry. Let's not waste time now. Turn it on." The man commands quietly and once again you're body acts like it's on autopilot, obeying him immediately.
There's something about his voice, so dangerous, so attractive. Something so powerful you don't dare disobey.
It's insane, really.
As ordered, you plug in the device and turn it on, watching warily as it starts vibrating, your throat going dry.
"Go ahead. Open your legs and put it on your pussy. Don't hold it anywhere too long, though. Tease yourself."
Oh fuck.
The sensible, conscious part of you starts freezing up with fear while the other part lets you only think about how hot all of this is and how eager you are to comply.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean back on your seat and part your legs. Trembling hands reach between them to pull your pink lacy panties to one side, revealing yourself to the camera.
There, you've done it.
Something inside you goes numb as you feel the chilly air on your bare core and from then on, you start feeling like a complete puppet, only here to dance as her puppeteer pleases.
Now there's no going back.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the comments fly by as the view count increases significantly.
Your puppeteer has been silent and you're somewhat grateful for his patience as you slowly adjust to your actions.
With another huge breath, you bring the thrumming device to your pussy and gingerly touch yourself while interacting with the camera, careful to follow the given instructions.
You're so wound up you don't feel any pleasure at the first touch on your pussy.
"You're so tense, _____. Don't make it look like someone is holding you at gunpoint. Relax your body, little cherry."
It proves to be harder said than done.
Still, you try to get yourself to relax and interact with the camera as you once again bring the device to your lips, playing with yourself.
"Good girl, _____. You look absolutely ravishing right now. Just keep following my voice and I promise you'll have the best orgasm you've ever had."
His tone is gentle yet ordering and oh so deep that you close your eyes and just let his words wash over you. The vibrator touches your clit right then making you jolt in your seat, a sigh of pleasure falling from your lips.
"Fuck, you're soaking, little cherry. You can try to act unwilling but deep down you are loving this. This is what you want, what you need, _____." His voice is gravelly as he breathes in your ears and you chew on your lower lip, knowing there is some truth to his words.
"Hold your pussy lips open, cherry. Run the toy up and down your folds."
You do as you are told, holding yourself open to the camera as the vibration goes through your soaking folds, making you whine in need.
"Turn the vibrations up. Just one bit."
The toy thrums stronger against your core and your legs start shaking just the tiniest bit. They have fallen wide open, resting against the armrest of your chair as you play with yourself.
"So obedient, little cherry. And so filthy. You're a real sight." He whispers. Your brain is starting to feel hazy as all your attention hones down to get yourself to release but as you expected, it doesn't prove to be so easy.
"Turn it off. Now."
Despite the serious urge to disobey him, you turn off the vibrator, teeth gritting, your pussy twitching in protest.
"We're you close, little cherry? Too bad, we can't have you cumming so easily. Turn it on again. Stroke yourself with it. Slowly."
And once again, you are eagerly following his words.
"Push it inside your pussy lips, little cherry. Just a bit. Not all the way, though."
Swallowing, you release a shaky breath and slip the vibrating head inside you, just a little bit— not even half of the head and the pleasure significantly increases as you let out a loud moan.
"Feels good doesn't it? Don't you dare slip it all the way in. There's no way I am letting a toy get inside you before myself."
His words make a shiver roll down your spine as you think of his cock and him whispering filthy words in your ear as he takes you. The little, sane part of your brain shakes her head at your deprived thoughts about a faceless man who has been blackmailing you.
"Turn it off."
Just like before, the man seems to know when your orgasm starts to rise. He tells you to shut off the device and much to your reluctance you do so, not knowing how long you can continue this without losing your mind.
"Turn it on to the highest setting this time. Hold it right on your clit. Don't you dare cum, cherry. I wanna see you writhe."
Oh fuck.
It's a really tough challenge, one you're sure you're gonna fail, yet you're helpless. You do as you're told, holding the throbbing device on your most sensitive part as you start to feel like you're gonna lose your mind. Your head falls back as your eyes roll to the back of your head, heavy pants falling from your lips as your legs shake.
"P-please, let me...come."
"You look so fucking hot right now cherry. I want to see you like this, begging for my cock. Tell me, do you want it?"
"Y-yes. Please..." You are so close you can taste the release.
"Turn it off, cherry. Right now."
With a cry of protest, you turn off the vibrator and let it fall from your hands as you slump back in your chair and catch your breath.
This is the sweetest torture.
The comments go wild, some wanting to see you come and some telling you to keep edging yourself. As you watch the number of tips only increase, your toes curl at the indecency of all of this.
"Let's continue, baby. Turn it on, play with yourself."
Hands shaky, you reach for the device again.
This game of cat and mouse continues until you're a crying and begging mess. He finally grants you your release and then rewards you with a short break before continuing. In the next couple of hours, you come three more times and your bones turn to jelly by the end of it. The live reaches its end when he finally hangs up the call and you're all too quick to wrap things up.
When your computer screen goes black and you can see your disheveled state in the reflection, your mind blanks out as you sit in complete silence, the happenings of the evening slowly replaying in your mind.
The money you've earned tonight is more than you could ever imagine and yet there is no happiness or relief bubbling in you. Rather, you feel empty and absolutely numb, the past hours feeling like a fever dream but the ache between your legs tell you they are very painfully real.
The screen of your phone lights up with two notifications, interrupting your trance.
nerdycatboy has sent you 1000$
[nerdycatboy]: a little gift for your hard work
You stare at the screen in silence until it goes black and then some more. It takes a while for you to realize tears are rolling down your cheeks. And then you are full-on sobbing as you hide your face in your hands and weep at the overwhelmingly miserable situation of yours.
When you finally get some sleep it is late into the night and tears are staining your cheeks and your pillowcase.
VIII.
Despite the rough night, you attend your classes the next day, somewhat glad that they are in the evening. You doze through all of it though, tired and way too distracted to pay attention to the lecture.
The tips of your fingers drum continuously against your desk as you wait for the class to be over. Your mind is spiraling; going haywire thinking about the fact that you will be meeting nerdycatboy today.
That is if he keeps his promise.
He hasn't contacted you since last night and given his stalker-ish tendencies, you're sure he knows your schedule. So why hasn't he messaged you yet?
Probably because he played you, silly girl.
You let out a loud sigh, frustrated, exhausted and enraged. How much longer will this match of cat and mouse go on? You have seriously started to consider shutting off your page temporarily because playing this stupid game with the anonymous asshole is proving to be way too much for you to bear.
The lecture finishes at some point while you're stuck inside your head and as you start packing your bags, you receive a text.
It's him.
I'll meet you at the library building in half an hour.
Your head immediately snaps up as your eyes scan the crowd leaving the classroom, a failed attempt to pinpoint him.
Okay, I'll be waiting.
You grab a coffee while waiting for him, your foot tapping the ground incessantly as you come to terms with the fact that you will be seeing him soon. Your misery will finally be over.
Hopefully.
What do you do when you see him? Curse at his face? Hit him? Or say it was nice playing stupid games with you now please leave me alone?
You've no idea. Your nerves leave you feeling jittery and tense as you see the clock hit seven in the evening. Half an hour is almost up so you start walking towards the library building, goosebumps arising on your skin as shivers roll down your spine.
You don't know if it's the chilly evening air or your nerves.
The library closes at six thirty so there is no one around the building now. The sun has long set and the sky is dark now, save for the little bits of orange and pink here and there.
It could be your brain projecting things but the atmosphere feels eerie and you wonder why he chose such an empty place. What does he plan to do with you? He wouldn't have chosen a quiet place unless he had some bad intentions, right?
Stop overthinking, _____. Your brain hisses.
The watch on your hand reads 7:10 now and there's no sign of anybody. Anxious, you shoot him a text, asking where he is and as expected you don't get a reply.
Tired of looking around the area with wide and restless eyes you decide to step inside the building. The ground floor is still unlocked as there are a few storage units here and you make yourself comfortable in the dimly lit hallway, leaning by a small window and focusing on the garden outside to distract yourself.
Seconds pass by with your feet tapping on the tile floor in matching beats. You grow more impatient, repeatedly checking the time and your message to see if it has been read.
Until you hear footsteps.
They echo down the hall as someone enters the building.
You hold your breath and watch the silhouette, your eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.
And your entire world crashes and burns.
It's Jeon Wonwoo, walking towards you.
IX.
The first thing you tell yourself is that this is a coincidence, that he's here to get something from the supply closet. But the idea seems less and less plausible as he keeps walking towards you, his strides determined and only stops a few feet away from you.
You gulp, your entire body frozen as you gape at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something.
Judging from the upturned corners of his lips, your reaction seems to amuse him plenty. He stands there, his hands in his pockets as he watches you with a twinkle in his eyes and says the words you were still praying he wouldn't.
"Hello, little cherry."
X.
Despite expecting those words, the shock that overcomes your system is enough to make you lose your footing as you stumble on your feet, hands reaching for the wall behind you to support yourself.
Your breath comes out in the form of short pants as small beads of sweat gather on your forehead.
You knew, you knew, you knew.
You knew it!
The second you heard his voice yesterday, your subconscious told you it was Wonwoo. You, however, chose to be ignorant, dismissing the idea just as quickly as it appeared.
There was no way it could be Wonwoo. Except it is.
You should be glad it is him, no? After all the man you had imagined in the place of the faceless man was always Wonwoo. He had been the man of your fantasies for the longest time yet the feeling of betrayal and hurt is overwhelming.
Funny, considering that he didn't actually betray you. If anything, you have been betraying yourself.
Wonwoo stands in front of you, still as a statue, hands in his pockets, his stance calmer than a winter evening. His face is blank but there is a glint in his eyes, something between sadistic amusement and cocky satisfaction as he watches you crumble in front of him.
Where is the plain old nerdy Wonwoo?
"Wo-Wonwoo..." You don't know what you are trying to say as you lose your train of thought, dropping abruptly onto the ground. Accidentally, you scrape your index finger by the windowsill but your brain registers no pain due to the overwhelming shock as you simply sit in silence and stare as little drops of blood ooze out of the cut.
God, this is straight out of your worst nightmares.
Or, your darkest, filthiest fantasies?
Wonwoo, however, seems to spot the drops of red beading on your fingertips which you ignore. He takes slow but determined steps toward you, his footsteps echoing eerily through the empty hallway. When he is right in front of you, he stops before kneeling on one knee as one of his hands reaches for your injured finger.
He watches the little drops of blood ooze through the cut with rapt attention, his dark eyes somehow appearing darker in the dim lights. Then, surprising you, he takes your hand and brings the bleeding finger to his lips, his eyes intently focused on yours as he sucks the little cut. Your breath hitches, half of yourself wanting to yank your hand away from disgust and rage while the majority of you remain paralyzed as the hauntingly mesmerizing scene plays in front of you.
"Be careful now, can't have you getting hurt now, can we, little cherry?" He takes the finger out of his mouth and observes while the corners of his lips lift into an eerie smile that finally manages to bring some heat into your blood as you seize your hand out of his grip.
"Fuck you, asshole! You're fucking sick!" You hiss out the words you never thought you would say to Wonwoo.
Your attack brings an even bigger smile to his lips as he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "Oh little cherry, tell me something I don't know."
You swallow and try to scoot away from him despite the limited space. "Did you have fun bullying me, you sicko?"
"Come on now, _____. Let's not twist the truth. I was not bullying you. We were just playing a game. Besides, I should be the one to ask that." He coos at you, his voice so innocent it makes your brain trip. Tilting his head to a side he keeps stroking your cheek with his fingertips and whispers, "Did you have fun being ordered around by me? By being humiliated? Hm, pretty girl?"
Your eyes widen and you swallow nervously, clenching your hands in tight fists to stop yourself from hitting him.
He chuckles. "It's alright. You don't have to answer that." He stands up, puts his hands in his pockets and stares down at you, tilting his head once more as if you're one fascinating creature. "Because we both know you loved it."
"I didn't!" Your protest is immediate as you muster every bit of strength to stand up and get into his face. "I didn't, you asshole. Don't kid yourself!"
Another pleased smile graces his lips. "Really? You didn't like it every time I called you a good girl? You didn't get more wet every time I told you I'd reward you with my cock?" He inches his face closer to yours, leaving just an inch of a gap.
"Do not kid yourself, _____." His voice drops a pitch as you feel the shift in him, goosebumps breaking on your skin. "You call me names but deep down you know you are a filthy slut and you loved being treated that way."
No. No, you didn't.
Or did you?
"Shut up!" You yell, pushing him with all your might as he stumbles a few steps back. There's a little pause in the air before his eyes meet yours as he pushes his glasses over the bridge of his nose.
"You want me to shut up because you know that it's the truth, _____-"
"Stop psychoanalyzing me!" You hiss, a fresh coat of tears blurring your vision. "Look at yourself, you twisted fucking jerk!"
You push past him as you try to stomp away but his hand catches your arm at the last second, tugging your body close to him. He leans down, his breath hovering on your ear as he whispers. "You better watch your mouth, cherry or I'll show you just how twisted I am. And you might not live to even see through it."
A bucket of ice-cold water seems to wash over you as you realize the gravity of the situation. For the first time since meeting Wonwoo, you're actually scared for your life, especially when you gaze into his pitch black pupils and the little flash of teeth peeking between his lips. Even though his grip on your arm is ironclad, you yank your arm away with all your strength and start running away from him, your heart thudding loudly in your ribcage.
You dash straight out of the library and you only stop until you're in front of a convenience store far enough. Falling on your knees, you catch your breath as you pant heavily, eyes scanning around to make sure he didn't follow you.
A new sense of fear and doom settles over you as you start to realize you might have walked into a situation that may not allow you to get out.
Alive, at least.
What's worse is that a part of you is actually excited.
XI.
Sorry guys, I cannot be doing today's and next week's livestream due to some personal problems. Please understand. Thank you!
You post the notice on your camming page and lean back in your chair, exhaling a loud sigh. The past night has been tiring with the constant struggle of being alert and a dreadful paranoia that won't leave you alone. Jeon the twisted Wonwoo keeps reappearing in your thoughts, haunting you whatever you do.
Within minutes after your post, you get a notification of an inbox and you don't have to see it to know it's the one and only, Jeon psycho Wonwoo.
[nerdycatboy]: Must have really scared you, eh?
You stare at it for a while, thinking of something snarky to reply but nothing comes up so you just decided to ignore it.
He doesn't give up.
[nerdycatboy]: Don't be scared, cherry. We've had so much fun until now. You know it deep down.
Why ignore the obvious?
You sigh, rubbing your temples.
You really need a break from all this. From him.
[you]: Can you leave me alone for one day? Please?
He doesn't text back for a while.
[nerdycatboy]: Since I'm feeling kind, sure. I won't bother you for the next twenty-four hours. We'll talk after you've regained some of your composure and hopefully your senses.
[nerdycatboy]: Because deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.
[nerdycatboy]: Sweet dreams, little cherry.
His message radiates a type of threat the longer you stare at it and your mind starts to go haywire. So you shut your laptop off and lie in your bed in silence, his words repeating over and over in your head like a mantra.
Deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.
Yes, yes you do know that. And you feel absolutely horrible for it. Who in their sane mind would allow an unhinged, deadly man to humiliate and low-key blackmail them online for some twisted form of entertainment?
You, for sure.
Your issues run deep, girl.
You mentally shake your head at the situation. If you're attracted to a man like that there has to be something wrong with you, no? But what is worse is deep down, you don't want to stop. You want to push and push and take it to the very end, extremely curious to see what is in store for you with Wonwoo.
Nothing dull, for sure.
And as if you needed more proof; you end up seeing the man even in your dreams, where he does unspeakably filthy things to you and you only beg for more.
XII.
Sunday afternoon, when you're done soaking in the tub for a good hour while enjoying a much needed glass of wine, you sit on your robe and do your skincare when your doorbell rings.
You're confused because you aren't expecting anyone. However, when you peer into the peephole your confusion flips into terror and panic as you see Wonwoo standing.
You must be seeing things, right?
No, you realize, once you double check.
What do you do now? Pretend you're not at home? Tell him to fuck off? Call the police?
You're being too dramatic, your subconscious rolls her eyes.
But your emotions are valid because you have been ignoring texts from the man. True to his words he gave you just twenty four hours before starting to send you messages again that you were too overwhelmed and cowardly to open. Now you're realizing what a horrible decision that was.
Shaking off the thoughts you straighten up and square your shoulders, taking a deep breath as you open the door.
Wonwoo stands there, looking unfairly good, dressed in a plain loose white tee and dark blue jeans, his black hair falling messily on his forehead, a few strands lying on top of his steel-framed glasses.
You briefly wonder if you have a glasses kink, if there is even such a thing.
He stands there looking so boyfriend material, it devastates you, making you wonder if this is an alternate universe where you're a 'normal' couple.
Because he definitely doesn't look like a sadistic, anti-social, slightly psycho nutjob right now. And it messes up your brain chemistry badly.
"Hi," your voice is akin to a mouse squeaking as you feel hot all over.
"Hello, _____." His voice is so sinfully deep.
Why is acting so normal? Like he's a classmate here to do an assignment with you?
"I... wasn't expecting you..." You stumble over your words.
"You weren't replying to my messages so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Make sure you're okay, you know? Our last meeting really shook you up."
You really can't tell if he's teasing you or being genuine but the delusional part of you takes it as a genuine effort.
"May I come in?"
"Of course!" You blink, moving to make way for him. He walks past you, leaving a trail of his cologne wafting in the air that creates a sudden urge within you to grab onto him and sniff him like a dog.
Yeah, you have serious issues.
You follow him awkwardly as he looks around your small space.
"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee...water?" Somehow offering him wine right now doesn't feel appropriate.
"Tea, please. Black."
Why is he being so...nice? So normal? Is this the climax of his games? Murdering you in your own home after sweet talking you? After making you drop your guards? You shake your head at the possibility and watch the kettle as it heats the water, waiting for him to initiate a conversation which he doesn't.
This is suffocating.
When you offer him the steaming mug he murmurs a thanks and then asks, "Where's your setup? I'd like to see it."
Uh oh.
"Uhm," you fiddle with your fingers, suddenly nervous. "It's in my bedroom."
"Mind giving me a tour?" His face doesn't give away any malicious intent but then again, he has always been great at keeping a blank face. If anything, he genuinely sounds curious.
Sighing, you guide him to your bedroom. The room is decent size with your bed on one side and your setup on the other. It's nothing fancy, just your pc and your huge, comfortable chair.
"When I film I put up a screen behind me and turn on some lights, you know," you mumble trying to fill the void. He looks around carefully before casually taking a seat on your bed and sipping on his tea.
"It's pretty. Like you, little cherry." His eyes connect with yours and your skin breaks out in goosebumps.
He's so... attractive. Everything about him. His looks, his voice, his attitude, his low-key psychotic persona.
"Take a seat, I won't bite." He says, his signature smirk finally appearing as you shudder before tentatively sitting next to him on your bed, still keeping a few inches of space.
"How did you find my address?" You ask softly.
He shrugs, drinking his tea, "Did some snooping around."
Not surprising. Not unlikely of him either.
"Have you thought about what I said, little cherry? About what you really want?" He asks, his voice a deep timbre as he sets down the mug on your bedside table.
Oh boy, we're not beating around the bush.
"Are you seriously here to talk about that?"
"Answer my question." The way he says those words make you weak in the knees.
"Yes," you swallow, not breaking eye contact with him. A pleased smile graces his soft pink lips and you're hit with the sudden temptation of kissing them.
"And what is your conclusion?" He asks, leaning closer to you, his scent making your brain hazy. One of his fingers traces over your cheekbone and then past your jaw to your neck.
It's electrifying.
''W-what if I want nothing to do with you?" You whisper. He laughs quietly before whispering in your ear, "That is not an option because we both know that's the last thing you want, little girl."
Little girl. Your insides swoon.
His face is now inches apart from yours, his fingers caressing your cheek oh so softly as he watches you with those dark, seductive eyes of his.
It doesn't take a second for you to make your decision.
"Will...will you kiss me, Wonwoo?" You croak.
He arches a surprised brow before smiling in great pleasure as he leans back to watch you. "You are always a surprise, _____. Only if you say please."
"Please."
"Good girl," he praises and that's almost enough to make you come. He wastes no time, cupping both of your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. Fireworks go off in your head. Your hands move to clutch his shoulders and a soft needy moan escapes your lips when you feel how solid they are.
Holy mother of gods, you need to get dicked down by him.
Immediately.
Wonwoo's tongue explores every bit of your mouth as his hands grab your jaw and neck tighter, his body shuffling close to deepen the kiss. You become a puppet and let him play with you as you melt in his arms, letting him lead however he wants to.
When you two break apart you're panting heavily. Wonwoo watches you with glinting eyes, his pink lips slightly swollen like yours as his thumb traces over your lips. You subconsciously open them and he pushes his thumb in, making you suck on his digit.
You do so eagerly, not breaking eye contact with him. Heat pools in your belly as his nostrils flare and he grunts. "You're a wicked little minx you know that, little cherry?"
I can be whatever you need, you inwardly purr as you give him a particular hard suck before he takes it back.
"You want my cock? Is that what you're trying to say?" He questions, standing up and tilting your chin to meet his gaze.
You can only nod, breathless with anticipation.
"I need words, ______. You're not mute." His voice is commanding, and scolding, which makes you even wetter.
"Please fuck me, Wonwoo."
He grins. An evil, victorious grin.
"Good girl. Stand up." You do so and he tugs the belt on your robe, making it fall open in a fluid motion. Your hands move to cover yourself but he glares at you in warning, making you stop halfway.
"Don't be shy now." He whispers, letting the material fall off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked. "I've seen this pussy on camera already, no?"
You swallow as his fingers trace between your legs and then easily slips one finger in due to your wetness. You sigh in pleasure while he lets out a satisfied hum.
"Tell me," he cups your pussy, thumb stroking your clit as you shudder. "How many men have touched this before me?"
You shake your head. "N-no one."
He tilts his head, a wry smile on his face. "Are you telling me I'm your first, baby?"
You nod, slightly shaking.
"Fuck, you just made me ten times harder. I'm gonna have much more fun defiling you now."
You gulp, stuck in a trance as you let him guide you back to bed with a hard push. You land on your back and watch Wonwoo take his tee off and boy, is that a sight. Your thighs automatically press together when his sculpted body comes into view and the sight of his broad shoulders makes you clutch the bedsheets in a tight fist.
However, something catches your eye; a patch of scarred skin right on his left abdomen, spreading from the front to his back and if you had to guess you'd say it is a burn mark. You don't get to think about it long because he's distracting you with a kiss.
"Like what you see?" He's cocky.
You nod, eyes settling on the bulge in his jeans, waiting for him to take it off so that you can see the object of your desires.
Alas, he has other plans for you.
"Open your legs, little cherry."
They fall apart on command as Wonwoo gets comfort between them, one of his hands trailing over your breasts and your belly while the other softly strokes your sopping wet core. It's embarrassing how easily he can slip two fingers deep inside you. "So fucking wet, you dirty whore." He muses with a smirk.
God, you love his voice.
Your moans rise in pitch as his fingers develop a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you in precise, perfect movements. Your release is so close you can taste it.
Automatically, your hips rise off the bed as your body tilts itself upward for a little stimulation on your clit. Wonwoo takes notice of it and laughs, "Aw, little whore is gonna come so soon? You want me to do this?"
The brush of the pad of his finger is enough to set you off as you scream and let your release wash over you. Your toes curl as you fist the sheets hard enough to almost rip them, riding out your high while he continues to plunge his digits in and out of you.
Once you finally get to catch your breath, he pulls them out and pops the fingers in his mouth, making a show of licking them.
You shudder, your body preparing for another round as moisture gathers between your legs once again.
"Fucking delicious." He grins, making you heat up all over. There is nowhere to hide, your whole body on display for him and he doesn't mask his appreciation as he drinks up every naked inch of you with a devouring gaze.
"Please, f-fuck me," you're not shy about begging as the need for his cock worsens.
"Oh I will," he promises, taking off his glasses and setting them down on your bedside table. Without much thinking your fingers trail over his chiseled abdomen and then down, over the tent of his pants as you fiddle with the button, trying to open it. Wonwoo amuses you for a while before batting your hand away, glaring at you. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"
You bite your lip and shake your head no.
"That's right." His voice is calm as he watches you for a few beats, hungry eyes trained on your lips before his right hand suddenly comes to wrap around your throat.
Your breath stutters as you watch him, wide eyed.
"Touch me again without permission and you won't be coming anytime soon." He threatens, tightening the grip on your throat as your airflow gradually decreases, making you feel fuzzy. You should be scared for your life, but you aren't, instead, the action only makes you wetter as you rub your thighs and mewl and beg with your eyes to ease the ache.
He listens.
Letting you go, he gets off the bed and takes off his pants and boxers, while your brain and lungs catch up due to the lack of oxygen. You blink and gulp when you see how blessed he is in length and girth, your breathing irregular.
Smirking at your reaction, he gets back on the bed and traps you beneath him, amusement and satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "I don't think you'll need any more prepping," he muses, trailing his fingers to your pussy and dipping one in the collect your arousal. You vehemently shake your head yes.
He laughs. "Hungry for cock, slut?"
"Y-yes." You whisper, breathless, wide eyed, needy.
Wonwoo leans down to nip on your jaw and your neck as he aligns himself with your entrance. Then, a thought comes to you.
"We... don't have a condom..."
"I'm clean, little cherry. Besides, there's no way I'd not take this virgin cunt bare." His words are vile and his smile is diabolical, sending shivers down your spine. It's alarming how attractive you find his insanity.
"Hold on to me. Bite my shoulder if it hurts too much." That's all the warning you get and not enough time to process as he shoves his cock inside you in one go. A loud wail erupts from your throat as tears burn your eyes, your nails digging into Wonwoo's biceps as you cling to him for dear life.
"So fucking tight." His voice is hoarse as he remains still for a few seconds, letting you catch your breath. The pain of the stretch doesn't ease up but the man on top of you isn't too bothered. He starts thrusting, slow, small thrusts at first as you rest your head in the crook of his neck and hold him tight, breathing harshly.
Soon, his pace increases, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars and your toes curl. Feeling you tighten around him, he chuckles, "You like that? You like it when I hit here?" He punctuates by thrusting you right there once again and you scream.
"Yes! Harder!"
He scoffs. "Such a slut. How did you survive so long without a dick shoved up inside you, huh?" He leans back, prying your body off of him and grabs both your cheeks in one hand, puckering your lips. "Want it harder? Say please."
"P-please," you manage to utter despite his strong grip on your jaw. Your cheeks ache from how hard he grabs you but you're once again surprised by how much the pain turns you on.
"Open your mouth," he commands, intense eyes trained on you, his pace never faltering. You are not going to last very long, you realize.
You follow his command and open your mouth as he eases his grip and stunning you, he spits right into your mouth.
"Swallow it, little whore." He orders, making your pussy clench deliciously. You once again do as you're told.
"You loved that, didn't you?" He scoffs. "You are a real treat, little cherry. You're fucking perfect." His hands wrap around your throat, almost as leverage as his pace becomes wild, driving in and out of you so fast, the bed starts shaking.
"I'm..gonna come." You whisper. The pressure building inside you is about to burst and you can't hold it any longer. Not resuming his pace or bothering to acknowledge your words, Wonwoo keeps on going while slithering a hand down to your core, where he flicks your clit before roughly pinching it.
You go off like a rocket.
The pleasure is mind-numbing, making you arch off the bed with a wail. It's like a tsunami of pleasure has crashed onto you and it only amplifies when you feel him swell inside you before releasing himself. Your pussy is coated with warm bursts of his cum as your body continues to shake, still riding the wave of your high.
You feel him pull out, his cum trickling out of your spent hole as you still float back down to earth and before you can let out a sigh of relief that it is over, he's spreading your legs as wide as they can go, getting you in a spread eagle position.
"Keep your legs like that, slut." He commands, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and fierce that once again lights up the fire in your core.
What has this man done to you?
You're insatiable, riding a never ending lust filled high as you watch the insanely hot man on top of you. His hair is messier now and there's a light sheen of sweat on his body that only adds to the appeal.
You don't know if you want to devour him or be devoured by him.
"I'm not done with you yet." He murmurs, watching you with dark eyes as he strokes his cock. "Look at your blood on my cock, little cherry. Isn't that a sight?" He grins, flashing his teeth.
Goosebumps rake down your spine.
"I always loved blood but having you bleed on my cock? This is just incomparable, sweetheart." He pushes a couple of his fingers coated in your blood and his cum and shoves them into your mouth. You're all too eager to lick them clean without a second of delay.
Your tongue dances on his digits, licking them clean and tasting the metallic, bitter flavor before he pops them off your lips. Then, once again leaving you flabbergasted, he slaps you on the right cheek. It doesn't hurt bad but it stings and you're ashamed of how much you liked it.
The evil smile is back on his face. "You like that?" He smacks your other cheek and you nod eagerly. At this point you realize, there's nothing this man can do to you that you wouldn't like.
"You're an absolute fucking piece, little cherry. I'm so glad I snatched you up. Couldn't let any other man have you, could I?"
He kisses your jaw before moving towards your neck, sniffing as he goes. "You smell so addictive. So... mine." He muses as he sucks on the tender spot on your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.
"Please, Wonwoo..." You are desperate and your legs hurt from staying wide open. The plea reaches his ears as he sits back and puts his fingers in his mouth, wetting them before shoving them inside your sore yet throbbing pussy. He plunges them in and out for a while, pushing his cum back inside you and watching with a smirk how your mouth falls open in pleasure.
And then he thrusts himself in. You know this time it is gonna be quick with his extra fast movements as he holds your calves for leverage and pounds in and out of you restlessly. You're on the brink of losing your sanity with how good he feels, unceremonious moans and gasps continuously leaving your mouth.
Suddenly a smack graces you on the cheek, making your body jerk and pussy tighten. It takes a while to realize Wonwoo has slapped you again and once you do so, you eagerly wait for another. Unlike last time, your cheek heats up from the force and you can actually feel the flesh burn but gosh, do you not love it any less.
"Dirty fucking slut. Letting me treat you however I want. You love it, no? You love the pain?" He hisses, brows furrowed as his pace starts to falter. You nod eagerly moving your hips against his, desperately chasing your end.
Two punctuated thrusts on your g-spot and you come without any warning. Once again, you feel like you're launched into outer space as your entire body jerks, leaving you gasping for air. Wonwoo releases himself all over your stomach and tits this time, soft groans of pleasure falling from his lips.
It's addictive.
Everything about this man is addictive.
He is the sweetest form of darkness, here to drag you down to hell with him. And you have no complaints.
That is your last coherent thought before you fall into a peaceful slumber.
XIII.
The next day, Wonwoo sits next to you in class, acting like his usual self, like he didn't blow your back out last night. He stays mostly quiet and keeps to himself, focusing on the lecture and taking notes. However, underneath the desk, his hand holds your thigh in a possessive grip, his fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh.
It is safe to say you don't get to focus much on the lesson.
After the class, you and Wonwoo grab a cool drink and sit on one of the benches laid throughout the campus field.
You are still processing the events of last night and seeing how he hasn't mentioned it even once, you wonder if it was all your imagination.
No, it was all too real to be untrue.
As you sit next to him and chew on your straw, you wonder how you should approach the subject. Wonwoo, who has been silently enjoying his drink suddenly speaks, just as you get your thoughts together. It, however, is the last thing you expected him to say.
"Did I ever tell you about how I murdered a man?"
Your body turns into a block of ice as you whip your head towards Wonwoo, who sits with his elbows resting on his knees, an impassive look on his face. Silently, you blink a few times, waiting, just to make sure you didn't hear him wrong.
He is kidding.
Right?
He tilts his head to face you, a wry chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head at your expression. "Come on now, little cherry, don't look so shocked."
You cough and look away, a lame attempt to mask your expression. "I don't want to know anything I should not know." You murmur, looking down at the ground. "Besides, you're joking, right?"
"No, I'm not." He laughs a little, before exhaling loudly. "I also doubt you'd tattle on me. Who would fuck you so good like last night if I went to jail?"
His words make you squirm in your seat.
"Besides, it's a really interesting story. One I've never told anyone before."
Should you feel honored?
Wonwoo seems to take your silence as a yes because he starts narrating. "Once upon a time, there was a man. An alcoholic, pathetic excuse of a man who did terrible things to a woman, my mother. I was very young when it started. He'd beat the shit out of her for every little reason. It would only get worse when he got drunk, which was more often than not. Sometimes he'd lock her up in the basement and keep her naked and unfed. One time, when I was about ten years old, he broke every finger on her right hand just because the dinner wasn't served on time."
You have stopped breathing by now, as you sit in absolute silence, your limbs immobile as if you are paralyzed. You have a very good idea of where this story is going and how it might end. That should make you want to get up and leave but you just can't bring yourself to, as you sit mute and take occasional tentative peeks at the man next to you.
"That was the first time I stood up to him. My mother had passed out from the pain and I yelled at him and pushed him which made him take it out on me too. He hadn't hit me ever before. But that night, he kept on going till the dawn, as if making up for all the times he didn't."
He falls silent for a few moments and you take a chance to peek at him. As always, it's impossible to read him, his face an emotionless canvas and his eyes emptier than a desert, lost somewhere in his dark memories. You can't help but wonder if he feels any pain or remorse as he recalls his traumatic past. If he does, how can he mask it so well?
"Six months after that, my mother fell off the roof of our building. The police concluded it as suicide because they found out she was drunk. But she wasn't."
"The night before, as always, the pathetic loser came home drunk and smashed things around for a while. There was a ruby necklace that my grandmother gave to my mother when she got married. That night, he was asking for it because he needed immediate cash and my mother wouldn't give it. She probably had enough because that was the only night she stood up against him and she protested hard. I remember her smashing a bottle on his head. Of course, he wouldn't let that slide but something was different about him that night. He was more despairing, more evil. He slapped her around a few times before choking her until she passed out. I can still hear his words in my head.
I'll get rid of you tonight bitch.
I'll get rid of you for good."
He then took out a bunch of booze and ordered her to drink them, saying that if she resisted, I'd get the beatings. She obeyed him and I only watched, as I always did and he kept forcing her to drink till she couldn't utter a coherent word or couldn't even remain seated. Once she passed out from all the booze he came to me and patted my head. With the evilest of smiles, he said,
"Go to your room. You don't need to learn everything so early."
"Then he locked me in his bedroom and didn't let me go until the morning. By then the police had come and removed her body. Those imbeciles decided it was suicide and ended the investigation just like that.
I could have told them that it was a murder but I didn't. My mother's death stunned me so much that I couldn't speak for the next few months and the asshole used it to his advantage. He acted like the best father and husband in front of the police but then came and took out all his anger and frustration on me."
He finally pauses to take a look at you and your face must have been an open book because he chuckles, "Why do you look so pale already? I haven't even gotten to the best part yet."
You want to tell him that you look pale not because of the story but because you feel sad for the fucked up man sitting next to you and his fucked up childhood. Even though he has yet to reveal how his father died you have already convinced yourself that he deserved it.
"A year went by like that." Wonwoo continues. "My mother was gone and I was the new punching bag for the asshole. He'd beat me up almost every day but he wasn't that dumb. He would never hit me in the face because I went to school and people could ask questions. I endured it all, in fact, I might have even started to crave it. I started to think I deserved it and so I took it...until one afternoon. I had just gotten home from school. He was sitting in the living room, drinking and watching TV. He seemed to be in an okay mood so I showed him my report card and asked him to sign it so that I could submit it the next day. He was quiet for a while until he saw my marks in English.
He took a bottle of booze and poured it all over my report card, saying a loser like me is better off without one. Something snapped inside of me and I yelled at him. So he broke that bottle on my head and stuffed that wet report card into my mouth and started beating me up.
After he was done he told me to get him a glass of water and go out to buy more beer for him. There was a nearby store that knew us and let me purchase alcohol. At that moment I made a split-second decision. I went to the kitchen, grabbed some rat poison and mixed it in his water before giving it to him. When he passed out I went back into the kitchen and pulled out the gas pipe and turned the knob open, letting it leak all over. I then lit a match and watched as the entire house caught on fire in seconds. I got burned too, as you can tell from the scars you saw last night. I ran out and sat on the other side of the road, just watching the fire spread. The thought of him burning alive in there brought me so much pleasure that I forgot my own pain.
It was right after noon and we lived in a relatively deserted area so it took a while for people to find out and call the police. They never suspected me because why would a twelve year old set his house on fire? The neighbors also testified that the asshole was an alcoholic so the police concluded it as another accident."
He concludes with a loud exhale. Turning his head to face you, he smirks wryly, "And that's how I successfully got away with my first murder."
You are left with a loss of words so you just give him a shaky nod and stare down at your legs, trying to process everything.
A few beats of silence seem to pass before Wonwoo reaches for your chin and uses it to tilt your face up. He smirks, "Scared of me now, aren't you?"
You sigh, gently removing your chin from his grip. "No, Wonwoo, I'm not. You did what you had to survive. It's admirable how you held on for so long."
For the first time, you see an emotion vividly on his face; shock. His eyes widen and his lips part to a little 'o' as he gapes at you, stunned. His reaction evokes some sort of longing within yourself as you reach for his hand and hold it between yours. "I am not scared of you because there is nothing to be. You were a little boy and you had gone through so much. It's fucked up but you did it to survive and you've come so far-"
"I don't want your pity and I don't want you to psychoanalyze me." He hisses, cutting you off as he yanks his hand away from your grip. You can see the fierce anger in his gaze so you shake your head.
"I am not pitying you and neither am I psychoanalyzing you. Trust me, I am in no position to do that. Especially because I believe that that man was an absolute piece of garbage and he deserved what you have done to him, if not worse. I would have done the same, Wonwoo, long ago. You held on for so long. That makes you a survivor, not a bad guy."
Your words seem to sink into him as he remains quiet, watching you with careful yet wondrous eyes. You sigh, realizing that he probably isn't believing you so you decide to give him, and yourself, some space.
Just as you stand up, he yanks you down by your hand, making you fall awkwardly onto his lap. Then, before your brain can catch up, he kisses you, rough and fast.
His lips smash with yours as he holds a strong grip on your neck, angling your face to his advantage. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, colliding with yours as your body goes lax and you give into him. It's like an aphrodisiac— his kiss, his touch, that makes you lose your guard as you fall deeper and deeper into an abyss.
When he pulls back, you are both panting heavily for air. "Do you realize what you just said?" He grunts, those fox-like eyes staring at you making your toes curl and your insides swirl. In a daze, you hum, "Hmm?"
"You'd make a great accomplice for a murder, no?" He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip while you keep staring at his lips. All coherent thoughts and senses have left your body long ago as you find yourself swimming in the sweetest poison that is Wonwoo.
"More." You breathe.
He smirks, that evil, confident smirk of his that makes your panties wet. Once again, he starts moving before you can process anything, dragging you behind him and straight to one of the storage rooms in a nearby building. You follow him blindly and as soon as the door is locked, he pins you against the wall and between himself, effectively trapping you. Yet, there is nowhere you want to escape to.
"You are an enigma, you know that, little cherry?" He whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw as his hands work on unbuttoning your top. He quickly takes it off along with your bra before taking a step back and yanking your skirt down. The zipper on the waist lets out a groan of protest that falls onto your deaf ears as you remain too busy ogling the ungodly hot man in front of you.
"Take me out."
Your body is on autopilot as you immediately undo his belt and pull down the zipper.
"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. Wrap your legs around me." He commands as one of his hands holds you below your thigh while the other positions himself on your entrance.
And before you can blink, he's inside you. The initial stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud gasp of pain but it's quick to dull. One of his hands covers your mouth, his dark eyes indicating you to remain silent while he starts to move in and out of you.
Oh boy, is it hard to remain silent.
Especially, when you can feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you ruthlessly, making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.
"Gosh, you're such a slut, letting me fuck you against a wall, in a store room." Wonwoo grits, a twisted smirk on his lips as his gaze roams over your face leisurely. "What if someone comes in right now, huh? What if they see you bouncing your pretty ass on my cock?"
"Mmph," you try to moan, the image sending short circuits to your brain. Wonwoo chuckles, loving your reaction. "You'd like that, won't you? You're one filthy little slut, my cherry." He grins after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl.
"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, touch me."
The man only smiles, a cruel, mocking smile as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall behind you before thrusting once, twice, so hard that your back starts aching. Though you can't bring yourself to complain because the next moment his release is filling you up, making you moan unceremoniously.
When you think he's now gonna help you get off, the man only releases you and starts fixing himself up leaving you panting against the wall awkwardly, with the worst ache between your legs.
"W-what about me?" You croak.
"Sluts don't get to come so easily." Wonwoo smirks, throwing a look your way before walking out of the storeroom. You slide down the wall, absolutely livid, the urge to punch something growing very intense.
Something like his face.
That goddamn infuriating man!
Maybe you should just get yourself off.
"And don't think about touching yourself without me. I'll know if you do and trust me, you don't wanna make me mad." His head pops back in as he opens the door to warn you before disappearing once again.
"Fuck!" You're screaming now. "Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo!"
XIV.
Over time, you start to grow close to Wonwoo. Definitely closer than you'd expect to be with a person like him. It also doesn't help that you have a silly little crush on him and every little thing he does makes your heart flutter. Like the way he'd always put the helmet on you carefully before riding on his bike, brush your hair away from your face with soft fingers, and pull you closer to his body when you walk down a busy sidewalk.
Jeon Wonwoo was in no way boyfriend material but his little gestures, which he probably did thoughtlessly made you think he was the perfect man for you.
While things were going breezy with Wonwoo, a new problem seems to have appeared. Jacob Lee, a classmate of yours has been on your tail nonstop for the past few days, acting all friendly and touchy with you when in reality you've never spoken to him before, only seen him around the campus.
And speaking of the devil, he appears, just as you are finishing up your study session in the library one afternoon.
"_____!" His voice makes you sigh exasperatedly. "Hey! I was looking for you!"
You give him a fake smile and instead focus on packing your stuff, knowing Wonwoo will be here soon. He has asked you to stay overnight at his place for a class project but you doubt how much you'll be working on that project.
The thought of his hands all over you makes you embarrassingly excited.
"I sent you a friend request last night, didn't you see?"
Yes, and I'm not interested. You give me the creeps.
Which was the truth. You have heard a few rumors about Jacob, not good things for sure and the way he approaches you, invading your personal space like a bulldozer certainly makes you wary of him.
"Ah really? I'm not quite active these days. Projects and all, you know?" You try to avoid eye contact with him as he takes the seat right next to you, leaning much too close for your liking. "And...I don't really accept requests unless they're my close friends."
"Heyyy," he nudges your arm, a huge grin on his face. "How can we become close friends unless you accept my request?"
Oh god.
You sigh, internally rolling your eyes as you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "You know, I'm in a hurry, actually. Wonwoo is waiting for me-"
"Is he your boyfriend?"
"What?" You blink, albeit stunned.
"Are you dating Wonwoo?" He asks, his tone sharp, as he stands up and steps closer to you, brows knotted in a frown.
Seriously, what is up with this guy?
"Why do you ask?" You question instead.
He rolls his eyes. Instead of answering you, he speaks, "He's a boring dude. If you really need a man you should let me—"
"Yes, she's dating me." Wonwoo interrupts all of a sudden. You spin around to find him standing behind you, a very annoyed look on his face as he glowers at Jacob. If looks could kill he'd be dead by now.
His hand wraps around your waist, tugging you next to his body and you can't help but swoon a little as you melt in his embrace. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and sigh giddily.
The comfort and safety his arms provide are astounding.
"It doesn't really matter if you say I'm boring because she seems to find me interesting enough," Wonwoo says, his tone challenging, dark eyes focused on Jacob whose face now appears grim.
"Since we have established that she's mine," he emphasizes his words by tugging you even closer, "You should keep your hands to yourself and mind your business, hmm? Being nosy can get you hurt, you know."
Jacob's lips are pressed into a thin line as he glares at Wonwoo who ignores him and turns around, tugging you with him as you both walk out of the library.
As soon as you are outside, you step out of his arms and raise a brow at the man. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"That? You were like...staking your claim or something."
"I was. You're mine." He says simply.
Heat blooms throughout your face. Butterflies run wild in your stomach.
Damn.
"Whatever," you try to play it cool by rolling your eyes and pushing past him. Wonwoo, however, grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms and whispers in your ear.
"You don't seem to agree, little cherry. Let's go home so that I can show just how much you are mine." His knuckles trail over your jaw, then down your neck before grabbing it, a predatory glint in his eyes.
You can't stop the satisfied grin from appearing on your face as you scream on the inside.
XV.
"Hey, I'm really sorry about the last day." A voice says from behind you and you turn around to find Jacob standing rather awkwardly.
You are going through your notes in the library when you are interrupted.
Raising a brow of confusion, you blink at him.
Jacob scratches his head. "Uh...I overstepped that day, you know. You're obviously a couple and I was trying to overstep my boundaries. I'm really sorry about that."
Well, that's a development.
"It's alright." You give him a small smile. "And thank you for apologizing."
"It's all good if you've accepted my apology." He smiles. "Also, I was hoping you could do me a favor?"
"Sure?" You say, not quite sure.
"You see, I'm having a bit of a problem with the latest assignment. Could you help me with that, please? Just take a look at my draft?" He chuckles nervously, as if ashamed. "After all, the professor did say that you had the best research paper among all of us."
Ah.
"Yeah, sure I can help you with that."
"Great! Thanks a lot, ____. Could you perhaps come with me to my car? My notes are in there. Just take a quick look and I'll let you be on your way."
You nod as you pack your belongings and follow him to the parking lot behind the library. Once you two are in front of your car, Jacob holds the door open for you, motioning you to get inside. You raise a confused brow at him.
There is a shift in him as he suddenly produces a knife from his pocket and holds it against your stomach. He grits in your ear, "Now be a good girl and get in the car, ______. Try to do anything to attract any attention and ill fucking gut you."
"Jacob, please-''
"Get in the fucking car, _____. And lock the door once you are inside."
Shaking, you do as you are told and watch him get inside the driver's seat.
"Why are you doing this?" You whisper.
"Why do you think, cherry?" He spits. His words dump a bucket of ice cold water all over you as you come to the realization.
He knows.
He fucking knows.
He knows your secret.
"That's right, _____." The smirk on his face is cruel. "I randomly came across your channel one night. Of course, I didn't know it was you at first. But after a little bit of observing and putting things together, it wasn't hard to figure you out. And my suspicions were fully confirmed when your nerd of a boyfriend found your identity and started blackmailing you."
Oh my god.
A small, devastated gasp leaves your lips, making Jacob laugh. "Yeah. I saw you two that evening. I know everything, little cherry. All your dirty little secrets. But what I hate is that you let him have you, calling that dumb guy your boyfriend and whatnot, but you won't give me a chance? That's not fair, baby."
"You fucking stalker! You son of a-"
"Shut up!" He booms, holding the knife right in front of your eye. "You're going to shut the fuck up and let me have all the fun tonight, hmm? You're a slut, _____. Reading filthy things, showing yourself off on the internet and now you're acting like a prude in front of me? I can't tolerate that baby, I need a taste of you."
Oh god. You're going to throw up.
In a moment's decision, you try to attack him, reaching for his face and poking him in the eye while scratching his cheek. A struggle ensues while you try to writhe and kick out of his grasp but he's stronger, effectively holding you.
"Just go to sleep, little bitch. I'll take good care of you." He snickers, making your heart drop.
Oh no no no...
He smacks you in the back of the head twice with the butt of his knife, making your vision go blurry and your head spin. Your last thought is that you are doomed now.
XVI.
The back of your head is throbbing when you wake up. It takes a good few moments to get your brain and eyes to function and when you are somewhat coherent, you realize your wrists are tied together behind you, as you remain in a half laid position. Your whole body feels sore and taut as if you've been thrown around roughly.
"Finally, you're awake baby." The dreadful voice speaks. You tilt your head, despite the pain, to look at Jacob who is looming over you, smiling, a sick kind of excitement dancing in his eyes.
Your throat which was already parched, goes even drier.
"You're fucking sick." You croak, a jolt of pain going through your ribs as you try to move your body.
A slap lands on your cheek from nowhere, forcing you to fall on your side as you whine in pain.
"I told you to shut the fuck up!" He's yelling. "Do you know how hard it was to carry your body all the way here? I had to put you in the trunk, for fucks sake!" He complains, making you roll your eyes. "It would all have been fine if you'd just shut up and complied with me!"
He then grabs you by your hair, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. "I had to wait for the last hour for you to gain consciousness, baby. Despite my thoughts, I just couldn't get hard when you were lying still."
He says those words with a mock pout as if that's the most unfortunate thing in the world and your blood boils. "Fuck you, dickhead. I doubt your thing gets hard at all."
That earns you another slap, and another, followed by a lot of screaming and cursing from him.
You tune them out, trying to conjure a way out of this hell. The first person you think of is Wonwoo and your heart starts to ache. His classes should be done by now. Is he looking for you? Is he worried? Given his possessiveness, he definitely should be looking for you by now.
You only wish you had your phone somewhere nearby.
You look around the place, trying to spot anything that may distract this sicko and aid you with your escape. Unfortunately, this feels like an abandoned building and the only thing lying around are pieces of wood, splinters and a few metal rods. Which would serve as a good weapon, only if your hands were untied.
An idea forms in your head.
"I need to pee." You grunt, making Jacob raise a brow.
"Well then, do it." He shrugs before smiling. "You'll need to take your pants off anyway for what I'm about to do to you. Want me to help you with them, baby?"
So that definitely backfired.
Jacob approaches you, hands reaching for the button on your jeans as you writhe in protest, trying to crawl away from him. Your sore ribs protest heavily but you struggle against his grip, which only tightens the harder you protest.
You are so fucked.
"The more you fight, the harder I get, baby." He snickers in your ears, making you want to throw up.
Jacob manages to unbutton your jeans and as he is pulling down your zipper, you land a kick on his shin, making him fall on his ass with a grunt. His eyes flash dangerously at you.
"Maybe I should tie your legs too, huh? Just let me take these jeans off."
"Get your hands off of her. Right. Now." There's a sudden voice.
You both turn your head to find Wonwoo, to your utter relief, standing there, a menacing look on his face as his eyes bore into Jacob.
"Let her go." His voice is quiet.
To others, it may sound flat but you know Wonwoo and you know the look in his eyes very well. A shiver rolls down your spine and you try once again to loosen the ropes tying your wrists. If you aren't free soon, things are gonna get messy.
"The big bad boyfriend is here to save the day, no?" Jacob scoffs, swaying the knife around in his hand. "Whatcha gonna do, boyfriend?"
"You wouldn't wanna know." Wonwoo gives him a cold smile that gives even you, goosebumps. You try to mediate the situation. "Jacob, please, listen to me. This doesn't have to be like this. Just let me go and we can pretend this never happened."
"Shut up, you whore! I'm getting a taste of you today and I don't care whether it's next to your boyfriend's rotting corpse!" He screeches, pointing the knife at you.
Mentally, you shake your head.
This really isn't gonna end well.
A grunt echo through the air and it takes a few seconds for your fuzzy brain to realize that Wonwoo has punched Jacob. The latter tumbles onto the floor, groaning loudly, "You fucking asshole! You broke my nose!"
Wonwoo's face remains blank as he repeatedly keeps kicking Jacob's torso, not even letting him get up. When he's gasping for air, he steps back to take a good look at him before walking to the side and picking up a metal rod.
In the meantime, Jacob manages to stand up on wobbly legs and his eyes widen when he sees Wonwoo pick up the weapon. "You fucking psychopath. You really wanna die today, huh?" He scoffs before charging toward Wonwoo, the knife in his hand aiming for his face. Wonwoo dodges it by leaning back and just as Jacob is passing by him, he grabs his other arm, twisting it roughly before clutching the hand holding the knife.
Jacob yells in pain but doesn't back down and there is a struggle as they both try to overpower each other. Amidst that, the knife in Jacob's hand manages to cut a thin line on Wonwoo's cheek, making him release Jacob and take a few steps back.
Jacob chuckles, his smile looking exceptionally evil as blood runs down his nose and coats his teeth. "I'm gonna have so much fun carving up your pretty face, nerd."
Wonwoo watches him with calculative eyes, a wry, slight smirk on his face as he tilts his head on both sides, popping the veins in his neck.
You watch with bated breath, knowing it's gonna get ugly and it does as Wonwoo charges for Jacob, hitting his head in the first strike with the metal bar. Jacob falls to his knees, cupping the side of his head as a gush of blood flows out. Before he can stand back up, Wonwoo hits him again and again and again, three more times on his head before his body slumps onto the ground, passed out.
But that doesn't make Wonwoo stop as he continues with two more hits and you start yelling. "Wonwoo, stop! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"
He stops and his eyes meet yours. They are absolutely cold and empty, laced with an expression of that's-what-I-was-about-to-do and for a moment you think that he's gonna kill him right in front of you but he doesn't.
Surprising you, he drops the bar on the ground with a loud echo before calmly walking towards you and kneeling down to untie your wrists. You pant heavily, relieved and grateful as your eyes become teary when one of his hand cups your cheek tenderly, his eyes trained on the cut on your lips and the bruise on your cheek.
And to think that this man was being so violent seconds ago.
"Does it hurt badly?" He asks, eyes narrowing on your bruises. You immediately shake your head, not trusting your voice to speak.
You croak, "How did you find me?"
He scoffs. "Little cherry, you should have figured out by now how possessive I am of you." He tilts his head, giving you an isn't-that-obvious look. Yet, you're confused.
"You...you didn't actually put a—"
"Exactly," he smiles, almost proud. "I downloaded a tracker on your phone."
Holy shit. There's a lot to unpack but for now, you are totally grateful. So you just nod and clutch his arms tightly.
Your heart thumps loudly as the man wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you to stand up. The bruises on your body make it hard to do so but you manage with his help and gently he guides you out of the warehouse, picking up your scattered items lying in a corner and putting them in your bag before moving past Jacob's still body.
You turn your head back to observe if he's breathing and you notice the slow rise and fall of his chest, making you sigh in relief.
Wonwoo walks you both out of the compound before coming to a stop underneath a large banyan tree, right where he parked his bike.
"Call a taxi." He says as he hands you your bag. "Go to a hospital. I'll be there soon."
Your heart falls.
"W-what? W-where are you going?" You croak, hands immediately clutching the sleeves of his jacket. His hands gently hold you by the arm, a stark contrast to the look on his face, malicious, ruthless. "You don't leave loose ends, baby."
You almost choke on your saliva.
"Wha-what? No! You-"
His lips press against yours, effectively silencing you. One of his hand cups your cheek while the other laces around your waist, pulling your body next to his. Blindly you follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongue intertwines with his into a passionate kiss. It tastes like temptation, lust and a little bit metallic— from the blood on your lips and even though in the back of your mind you know how wrong this is, it feels like the most right thing of all time.
A while later Wonwoo pulls back as the haze of lust disappears from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.
"Do as you're told, ____. This isn't a request."
It isn't. It's a command.
Yet, as he turns around to head back into the warehouse, you cannot bring yourself to call a taxi. But you also cannot muster up to follow him back inside and watch him finish the job.
Blissful ignorance, as they like to call it.
Besides, there is no crime if there is no witness.
You try to tell yourself that you're staying in case Jacob manages to run away or worse, hurt Wonwoo or in case somebody comes around here.
So you make yourself comfortable underneath the tree and take a seat, even though your sore body protests in pain.
Seconds turn to minutes as they fly by and just like that half an hour is gone. The sky is now overcast with thick clouds, indicating an impending downpour that makes you worry.
There is no sign of Wonwoo yet.
When the first few drops of rain hit the ground, you manage to get yourself up after a little struggle and despite your ribs protesting, you start to take small steps towards the building.
Something must have gone wrong.
But you don't have to go too far because you see a tall figure approaching you from the other end and you realize it's Wonwoo. Your breath stutters as you stay still in your spot, waiting for him to take notice of you and come to you. He seems to be walking while in deep thought as his focus remains on the ground so you call for him.
"Wonwoo!"
His head snaps up as he regards you with wide eyes, standing still for a moment. Then he's running towards you, stepping on little puddles along the way.
"What are you still doing here!" His tone is sharp but you ignore it. Instead, your eyes scan his body for any injuries. He seems to appear fine— disheveled really, but still fine. There is a new cut on his forehead and there are specks of blood all over his face, neck and hands, especially his hands which are completely wet and coated in crimson.
You highly doubt it's his own blood. Still, your hands reach out for him and you find yourself asking, "Are you okay?"
Wonwoo glares at you. "You should have gone to a hospital by now, ____. You're hurt." You shake your head and instead cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the little specks of blood that are yet to wash away despite the pouring rain.
His eyes visibly soften as he sighs and shrugs off his jacket and puts it over your shoulders.
"You're gonna catch a cold." He whispers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body next to him.
"J-Jacob?" You whisper.
His eyes go empty for a few seconds before he gives you a small, evil smile, "I took care of him."
Your heart falls and you swallow, the gravity of the situation dawning on you.
"B-but the body-"
"Lot of wolves in that forest.'' He says, indicating the woods right behind the building. ''They'll finish the body."
He smirks, giving you a look. "I believe Jacob came here drunk and passed out and the wolves took him." He pins you down with a look that makes you shudder.
You're now an accomplice to murder.
Gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger, he tilts your head up. "Hey. Nobody will know...unless you tell them."
That's right. Nobody will know.
With a jerky nod, your eyes meet his and even though your limbs are sore, you lean on your tippy toes and pull his lips onto yours by cupping his cheeks. His lips taste like rain and blood, full of danger but oh so tempting. Your tongues dance in a haze of fiery lust and passion and by the time you two separate, you're a little dizzy.
You should really get to the hospital.
"I won't tell anyone," you whisper, stroking the nape of his neck.
"Because I have nothing to tell. Jacob got eaten by the wolves. It was just an accident, after all." You state, surprised at how calm you are.
A grin spreads across Wonwoo's face, evil, satisfied and proud. You can't also help but smile a little as he captures your lips for a quick kiss before murmuring, "You're perfect, you know that little cherry?"
You swoon. "Maybe you can remind me when we are home. After taking a trip to the hospital, of course."
"Let's go." He holds out his hand and you take it as you both walk to his bike. Blood still stains his fingertips but you don't care as they transfer on your hands too. Instead, you let him slowly guide you away from the building, from that sick asshole who isn't breathing anymore, thankfully.
When you look down your hands entangled with his, a sense of odd comfort settles over you.
Sure, this man is completely unhinged and dangerous but he's also perfect.
Perfect for you.
You're both a little unhinged and that's fine.
What matters is that you are safe now. With him.
Smiling in contentment, you bring your intertwined hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his bruised knuckles.
You are bloody, yet safe.
a/n: and hence, I chose the name Bloodily Safe! I know it isn't that good but istg I couldn't think of anything else😭.
this is, undoubtedly, the darkest fic I've written yet and somewhere in the middle I started questioning whether it'd be a good idea to release this. but the urge to share psycho Wonwoo with y'all won in the end lol. I blame pledis for this, we need an actor
Wonwoo in a villain role immediately!!!
I've left it as an open ending so I'm here to announce that yes, I am planning on writing another part of this, something like an extended epilogue where we focus more on Wonwoo. their feelings for each other also remain vague here and I've kept it so purposefully. it's up to each of your own interpretation. if you'd like to hear mine, do send an ask. I'm all ready to analyze and discuss our fav psycho wonwoo.
also, I've yet to proofread this thoroughly so there might be some errors.
that's it from me for now, thank you for taking the time to read this!
have a lovely day!
taglist: @exocommunicado-03 @becauseiloveyunho @seyoungparkk @shuabby1994 @reol-0 @therewillalwaysbearainbow @sdoulc @nadiaarzu @dinosolecito
@sweetiepiezz @vernonmabae @jejuboo-s @fairy-jojo @babystarcandykookie @kawaiimusiccollection @read2lips @yunhokami @knife-scream @just-here-to-read-01 @unwanted-15
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#seventeen#seventeen smut#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo smut#kpop smut#svt imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen angst
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𝐀 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬
*vision bored doesn't describe readers' looks it describes the vibes of the story*
Pairing: dark!stalker!Joel Miller x fem!reader
Summary: Life takes a sinister turn once you begin renovations on your old, eerie house. Strange occurrences start piling up—like missing security camera footage and mysterious messages from an unknown stalker. The tension really amps up when you stumble upon red roses, serving as a chilling reminder of the stalker's presence and danger. Despite trying to brush off the threats, the situation escalates when the stalker directly reaches out to you, leaving you fearing for your life and bracing for a potential confrontation.
IMPORTANT: This fic is based on haunting/hunting Adeline i do not claim or own any characters from the series I only used it as inspiration, all the credit to H.D Carlton for being an amazing inspiration and writer.
Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, stalking, breaking and entering, bondage (rope and tape), groping, grinding, fear, non/dub-con, rope burns, toxic people, degradation, praise, feet kink? (maybe kind of), pussy eating, fingering, spit, biting, clit biting, breeding kink, kissing, protected sex wrap it before you tap it, kids. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME
WC: 6.5k
Small things, it all started small. Ever since renovations started on the house, life has gotten strange. The old dark house didn't help much, but it was cheap to buy such a run-down place when you originally got it. It's worth more now that you've fixed up parts of it, but you still feel like it's dark once those cobweb-covered walls are watching you like you're something to be hunted, or like you're in a horror movie and aren't noticing the obvious hints of a killer.
And you weren't entirely sure you weren't avoiding a killer with how many small changes you saw around the house. Glasses were left on the counter, seemingly freshly poured, even if you didn't remember pouring any. Your nice scotch bottle had less fluid in it every time you checked it, yet whenever you wanted to check the cameras your friend Daphne suggested you put up for your safety, there was missing footage from certain hours of the day even during the night, whatever or whoever was doing these things was smart and calculated with every move. You don't even feel safe showering, Over a month of weird stuff, no face no answers just fear
The more you tried to be rational about how you couldn't have a stalker, the weirder things got. Like he wanted you to know he was there. You started picking up on little changes, the stuff you initially brushed off as maybe just your mind playing tricks on you. But then it became crystal clear when you kept finding those red roses laid out for you, no thorns in sight. Every time a red rose without thorns appeared, it felt sinister. You'd thought how considerate it was of the stalker to avoid using the thorns, but it felt more like a taunt like the person responsible wanted to remind you of their presence with every rose and to show you that they could easily hurt you, but chose not to.
Tonight wasn't any different. You came home from some grocery shopping to see three red roses sitting on your kitchen counter, trimmed and tied together. You groaned and put down the bags of groceries before tossing the roses completely, trying not to pay it any mind. You'd done that the past five times, hoping giving him no attention would make him go away. Your phone buzzed, interrupting your unpacking. You read the text message, and a chill ran down your spine when you realized it was from an unknown number.
Unknown: Do you not like roses?
You saw the message and dropped your phone, immediately scrambling to find something to defend yourself with. You ran to the knife block, grabbing a large, semi-sharp knife. You could worry about the melting ice cream tomorrow, not when your life was at stake. A stalker's murder attempt was imminent, and you weren't going down without a fight. Your phone buzzed again, indicating a new message from your stalker. Your muscles tensed as you carefully picked up your phone to check the message, feeling a sense of dread wash over you when you read it.
Unknown: I see you're taking precautions. But trust me, violence won't solve anything. Let's have a civilized conversation, shall we?
The audacity of the message sent shivers down your spine. How could this person be so calm, so composed, while installing such terror in your life? The thought of engaging in conversation with them made your skin crawl, but you knew ignoring them wasn't an option either.
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage. You replied with the knife still in hand, determined to stand your ground.
You: I don't want to talk. Leave me alone.
The response was almost immediate.
Unknown: Ignoring won't make me disappear. You can't escape me.
Your heart pounded in your chest, and the gravity of the situation intensified. The stalker's persistence was chilling, and you knew you needed to involve the authorities. As you dialed 911, another message flashed on your screen.
Unknown: Calling for help? It won't make a difference. I'm always one step ahead.
Fear tightened its grip on you, but you continued with the call, silently praying that law enforcement could indeed intervene in this sinister game. As you spoke with the emergency operator, your stalker's messages continued to flood in.
Unknown: You can't hide forever. I'll be watching, waiting.
Each message felt like a dagger, cutting through your sense of security. The operator assured you that help was on the way, but that didn't stop the ominous texts.
Unknown: The sirens won't save you.
The final message came through, short and ominous, making you block the number.
Unknown: Tick-tock.
You waited almost the whole night, but no one came. The silence was deafening, making you doubt that your stalker would make a move on you. Perhaps your fear has gotten the better of you, making you panic unnecessarily. Either way, you couldn't shake the feeling that danger was just around the corner, leaving you a bit on edge.
As days turned into weeks, the quiet dragged on, and you started second-guessing yourself. The fear kind of faded, replaced by this sort of 'what now?' feeling. A whole week passed, and you didn't spot a single red rose anywhere. The absence of any signs from your stalker had lulled you into a false sense of security, the fear becoming a distant memory. The red roses that once haunted your thoughts had blurred into the background, and life had cautiously resumed a semblance of normalcy.
Just when you thought the nightmare had ended, he resurfaced. On an ordinary day, as you hesitated at the threshold of your home, a cold shiver ran down your spine and you saw something on the ground. You squinted at it for a moment before realizing what it was; a few red roses, perfectly trimmed and tied together with string. Your phone buzzed. You gasped, your heart racing as you realized that the rose had to be from your stalker.
Unknown: "A week is a long time to go without hearing from me, don't you think?”
Your fear grew as you considered possible reasons for your stalker's sudden absence. They'd been relentless with the red roses until now, constantly reminding you of their presence through the ominous messages tied to them. So why would they wait an entire week before finally breaking the silence? Was it a psychological game meant to make you believe you were safe long enough to let your guard down? Perhaps they'd been watching your house, waiting for a good opportunity to strike. Your mind was reeling with possibilities, yet the uncertainty only added to your mounting anxiety.
You quickly walked inside the house and blocked that number as well, not bothering to bring in the roses. You left them on your doormat to rot, as you had no desire to let the flowers remain in your home. Soon after, you heard a buzzing sound coming from your phone and instinctively answered.
"Hello," you said, hoping to hear a familiar voice on the other end. There was no reply for a second. Then suddenly, a deep, gravelly voice infused with a Southern twang unexpectedly responded, sending shivers down your spine. You froze for a moment, pondering the uncanny timing of the call. What gave it away wasn't just the voice, but the chilling familiarity of the situation. The sudden appearance of the roses, the ominous messages, and now this call from "Daphne 💕" at the most unsettling moment – it all clicked into place. It couldn't be a random coincidence. Your gut twisted with certainty; it had to be the stalker, cunningly using the guise of your friend's name to unnerve you further.
The voice spoke again, "I missed our little game, I'm glad you blocked my last number, as it made our game much more interesting," the voice taunted, sending shivers coursing down your spine.
"Why are you doing this? Is Daphne okay?" You shouted into the phone, your thoughts running wild with a million questions and concerns. The stalker's laughter sent chills down your spine and increased your frustration. "Why would I hurt Daphne if you're the one I want?" the stalker laughed again as if your worry was a joke to them. It seemed clear that the stalker had little to no compassion for your best friend's safety.
You desperately needed a way to get to the point, so you chose not to waste any more time. "If you're after me, then why are you pretending to be my best friend? Wouldn't it be easier to just text me with your number?”
"Well, that doesn't seem to work. You've blocked every number I've tried," the stalker replied, their tone oozing with smugness. It dawned on you that they'd been meticulously keeping track of every number you blocked, instead of simply moving on like a normal person would.
"Touche," you responded evenly, sensing the stalker's growing frustration as you stood your ground. Their voice took on a darker edge as they acknowledged your resistance. "Blocking my numbers isn't cutting it. Looks like we need to switch up the game," they declared, sending a chill down your spine. You couldn't shake the feeling that their next move would be far more sinister than merely sending flowers.
"So, what do you propose we do now that blocking your numbers isn't working?" you asked calmly. The stalker laughed, a menacing sound that only added to the tension between the two of you. "I have a few ideas," the stalker replied, their tone of voice hinting at something sinister. "Let's hear them," you replied, keeping your tone of voice as calm as possible to disguise the fear growing inside of you. The stalker paused for a moment before speaking, as if they were plotting their next move.
You walked into your kitchen and grabbed a knife like you did a week prior. The stalker's dismissive response sent a chill down your spine. "And a flimsy kitchen knife is a solution... sweetpea, those knives in that block of yours aren't as sharp as you think," the stalker responded, making you look around nervously. The stalker had made it clear that they could see you, which raised several new questions. How much could they see? Could they see you right now? Were they hiding nearby?
"Like that would deter me. In my hands, this knife can and will kill you," you spoke with false confidence as you walked to your bedroom. The stalker's dismissive attitude frustrated you, and you were tired of being the one who was afraid. You wanted to gain the upper hand in this situation, and you were prepared to do whatever it took to protect yourself.
You grabbed your desk chair and a pillow before taking a seat with the phone and knife still in hand. The stalker responded in a mocking tone, "Oh, what are you going to do with that knife? Stab me through the phone?" They were challenging you, and you were determined to prove that you weren't as afraid as they thought. You were determined not to let them get under your skin and decided to respond with your mocking tone. "Maybe I will," you replied, deciding to match their confidence.
"No need for hypotheticals… you smell good by the way," he responded, so casually it made you gasp audibly as you suddenly imagined how close he was. "No need to get all fussy," the stalker continued, their tone of voice a mixture of amusement and malice. The thought of the stalker's presence just inches away from you made you hot and uncomfortable in a way you hadn't felt before.
You shut the blinds in your bedroom and frantically rummaged through your closet, stabbing at clothes out of sheer terror. Opting to take a seat, you vowed not to sleep until the psycho lurking in your house was either gone or dealt with permanently. The idea of him being in such proximity sent waves of unease rippling through your body. Uncertain of his capabilities, paranoia set in, making you hyper-aware of every subtle sound or movement. It felt like only a matter of time before you'd hear him drawing closer.
The night felt like it stretched on forever, filled with nothing but anxiety and dread. You must've checked the locks on every door and window a dozen times, feeling more paranoid with each click. Even going around, peeping through the blinds and peeking under the bed, making sure nothing was lurking in the shadows before finally settling down in your desk chair for the night. You could barely stop yourself from jumping at every little sound. Around 1 am, you started to feel tired but kept yourself awake for as long as you could. However, your exhaustion soon caught up to you, and you began to yawn constantly, fighting against the urge to fall asleep.
It was 1:30 am when you decided you couldn't take it anymore. You were thirsty and tired, and the three-day-old water bottle on your nightstand didn't sound too appealing. You grabbed the knife as you made your way down the stairs, trying to stay alert while simultaneously fighting the exhaustion that was starting to take over. You finally reached the kitchen and took a deep breath, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs. You poured yourself a glass of water and gulped it down quickly as you thought of the long night you still had ahead of you.
You can feel the exhaustion slowly taking over as your eyes start to feel heavy, and the surroundings turn hazy. You can feel yourself starting to lose control as the exhaustion takes over, and it becomes harder and harder to stay alert. You feel as if you're caught in a fog, losing touch with reality more and more as time goes on.
You stumble into your room, your vision getting blurrier by the second. Exhaustion has you barely standing. Darkness starts to take over, swallowing everything up as your surroundings turn fuzzy. It feels like you're losing control, like a heavy blanket pulling you down. A fog surrounds you, making everything dark. As darkness closes in, you can feel yourself slipping away, struggling to stay upright as your vision fades to black.
You jolted awake as something rough brushed against your wrist. Your surroundings rushed back into focus as the exhaustion subsided a bit. You tried to see what had touched your wrist, only to find your hands tied securely to the headboard with rough, coarse rope. After the initial shock wore off, you started to feel the tension in your wrists as the ropes began to dig into the skin.
Your room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight flooding in from your window. The blinds and window were now open, letting in a cool breeze. You looked around in a panic, and that's when you saw him. The contractor you hired 2 months ago to help with house renovations stood menacingly in the moonlight, his large frame and pepper-sprinkled hair glinting in the moonlight. His appearance made you feel a wave of fear and suspicion, which was only furthered as he stepped forward into the light.
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat as you realized he had covered your mouth with tape. Panic surged within you, questions swirling in your mind like a tempest. Why was this happening? Why are you? What was the significance of the roses? And the most pressing question: How did he get into your house?
His presence loomed over you, a sinister silhouette against the moonlit backdrop. Every detail seemed amplified in the dimness—the way his eyes bore into yours, the rough texture of the tape against your skin, the faint rustle of fabric as he shifted closer. Fear pulsed through your veins, a relentless drumbeat drowning out all other thoughts.
You struggled against the bindings, the coarse rope biting into your wrists as you attempted to break free. But his gaze held you captive, a silent reminder of your vulnerability. During the chaos, a desperate longing for answers consumed you, driving you to seek clarity in the shadows that enveloped you both.
As the stalker's words filled the dimly lit room, they carried a weight of uncertainty. "I just want to keep you safe," he said, his voice oddly calm, though it sent shivers down your spine. Despite his calm demeanor, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off about his intentions.
"I gave you those roses because they mean something to me," he explained, his tone determined yet unsettling, the twang of his accent adding an eerie quality to his words. His explanations felt like pieces of a puzzle you couldn't quite solve, leaving you with more questions than answers.
His justifications for his actions only added to the confusion. "Breakin' in, you see, it was necessary," he continued, his explanation sounding more like a feeble excuse. You couldn't help but wonder what drove him to such extremes, what twisted logic fueled his intrusive behavior.
With each passing moment, the lines between concern and obsession blurred further, leaving you to navigate the murky waters of his intentions. As he spoke of protection and affection in that Southern accent, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his story than he let on.
"Now," he murmured, his voice taking on an eerie calmness, "I'm going to remove the tape from your mouth. I suggest you cooperate." His tone held a chilling finality, a warning wrapped in false benevolence. "Behave, and we won't have any problems."
As the words escaped his lips, a twisted narrative unfolded, stirring a disturbing sense of familiarity within you. Despite the fear gnawing at your core, there was an unsettling draw towards him, as if his words carried a hidden allure.
His voice, soft yet commanding, stirred conflicting emotions within your mind. Memories of your first encounter flickered like distant flames, igniting a spark of attraction amidst the chaos of fear and confusion.
His eyes, once unsettling, now seemed to hint at vulnerability, reflecting a mirror to your uncertainties. His determination to protect you, though shrouded in ambiguity, blurred the lines between reality and manipulation, leaving you to wonder at his true intentions.
Amidst the turmoil, a nagging sense of unease whispered warnings of danger, urging caution in the face of the unknown. The chill that ran down your spine couldn't be dismissed, as his calm demeanor masked the darkness lurking beneath the surface.
As he reached to remove the tape from your mouth, a fleeting thought crossed your mind, betraying the depths of your confusion. Despite the fear and uncertainty, an undeniable attraction lingered towards this enigmatic figure, the same one who had once breathed life into the walls of your home.
Trapped and bound, vulnerability heightened with each passing moment. The stalker's unsettling words hung in the air as he approached, his eyes now a mix of intensity and what seemed like genuine concern. The tape on your mouth held back the words you longed to shout in defiance.
As the tape peeled away, a shiver coursed through you, a mix of fear and inexplicable attraction. The dim room bore witness to the conflicting dance of emotions, a macabre waltz where danger intertwined with a bizarre sense of connection.
His fingers brushed against your skin as the tape came off, sending a jolt through you. "I suggest you behave," he murmured, his words dripping with a possessive edge that made your skin crawl. Tension thickened in the air as his touch lingered, tracing an unsettling path along your bound wrists.
His actions became increasingly invasive as he leaned closer, his eyes piercing into yours with a sinister intent. "I'll behave if you stop this madness," you retorted, your voice quivering with defiance and desperation. The stalker's eyes narrowed, a sinister smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Ah, but this ain't madness, my dear," he drawled in a Southern twang, his voice dripping with unsettling calmness. "This is love, a love that you'll come to understand in time."
The words sent a chill down your spine, but you refused to let him see your fear. "Love doesn't involve tying someone up against their will," you shot back, determination lacing your words.
His laughter echoed in the darkness, a hollow sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, but my love, you'll see," he said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "You'll come to realize that everything I do, I do for you."
Your heart raced as you struggled against your bindings, the stalker's presence suffocating in its intensity. "Let me go," you pleaded, your voice betraying the fear you fought so hard to hide.
But the stalker only leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, his Southern twang adding an eerie quality to his words. "I'll let you go when you understand," he whispered, his words a haunting promise of things to come. "Until then, we're playing a game, you and I, a game of cat and mouse."
Your pulse quickened at his words, the sinister game unfolding in the darkness. "I don't want to play your game," you countered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.
"But you've already joined, my dear," the stalker replied, his tone chillingly matter-of-fact, his Southern twang accentuating the unsettling atmosphere. "And you'll find that I'm quite skilled at it."
His words loomed in the air, casting a weighty tension that embraced the room. Each of his calculated moves and carefully chosen words served the purpose of unsettling your equilibrium.
"I won't let you win," you declared, rallying every ounce of courage within.
The stalker's grin widened, a predatory gleam sparking in his eyes. "Oh, but that's what makes it so exhilarating," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "The chase, the uncertainty. It's what keeps us alive."
A hard swallow marked the acknowledgment of your grim reality. Trapped within the twisted game he orchestrated, you recognized the stakes were high. Refusing to play the role of a pawn in his deranged scheme, you vowed to escape, regardless of the price.
As the tension simmered between you, the air crackled with an unsettling energy. The stalker's gaze bore into yours, a magnetic pull tainted with danger and an underlying primal essence.
"I won't be a pawn in your sick game," you spat, your voice trembling with a blend of fear and defiance, yet underscored by an undeniable undercurrent of something more.
The stalker's smirk deepened, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Oh, but my dear, you already are," he purred, his voice low and seductive. "And soon enough, you'll come to relish every twist and turn."
He reached for the blanket and slowly pulled it down, revealing the t-shirt you had worn earlier. The cool breeze in the room caused your nipples to harden. "What are you doing?" you panicked, attempting to move away, but the rope still tightly bound your arms and ankles. "I said behave." Gosh, you wished you could put a name to the face; it had been so long since you'd talked to your contractor that you'd completely forgotten his name.
He removed the blanket completely, walking to the end of your bed where your ankles were tied. You felt a sense of relief when you saw him start untying your ankles. "If you do something stupid, there will be consequences," he finished untying your ankles and kissed your feet softly.
The change in move had you taken by surprise. You didn't know what to expect next, but you were suddenly aware that you were in a very vulnerable position. He planted his hands on your hips and pinned you down on the bed, his strength overwhelming. You were completely at his mercy, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. A shiver ran through your body as you realized how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to.
Your body goes into survival mode, and you fight against his hold with all the strength you can muster. But it's useless. He's too big. Too heavy. Too imposing. He moves to straddle you, pinning your legs between his screams with frustration, attempting to buck him off. He laughs at the attempt, the rich sound of his amusement sending a chill down your spine,” Shh..just relax sweet pea I won't hurt you” he gently brushes some stray hairs out of my face.
"Get off me!" You shouted, kicking your feet up and down, but there was no budge in his position. He grabbed your face forcefully, drawing it closer to his own, and you could smell the mixture of liquor and mint on his breath as he spoke with a threatening tone. "Keep pissing me off, I dare you."
A panic starts to come over you, sweat starts to drip down your hair like a pulsing sensation starts to pulse between your legs, “the stalker whispered with a sickening grin. As he lifted your t-shirt, exposing some of the skin on your stomach, you felt his breath on your ear, and a shiver ran down your spine. Your body was reacting to his touch in a way that filled you with shame.
His rough calloused hands started exploring higher, slowly but surely making their way over your stomach and up towards your chest lifting your t-shirt more and more with each movement. You felt the soft touches against your skin, his fingers slowly tracing up your body, creating a sense of danger and excitement. You were frightened, and your mind went into panic mode. "What's your name? Is it Josh or Jake?" the words came spilling out suddenly as you wanted to distract him from what his hands were doing.
The stalker was caught off guard by your sudden question, and the change in your tone pulled him out of his trance for a moment. He chuckled, as his fingers continued to explore your body. "My name is not Josh or Jake," he whispered. "My name is much more interesting than that." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as his fingers continued to trail up toward your chest. He started to knead your breasts softly.
"My name is Joel, and I'm shocked that you don't remember," Joel said with a sadistic smirk. He sat up, allowing your legs to move freely, and you immediately rolled around to cover your exposed skin. It didn't matter whether you got rope burns on your wrists or not, as long as he wasn't able to touch you intimately. Your body was still tingling from his earlier touches, and no matter how much you tried to ignore it, the sensations were still there.
"Maybe I should make you remember it for next time." Joel's voice had a harsher tone to it as he spoke, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes as he watched you roll around to cover up the exposed skin. Maybe he was angry that you didn't remember him, or maybe he was angry because you seemed to be resisting his advances. The reason didn't matter. What mattered was that he looked pissed.
He walked back over to your ankles and started to tug on your pants making them come off in one swift motion before grabbing one of your legs and lifting it roughly kissing your ankle and lower calf you tried to kick your legs but to no avail, it was like it didn't affect him it was kinda hot, what no? Get it together he's your stalker
You were left helpless in your t-shirt and panties scared and unsure of what to say or do as you're body was betraying your brain my pause in thinking gave him enough time to discard your panties and put them into his jeans pocket…You glanced over him swiftly, taking in his broad, fit physique, which seemed to defy his age. He carried a presence that suggested he might even be older than your father if not the same age. what had felt like 15 seconds had been long enough for him to pin your knees down to your bed
If you tried to buck and get away you would only shove your pussy closer to his face, you had an intense pink blush on your cheeks at the action he was so quick and seamless unlike any male you'd ever been with you stiffen the moonlight barely allows you to see him making you angrier feeling even more exposed to him.
He starts to kiss your upper thigh making you gasp at his actions as he slowly makes his way closer to your mound he teases you knowing that your body is betraying you as your legs shake suddenly the closer he gets to your core. He took his time kissing both your legs and even your lower stomach every so often as he switched.
“The only sounds I want to hear out of you are praise, my name, or your moans'' he placed a kiss directly onto your clit making you arch your back in pleasure causing your hips to lift off the bed. “You smell and taste like candy” he gripped your hips and roughly brought your hips back down onto the bed “Now stay still and let me enjoy my food”
Joel didn't hold back he kept his hands on your knees keeping your spread and ready for whatever he wanted to do to you, he didn't hold back in his movements his tongue lapped up every juice your body produced like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted you bite your lip trying not to give him and satisfaction of knowing the pleasure he was giving you. You were grateful your hands were bound if not you weren't sure you could hold off on running and tugging your hands through his hair.
You feel and smell your arousal your body is shaking and you're struggling to stay quiet he knows it and isn't making it any easier as he starts to change his technique he uses his teeth to bite your clit softly allowing his tongue to attack no mercy his movements calculated as he listened to the sweet sounds of your moans started to escape.
He pulled away making you whimper before changing the position he sat on her knees before pulling your ass off the bed and pushing your legs so they were at the side of your head he spit on your pussy before using his hand to spread the spit around your pussy making the surface even wetter. “You're not behaving you're holding back��� he pauses and puts two fingers into your pussy pumping in and out slowly making your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan softly…fucking heaven. “See how much better it feels when you don't hold anything in?” he taunted you as he began to curl his fingers hitting that one spot that made you see stars.
You moaned feeling on edge you tugged on the ropes holding your hands hostage you wanted to touch him so badly. He began to bite on your clit just enough to give you pleasure but not enough to hurt. He brought the hand that wasn't fingering you so deep you were seeing stars up to your breasts moving your stupid t-shirt out the way to pinch and kneed the smooth skin.
You couldn't take it anymore. Your orgasm was coming faster than ever your moans were not contained. You were grateful for the seclusion of the woods that surround your house. It probably sounded like a murder was taking place with how loud your moans were getting.
Joel knew you were close as well. He stopped kneading your breast and used his free hand to hold one of your legs down as they began to shake rapidly, he added another finger and made his motions faster. You couldn't take it anymore you screamed out “OH GOD JOEL!!!” you started to shake as he continued to finger you and hold your legs open he moved away from your pussy to get more leverage to hold down your shaking body “JOEL…stop.., it's too much” you gasped and started to cry at the overstimulation he was giving you.
Then he finally let go, letting your legs down. Your vision was blurry from your tears. Joel stood up at the end of your bed. The sun was beginning to rise, giving you a better look at him. God, he was just as hot as the first day you met him. “I hope you don't think we're done so soon?” he joked you were shocked for a man his age he's lasting longer than you thought possible, the started to undress himself revealing his chest he was even broader without a shirt he had a small belly but bellow it was a large raging cock it had to be as thick as a soda can and longer than any dick you'd seen in real life it was majestic .” cat got your tongue?” he climbed on top of you and met your lips with a sloppy kiss.
You both began to make out like horny teenagers. You could taste your arousal on his tongue. He ran his hands through your hair and down your body he pulled back for a second before ripping your t-shirt in half “Hey!” you protested, “it kept getting in the way of what I wanted” he started to kiss down your neck leaving bruises as he moved along your neck and collar bone. You groaned in frustration as you couldn't touch him, your wrists were becoming raw and red with pain. He noticed and kissed your wrists but didn't untie them, making you squirm to try and loosen the ropes. Joel grabbed your face roughly "When you misbehave, you don't always get what you want," Joel said, using a more stern tone. "Now be good and stop squirming around like a child who didn't get what they wanted." he let go of your face and started to stroke his cock.
He put his hand in front of your mouth “Spit” You spit into his hand and watched as he used your spit as lube for him to stroke his dick, he spread your legs open again he pushed your knees back close to your head but not far enough for your ass to be off the bed but enough to give him a good view of your pussy glistening in the morning light.
He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your folds causing you to gasp nervously for what was to come, he slowly started to insert his dick into you screaming at him and moved your hips away as he tried to insert the tip “Ah!” you kick at him “stop it doesn't fit” you plead with him for him to stop or maybe stretch you more. “Aww poor baby never had a real cock have you” he inserted the tip of his dick filling causing you to arch your back slightly you rapidly shake your head no to answer his questions “Words” his voice sounds cold and dominant as he pulls you by your hips onto his dick
It's so deep you feel it in your throat you can't help but moan out at the feeling so painful but so pleasurable “Now…” he pulls out almost completely before slamming back in “Have you never been with a real man like me?” He continues to apply slow deep thrusts as he talks to you making your eyes roll to the back of your head “god I can barely fit” he eggs you on as he begins to use his thumb to rub your clit adding just enough pressure to have you moaning out for more.
“Please…more I want more” you beg as your hips start to meet his thrusts. He begins to pump into you faster grabbing onto your hips and roughly digging your hips into the mattress as he thrusts harder and faster into you the pain has completely faded and all you feel is pure euphoria as he fucks you.
You haven't been able to stop moaning and you quickly get embarrassed as a loud shriek leaves your mouth as he hits that spot again you'd never had anyone fuck you like this you don't feel pleasure for a moment he's made you feel good over and over listened to your body and understood how a women's pleasure works. “Joel…please” You didn't Even know what you were begging for, you just longed for more for anything he was willing to give you.
“Do you wanna cum?” he taunts biting your shoulder as he continued thrusting into you, you were lying if you said you didn't want to come you wanted so too so bad and he knew it he was experienced he could tell by the way your pussy was pulsing, your breath became sloppy, the way your toes curled he knew he just wanted you to say it. “Answer me or I won't let you cum at all” he growled, applying pressure to your clit using his thumb “Yes yes god yes please make me cum” Your back arched and you moved your body into him as much as you could.
You're juices dripped down your thighs a set of continuous moans fall out your mouth “You're gonna cum with me sweet pea fill you with all my baby’s” he groans and pulls your thighs into his arms so your legs are flat against his chest allowing you to feel him in your spine the sound of the bed squeaking fills the room as his thrusts became more erratic “ready?” he groans deeply and rubs your clit faster and faster until your vision suddenly went fuzzy as your orgasm washed over one another. You felt his sticky cum flood into your pussy. The feeling was so warm it felt like it would never stop cumming thank god for IUDs.
Joel didn't let go of your legs, instead, he pushed into you making sure as much of his cum as possible would stay inside of you, he leaned down into you making your legs right next to your ears he leaned in for a passionate kiss before pulling out of you.
A dead silence reigned over the room the morning sun shined through your bedroom window as the smell of sex overwhelmed your senses, after a few moments Joel undid the rope that had your hands tied to the headboard your wrists were red and bruised from rubbing against the rope so hard, Joel put his clothes back on as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling finally releasing what you just did you fucked your stalker and liked it?
Your thoughts raced as Joel came back into view, the last person you wanted to see at that moment. "My real number..." he muttered, tossing a business card in your direction. You glanced over the card.
‘Miller Brothers Contracting and Co….’
He hesitated at your bedroom door before exiting the room entirely.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel tlou#joel miller au#fanfic#the last of us#sinfulmindjoyfulthoughts#tlou#tlou au#joel the last of us#joel x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#dark!joel miller#dark!joel x reader#joel miller fanfic#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal x reader#pedrohub#pedro pascal#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro pascal fandom#tlou smut#the last of us smut#tlou hbo#smut
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I have a little bit of an interesting question! I know you stated you like writing horror and NSFW, or at least you do not mind dabbling in them, so I'm curious to your opinion:
(Please, very important onto this, keep in mind that, when I ask about 'Yandere', while yes, I mean this lovesick, obsessed character who goes to kidnapping/harming others/threatening/killing etc extremes to get the object of their affection/obsession, there's many yandere types. I PERSONALLY like only a handful of them because I am very careful with TW (I do not like toxic relationships where the 'darling' is deprived of privacy, is mistreated, forced to do things, has hands laid on them, has their emotional well being messed up by demeaning words, etc, and I do not enjoy abuse depictions of the trope either, so I cherry-pick a lot (due to personal trauma). Yanderes are often portrayed as straight up abusive when they needn't be, there's delusional ones, lucid ones who do not want to feel the way they do, others who rather give themselves to the object of obsession/affection and would rather hurt themselves than ever upset them, others who lean more towards manipulation, etc.). I say this because TW are important and while this is 'just a question in a blog' I want to inform you that there is NO EXPECTATION for you to write abuse, toxicity or anything of the sort. While being WELL AWARE that yandere relationships WILL be unhealthy in nature, it is that kind of 'unhealthy possessive' vibe you can enjoy IN FICTION, and should NEVER allow in real life. Take care of yourselves ❤️)
Obviously, none of the characters are canonically yandere, but do you have any opinions on who could fit the bill? And how/what way/what category they'd fit into?
Please ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable in any way and even if you simply respond without any headcanons/just a little ramble, remember to put TW so people who blacklist yandere stuff or feel trigger by any of it continue having a safe space here! Love your blog and what you do! Keep up the amazing work, and congratulations on such endless artistic talent!!
I haven't done a whole lot with the Yandere trope. I have one unpublished fan fiction for another fandom entirely that involves a yandere character in an antagonistic role. I don't tend to romanticize it because of how problematic it can be.
So needless to say, ⚠️ trigger warnings ⚠️ ahead for this topic, some more than others (lookin' at you, Doffy).
I feel like Sanji could fit the bill of being the lucid, regretful yandere. He knows that his obsession with you could be problematic, but he just can't help it. He gets insecure and jealous easily, and may be inclined to threaten any other men that happen to get to close to his beloved, platonically or romantically. He wants you completely to himself. Would be apologetic about his behavior and feel sincerely guilty for it, but just unable to keep himself from doing so. He also feels his behavior is protecting you in a way from being taken advantage of, and that's the only justification he can make for it—even to himself.
Mihawk, while his confidence and ego mean he's not really the jealous type, would still be a worthy candidate. He wants you aware that you are his in every sense of the word. You, your love, your mind, your body, all belong to him. No one else. He may very well be violent about it, though not toward you—just toward anyone who dares challenge his ownership over you. Toward his lover, he would be particularly doting and gentle, treating you like a fragile and priceless work of art. He would be incredibly disinclined to allow you to go anywhere without him; and if he finds out anyone else is attempting to court your affections or, heaven forbid, hurt you, then their days are going to be numbered.
Next would be Crocodile. Getting more ⚠️triggery⚠️ here. Prime candidate for a possessive yandere. Even if he doesn't have much time for you, you're still his property. He'll expect you to have time for him, to adhere to his schedule and his whims. He'll have a list of rules that you have to follow—no speaking with other men without him present, no going out in public without him or a guard that he has personally assigned to you; this is as much for the sake of keeping you safe as it is to ensure that you don't do anything he would disapprove of. In exchange, he'll shower you with lavish gifts, and treat you like a princess when he is with you...but if you break the rules, there will be consequences.
And lastly, and by far the most triggery, Doflamingo. Congratulations, you've caught the attention of an absolutely sadistic and manipulative yandere! He values total control over all aspects of your life. But he's going to make you think you have some freedom at first. He'll pout a little if you want to go somewhere without him, but he'll allow it...on the surface, at least. Then he'll hire some thug or other criminal deviant to scare you right back into his arms, whether with idle threats or physical force. He'll make you feel like he's your only source of safety and comfort. Make you defend him to your concerned friends and family of your own volition, until you have absolutely no one left but him to turn to. He'll justify it by saying it absolutely is for your own safety, and he sincerely believes that to be true; even if he wasn't hiring people to frighten you, there's still every chance that you could be hurt or enticed to leave if you stray too far from his side, and he can't allow that. Whether he views you as a lover or just a plaything, no one else is allowed to touch you but him.
#one piece#opla#mihawk#dracule mihawk#sanji#sir crocodile#doflamingo#mihawk x reader#sanji x reader#crocodile x reader#doflamingo x reader#yandere#headcanons#tw
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I would cut my hands off just so you could hold them forever (Taming You Part 2)
Summary: part 2 of my Taming You series (if you don't like this, just scroll past, it's that easy)
CW: obsessive!konig x fem!reader, depictions of self-harm, bleeding, konig is kinda crazed and lovesick, mentions of stalking, dark content (konig does NOT cut his hands off don't worry), DDDNE
*title from a lyric in my favorite song Night Riders by Ja¥en X District & Sinxi
DO NOT DO THIS IRL EVER. THIS IS ONLY FOR FANTASY!
im really nervous posting this, this is seriously just for fiction. if you don't like it just scroll past. this type of fic is for mature people. also minors fuck off
you had finally had enough of konig's toxicity. you told him plainly: that things were done between you two. he tilted his head in confusion, like a dog that doesn't understand what was said. you never thought konig's confusion could be so unnerving as you felt chills run down your spine.
"nein." he replied.
now it was your turn to tilt your head. "what? what do you mean, no?"
konig's voice became guttural, and his eyes became dark and focused, as he uttered that single word: "nein."
you glanced away for a moment, unsure of how to handle his reaction. you thought he would've screamed at you, or threatened to lock you away somewhere, but he just said "no."
"I can't be with you anymore konig, I'm not happy." you explained to him.
konig's throat rumbled as he processed your words, almost as if he were growling. it wasn't the growl that phased you - that was a normal thing for him - it was instead what he said next.
"I would bleed for you, mädchen. I would do anything for you. I would cut my own hands off so you could always hold them, if you wanted me to."
"don't-" you stammered unsure of what you just heard, "don't cut anyone's hands off, including your own. just give me some space for a while."
"nein."
...
despite konig saying he wouldn't give you space, you saw less and less of him as the days went on. after a week, you thought you had finally gotten rid of him, until someone knocked on your door at near midnight one random weekday.
you peered through the little hole in your door to see konig's hunched form, and you swore you saw something red on his shirt. your eyes widened and you opened the door. "what the hell happened to you?"
konig stared at you with wide eyes, blinking slowly for a moment. he then held out his arms, his long-sleeve shirt rolled up to his elbows. your stomach churned when you saw his arms: cuts lined them, dripping with blood, falling onto the floor outside your door.
"I'm bleeding for you, mädchen. please let me in."
you wanted to slam the door right in his face, but with the amount of blood that was falling onto the floor, you couldn't turn him away. you ran to the bathroom to get an old towel and wrapped them around his arms as you ushered him into your apartment. you sat konig down on your couch, and thought in the back of your mind that he had never been so compliant before.
"what is wrong with you?" you asked as you disinfected his wounds with an alcohol wipe. the pile of bloody wipes was building as you cleaned more wounds than you had originally thought.
"needed to see you. show you how much I love you," he stated plainly, not even caring about his blood loss.
you shook your head as you began to bandage his wounds. konig relished the feeling of your soft fingers on his skin, caring for him as he always wanted. "if you wanted to see me that badly, you should've just called."
"nein," he said. "I wanted you to see that I mean it. I will bleed for you. I need you."
you sighed and cleaned up the bloody wipes and bandage wrappers, throwing them away, hoping to forget this ever happened. you sat down next to konig, and he looked at you with wide, soft eyes, and you nearly lost your breath because he had never looked at you like that. you told yourself that your heart would be stone for him, but his eyes melted your heart. and the worst part was, konig was genuine. this was no master-minded manipulative display of vulnerability to get you back.
you sighed again.
"what is it, Süßes Mädchen?" konig asked softly.
your eyes pleaded with him as he called you that. he knew those two words always made you feel weak. "konig, don't do this to me."
"don't do what to you?" he gently lifted your face with his index finger, his thumb gently pressing against your chin.
"this," you muttered.
konig got closer to you, his warm breath gently fanning over your face. "do you want me to stop?"
now it was your turn.
"no."
taglist: @osteawb, @sleepystaarr, @vvampir3s, @simpxinnie, @majocookie, @sharkyyyyyyyyyyyy, @marysdelrey, @kybeth5, @chaos-on-stand-bi, @shannonswizzies, @arcadia509, @bloodstoneruby, @cumikering, @skystreamchan, @junkratssheila-09, @kit-williams, @tangerynsbaby, @dreamdiaries777, @royalbxstxrd, @non-satanic-panic, @theweirdchick, @kiyomisan, @maylif, @mortimoshi, @eneiss, @daughter-ofthe-forest
#cod mw2#konig x reader#konig mw2#konig fic#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig#konig imagine#konig headcanons#dark content#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat#cod konig#konig fanfiction#konig modern warfare#konig x you#toxic!konig#könig call of duty#könig#könig cod#könig fanfiction#könig modern warfare#könig mw2#könig x reader#könig x you
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What would you say are your MAIN MAIN reasons for disliking Maiko? (I dislike Maiko too I’d just like to maybe hear your main reasons summarized, ty for reading)
The main reason I dislike Maiko is because the narrative wants you to dislike Maiko, up until the finale when the show kind of threw up its hands and decided they needed to pair Zuko up with someone to nerf zutara. Like, I honestly did not expect her to be back in the finale and was thrown through a loop when she was. I think I literally laughed out loud, and not because I was supposed to.
Mai is written as an obstacle in Zuko's redemption arc. It's not a relationship that feels like the writers care about or want their audience to care about. The first time I saw the show, I thought I had missed a scene when Zuko and Mai were suddenly together in the awakening. I think I also laughed in "The Boiling Rock" when Mai showed up, not to help Zuko out of prison, but to yell at him for breaking up with her. Not because it was funny, but because it was so nonsensical.
Mai often feels like a sexist caricature of a "strong woman" / bitchy girlfriend stereotype. The writers don't care about her and neither do I, because there are plenty of other places I can get my fix for well-written female characters, even within atla itself, so I don't need to sit through the writers talking down to me.
That's also why her behavior often comes across as toxic, by the way. I see a lot of people blaming zutara fans for saying that Mai is abusive, but the thing is, she acts this way because of sexist writing, and zutara fans are not wrong to point it out. Because she is given so little narrative space, her actions are often exteme and cartoonish to make up for it. This is a phenomenon that's well documented, so blaming female fans and accusing them of some kind of jealousy over a fictional love interest seems like it's missing the forest for the trees, when the real misogyny is in the writing itself. This article says it best:
That a female character is allowed to get away with behaviour that, in a male character, would rightly be seen as abusive (or outright murderous) may seem – if you’re MRA minded, anyway – an unfair imbalance in her favour. But really these scenes reveals the underlying deficit of respect the character starts with, which she’s then required to overcome by whatever desperate, over-the-top, cartoonish means to hand. She’s in a hole, and acts that would be hair-raising in a male character just barely bring her up to their level.
So when I say that telling your boyfriend - who is recovering from an abusive childhood - to never break up with you is Bad, Actually, I am not saying it because I feel some kind of seething estrogen rage at Mai for having Zuko, I am saying that I demand more from my female characters, and so should you.
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Hello, can you do headcanons on Yandere klaus mikaelson x fem human reader?
Headcanons: Yandere Klaus Mikaelson x Human Reader (female)
-> tysm for your request, i really loved writing this and you also gave me an idea to write a oneshot soon. Hope you like it <3
-> GUYS THIS IS A YANDERE HEADCANON! DON'T READ IF YOU KNOW YOU MIGHT BE TRIGGED BY ANY OF THE WARNINGS! ALL FICTIONAL!
⚠️: Mind Compulsion, Unhealthy Relationship, YANDERE KLAUS MIKAELSON, Murders, Manipulation, Stalker, Slight mention of violence, Toxic Character, Arguments.
• Klaus, the original hybrid, is already a red flag in his own right. But as your boyfriend? Things wouldn't be easier for you. You're his girl. His property.
• He's madly obsessed with you. He spoils you when he's in a good mood, treating you like a Goddess who deserves and should be worshiped.
• He gives you anything you want. Expensive and rare dresses. Many rose bouquets. Diamond necklaces, rings and bracelets. He also loves traveling with you anywhere in the world. You wanna visit Paris? He'll take you. Greece? Rome? Egypt? Rio de Janeiro? How about Tokyo? He'll take you everywhere!
• Being honest... at first you were a little scared and embarrassed by how committed he was to spoiling you, because you weren't used to receiving so many gifts. But when you tried to kindly warn him about it while you were still in the middle of a traveling in another country, he got so angry that he LITERALLY disappeared for two days, leaving you alone in an unfamiliar country. Your anger turned to panic not long after, and when he reappeared you were already crying and begging him for forgive you.
• The downside about being spoiled by Klaus is when he uses it as a way to manipulate and belittle you if he's angry. He rubs it in, lying that you're dating him just because you're a gold digger and you'll never find someone like him. Just to apologize to you and spoiling you right away.
• Klaus wouldn't let you leave the house by your own. He says that it's very dangerous, that he has many enemies around and he cannot put your life in danger. He's really very protective with you, he feels like he needs to protect you from the world because your humanity is too fragile. Just thinking about losing you forever makes him panic.
• If you try to sneak out without his permission while he's not in town, he'll pretend he doesn't know anything about that for a few hours. But he has eyes and ears all over town, so it won't be long before he calls the other Mikaelsons and demands them to take you back home, even if you don't want to.
• Klaus is completely obsessed and in love with you. He loves painting you over and over again and probably has a room in the house that feels like your sanctuary. In fact, even at the beginning of your relationship, you discovered that at his secret room there were several frames of you that he painted while you didn't even know him yet. You also found some of your lost clothes and objects, and when you tried to question him about that, he just shrugged and scoffed, saying it was an act of true love. How could you not like an old romantic soul?
• "Don't be so dramatic, my love. I'm just a gentleman in love with my girl. You should be happy to find true love in a century like that."
• Klaus wants you all to himself and he's very jealous, even demanding that his own brothers stay away from you sometimes, especially Kol. Klaus believes they'll betray his trust and try stealing you from him.
• Any interaction you have with other men will turn into a heated argument, which can end in two ways: Klaus giving you a new diamond necklace for your jewelry collection or Klaus apologizing after unintentionally hurting you, forgetting for a moment that you're a human and don't have the same strength and stamina as a supernatural being.
• Maybe he mind compelled you at the beginning of your relationship. It wasn't anything directly dangerous for your safety, he just compelled you to avoid more arguments. And also so you wouldn't be afraid of him when you saw him killing some stranger or daggering his own siblings. And to force you to cut off some of your favourite friendships... If he still does this to you? Well, unfortunately you'll never know. But deep down you find it very weird that so many of your former friends are dying mysteriously or are missing around the world.
• And talking about your humanity, Klaus is mentally fighting with himself when he's wondering if he should turn you into a vampire soon. He loves your human fragility and how much control he has over you (even though he knows it scares you sometimes), but he also loves the thought about the future Sire Bond between you two, he truly believes that your love for him will grow even more after your vampire transitioning.
#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x reader#yandere klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x y/n#the originals x reader#klaus mikaelson x female reader#klaus mikaelson x human reader#yandere headcanons#klaus mikaelson headcanons#requests are open#open requests#the vampire diaries#the originals#venusbyline#klaus mikaelson fanfiction#the originals fanfiction#the vampire diaries fanfiction
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Amane, indoctrination, and gaslighting
and why voting Amane innocent would be the best course of action
I've been wanting to write a big post on Amane talking about indoctrination and such. Because I see takes sometimes that make it clear the person doesn't really... Get It.
Most of what I'll be explaining comes from my personal experiences growing up.
Additionally, most of what I say when it comes to outcomes (i.e. "If x happens, Amane will do y") will be based on the assumption that realism, not entertainment, is prioritized in the writing and that there are no major holes in our knowledge of what's going on. Theoretically anything could happen since this is a fictional scenario and we don't know everything when it comes to the world, the cases, and the characters. Not to mention my situation was nowhere near as extreme as hers. So although I probably have a better understanding of it than most people, I definitely can't claim that I know what she's gone through.
Personal anecdotes I add to better support my points will be in the small font (this!) since I don't want them to distract from the main text and so that they can be easily skipped for those who may be worried about being triggered. But if anyone needs plain text descriptions, I'll happily provide them!
!! TW for child abuse, religious abuse, and cults !!
I recommend skipping my personal anecdotes if more detailed discussions about these topics are a trigger for you.
At the heart of "good" (read: successful) indoctrination is gaslighting.
Since gaslighting has been one of the many psychology terms completely watered down and distorted by the internet, I will define it just so we're all on the same page!
Gaslighting is a form of psychological manipulation used to make the victim question their own sanity, sense of reality, or power of reasoning.
Basically, you can't trust yourself. You can't trust your thoughts, your feelings, your interpretations, etc. You become completely reliant on other people (usually specific people who are the ones doing the gaslighting) to figure out what's real/true or not.
Toxic/extremist religious groups like to take gaslighting a step further though. Not only do they make it so you cannot trust yourself to judge what is right or not, they may also teach you that what feels wrong is actually right. You can see where this can start to cause some issues lol.
Anything your gut may tell you that contradicts what the group/cult leaders tell you—"this is wrong!", "this is bad!", "I don't want to do this..."—must be ignored. Because those feelings and thoughts, according to the leaders, are actually the sinful part of you trying to lead the good and faithful part of you astray. They make you question yourself to make sure you never question them.
They will figuratively or literally beat this into you until your first instinct is no longer to listen to your gut and do what it says, but to dismiss it and do what it's telling you not to do. Existing becomes a chronic power struggle between your unconscious mind and your conscious mind. Unfortunately, the fact that you're struggling often then gets used against you as proof that you need to follow their teachings. Because if you're unhappy, then you must be doing something wrong. You just need to have a little more faith, dedicate a little more time to the religion/group, go a little harder into your duties... Only then will you feel better—feel more enlightened.
An integral part in making all this work is isolation. If you don't somehow isolate the members, they may figure out that they're being manipulated and abused.
Now, isolation doesn't always mean purely physical isolation (though Amane is being isolated physically to at least some capacity). Psychological isolation is almost just as powerful. An almost universal psychological isolation tactic used by extremist groups and cults is the "Us vs Them" mentality. We can see this being very prominent with Amane. A lot of things she talks about with regard to the cult involves an Us-vs-Them dynamic. There is "Us", the cult, and "Them", everyone else.
Personally, we were taught that those who weren't believers of our religion were out to get us or will, at the very least, get us hurt/killed somehow. We were told many people wanted us dead just for being believers. You had to be careful and watch out when interacting with non-believers; you couldn't trust them. God was constantly testing you via others, and you had to make sure you stayed faithful.
This in particular is why no matter if you vote guilty or innocent, that itself will not actually do anything to change her beliefs. Voting her guilty will not make her start to feel bad and then question her beliefs. Voting her innocent will not make her listen to us and then question her beliefs. If we make her have any doubt about the cult, that's just proof to her that what we're telling her is wrong and is just another "trial" from God for her to overcome. So, changing her beliefs should not be a factor considered when voting since it's completely irrelevant. Everything can be twisted to support the cult. That's just how it works.
I don't think any amount of punishment will make Amane "come to her senses". I mean... what could we possibly do to her that she hasn't already had to endure? Punishment will likely only escalate things even more. Not to mention that having a bit of a fascination with martyrdom isn't all that uncommon in those who have been religiously abused and indoctrinated. The threat of punishment may only serve to motivate her to double down on her beliefs and behavior. Not to say she wants and likes punishment. It's obvious she's both scared of punishment and wants it to stop. After all, that's most likely the motive behind the murder.
Even prior to Amane's age, I was already fantasizing about being a martyr. A part of me almost wanted to be killed for my religion and community. It was seen as something extremely admirable. The ultimate sacrifice, if you will. We were taught that if given the choice between saving yourself by denying your faith or letting yourself be hurt/killed by standing your ground, you should choose the latter. Of course, I also did not want that to happen at all. It scared me shitless. But we weren't allowed to be scared about that stuff. It was seen as questioning God and the religious authorities, which was completely taboo. So I had no choice but to "want" it.
Isolating Amane is the worst possible thing we could do to her. No one gets better from being isolated, and this goes double for people living in abusive environments. She's been isolated her whole life. The best thing for her would be spending time with the other prisoners without restrictions. The more time she spends around people who have no connection to the cult, the better. Trying to argue with those in cults about why they're wrong and why they are in a cult (because most don't even recognize they're in a cult due to the gaslighting, indoctrination, and stigma) will almost always backfire. The best thing to do is to just be there for them to have someone to interact with who is not a cult member.
The only reason I left the extremist religious community I grew up in was because I made a friend who was not affiliated with it. I don't think I would've been able to see that the conditions I was living in were Not Very Good without that friend. He didn't even really do anything to actively help me. Just learning more about the real world through him was enough to make me start looking closer at my life.
To vote her guilty would be to continue isolating her. Not just physically as the guilty prisoners get restrictions put on them, but it's also an inescapable psychological isolation. Innocent vs Guilty is just another Us vs Them dynamic.
I fear that, if she ends up guilty this trial, she will likely be voted guilty again in trial 3. Her aggression will probably only escalate as she feels herself becoming more and more cornered. And since I know many people are voting her guilty solely to make sure she doesn't hurt Shidou or other prisoners, I can only imagine what the voting will look like for her in trial 3 once she's forced to become even more aggressive to protect herself.
And tbh... I can't imagine that having a prisoner with 3 guilty verdicts will make for all that interesting of a story for them. Not that it would be boring, per se. But having variety would, in my opinion, be the most interesting and entertaining! So, if nothing else I've said has been able to sway those who vote her guilty, then think about the entertainment factor!
Please vote this severely traumatized 12 y/o girl innocent. We can give her so many secret cakes to eat.
#Milgram#milgram project#milgram amane#amane momose#milgram analysis#... i guess?#ミルグラム#yeah im pulling out all the stops for this#tw child abuse#tw religious abuse#tw cults#this is a bit less in-depth than i wanted. but i also have a horrible rambling problem and am attempting to be more concise LOL#ive got shit to say you know? /ref#im so passionate about amane#pls have mercy... free my girl...#im nervous about posting this 😔. not sure why#my social anxiety is horrible. but. i very much encourage discussion and such#for amane i will conquer my demons. they may know how to swim‚ but /i/ know how to poison the fucking water supply
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yandere slenderman headcanons !
✧༉‧₊˚୨ 📎 ୧・author's note; AFTER A YEAR I DO THIS- I like to do my headcanons separately, so when Jeff is done, I'll link it here. I was going through 'a mood' while writing this so heh
✧༉‧₊˚୨🖤୧・pairing; Yandere! Slenderman x G/N Reader ( you/your pronouns.)
✧༉‧₊˚୨ 📎 ୧・trigger warnings; grammar mistakes, yandere, stalking, murder, messed up topics, kidnapping, toxic relationships, talk of the supernatural, isolation and many other dark themes, dni if you are sensitive towards these such themes.
⚝Just a reminder I don't tolerate nor do I encourage the following topics in reality; I like keeping it strictly to fiction.
🪐. It wasn't a normal or for that matter, a usual occurrence for Slender to fall ever so deeply for one. Especially if that someone is a mere human or even a proxy working under him. Yet, he wasn't the being to feel these such strong emotions that controlled him like if he were a puppet under command from its faithful puppeteer; that's what he initially thought.
🕸. He was so puzzled by these feelings. For hundreds of decades, he has been around for, lurking and haunting through the deep, thick and densely forested woods he inhabits, that feeling was.. foreign to him. Even in his past life, he didn't even experience such overbearing passion for another. This was indeed and life-changing news for his newfound obsession new.
🪐. But what was this feeling? The towering being didn't understand himself. Through all the knowledge and wisdom he has gathered through the innumerable years he has been alive for, it didn't quite add up to what he felt. Was it lust? did he possibly fall in love..? No, that surely couldn't be! After all, was he capable of feeling that? He is a cold-blooded demonic figure who has little to no remorse for his unfortunate victims; this couldn't be. Was he being bewitched? No, that couldn't be.
🕸. Oh but how it was true! He was at a point of pure denial. From his first meeting with you, he couldn't function like his usual self; or should I say he wasn't able to focus on anything else but you. The thought of you ran through his sick mind wildly, capturing his attention every time it did. He even started second-guessing himself at certain points. "Did they have their hair styled that way?" "That look on their face, was it one of shock?", thoughts such as that.
🪐. It was an overbearing feeling that now began to consume his entire mind, which believe me is strong, into an obsessive delusional mess clustered up. The figure felt as if he needed you. Urgently, desperately.. you were his one and only desire to simply gaze upon once more.
🕸. He began to stalk you or if he was busy, he would request for Hoodie or Masky to get the job done, Toby can't be trusted for this specific task. He watched you carefully when he was allowed the chance, peering at you through your window from your room, as the gentle moonlight crept through your room, so was his cold gaze.
🪐. When outdoors he'd watch from the shadows, observing your actions. Gaining various ideas about your schedule and of course likes, interests, etc. Things went so smoothly for him, retrieving information from your day-to-day life. At times he would permit and ask of Hoodie to take something of your possession something meager though. A pen on your desk.. a clothing item.. simple accessories.. Nothing much until things got stranger. Locks of your hair would go missing, a whole pillow vanished.. your perfume/cologne it left completely.
🕸. You felt as if you were going crazy and you started to think of yourself being extra forgetful or well, clumsy. When that definitely wasn't the case. They days went by and more things left your room, something was definitely off now. You became paranoid of your surroundings, looking around,keeping tabs on what is around you at all times. 'Were you going insane?'
🪐. This made Slenderman's job harder of course until he came up with an idea. Why doesn't he keep you away all for himself, surely it is a bit selfish! But it's better to have you safe from outsiders such as your pathetic excuse for a family, in his words. While he was preparing for you to be with him, forever. Odd and heartwrenching events transpired, loved ones you were close with began disappearing. Not one trace was left of them. You were alone. But that would be your new normal.
🕸. So one faithful night, you were struggling to sleep until you eventually gave in. The figure crept into his room. His heart beat a million miles an hour within his chest, that's if he had a heart. Remember what he was going to do? Take you away from your home. Isolate you.
🪐. That's what happened exactly, he took you away to a smaller, abandoned mansion located in his same forest. Placing your unconscious body on the cushiony bed in the room he prepared for you, he left to take care of matters. Not before securely locking the entrances to the house, he can't take chances at this point. You were finally in his grasp!
🕸. When you eventually woke up, the sight before you was one you didn't expect in all of your years. This room was out of the ordinary.. foreign.. then what else was surprising? All your 'missing' items were laid out before you in a room that was decorated with what you like? How did this even happen? Your eyes gazed upon the walls which were painted in your favorite colour.
🪐. Well, what timing was this? within a few minutes, a certain slender figure opened the door to your room. Pleased with the sight bestowed before him, his dearly beloved awake and looking at him with fearful eyes? no! you love him, you're just confused. Well yes, you will indeed live in that same 'confusion' for the rest of your days spent being his one and only darling.
© yandere-smoothie :: don't reclaim or translate without permission. <3
#yande.re#yandere creepypasta#yandere slenderman#slenderman#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta x reader#yandere creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta#yandere creepypasta scenarios#tw: yandere#tw: stalking#tw: delusions#headcanon
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Vash needs therapy Pt. 1
(FYI: My view on therapy is that everyone can benefit from professional support, at least at times. But some people *need it urgently, right now, and maybe long term*. It’s a tool, don’t judge.)
So here’s my personal rule: DON’T DIAGNOSE PEOPLE OVER THE INTERNET. It’s unethical, and even if I were qualified (I am not) it would still be wrong.
But Vash is fictional, so that’s ok. :)
I said previously that psychological character analysis tries to explain how a character’s actions flow naturally from their past, relationships, and assumptions.
Today, we’re going to mostly look at actions. And Vash’s actions say he’s got a Savior Complex.
Savior Complex (SC) isn’t a diagnosis of mental illness. It’s not even in any version of the DSM. It’s more like a state of mind, stemming from toxic beliefs and reflected in toxic behaviors. Anybody can develop this mindset, with or without an accompanying mental illness.
Thanks to not being a “disorder”, SC is not a big subject for serious academics, but practicing therapists write about it a lot, so my citations are a little bit informal.
My favorite version of a definition of SC is from Grouport:
The savior complex is a psychological construct that describes a person's need or compulsion to save others, often neglecting their own needs in the process. It's a behavior pattern often rooted in empathy, but when left unchecked, it can lead to unhealthy dynamics in relationships and personal distress.
Individuals with a savior complex often believe that their worth is tied to their ability to help others. This belief can stem from societal expectations that value selflessness and altruism, sometimes to the point of self-sacrifice.
Doing good deeds is not a bad thing by itself; it even has health benefits for both helper and helped. But taken to extremes, it becomes a problem. People with SC often damage themselves and others in the name of saving someone, even the target of their help.
WebMD has a pretty thorough list of behaviors and beliefs that can indicate a SC. Let's match some of what we observe in Vash's actions and words to these indicators.
Does helping or saving others:
✅Put you in danger physically if you try to save someone in a dangerous situation
Agreeing to duel the Officer Chuck Lee in Jeneora Rock; jumping back inside the worm to rescue the reporters; getting in the middle of Wolfwood and Livio's firefight; walking right into Knives' trap; taking a bullet for literally anyone.
✅Affect your mental state, especially if you aren’t able to save the other person
After Rosa kicks him out of Jeneora Rock, Vash tells Meryl he is smiling because "I don't deserve to cry"; refusing to talk after Jeneora Rock; refusing to eat for two days after Jeneora Rock, refusing to eat for weeks after the Big Fall (especially significant since he only eats for the joy of it); stating that that he “failed” to protect Rem, and so he *has* to save LITERALLY EVERYONE; after the Big Fall, lying about Nai's survival to Luida and Brad.
✅Cause you to neglect your own physical needs, which could lead to illness
Refusing to eat for two days after Jeneora Rock; refusing to eat for weeks after the Big Fall; Letting that one officer in JuLai shoot him over Jeneora Rock, when Vash easily could have dodged; letting the JuLai military police beat him up until he was bleeding, in Jeneora Rock.
❌Lead you to get burned out
Not Vash, but only because he's not human.
✅Affect your personal relationships
In Rosa's first appearance, she says Vash rescued the town before, and that any friend of his is welcome in her diner. But after the Nebraskas, EG the Mine, and Knives wreck the town and Knives steals the Plant, Jeneora Rock has no power or water, and they have an enormous quantity of injured and dead people. Rosa blames Vash and kicks him out.
Wolfwood and Vash continually fight because Vash wants Wolfwood to adopt nonviolence, while Wolfwood finds that totally impractical. This creates conflict when Wolfwood kills the giant worm, then again when he shoots Rollo as a mercy, and again when Livio turns up on the steamer. Vash wants Wolfwood to change, even against his own will.
And then there's Knives. //sigh//
Effin Knives... Let's just put a quote here from VeryWellMind:
They also can have problems in their relationships with family and friends, and frequently find themselves being taken advantage of by others. People close to a person with a savior complex just assume that person will take care of them, without any regard to their needs. It can lead to a toxic, one-sided relationship, where your boundaries and feelings are not respected.
🤷♀️Negatively affect the person or people you’re trying to help
This is less clear-cut, because lots of people blame Vash for events that others are acually responsible for (chiefly Knives). We could argue that his previous failures lead to people not trusting his intentions, and acting against his saving them... Or we could just talk about Rollo. Vash essentially failed Rollo twice, when he didn't return in time to prevent him being made a child sacrifice, and again 20 years later when Wolfwood shot him as a mercy killing. Vash was angry, but Wolfwood pointed out forcing Rollo to continue living in pain and misery was cruel, and Vash was not able to cure the monstrous changes done to Rollo. Wolfwood feels the killing was actually compassionate, but Vash insists he could have found a solution without killing.
If we call that one a half-point, giving us a 4.5 out of 6 behaviors. Again, SC is not an illness, this is not at all diagnostic, but it's enough to suggest talking to a therapist would be helpful.
There's other self-assesment lists and articles out there, and some lump Hero Complex into the same broad definition as Savior. I had accidentally confused SC with Martyr Complex in an earlier post. The difference really seems be that both people with a Hero or Martyr complex need acclaim or praise for the good deeds they do, but Vash doesn't care about rewards or recognition at all. Rosa said he fixed the plant before for free, and other than food or drink, we never see him ask for payment or even trade in exchange for helping anyone in Trigun Stampede.
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Please tell me what you think of Part 1. Part 2 will cover the psychology of Vash regarding how his past relates to his beliefs, and if we have time, we can try to get into what that does to his relationships.
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Can I request hcs Nsfw for yan Itachi? Pls!
Yandere Itachi NSFW headcanons
Warnings: As this is yandere fiction, this deals with behaviours that can be uncomfortable and triggering to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional, I do not condone this behaviour irl. By clicking the 'read more/keep reading' you are consenting to read this at your discretion.
~In general, Itachi prefers not to harm his partner - he tries not to. However, there will be a point where he carves his name right in centre of your abdomen. This way, when he slowly kisses his way down prior to eating you out, there is solid proof that you belong to him, and that he is the only one who gets touch and taste you on the most intimate parts of your body. He would cut your name into his skin too so this sense of belonging is shared between the two of you.
~He loves to have your hands in his long hair when he's kissing you deeply. If you pull on it just a little, but not enough to be painful, he finds it sensational.
~When he is fucking you in the missionary position, he holds your hands, and either as his face buried deep into your neck, or constant eye contact.
~Sex with Itachi is slow, passionate, and constant lingering touches. He enjoys taking his time to kiss you everywhere, stroke different areas to see what works, and anytime he moves from kissing from one location to another -- like from your neck to your chest, his hands will linger on the spot he was kissing before and massage that area.
~He's very perspective of your needs - this can both be a good or bad thing because if you reciprocate is feelings in a yandere relationship, then you would enjoy the extra attention and how he makes sure you feel good. But if you don't, then it is agony and torture because you loathe him. You hate him so much for stealing your freedom and keeping you locked in a toxic relationship but you can't just ignore and zone out of the experience to get it done and over it. He's so determined to consider your needs and make sure you get your own pleasure as well, you're body is forced to endure the physical perceptions of the pleasure. And he makes sure you stay present and focused on him because while he may not harm you physically, Itachi has no preservations with harming you mentally and engaging you in his torturous little mind games.
#yandere x reader#yandere naruto#itachi x reader#yandere itachi#yandere akatsuki#akatsuki x reader#uchiha x reader#yandere uchiha#yandere smut#ambivalent writes#naruto x reader
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How would the cast react if MC had any visible scars? And how would they respond if MC goes out of their way to keep those scars hidden due to insecurities surrounding it?
(TW: Self Harm and Toxic Relationships)
I think this is a pretty interesting question that can play out in several ways. Of course, depending on when and how the scars came about the characters would have different reactions, but i tried to give a general idea of how I think the characters would react generally.
That being said, I just want to reiterate that I don't agree with all of the characters reactions below, but considering this is an erotic horror visual novel, there will be heavy and triggering topics discussed in and out of the game.
Just to make it clear, this is a work of fiction and I do not personally support or condone abuse, self harm, or toxic relationships when it comes to real people in the real world.
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Garret would be incredibly understanding and empathic. (Spoiler: He has a few of his own that he purposely hides away from view.) He'd understand why you'd want to hide it from the world, but he would make sure that you knew he didn't think any less of you or viewed them as ugly since they were apart of the person he adored so passionately. Of course he'd ask where/how you got them. Depending on the answer, he'd offer to "take care of" the people who inflicted them on you, or the people who indirectly caused you to inflict them upon yourself. He'd also want to coddle you press loving kisses upon your scars if you allowed him.
Marcelo would be a little taken aback at the scars, not knowing how to react at first before quickly collecting himself and hesitantly asking you about them. He's not exactly well versed in how to handle these kinds of things, but he would do his best to try and understand what happened and support you through it. Of course he would express concern and constantly reassure you that the scars don't matter to him and he still loves you no matter what. Overall he would just be a little hesitant about the subject because he doesn't want to say or do the wrong thing to make you feel worse about yourself or indirectly hurt you. He loves you and he's trying his best to be there for you.
Camilla would understand where you're coming from and become fiercely protective over you. If anyone ever said anything about them, or asked why you were covering up, she would immediately step in and tell them to mind their own business before roasting the person, taking the attention and heat off of you. After the fact they would check in on you and make sure you were alright and talk shit about that person until you would eventually have to tell them to stop. She would, but she would hold a grudge against them until the end of time.
Much like Marcelo, Rita wouldn't quite know how to handle the situation. She'd carefully ask how you got them and ask what she could do to help you. Of course she'd reassure you that she loves you just the same and that the scars don't detract from who you are as a person. She'd honestly take your lead regarding how you wanted to move forward, whether it'd be keeping them hidden or trying to become more confident about showing them off. She'd support you either way and, just like Camilla, would defend you and harbor grudges against anyone who made your insecurities flair up.
As for Teagan, it would depend on when you got the scars, if was before/during your relationship they wouldn't really have a reaction since they were aware of them and their origin stories. However if they appeared after your break up BECAUSE of your breakup, it would... Well, cause them to experience some very toxic and incredibly mixed feelings. On one hand they feel incredibly guilty that they hurt you so badily that you felt the need to hurt yourself in such an extreme way... and on the other hand they're almost happy that they had such a strong effect on you. Obviously they don't want it to continue and would never voice that any part of them was happy you hurt yourself... but every time they would see the scars, it would make their heart beat a little faster and their love for you grow even stronger. Internally they know how messed up that would be, however ultimately they wouldn't care since they would simply make sure that they never gave you a reason to hurt yourself again.
#tw self h4rm#tw toxic#crimson hydrangea vn#visual novel#crimson hydrangea#yanderes#original character#yandere#yandere visual novel#yandere vn#male yandere#ask#garret belmont#marcelo aguilar#teagan conners#rita miller#camilla bello
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Does this frog make you feel calm?! Or perhaps like you have been mildly poisoned with henbane?
Please enjoy these extra notes regarding things that appear in my Shameless Big Bang fic Last Night at the Verona Grand Hotel, in order of appearance. Also now listed in the work endnotes on AO3 (but without the pictures).
This post contains lots of spoilers for the fic.
The train that Mickey takes from Chicago to Los Angeles is an Amtrak route called the Southwest Chief.
Mickey reads Treasure Island as a reference to Loftec’s fic Take this waltz.
The green popsicle is Melona.
I went for fictionalized geography around where exactly the hotel is, but the descriptions of the view on the drive up are based on pictures of Los Liones Trail.
The Verona Grand is, of course, inspired by the early years of the Chateau Marmont, but also crossed with a creepy old hotel I’ve stayed at in Colorado. The name is a reference to the setting of Romeo and Juliet plus the Neptune Grand from Veronica Mars (for that sunshine noir energy).
The Mark of Zorro (1920): Full disclaimer, unlike Mickey, I didn’t watch the whole thing (I didn’t have the good incentive of looking for my crush), but the moments I referenced are here and here.
(About ten years ago, I went to an outdoor movie screening that had been advertised as The Mask of Zorro but turned out to be The Mark of Zorro; after about 30 minutes, we all gave up and went home. Sorry, Douglas Fairbanks! We wanted Antonio.)
Hunter’s name is a reference to 1950s actor Tab Hunter, who came out as gay in 2005. (One of his long-term relationships was with Anthony Perkins of Psycho fame, after they met at the Chateau Marmont.)
KY Jelly has been around since the early 1900s (!). Here’s some of the vintage packaging. We’ll just assume Mickey was distracted and didn’t look too closely at the tube (or thought it was pretentiously packaged hipster lube; thanks for that idea, Deanna!).
Mickey calls Davie “Nurse Ratched” as a reference to One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest; the actress who played her in the original movie, Louise Fletcher, played Frank’s mother in season 2 of Shameless.
Nerve pills: These are fictionalized (I don’t know how well they worked or what they tasted like; probably not nice!) but they’re based on Carter’s Little Nervine Pills, the active ingredient of which was extract of hyoscyamus, which (if my Googling is correct) is henbane. Henbane is quite toxic and can cause hallucinations. It was commonly associated with witchcraft, since ointment made with it could cause people to see things and feel like they were flying. Never change, early 20th century medicine.
Another one of the compounds in henbane is scopolamine, which can be used to treat motion sickness. This worked well for my purposes because I had decided that the sickness Ian and Mickey experience when they stay in the wrong time is a cousin to motion sickness (if traveling through space too fast can make you feel sick, why not traveling through time?).
The concept of quantum entanglement is the other one in my mind when I think about what “connects” them each to their own time, but don’t ask me any follow-up questions on that, because honestly I’m not great at physics and I don’t totally understand it. Storytelling-wise, I just like the idea of things being connected to each other on a submolecular level. I refer to this in Two of Your Earth Minutes, as well, for the same reason.
Mickey also makes a reference to the idea of the observer effect. (Lotta quantum mechanics in this dang ghost story!!)
The new movie Ian is going to audition for is A Woman of Paris, directed by Charlie Chaplin.
I think he would have gotten it, don't you?
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This miiiiight be oversharing personal sentiments a little bit but...
Ever since I changed my rules to include an explicit list of what I'm going to write on this blog instead of just a simple, brief statement saying "dark things will be present here" and started actively following people or mutuals of mutuals whose muses or writing I am genuinely interested in/have spiked my interests, I've grown a lot happier about the contents and people I'm seeing on my dash.
I felt like tum.blr rpers have grown incredibly judgemental and incapable of minding their own business. People all around me seem to have shifted their energy onto focusing on offending as few people as possible instead of trying to actually have fun, and the rpc has become a weird circle for activism when it shouldn't have been used as a medium for (false) activism in the first place. Not all of us are here to make a point or to establish a legacy. In fact, most of us are just here to have fun and scratch an itch in the brain or fill in gaps that canon source materials haven't been able to provide. But the idea of this is incomprehensible to some people who are actively ruining the rpc and making everyone fear that they're walking on eggshells while they spiral into a depressing state of existing to not offend anyone instead of existing to have fun.
I've lost count of the number of times people tell me that I'm on a DNI for "writing with pro.ship.pers" or "writing romantic ships with an adult and a minor" (<- said ship is between a 17 y.o. and a 19 y.o.) sometimes it's also ships about fake incest.
(Just as an aside, I've grown so desensitized by being on DNIs that it's no longer something to feel anything about. I'd just go through their rules with a very confused expression if to see what they took issue with. Most of the time I don't even know the mun personally.)
I've gotten more hate directed at me for writing fake in.cest rather than real ones, which is not only baffling but also incredibly ODD bc the fandom "decides" what is good and what is bad, which reeks heavily of manipulation and toxicity in my opinion. Fandoms aren't governed by a single party or a monolithic authority that decides its rules. Fandom rules are made by the community, and in every community, there should be different rules, made to ensure everyone is comfortable and feel inclusive. That is what makes fandoms special and detached from reality. Yes, you're entitled to not want to interact with certain content for reasons no one else is entitled to know unless they have your consent, but you're definitely not entitled to silence/stomp out everyone to cater to your whims or risk getting hate/harassment. Which is why I heavily encourage tagging content as-is instead of denying the nature of said content and praying that no one notices because that is the best way to make it difficult for people with different preferences and tastes to co-exist.
And ever since I changed my rules and actively followed people again, there has been a variety of content on my dash with varying tags. It's honestly very stimulating and uplifting, and if I firmly believe if a mutual were to take offense to anything I write or choose to interact with, it's on them as they clearly did not go through my rules when they followed/followed back. Additionally, I tag all my things.
A few months ago, my dash was exhausting, and boring, everyone (or most of my mutuals) was scared. Now I see posts getting tagged "necrophilia cw". I'm very happy for both my mutuals and their muses for striving for the peaks of how far fiction writing and the imaginative side of the mind can go.
I'd highly recommend anyone who has been in a similar situation to list down your dos and don'ts so your mutuals will know what to take to your tables and what to not. Personally, it felt like my dash had curated itself and it's been very pleasant to be on tum.blr lately even if I still have to vanish for a few more days due to inrl.
I think about my dash very often this week and I love all of you guys for being here and showing me your brainrots/muses! 💗💞💓
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