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calliesmemes · 2 months

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ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“ Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“ Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“ Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“ Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“ They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“ Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“ Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“ Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“ What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“ I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“ I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“ I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“ The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“ Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“ If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“ I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“ My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“ There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“ You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“ I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“ I really do hate thinking. ”

“ In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“ I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“ Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“ Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“ So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“ Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“ The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“ Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“ The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“ I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“ Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“ What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“ Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“ RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“ Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“ My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“ It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“ Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“ How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“ I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“ You look so biteable today. ”

“ Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“ I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“ Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“ Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“ Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“ Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“ I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“ Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“ I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“ Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“ I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“ Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“ You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“ You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“ It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“ Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“ No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“ No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“ I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“ Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“ Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“ I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“ Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“ I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“ Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“ Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“ Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“ May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“ I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“ You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“ Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“ Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“ All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“ How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“ What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“ I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“ Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“ Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“ I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“ Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“ I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“ You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“ Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“ Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“ I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“ If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“ Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“ Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“ I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“ Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme

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peachdues · 2 months

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VIOLENT DELIGHTS (NSFW TEASER)

Mercenary!Tengen x Assassin!Reader

A/N: I’ve been hyping this one up for a while, so enjoy a smutty teaser of Part I of Tengen’s installment in my Tell Me to Stop series.

This will be an enemies-to-lovers fantasy AU where Tengen is a contracted mercenary for the royal Ubayashiki family and Reader is an assassin. Trust when that when I say “enemies to lovers” I mean enemies to lovers. Tengen and Reader take turns beating the shit out of each other and both try to kill each other at least once.

But be warned: things get fucking filthy. Hope you’re ready to see Tengen be the biggest simpy bitch for Reader. Enjoy!

CW: explicit sexual content below • MDNI • oral (f!receiving) • public sex • sub!Tengen • he quite literally crawls for a chance to eat Reader’s pussy • begging • enemies to lovers • Reader’s on a power trip and we love it • defilement of a throne

“That isn’t yours,” a familiar voice drawled from behind the drapery partitioning off the entrance to the grand throne room. Though its tone was almost bored, there was a faint hint of amusement.

Your red-painted lips curved up into a devious smile. “My apologies, I thought I spied my name carved into this fine stone.”

From the shadowy corridor of the throne room emerged a figure,

“It belongs to his Majesty, who, need I remind you, you tried to assassinate not even one year ago.”

“That is old news,” You waived your hand dismissively at him, crossing one leisurely leg over the other, allowing the silky material of your dress to part at the slit around your thigh. “I have moved on. Call it self reflection, personal growth —“

“A higher paying offer,” Uzui amended.

“— All that matters is that I now pose no threat to your beloved King.” You finished smoothly. “I simply wanted to see if the great Ubayashiki’s throne was as grand as the rumors claim.”

The Sound Mercenary only shook his head, his arms folded across his massive chest as he sauntered down the aisle toward the base of the dias leading up to the royal throne, where you sat. “Your very presence on his ancestral seat dishonors His Majesty. And though I tolerate many things, I should not tolerate disrespect to him.”

“Is that why you fucked the one once hired to cut his throat?” You pondered, loftily. “Was it out of this great respect for him that you begged for my cunt?”

Uzui scowled. “I said I shouldn’t tolerate it; I never claimed to succeed in doing so.” And even from where you sat above him, you could see the fire simmering in the Sound Mercenary’s eyes as he passed through a large beam of moonlight that streamed through the windows of the cavernous Hall. “That’s particularly true where a certain devious assassin who enjoys toying with the threads of my sanity is involved.”

You suppressed the delighted shiver that tickled down your spine. “Be that as it may — if you want to preserve the sanctity of your Master’s throne, then you will have to come remove me yourself,” you smirked, shifting forward in the seat, eyes flashing with your challenge. “But be warned: I am armed.”

The silver-haired mercenary gave a great snort. “You remind me as though it were possible to forget how you held a blade against my neck while you fucked yourself on my cock,” his voice dropped to a sultry purr and his eyes darkened. “I may be a blind fool where you’re concerned, but only a simpleton would think to underestimate you.”

“So narrow minded, Uzui.” You sighed. “A woman can be armed with more than mere blades.”

You uncrossed your legs, your fingers ruching up the delicate folds of your dress and pulling them aside, your thighs spreading wide across the seat of the throne.

Your gown was spun from a fabric the color of molten silver. Though floor-length, the bottom half of the dress was not a single, unified garment. Rather, the skirt was separated into three, equal sections, with one pleat hanging straight down the middle. The other two were separated from it by twin slits, extending from the bottom hem of the gown to nearly either hip.

Standing, the openings in the gown weren’t noticeable; but they served an important function, allowing you greater freedom of movement should you find yourself in need to fight or flee, and it made it easier to grab for any weapons you could strap to your thighs.

But the dual-slit skirt served another important function: access.

Your faint smirk twisted into a cruel grin as Uzui’s eyes ran down the length of your body and snagged on the flash of what lay at the apex of your thighs, before you allowed the middle panel or fabric to cover you once more.

It was brief, but with relish, you realized it had been enough to grind all his higher reasoning to a screeching halt; for you’d given him a quick glance of what you knew he wanted most.

Your cunt.

And you’d forgone wearing underclothes.

“Gods above,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “You are sin itself.”

He began advancing toward you, his hands quickly undoing the belts securing his various blades and weapons from where they were knotted around his waist. His weapons dropped carelessly to the floor, the whine of metal against scraping against stone drowned out by the music thundering from the orchestra in the ballroom just beyond the doors to the hall.

“Stop,” your voice rang clear and firm through the empty throne hall, and the Sound Assassin halted, foot suspended mid-air.

His eyes followed your fingers as they toyed with the low neckline of your gown before dropping down to your breast, circling it once. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, before he swallowed hard.

Your head was fogged by the high of his obedience. “Crawl to me.”

Magenta eyes widened, a blush creeping out from under the high collar of his tunic. For a moment, you feared you’d gone too far, that this game you played had run its course, but then Uzui dropped to his knees. Keeping his eyes locked heatedly with yours, he began to shuffle forward, slow and purposefully, to where you remained perched on his King’s throne.

Your slave, indeed.

The revered mercenary of the Wisteria Kingdom’s royal family finally drew upon the dais leading to the great throne. He paused, still on his hands and knees, his eyebrow raised in question as he glanced between you and the stairs elevating you above him.

Quickly, you tallied the number of steps separating you, and your grin broadened.

Ten.

You peered down your nose at the waiting Sound Mercenary with mocking disdain. “I’m waiting.”

The silver-haired guard did not utter a single word as he crawled forward, his eyes unwaveringly locked with yours. Despite his hulking size, he ascended the ten steps on his hands and knees with a loping grace, and within seconds he was at the foot of the throne, peering up at you in both reverence and apprehension.

His back straightened, though he remained on his knees before you, settling instead on his haunches. Tentatively, he reached for you, but but before his hands could graze your knees you extended your leg and planted your heel-clad foot squarely in the center of his chest, halting him.

Your voice was softer than the shadows cast by the dim candlelight flickering in the sconces lining the walls. “I did not say you could touch me.”

Yet you did not stop him as his fingers teased along the outside of your foot, lifting your leg until your calf rest against his collar bone.

“I have not stopped thinking about you,” he confessed with a rasp, his lips whispering against the skin of your ankle. “For weeks, you have consumed me, mind, body and soul.”

He began peppering small, chaste kisses against your leg, each caress of his lips rising higher and higher. His eyes bore into yours, and the vastness of the desperation swimming in those fuchsia irises threatened to swallow you whole. “Please,” he urged as his fingers worked circles into the soft flesh behind your knee. His eyes flicked down to what was between your thighs — what he craved most — before lifting back to yours. “I think I may go mad if I do not have a taste—“

You lurched forward, ignorning the burn in your hamstring, and caught his chin firmly in your hand, halting his ascension up your leg. He did not dare to blink as you leaned in close enough to see the blacks of his pupils dilate, chasing away the magenta of his gaze “I think you’ve already succumbed to madness, given that you’re begging to taste my cunt while your Master is in the next room. While I sit on his throne.”

“Then you are the cure to my sickness,” Uzui retorted, his cheek pressed to your shin. His eyes shone with a feverish devotion, one that flamed the red-hot fire of need burning in your belly. “So please, allow me the chance to ease some of my suffering.”

You sat back against the ancestral seat of the Ubayashiki bloodline, your lips pursed in consideration, though your hold on him remained.

“Show me.” You ordered after a moment, and your thumb slipped into his mouth. Instantly, his lips wrapped around its tip, his tongue flicking across the pad of your finger as he sucked. “Show me who you truly bow to; show me what god you worship.”

You let your hand fall from his chin and settled back against the throne, your thighs spreading wide in invitation.

Uzui wasted no time; deft fingers shoved the slitted panels of your dress to the side, and he surged forward, latching his mouth to your cunt with a gasp.

It was remarkable how quickly a few strokes of his tongue against your heated flesh could melt your smug grin clean from your face. Your head thudded against the high back of the throne as Uzui parted your folds with his tongue, began drinking you in with enthusiastic grunts.

“Thank you,” he moaned between fervent laps at your cunt, his hands wrapped under your thighs, holding you open to accommodate his hulking size as he worked. “Thank you, my sweet villain. Thank you.”

Your grip on the arms of the throne tightened, your nails nearly cracking as your fingers dug into the carved stone with crushing force. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew you were lucky that the Ubayashiki clan had favored such a sturdy material for its royal seat, for the arm rests would have surely crumbled in your hands had they been made from mere wood.

One of Uzui’s great hands tugged a leg over his shoulder, your foot coming to rest against his upper spine. He then bent your other leg at the knee before pushing it far to the side to allow himself to press as close to your center as possible, the mass of his shoulders serving to pin you in place and keep you spread as wide as your body would tolerate.

This new position meant that his nose was flush against the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, serving as extra stimulation as his mouth worked furiously against you.

“I’ve heard that there is no finer wine than that made by the gods themselves,” Uzu gasped against you, pulling his mouth away from your core to rest his great cheek against your inner thigh while he caught his breath. The sight of his lips — rosy and shiny from you — was enough to make you squirm, your hips bucking insistently toward him, desperate for him to continue. “But I know that’s a load of horse shit, because neither the gods nor man could ever make anything taste as sweet as your cunt.”

“Uzui —“ you whined, your need for him too great to care about the desperate edge of your tone.

“Fuck,” Uzui hissed and then he latched his mouth back to your core with a heady groan. His tongue stroked at you, swirling around your clit once, twice, before diving back down to your entrance and plunging deep.

You would have bowed off the throne had the Sound Mercenary’s great hand not slapped firmly against your sternum to push you back and hold you down. You bit your tongue hard enough to draw blood to keep the loud, rapturous cry of pleasure from tearing free from your throat as Uzui began steadily pumping his wet appendage in and out of your heat.

Once he was sure you would not float away from him, his hand dragged down your torso, stopping to palm and pinch at your breasts before continuing its descent, finally coming to press flat against your lower abdomen. His thumb stretched down and began toying with the nub between your thighs, circling and pressing in time with the movements of his mouth.

“What have you done to me? I will never be able to have enough of you.” He moaned in between measured thrusts of his tongue. Your fingers flew to grip a handful of his hair, tugging him harshly against you as your hips began moving or their own accord, bucking and grinding senselessly against his face until you were riding his tongue. Chest heaving, you looked down to see the whites of his eyes peeking through his eyelids before they fully shut, as Uzui lost himself in your taste.

You could feel your cries building in your throat, a mounting pressure that risked erupting and exposing you — exposing you both — to the revelers just on the other side of the Great Hall. You may not have been familiar with all the intricate details of the Wisteria Kingdom’s laws, but you were fairly certain defiling the Crown’s throne would earn you a one-time encounter with an executioner’s blade, no matter how benevolent its ruler.

It was growing more difficult to contain your noises, especially as Uzui’s hunger grew more frenzied, his head rocking harshly from side to side as he feasted.

Just as you were about to lose what little control over yourself remained, the silver-haired mercenary held something out in offering, though the rhythm of his mouth against your center remained constant. In your pleasured haze, it took you a moment to comprehend what, exactly, it was he suggested.

You blinked rapidly in an effort to clear the fog created by his sinful tongue between your legs.

It was his hand.

It hung limp from his wrist, and if you hadn’t known better, you almost would’ve believed he was waiting for you to lean forward and kiss his knuckles, just as you’d spied countless nobles do when getting their monarch. But this was no sycophantic noble — this was Uzui, and though he loved groveling for you, he knew better than to give you orders.

It was an offering; confirmed by the way he rolled his head to the side, his cheek pressing to your inner thigh even as he continued to lap at your folds. As you peered down your nose at him, you spotted sliver of magenta peeking through his eyelashes, before it flicked to his hand and back to you; urging.

His lips moved to wrap around your pearl and he sucked, hard enough that your back arced sharply away from the seat of the throne. Shakily, you reached to cover the hand he’d held out with your own and you hauled it quickly to your mouth, managing to stifle your moan against his knuckles and Uzui continued to suckle away, his tongue sliding along your slit.

His other hand slid between your thighs until his fingers came to rest against your lips. In an instant, he’d spread them wide and plunged his tongue back into your opening, curling and thrusting.

Your teeth sank hard into the flesh covering the back of Uzui’s hand where it was pressed against your mouth, your scream burning as it toiled in your throat. You felt his skin break under the force of your bite, but the Sound Mercenary did not seem to mind; in fact, he hardly seemed to notice at all, far too fixated on fucking you as thoroughly with his tongue as he could with his cock.

Once, you’d thought it was only he who wore a leash, one that had been looped around his neck by you, to be pulled and tightened at your whim.

Now, as your hips lifted to meet his mouth and your mind disconnected from your body in favor of grinding wantonly against his face, you realized that perhaps, he’d slipped his own leash around you. For as much as you insisted you were always in control, always remained one step ahead, you found that you were no more a slave to your own desires than the man feasting on your cunt like it was his last meal.

You were close; so dangerously close, given how your abdomen tensed as that coil in your belly cinched tight.

“Uzui —“ you warned, pulling your mouth away from his bloodied knuckles. But then Uzui grazed his teeth against your clit just as his tongue curled and stroked your innermost wall, and that coil unwound.

Your climax slammed into you with a force that threatened to pull you apart at your seams. One hand clutched at the arm rest of the throne while the hand shot to his head, your fingers ensnarling themselves into his hair harshly enough that you could’ve scalped him, had he tried to pull away. But Uzui wasn’t going anywhere; not as you began twisting and gyrating and bucking against his face, too overcome by pleasure to make a sound, your mouth only hanging open in a silent scream.

The Sound Mercenary groaned loudly into your cunt as you continued riding against his face. A violent shudder passed over him and he clutched harder at your thighs, his hands nearly wrapping around them both as he fucked you through the tides of your climax.

Uzui lapped at you twice more before your legs finally relaxed and the last wave of your high receded. Limp and panting, you forced your hand to tighten its grip in his hair, tugging until you managed to pull his face away from your cunt. You cocked your head to the side, inspecting him, your hand dropping its hold on the silken strands of his hair to grip under his chin, tilting his face up toward you.

Uzui’s cheeks were flushed a bright pink, and his chest heaved as he caught his breath. Your thumb swiped over his bottom lip, and with a fluttering thrill, you realized that the area from his chin to the hollows of his cheeks were thoroughly covered in you, his skin shiny and slick.

Your eyes scanned lower, narrowing in on the crotch of his leathers. Though the throne room was shadowy and dark, you still spied the thick bulge which had formed between his thighs as he’d indulged himself on you. With a smirk, you leaned forward and ran your other hand over the laced seam of his breeches, ready to hear him hiss as you made contact with his hardness, but to your surprise, the material was damp.

Your eyes flicked to his, wide as you withdrew your hand, your thumb running over your palm where a small bit of his spend had seeped through his laces.

Uzui kept his chin high, his eyes full of a besotted wonder as you leaned back against the throne, and grinned.

“You might wish to visit a washroom before you return to your post, Uzui,” you mocked, sweetly. “Lest you allow your entire Court to know how you truly enjoying spending your time.”

“I suppose you’re right; imagine how quickly I’d be sent to the gallows if my master learned I’ve whored myself out to the enemy.” He bit back, a rueful smile forming on his lips. “Though if you were my wife, I could wear your pleasure like a badge of honor.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Mine,” his answer was quick and assured. “There is no higher honor than having you moan for me.” He paused for a moment, his hand reaching for you, and you allowed his knuckles to softly caress your cheek. “Though I think i might consider treason if it meant hearing you utter my name — my true name.”

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #tengen uzui #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny uzui #kny tengen #uzui x reader #uzui smut #kny smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer fanfic

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kpopnstarwars · 17 days

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Warriors: Choi San x Reader

A/N: ohh boyyy after the kpop fanfic drought im back and it's with warriors au choi san

Summary: San and Reader are mages, which means they are made to serve. They are lowborn, destined to obey humans - the nobles and the highborn - with their every breaths. What if they don't want that?

tw: 18+, smut (p in v, fingering, cockwarming sort of), swearing, violence, death, blood, minimally gory at one point, war, child soldiers (14 yo), society is a shit place to be if you're a mage, tons of worldbuilding, assassins, freaking bath sex, hint at sa at one point from some dude we hate, san is kind of a brat tamer, seonghwa cameo but sad, idk if you can tell but i suck at summaries, mention of a harem, mention of slavery

wc: 4.8k

As a child, you watched from afar, waiting for things you could not grasp.

They told you that you were made to serve. They recounted age-old tales, about gods that crafted humans in their divine hands, moulding the mages afterwards to be commanded by their beloved creations. They filled your mind with legends of faithful individuals of your kind who proved their worth with obedience until you wished to be like your forebears.

Back when you were but an infant, you believed it. You knew the two powers that were bestowed upon you by the gods, varying in every mage, were gifts made solely to assist the highborns. In your naivety, you thought the rosy flame cupped in your small, childish palms would be used to warm the nobles in the icy winter, and that you would fulfil your purpose through that, through being of use to them. They had no shame as they informed you you were just a tool forged for following their orders, and you were convinced it was all true - until you met San.

Although you were the one with the ability to summon an inferno, he was always the one with a burning fire in his eyes. Like all mages, he’d been taken from his parents the moment he didn’t need his mother’s milk - he was given as a peace offering from the Hwangso warlord for his control of water: helpful for the upkeep of the crops.

This occurred in the small period of time in which Hwangso, the neighbouring province, was attempting to forge alliances with your province, Neugdae. Soon after, your warlord breached their territory, claiming it as his - you often wondered if the news filtering back from the front lines of a new settlement captured ever affected San.

You met him when he was an eight year old filled with bottled fury too old for his years, and you were a quiet, invisible seven year old. At those tender ages, neither of you had developed your second ability yet, nor had you gotten a taste of the power at your fingertips, but San still held his head high; you remember marvelling at the way he’d make a point of meeting every single noble’s gaze and holding it. He was just a scrawny, sun browned kid back then - nothing like the elegant lethality of the man that he is now.

Every day until you turned fourteen, you toiled beside him. The work was cruel, your supervisors crueller; the sun would beat down on your back as you laboured in the fields, side by side with San as barely a quarter of the way across the settlement, the nobles sheltered beneath their silky parasols, boasting their pale, porcelain skin. Back then, San never spoke of the injustice of it all out loud, but something about the look in his eyes when he saw them swanning past stirred something inside you. He made you realise that you were not the soulless, mindless puppet that you’d been told you were, but a person.

It wasn’t simply the rage inside him that drew you to him, though. It was the way he remained sweet, kind, despite it all, making sure to send licks of cool mist down your neck when your supervisors weren’t looking, nicking extra crumbs of food for you and remaining beside you, a beacon of light that anchored you to sanity even in the dark.

Even when, you at fourteen, him fifteen, were sent out into battle.

There were always skirmishes between neighbouring warlords: a constant push and pull for more land, more resources, more power. They would attack on a whim - mages were expendable, nothing more than canon fodder; behind each squadron was a noble who would hang back behind the lines, commanding, unbothered by the bloodshed because it was the blood of mere tools.

By then, both you and San had developed your second abilities. San’s was the ability to manipulate shadows, turning them into almost solid shapes that could physically hinder attacks by forming daggers or clutching hands, or could temporarily block the world out in a shroud of rolling black fog. Yours was the art of shapeshifting; you let the outline of your body flicker between forms, changing into powerful, deadly creatures whose substance was inhabited by the soul of a wavering teenager.

You’d known that you’d be forced to fight since you were young, but you never could have imagined the brutality of war.

It was there, in the midst of the battlefield, that any lingering innocence was burned from your soul. You learned that San’s water did not just bring life, but could also fill up someone’s lungs until they drowned upon dry ground, that your fire was not just a source of warmth or light, but could also combust a man’s heart within his chest, that the animals you were teaching yourself to shapeshift into could maul and break bones.

Many nights, you would fall asleep, curled against San, your face buried in his side with his arm wrapped around you, the taste of blood still in your mouth from where you’d torn your enemies’ throat out with the vicious canines of a tiger or the needle sharp fangs of a lynx. You would leave the front lines soaked with crimson, the essence of other people in your hair, smeared on your face, caked and drying under your nails.

It terrified you, how easily you could slice their flesh open with your claws. Armour was not wasted on mages, only generals, so just like you, all they wore were roughly woven tunics tied at the waist and trousers - you met no resistance when you killed your own kind, silent apologies on your lips.

Within the squadrons were also humans that had fallen from grace - criminals who still felt entitled enough by their birthright to think they could have a fourteen year old mage’s body; San protected you until you could protect yourself. In the first few weeks, when the punches he threw were too weak to deter them, he would let them beat him, giving you time to escape before returning to you, limping, lip split and nose bloody but the fire in his eyes never faltering.

On those nights, tears of frustration would leak from the corners of your eyes as you cleaned him up. He could so easily stop them if he used his abilities, but by then doing that without being instructed to do so by a highborn would lead to a flogging or a beating - fairytales no longer worked on you at that age, so your commanders and generals utilised fear mongering instead. You remember the hate and helplessness burning inside you when you looked at them: if all the mages rebelled at once, the nobles would have no chance, but everyone was too scared. Using your abilities on humans only led to execution.

You remember Seonghwa: he was a mage a few years older who cared for you and San as if you were his blood. He got too strong - you can’t recall his second ability but his first meant he could push a man over the brink of insanity, until he frothed at the mouth and his brain boiled within his skull. When you first witnessed the depth of his power, you were originally struck by the pain in Seonghwa’s eyes, and then by the fear in your commander’s.

The next day, Seonghwa was gone.

Often, you wonder if he fought back, or if he just let them kill him.

After, you made San promise that he wouldn’t show them if his powers developed further. He made you promise the same, and when you fought beside him, he was a constant reminder to reign yourself in, to survive. You were more careful with your powers from then on.

Some nights, though, when the frost ridden night air cut right through the ragged material of your blanket, you huddled next to San and lit a small fire in your hands. He’d tell you to stop, and you’d point out that he was shivering; he’d reply that he’d rather that than get you caught, and you would ignore him, not missing the way he tucked himself closer to the flame.

You didn’t tell him, but sometimes you would shift into a small animal, like a raccoon, and steal food for him in the dead of night. You didn’t answer when he asked you where you got it from, just shrugging and thrusting the rolls of bread and strips of dried meat into his hands, telling him he should eat.

When you were sixteen, San discovered he could animate his shadows. He could mould them like clay in his hands, breathing purpose into them - they would disintegrate within about a week or so, their outlines fading until they dissolved into nothing. San shaped a little dragon for you, the length of your forearm and the width of one of your thumbs; he came to you with it cupped in his hands, awe limning his face as the two of you watched it wriggle through the air between you and coil itself around your wrist.

You have many memories of those times, but one remains crystal clear, even to this day. A year onwards from San’s dragon, you found yourself hemmed in by enemy forces, your body tired from the fight - victory was so close for your side, and because of it, the Hwangso fought even harder, like cornered animals. If you broke through them, you would have been able to easily end their commander, but they had you, six to one. Hands closed around your throat, choking, and as the consciousness bled from you, you heard San’s cry, smelt the fear in the air as he tore through them to get to you: that in itself would have been insignificant - you had saved each other countless times through the years - but he had disobeyed a direct command.

He’d been told to kill the commander. He’d had a clear shot, and even still, he’d ignored orders, choosing to save you instead.

Both of you were beaten for it, and even as you heard the sound of San’s ribs cracking, he held your eyes, silently telling you that he’d do it over and over again, if only to keep you with him.

You think that was the moment when the two of you truly got a taste for rebellion. It was the point in the long, winding thread of your life that made you realise that whatever they told you, you would disregard it if it were for San. Their words no longer had as much power over you, because you knew your bond with him was infinitely stronger than any fear they attempted to instil within you.

Soon after that incident, your commander retired, and he was replaced by a man who was more of a fool than him. You began to lose land to Hwangso’s troops, far enough that the settlement where you grew up in was ravaged, razed to the ground. Your commander informed you that you’d evacuate the highborns, leaving the child mages and the servants behind because they would only slow you down - that was the moment you decided to stop listening to him.

The last mage rebellion had been decades ago - they were not ready. It was pathetic how easy it was to overthrow them; together with the rest of the troops and the mages from the settlement, you rebuilt the town and fortified it. San treated his soldiers with respect, with loyalty, and they loved him for it, for the way he would march into battle with them instead of cowering at the rear, for the way he could often be seen in the newly restored fields, watering the crops, for the way he recognised them for who they were.

To this day, you’re in awe of it. Never in your whole life have you come close to anything but fear for a leader, and yet you see it clear in their eyes that they love San, and that he loves them. He is everything that the highborns fear - a powerful, confident mage, wreathed in righteous shadows, fiercely intelligent, a master of strategy.

One of his first moves was to ally himself with the Hwangso warlord, the very man who had given him as a gift to your province. Deep in the highborn’s eyes was the presumption that he could break San and make him yield, followed a month later by pure terror when you held a knife to his neck, hissing to never speak of San like that again. The two of you brought his head in a sack to Hwangso and claimed your rule over the province.

That didn’t mean it was easy, though. There were the nights when San would tremble in your arms, baring his fears to you, his doubts - that it was getting too much too fast: that maybe he really was just made to follow orders. You scoffed at that - you’d seen him grow up, watched his shoulders broaden and his figure fill out with muscle, you’d seen the fire in his eyes blazing with passion; you knew he’d always be more than enough.

You’re not sure when the love blossomed between the two of you. Maybe it was always there, first shown as fierce protectiveness, later as searing kisses where no one could see, of fingers laced with yours in the dark of night. He married you shortly after he began to be recognised as an actual warlord, not a rogue mage; it was a quiet ceremony, but the celebrations of your people were far from that - rumours of the Neugdae province’s mage warlord and his wife rippled like wildfire through the regions, stirring fear and hope alike.

Some wonder why San does not take more wives - he has control over the Baem province as well Neugdae and Hwangso now, and any warlord with that much power would take on a harem without blinking. Not San, though - he’s different from them, he is a mage, a lowborn, his bronzed skin a sign to them of his childhood in the fields, and they find he is an enigma, as is his mystery shrouded right hand man.

But not to you - you understand him as if you share a soul.

On the surface, you are his only wife, aloof and coldly beautiful. In the shadows, you are his sword, his hand. There are myths of you, of the fire wielding ghost that robes itself in a black cowl and changes its skin into a man’s worst nightmare; stories of how you will twist your victim’s thoughts around until he finds the tip of a blade poking out of his chest, speared right through his back. It’s how you prefer to operate - they fear the unknown, and you are the unknown.

The fabric of the bag held in your fingers is soaked with blood. Within it is the head of the Yong province’s advisor. He was an awful man who deserved what you gave him - in a locked room at the back of his house, you found several young mages, half starved and chained by wrist and ankle to each other and a hook set in the wall. Bile bites at the back of your throat at the thought: you’re lucky you never experienced the uglier side of mage slavery.

Night is falling, the sun casting long shadows down the road. You always find the darkness comforting - it feels as if San is near. Today he is; you raise your fist and knock thrice on the solid wood of the gates, lifting your hand in recognition of the guards who peek over the turrets.

Slowly, they ease open the doors, and you stride into the courtyard, your boots clicking against the roughly hewn pavings. A squadron of your soldiers are sparring, but they halt their training when you enter, snapping to attention as you stop at the centre of the space, the dying rays of the sun streaming down the steps towards you, the air still as you wait.

He appears, his gilded silhouette glorious at the top of the stairs. His shadow guards spill down the steps towards you as he descends; their bodies contort and bend, the swirling mass of them parting around you, liquid night, jaws snapping, circling you until you’re surrounded.

A smirk pulls at your lips, and you throw the bag at his feet. You do not bow low, simply dipping your chin as he extracts the head from the sack, inspecting it and nodding before returning it to its roughly woven grave and handing it to one of his shadows to take away. Meeting your eyes, his own filled with amusement, the hint of a smile flashes over his face.

‘Welcome home, my love.’

San’s words are soft, voice quiet enough for only you to hear. You suppress the urge to pull down your mask and kiss him, instead letting your fingers brush against his as you walk with him up the steps and into the hanok; his shadows close the door behind you and the moment they do, he hooks an arm around your waist and hugs you tight, his embrace warm and sweet as always.

You laugh. ‘I was only gone four days, Sannie.’

‘Four days too long for me to be separated from my wife,’ he replies, pushing your cowl back so he can kiss your forehead.

Gripping his shoulders, you tug him down so you can peck his lips before sending him out to the courtyard again - you’re the last person expected through the gates tonight, so he should go out and dismiss the mages training in the courtyard so they can go home to their families and lock up. A happy sigh leaves you as you toe off your shoes, walking through your home and stripping off your bloody clothes before submerging yourself in the pool sunken in the floor. San has already filled it with fresh water, and it takes you mere seconds to heat it up with your fire.

Leaning with your head against the wooden ledge of the pool, you let your muscles loosen, half closing your eyes. The silence doesn’t last long, though - there’s a soft, steady noise coming from the screen behind you, almost like… breathing.

‘Show yourself,’ you command into the still air.

A man steps into view - a human, eyes crazed, knife clutched in his fingers. You realise he does not know who you really are; he just assumes you are the mage warlord San’s wife, delicate and helpless, and you let that role engulf you, backing away to the other edge of the pool with your eyes wide, luring him closer.

‘Your man took everything from me,’ he spits, blade pointed at you as he stalks forward. ‘He took my power, my wealth, my squadron of soldiers. And now I will take his wife.’

Surging out of the pool, you dodge the swipe he aims at you, sending fire surging down the knife’s handle so he drops it with a cry and twisting his arm behind his back in the most painful way possible, wrenching him down to his knees with his face an inch above the water.

‘How did you get in?’ You ask coolly.

‘I’ll never tell y - ’

You send tongues of flame licking down his ribs. ‘Answer the question or suffer.’

The door eases open, revealing San. His eyes land on you, water dripping down your body as you pin the man to the floor, then the distorted reflection from the blade of the knife that’s fallen into the pool, and something dangerous flashes inside his gaze. You let him grab your attacker by the front of his shirt, lifting him off his feet as he brings him face to face with him; you see San’s jaw clench, his hands balling into fists.

‘How fucking dare you try to come anywhere near my wife,’ he growls, shadows coalescing behind him.

You can tell he’s about to say something else, but he stops as the man, trembling and fruitlessly clawing at San’s fingers, wets himself. Your husband’s lip curls in disgust, and he drops him at your feet, pressing him down onto his knees and yanking his head up so he is forced to look up at you. Bending down, you breathe in the sheer fear permeating the air, a soft smile on your face.

‘Now, answer the question.’

‘You’re not his wife,’ he whispers, pale.

‘Oh, but I am,’ you sneer. ‘But that’s not the only role I occupy.’

Slowly, his face drains of colour, horror rippling across it as it slowly dawns on him. He recoils in San’s grasp, scrabbling at the floor in a sorry attempt to put distance between you; he has finally realised who you are and he acts like fucking coward, his mouth gaping wide in a silent plea. Unhurried, you fish the knife out from the pool, twirling it around your thumb before gliding it gently over the skin of his throat.

‘I’m getting impatient.’

‘I - I - the guards, they were distracted upon your arrival, I snuck in at the southern perimeter, please don’t - ’

His words dissolve into a weak gurgle when you slice open his throat. Blood gushes from the seams of the wound, dribbling from his lips, and you step back as he tips forward, landing with a wet thump face first on the wooden floor. Glancing up at San, you sigh before getting back in the pool. One of his shadows carries the body away and your husband tugs his clothes off and slides into the water beside you, pulling you into his chest.

‘He did not hurt you, I presume?’

You snort. ‘He tried.’

San’s fingers run thoughtfully up and down your arm. ‘I’ll talk to the guards. I probably shouldn’t have put Jisung on dusk duty while he was recovering from that fever.’

You nod but don’t answer, instead pressing a kiss to his collarbone. He hums, tipping his head back to give you more access as you mouth at his skin, letting your palms wander over his shapely chest, grip his broad shoulders, skim his waist; you trace the many scars all over his body, and he allows you to, his strong hands gripping your hips when you settle in his lap.

He curses low at the feel of your teeth sinking into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, his hips jerking upwards, and you both groan at the sensation of the underside of his cock grazing your clit. Smirking, you let your tongue lave over the spot where you bit, pressing a kiss to his jaw and pulling back as his hands tighten their grip on your ass.

‘Missed you too, Sannie. Good to know how much you missed me.’

‘So fucking bratty,’ he hisses.

A thrill shoots through you as he stands, the water sluicing in rivulets down the planes of his chest, lifting you and laying you on the edge of the pool, pinning your knees to the wood and spreading you open. The crude way he looks at you is all consuming, his eyes surveying you from where he stands with the water to his mid thigh, watching as you pussy clenches at the sight of him towering over you.

San remains there, just looking at you, and you curve your spine, almost whining in attempt to make him touch you without you asking for it. His lips quirk to the side as you squirm, trying to inch your hips down so you can grind against him, but his fingers tighten on you, refusing you.

‘What is it you require of me, love?’

Finding your attempts unsuccessful, you huff, glaring at him. He loves to do this, make you articulate exactly what you want from him - he likes the flush that heats your cheeks, your body still shy even after all your years with him, he likes the breathy noises you make when he forces you to tell him just what you desire when all you can think of is his dick, he likes it when you can’t help but beg him.

‘Y - your fingers,’ you mumble. ‘And your cock.’

‘Say that louder for me, sweetheart, I didn’t catch the last bit.’

‘Your fingers and your fucking cock,’ you snap - a sorry endeavour at trying to hide how much you love when he inflicts this upon you.

San raises an eyebrow, not moving to touch you. Waiting.

‘Please,’ you add.

He smiles. ‘There we go. Wasn’t so hard, was it?’

Your mouth opens to retort, but he slips his fingers inside you, and your back bows, a soft moan leaving your lips as he sweeps his thumb over your clit, his other hand palming your breasts, his tongue dragging over your skin. Burying your hands in his hair, you tug, making him groan low and deep as you pull him closer.

Delectably, his fingers curl, and you ache for him. San has ruined you for anyone else, he is branded onto your soul and also your body, fading marks from your last time together still slightly visible on your throat - a necklace of love bites, laying claim to you. He catches your chin as he brings you closer to the edge, tasting your moans on his tongue, grinding his palm against your clit.

You keen, coming hard around him, chest heaving, and he smirks, holding your waist as shudders wrack your legs from the aftershocks. The fire in his eyes burns ever brighter, so hot you feel your stomach go molten - your hands tighten on his shoulders, nails raking over his back, your tongue unable to form anything other than his name.

‘You’re always so willing to behave once your pussy’s full, hm?’

‘No, I,’ you start, but cry out when he pinches your clit in warning, the muscles of your thighs jumping as it lances through you, white hot. ‘Y - yes, yes, I am, please - ’

In one fluid movement, San buries himself inside you, sheathing himself until his hips kiss yours. Catching you wrists in his hand, he pins them above your head, and your back arches as he pulls out, agonisingly slowly, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging on your walls before slamming back in, tearing a cry of his name from your chest. Tugging your legs up from where they were wrapped around his waist, he hooks your knees over his shoulders - the new angle makes you sob, writhing beneath him as his cock head drives into perfection, drives you to euphoria.

Sometimes, San makes love to you, but not tonight: tonight he fucks into you mercilessly, traces of possessiveness lacing his actions as he litters your skin with bites, his hands leaving exquisite bruises on your hips. Pleasure tears through you like an arrow through your heart, white hot and maddening, ravenous.

‘You fit around my cock so well,’ he pants. ‘Like you were made for me, sweetheart.’

Something snaps inside you at his words, and as if he senses it, San presses his thumb down hard on your clit, speeding up his thrusts until the air is punched from your lungs. Stars flash before your eyes, and your mouth falls open, toes curling as you come on his cock, your cunt convulsing around him, thighs twitching; he doesn’t stop, just continues ploughing into you, and you tremble, tears slipping down your cheeks at the relentless pound of his hips into yours.

With a gasp, he pulls out and comes over your stomach, his wide shoulders rising and falling with heaving breaths, and you groan as he eases you back into the warm water, a hand cupping the back of your neck as he tucks your head under his chin, sliding his softening cock into you again. Wrapping your arms around him, you press a kiss to his jaw and rest your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

‘How do you feel, my love?’

You nuzzle your face into his shoulder. ‘Good. Really fucking good.’

He laughs, and you bask in the sound of his happiness and the comfort of his warm skin against yours. San’s hands run up and down your spine, soothing, and you smile sleepily; you are home, reunited with your other half, the missing part of your soul.

With San, you are complete.

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iovesia · 1 year

Text

✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆ 𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐁 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑.

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔. you've been warned of the infamous baba yaga, and his sadistic ways. and now, with him exacting revenge on the people who've wronged him, there's no one left to stop him from collecting his prize— you.

—⠀੭୧⠀warnings⠀· ˚ ༘⠀f!reader. dark!john wick. extremely dubious consent. large age gap. allusion to kidnapping. canon typical violence. size kink. man handling. p in v. creampie.

josie’s note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ the new and improved fic is finally here. i had to shape up and add a few scenes for my own sanity but it's finally here. please read the warnings, this is a dark fic. john is, like, slightly ooc here but it's fineee. and sidenote, this is my longest fic yet so.. — hope you enjoy ♡ !!

#. keanu reeves masterlist. | main masterlist. | request rules.

"IOSEF'S DEAD."

You look up in shock, eyes widening with disbelief. “What?” you murmured in a soft voice, barely audible in the almost otherwise silent room.

“John killed him,” your bodyguard, Andrei, said bluntly. You swallow the lump in your throat as you rest your head in your hands.

“I.. I guess he got what he wanted then,” Your voice was hoarse as thousands of thoughts clouded your mind. John Wick was on the warpath. With your boyfriend dead, along with half the mob, it was only a matter of time before Viggo was buried in the ground, too.

Nobody screws over John Wick, and lives.

Almost.

YOU WERE HASTILY ESCORTED back to the Continental at the hands of the remaining living bodyguards. Locked in your room, like a dog in a cage, you stared at the dark blue ceiling and let out a shaky sigh. Iosef was dead— not that it was particularly detrimental to you.

Many would have referred to you as eye candy on his arm, rather than a girlfriend. Showering you in lavish gifts, and showing you off to the other mobsters as his prized possession; and then tossing you back in a box when he was bored of playing with you.

The minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. John Wick was coming, that you knew. But for what was still the mystery. Under Viggo’s strict orders, he ordered a guard to stand posted at your door. While his son was an ignorant brat who hardly bothered to connect with you beyond mediocre sex, his father almost thought of you as a daughter. Daughter he wished he had.

Bored with counting the number of windows in the apartment across from your hotel room, you decided to take a shower to calm your nerves. The sound of the water pounding against the tiles drowned out the noise of the outside world. You closed your eyes and let the warmth envelop you.

“Iosef, maybe if you just apologised—”

“Are you crazy? Apologise? That is your big solution?!” The blonde haired prick snapped at you, eyes crazed with fear as he hurriedly searched for his gun. “Glupaya suka.. Try to apologise to John fucking Wick, you might as well just throw yourself to slaughter.”

“Fucking asshole,” you muttered to yourself, sharply exhaling.

YOU'VE ONLY HAD the pleasure of seeing the infamous Baba Yaga a handful of times, and meeting him only once.

Four years ago. At one of Viggo’s extravaganza’s, a place filled with all the blood thirstiest associates of New York city, you managed to snag yourself an invite to the event. Being Iosef’s newest ‘conquest’, freshly nineteen and completely new to the underworld syndicate; you were the pure soul among a sea of the damned.

“Who is that?” you whisper into Iosef’s ear, gesturing to Viggo and the circle of men around him. Iosef turns to look where you’re staring, and rolls his eyes at the sight.

“John Wick,” he answers with an unimpressed scoff. You don’t miss the way he holds your hand tighter when the infamous assassin turns his glance towards you two. His darkened stare pierced into yours, and you quickly look away. A feeling of warmth washed over your cheeks as Iosef began to walk towards the group, pulling your arm to follow him.

“Iosef! There you are!” Viggo exclaimed, gesturing towards his son and you. Although you were focused on the older man’s words, you couldn’t help but feel a gaze fixated on you. “My dear, I don’t believe you two have met,” Viggo’s words snap you out of the trance, and you turn your head to the side, taking in the notorious assassin up close. His tall frame clad in a sleek, dark suit that seemed to swallow up the light around him.

“This is-”

“Wick,” his low, gruff voice speaks as he reaches for your free hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. “John Wick.”

You try to contain the grin growing on your face by pulling your lower lip in between your teeth. You couldn’t ignore the sudden spark that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You were enamoured by the mysterious man, and he’s said all of three words to you.

As the evening progressed, you constantly felt the older man’s eyes following you. Occasionally you turned your head to the side and would catch him facing directly at you, only intriguing you more. You and Iosef were just about to leave when you excused yourself to the restroom.

Being the unattentive, doe eyed little thing that you were, you gasped when your face bumped against a hard chest, making you jump back a little. Apologies spew from your lips as you glanced upwards to match the face to the toned figure— immediately shutting you up.

John towered over you, a few strands of his black locks hung in front of his face as he craned his neck down at you. In the narrow hallway to the restroom, you realised there wasn’t enough space to slide past him. Before you could say anything, a pair of hands hug your waist, and John gently turns you to the side, allowing himself to pass by you. Only for a brief moment did his skin meet yours— and how you wished he didn’t let go.

THE SOOTHING WARM WATER was now scorching your skin, as you switched the valve off. Wrapping the soft towel around your wet body, you exited the bathroom.

Standing in front of your dresser, you scavenged to find anything relatively nice looking. Maybe you weren’t allowed to leave the Continental, but surely you could at least mingle at the bar. With furrowed brows, you held two different tops to your chest, focused on your reflection.

Until your eyes met another pair in the mirror.

“What the—” your head whipped behind you, simultaneously dropping the pieces of clothes to the floor as you bumped back against the mirror. You were a deer frozen in headlights. Goosebumps flourishing on your still damp skin, the draft from the window sending chills down your spine.

You watched carefully, the pair of eyes revealing its owner as he arose from the shadows of your room, making your heart drop.

“Wick,” was nothing but a whisper when it fell from your mouth.

“H-How did you get in here?” your breath shallow and your palms began to sweat as you carefully moved to stand in front of your dresser, hands desperately reaching behind your back for anything that could be used as a weapon. John ignores your question, only to slowly creep closer to you.

“Andrei, help!” You cry out, the shrill in your voice echoing off the walls. John purses his lips, taking another menacing step towards you. “Andrei—”

“He’s not gonna help you, little lamb.”

“Andrei!” You continue screaming, praying at any moment he will barge through the doors to rescue you. Your gaze switching between the exit and the assassin in front of you, you contemplate making a run for it.

Stupidly enough, your feet pound against the wooden floor, and with frightened determination, you rush towards the door. Dodging the small nightstand, you nearly trip over your feet before a sudden tug on your towel whirls you back. With a loud yelp, your back collides with the floor and a pain shoots through your side— you can already picture the bruise forming.

“Tsk, you’re gonna have to be quicker than that,” he tuts, before grabbing a hold of both your forearms and lifting you up with ease, like a ragdoll. Your hands immediately reached for your slipping towel, which nearly exposed your breasts. Pulling them up, you silently prayed for anyone in the Continental to have heard the ruckus.

“Where’s Andrei?..” Your words come out in a hushed tone, almost as if you're speaking to yourself rather than to anyone else. “What did you do to him?”

“Not important,” he replies curtly.

“I-It’s against the rules, you couldn’t have killed him—”

“It’s also against the rules to steal another man’s car, and kill his fucking dog,” he sneers in your face, his warm breath hitting your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. The terror paralyzed you and your lips quivered, the sting in your eyes ever growing.

“Let me go! Please, I haven’t done anything,” you beg pathetically. John releases you from his grasp, pushing you towards the satin covered bed. You stumble, holding tightly onto your dirty towel for a source of comfort, cowering under his intense glare as he circled you. Like a predator about to devour his prey.

Like a lamb to the slaughter.

“Neither did Daisy,” he cocks a brow, pain seeping into his voice at the mention of his beloved pet. “Neither did Helen. Innocents get screwed over all the time, what’s one more?”

“Look, John. I’m really sorry for what happened—”

“You will be.”

Your eyes widened, and your throat went dry as you allowed the tears to brim your waterline. You gripped tightly at the top of your towel, holding it closer to you while you tried to maintain some dignity.

John approaches you, standing a mere few inches from your shuddering figure. Your breath hitched as his calloused hand reached for your face, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The assassin was towering over you, his cold eyes scanning over every inch of your body— making you all the more humiliated.

“It’s true what they say..” he mutters, his husky voice hitting your ears. “You really are the prettiest thing in New York.” His hand trailed down from your face, dragging along your shoulder blades, getting lower.. and lower… and low-

“What are you doing?” the words come out like a broken record player. If he planned to strangle you as a means to kill you— you prayed it would be quick. Your skin erupts in goosebumps, like a thousand tiny needles pricking at you, when John’s other hand connects with your side, steadily tugging the towel down.

“Looking at you. Touching you.” An eerie silence casted upon the room when the realisation dawned in. “You looked so beautiful that night. In that dress. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.. Thinking about you.”

His words make you shiver, and your legs clench.

“Wait!” you yelp when you feel him starting to pull the top of your towel down. John inhales sharply, his patience wearing thin. There you were, under his vice grip, pleading for his mercy with those big, bambi eyes of yours. With blood rushing to his cock, and your alluring body just begging for his touch— he could hardly wait any longer.

“Do as I say.”

And you did.

Slowly moving your arm down to your side, the other arm mimicking, the towel unravelled from your body, the quiet thud of it hitting the floor made you wince. You were now completely unravelled before him. Your nipples hardened at the cool wind, and the deep breaths you were taking only accentuated your collarbones. John could tear his gaze away even if he tried, wanting to drink in every inch of your angelic form.

Suddenly, an arm swings behind your knees, causing you to swoon backwards. The soft mattress of the bed hits your back, as John holds your knees up to your chest, putting your glistening cunt on display.

“Oh, you’re enjoying this,” John huffs, a sadistic gleam in his eyes, and you nearly gasp when he slides his index and middle finger in between your slit. Letting out an inaudible whimper as he plunges his fingers deep into your hole, you pull your lower lip in between your pearly teeth.

“J-John.. fuck.”

John, once again, ignores your mewls as he removes his fingers and grabs each knee with one hand to slowly push them apart. Heat blooming in your face, you were burning with humiliation. So vulnerable, so weak… and so wet.

Your heart beats pounding loudly in your chest, you don’t even hear his belt unbuckling or his pants hitting the floor. Through blurred vision, you gazed up into his dark irises, begging for him. To stop, or to keep going, you couldn’t tell anymore.

John leans down, his hand gliding up your torso before taking a handful of your breast as the pads of his fingers tug at your sensitive nipples. His lips collided with yours unexpectedly, his tongue darting between your lips.

“Wait. John, I can’t- you’re too big-”

“For four years… I’ve waited to finally touch you again,” he mutters against your lips, rubbing his cock up and down the entrance of your pussy, teasing you with his tip. “Ever since you showed up on his arm.” Jealous leaked into his gruff voice.

“It’s not gonna fit!” You protest. The sight of his cock between his legs sent chills down your spine.

“Beg me to be gentle.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, the familiar sensation of embarrassment burning in your veins. John was determined to make every moment of this as humiliating as possible, as he drank in every little expression on your pretty face.

“Please… please be gentle with me,” you managed to stammer out.

You let out a loud mewl as John thrusts gently into you, his cock stretching out your little cunt so deliciously. Your nails were desperately clinging to John’s forearms, leaving red crescent shapes. Your breasts bounced with each hard thrust, his cock penetrating deep, his tip kissing your cervix.

“Maybe you were right.” Your neck cranes up and you catch a glimpse of his cock entering in and out of you, the small bulge in your lower stomach. Before you could speak, another high pitched moan escapes your lips when John’s fingers meet your clit, rubbing firm circles. “Think he could fuck you like this?”

You vehemently shake your head, a choked sob caught in your throat when he slams hard into you. “N-No.. mmm, fuckkk!”

“What was that? Use your words, honey” John coos, his lips to your ear as his baritone voice sends chills down your spine. The combination of his digits rubbing against your bundle of nerves along with his deep, passionate thrusts had clouded your thoughts, your mouth hung open with only sinful moans coming out. “Who do you belong to?” he purrs.

“I asked you a question, sweet girl,” he suddenly stops his movements. Your back arches, craving more of his touch and begging for release.

“You! John! You!” You whine frantically, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. “Please don’t stop.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” John whispers, his large cock entering your gaping hole as your fluttering walls clench around him. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you felt your core tighten. John’s groans quietly in your ear as he continues pounding into you, his balls slapping against the swell of your ass. “My good girl. Cum for me, I want the whole hotel to hear you.”

With him still torturing your clit, you jolt at the sudden slap. “Oh— Oh my god, you, John. Y-You, only you—” your mindless babbling only made the assassin smirks deviously at your state. So dumb and cockdrunk off his dick— and only him.

The overwhelming wave of pleasure floods your body as you cream on his cock. John reaches his peak, and fills your pretty cunt with his cum and he removes his hand from your clit before gripping harshly at your hip.

You pant loudly, mind running in circles as you try to catch your breath. John’s cock stayed firmly inside you, his large hand caressing your cheek and trying to get your attention back on him.

“You did so well, little lamb,” was the last thing you heard before your eyes fluttered closed, too overwhelmed to keep your tired body awake. Not that John minded— with you fast asleep, it would make bringing you home a lot easier.

໒꒰ྀིྀི ੭ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ꒱ྀི੭ — taglist : @desoolate @hamburgerslippers @alwaysinblck @emosludge @nwheregirl @beansricejc @sughcashsaiki @namjoons-crabssss @scream-queen-25 @slutforsoldierboy @hamburgerslippers @redhotelroom.

let me know if anyone wishes to be added/removed. ∗ ୧ ‧ ₊ ˚

#dark.josie #nsfw.josie #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick imagine #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick

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bro-atz · 5 months

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dancing with the devil

in which: someone wants you eliminate you from this world, and they hire seonghwa to do it.

pair: assassin!seonghwa/afab!reader

word count: 4k

content: angst, smut, bedroom sex, suspense, murder, seonghwa kinda being a sleazebag, plot twists?, completely consensual (sex)!

author's note: i listened to devil by wonho while writing this, but when arriba comes out, listen to that and read this. also... just know that i am truly very extremely horribly completely sorry for what i have done. (update: after listening to arriba... devil fits better oop)

tag list: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis apply for the permanent taglist here! part one | part two

Seonghwa was the devil. Well, technically, he was human, but he was definitely not an angel. He was smooth, suave, sexy. He was manipulative, having a way with words like no other, and he was cunning, adjusting his plan to fit whatever situation he was in better. Above all, he was dedicated to his career. You could consider him to be Jason Bourne— a ruthless assassin hired by the powerful and feared by most, except he had all his memories and knew exactly what he was doing, and the number one thing that drove him to do what he did was money. Seonghwa was all about that money.

“Ah, Mr. Park. Come, I’ve been expecting you,” Seonghwa’s client greeted him as he entered the office.

Seonghwa looked around. It was a nice office with a stellar view of the city and high end furniture, bookshelves spread across the walls— the office of a corporate lawyer. Seonghwa started doing the calculations on his head on how much money he could milk out of this client.

“Please, have a seat,” the man gestured to the arm chair across from his desk with a smile on his face.

Seonghwa took his seat, crossing his slender legs and leaning back in the chair to make himself comfortable. “So, Mr. Song,” he said with a quiet voice. “Who’s the target?”

Mr. Song’s smile slightly fell, completely taken aback by Seonghwa’s no-shit attitude. Seonghwa was a man who liked to get straight to the point because time was money, and he liked to get through targets quickly.

“This woman, Y/N,” Mr. Song scattered a bunch of photographs on his desk. Seonghwa picked up one of the photos and looked at it as the lawyer continued, “She caught me burying evidence to manipulate a case, and she threatened me that she was going to do more digging and find all the cases I manipulated. I don’t want or need that to happen. Get rid of her.”

Seonghwa looked at the photograph with a straight face, but his heart couldn’t deny it— he was definitely attracted to you, and just through a piece of paper no less. He slightly worried for his sanity upon seeing you in person, but that was a later problem. Right now, he needed more information.

“Alright. Do you need me to follow her around or—”

“No need. She’s going to be at a party tonight for the opening of a new firm. Do it then. I need her gone as soon as possible.”

“Okay, Mr. Song, that’s going to cost you a bit of money for the lack of proper notice—”

“I don’t give a fuck. I’ll give you all the money you want, just fucking do it.”

A slight smirk appeared on Seonghwa’s face. He gestured for the man to give him a pen and post-it note, scribbled an amount on there, and passed it to the lawyer.

“I’ll have my secretary transfer this to you immediately.”

Mr. Song really wasn’t kidding when he said he’d give Seonghwa all the money he wanted— he wrote down six-figures as a joke, but he wasn’t going to say no to free money. He stood up and held his hand out for the lawyer to shake.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Song.”

“Great. Along with the transfer, my secretary will send you a copy of the invitation for tonight’s party. I would like you to get there before she does, then rid of her however you please.”

“Y/N! You should leave your firm and come work with me,” a man said cheerily to you upon seeing you.

“No thanks, Wooyoung,” you responded with a pleasant smile. “I love you and Yunho, but my last name plus Jung and Jeong would not be as cute.”

“If it’s the aesthetic that’s holding you back, then we can just get rid of him,” Yunho appeared by your side the second you mentioned his name. “We’ll be Jeong and—”

“Nope! My name comes first. Ladies first, after all.”

You laughed alongside the managing partners from other firms that had been invited to that night’s party— you knew most if not all of the managing partners and got along with most of them pretty well. There was one man in particular, though, that you were not keen on seeing.

“Looking for me, babe?”

You felt a hand slide along the exposed skin on your back, only for that arm to hug your waist and bring you close. Just from the first touch, you knew exactly who it was.

“Look at you in this dress… This backless, tight, sexy, white dress,” he whispered in your ear. “You look just like an angel. I could just eat you up, Y/N.”

“In your dreams, San,” you pushed the man away, your palm in his face.

“Also, what’re you doing in your free time eating angels?” Yunho questioned San.

“Ever heard of Angel Food Cake, dumbass?”

“So I’m a cake now…”

“Oh yeah, totally babes,” San returned right to your side and brushed his nose past your jawline. “Your ass in that dress? Double cheeked up on a—”

“Jongho! Can you get your horny managing partner out of here?” Wooyoung complained loudly as he locked eyes with the man, Jongho.

“San, I swear to God, I’m going to change our firm name from Choi and Choi to just Choi if you don’t leave that poor woman alone,” Jongho said with a heavy sigh.

“You’ll leave the firm?” San asked.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jongho pinched San’s ear and tugged him away. “We’ll be in the corner learning manners if you need us!”

You, Wooyoung, and Yunho all waved goodbye to the bickering firm partners, and your eyes returned to scanning the crowd. Little did you know that there was a certain someone keeping his eye on you, waiting for the perfect chance to introduce himself as you looked around the room to avoid the lawyer you had major issues with.

“Who are you looking for?” Wooyoung asked you, picking up on your silence.

“Oh, uh, no one really…” you answered trying not to divulge any information.

Before Wooyoung could press further, you heard a deep voice say from afar, “Wooyoung! There you are! Oh, and Yunho? Perfect!”

“Hi, Attorney Kang,” you greeted Yeosang with a wide grin when the man arrived at your little group.

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” Yeosang responded with a wink, intentionally using your first name to subtly flirt with you. “Would you mind if I stole these two jackasses from you?”

“Jackasses?!” Wooyoung and Yunho chorused.

“By all means.”

You laughed as you watched both Wooyoung’s face and Yunho’s face go from shocked to betrayed, and before they could say anything to you, Yeosang was already dragging them away with his immense power.

And so, you stood at the standing table alone, looking over your shoulder so you wouldn’t see Attorney Song or his firm partner, Kim Hongjoong, anywhere. In fact, you were so distracted, that you didn’t realize someone had joined you at the table.

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing alone in a place like this? What if a disgusting senior partner tried to pull moves on you?” the person asked.

“Aren’t you the dis—” you turned to tell the guy off, only to immediately bite your tongue— there was no way in hell you were going to be able to call this man disgusting when he was drop dead gorgeous to the point where he was practically sparkling (making you wonder how you missed his presence in the first place).

“Aren’t I what?” he asked, amusement laced in his question.

“I thought you were someone else…”

“Like who?”

“Well, one of those disgusting lawyers you were talking about… But you definitely are not one of them.”

“No, I am not, angel.”

Along with the nickname, he smiled at you in what you could only describe as genuine and sweet, like he truly wanted to get to know you, and you were drawn to him instantly like a moth to a flame. You held your hand out for him and said, “Y/N.”

Instead of shaking your hand, he completely took you by surprise when he took your hand and left a light kiss on the back of your hand. Your face got hot instantly when he looked up at you with the most incredible sexy and yet soft eyes.

“Seonghwa.”

Not to sound like an absolute sleazebag, but female targets were always so easy for Seonghwa— just give them a few compliments and make them feel like the only girl in the world, and she’s in bed with you in two seconds flat. Also, it helped that he was an attractive man, but regardless, it was that easy for him.

Things with you, however, were different. The compliments Seonghwa fed you were not canned responses that he had at his disposal. They were legitimate. The attraction he felt for you carried from the photographs he saw earlier that day to the real you, and he was truly smitten. Of course, you didn’t know that. All you knew was that this stranger was oddly comfortable and made you want to let down your hair and go wild.

“Tell me the truth, angel,” Seonghwa said to you in a hushed voice as the two of you stood outside the banquet hall against a railing and under the starry sky. “What made you decide on wearing this dress?”

“What, this old thing?” you giggled. “It’s always fun to make the male lawyers ogle, especially the older ones when they’re with their wives.”

“Well, yes, you can do that with this dress, but you can do that with other dresses too. For instance…”

Seonghwa’s fingertips crawled over your exposed waist and to the small of your back, then he trailed a finger up your spine, your back arching and bringing you closer to the railing. You had to stifle a moan the further up your back his finger went.

“You went with a dress that’s shows off the beautiful curves of your waist and is fully revealing in the back,” Seonghwa’s lips were right next to your ear, his hot breath making you flush. He then turned you so that you faced him and continued, “But conservative in the front… When you could’ve found a dress that further enhanced your body. One where the neck line goes from here—”

He traced a line from the middle of your neck down to the space right in between your breasts. “—to here. And one without full length sleeves…”

His fingers tiptoed along your arm from your wrist to your shoulder, his hand then resting on the back of your head. He planted his fingers in the roots of your hair and yanked back roughly, but not painfully, sending tingles down your arms and legs. With his free hand, he hugged your waist and brought you close, your hands automatically holding onto his shoulders. You held your breath as he brought his face close to yours— you automatically shut your eyes thinking he was going to kiss you, but instead he brought his lips back to your ear and said, “However, I’d prefer if you wore nothing. I think other men would too.”

A hint of a smirk lingered on his face as he leaned back to look at your flustered face. You audibly gulped upon seeing the man’s eyes darken. His firm grasp of your hair loosened slightly, but you didn’t want his hand going anywhere. You placed your hand over his and held it while pushing yourself further into him.

“If that’s the case, then I can make that happen for you.”

“Oh yeah?”

Seonghwa held you tighter, his hand rooted in your hair once more. You had one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his shoulder as you gazed into his intense eyes waiting for him to make a move, any move.

“Yeah,” you responded with a nod.

His lips brushed past yours as he responded, “Let’s make it happen then, angel.”

With that, Seonghwa pressed his incredibly posh, ruby lips against yours, electricity running through your entire body. You felt your stomach flip and your pussy heat up the more intensely he kissed you, and fireworks erupted all throughout your body when you felt his hand move from your waist to your breast, only for the man to immediately smile against your lips.

“Ah, I was wondering if you were wearing pasties or not,” he snickered. “You went fully commando tonight, huh?”

“Anything for the dress.”

The second Seonghwa brought you to his place, he tore his suit jacket off, bent you over the kitchen countertop, and pulled the length of your dress up and over your ass, the material bunched up in his fist; and since you had gone commando, the first thing he did was kneel and run his tongue along your folds. Your legs trembled and struggled to keep you upright even with the added assistance of Seonghwa’s firm hands clenching your thighs then ass.

You gasped and looked up to the ceiling as you felt Seonghwa’s insane tongue flick your clit rapidly, waves of pleasure rushing over you one after the other. You were gripping onto the countertop with all of your might, your knuckles just as white as your dress by that point. He continued to suck and slurp your sweet arousal fluid, the noises of him just eating you out enough to send you spiraling.

“Oh, angel…” Seonghwa suddenly pulled away from you when he saw your grip on the countertop (and reality) loosen. “You don’t get to cum yet.”

“W-what do you mean?” you panted and blinked tears out of your eyes while attempting to turn and look at him.

Seonghwa stood up and unbuckled his belt. The belt fell to the ground, and moments later, he had slid his pants and briefs down just enough to release his throbbing, impatient cock. He immediately brought the tip to rub up and down your folds, one hand guiding his dick while the other worked on unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“You only get to cum when I say you can,” Seonghwa said roughly, his low voice turning you on even more— which you didn’t think was even possible at that point.

“Please, Seonghwa… I’m so close…” you whined.

You heard him tear open a condom packet. Seonghwa rolled the condom on, and seconds after teasing you and rubbing the head along your folds, he pushed his way into your dripping pussy, sending your waist into the marble counter. You thought that the impact was going to hurt, but it didn’t, and it was because Seonghwa was holding your waist and bringing you towards him as he thrust into you, making his thrusts twice as strong.

“Ugh, Y/N. You’re so tight— my dick is going to explode,” the man groaned, his lovely voice echoing in your ear.

Then, he changed the angle he was thrusting at. His cock brushed past your G-spot a couple times before stars fill your vision.

“Oh, oh, oh God, Seonghwa! Please, I wanna cum,” you begged him with a sob as you held back your orgasm to the best of your ability. “Let me cum. I want to cum so bad. Please, please, please.”

Hearing you beg and cry for him to let you finish excited him. He bent over and licked your back before whispering, “Go ahead, angel. Cum for me.”

You cried out and gripped the countertop as your legs and torso shook while you came. And, while you came, you clenched so hard that Seonghwa creamed as well, completely filling up the condom he had just rolled on. You heard him swear loudly, the profanity followed by a very sexually arousing groan.

“Fuck, you really did make my dick explode,” Seonghwa let out a light laugh as he pulled out.

While Seonghwa threw the used condom away, you sank to the floor, your legs completely giving out. You were panting and blinking tears out of your eyes as you stared right at the ground, unable to look up in fear of seeing the gorgeous man who just fucked you to heaven and back. Yet, you were forced to look at him when he scooped you off the ground and carried you bridal style into his bedroom.

“Hwa,” you said breathlessly the second you spotted his bed. “Wait, I can’t—”

“Don’t give up on me yet, angel. We’re just getting started.”

Along with his body weight, Seonghwa laid you down on his bed and immediately locked lips with you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe when he shoved his tongue down your throat and groped various erogenous zones on your bare body. You writhed under his touch, your cunt getting wetter and more sensitive.

Seeing you completely wrecked and desperate turned Seonghwa on to the max. He honestly wished he could fuck you to death— what a great ending that would be. Alas, that was not going to happen, so he just had to enjoy you as much as he could before finishing the job. He pushed himself up, rolled on another condom, and quickly thrust into you. Your back immediately arched, and a crying moan immediately left your lips.

“Seonghwa!” you cried as you felt him shoot through you with every thrust. “S-slow down!”

“Sorry, angel,” Seonghwa sighed out erotically. “I can’t stop. You— Ugh— You feel so good.”

You continued to let out loud cries as Seonghwa continued fucking you fast and hard to the point where you could hear the bedsprings squeaks even through the sound of blood rushing to your ears. The intensity of his love-making only increased when he moved your legs so that they were resting on his shoulders, his upper body pressing into you and folding you like a pretzel; yet, you loved it. You wanted him to abuse you further.

“Seong— Angh— Hwa!” you cried as you flung your head back.

“You like that, angel? You like it when I fuck you like this?”

“Ye-es! Oh, God! H-harder!”

“Harder?! You were just telling me to slow down, now you want me to fuck you harder?” Seonghwa asked you with shock, amusement hidden in his words.

“Mmhmm— Hnngh— D-deeper, too!”

Seonghwa wanted to laugh. He did as you asked while suppressing his amusement, sitting up and bringing you with him. He knelt on the bed and had you sitting on his lap to ride him— well, you weren’t riding so much as he was lifting and dropping your ass on his dick repeatedly. You clung to his shoulders and ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, gripping and pulling whenever you felt his cock nearly reach your cervix. Your breathy moans echoed in Seonghwa’s ear, turning the man on further. You planted the lightest hickey on his neck, and he fully lost his mind.

“Seonghwa, I’m— I wanna cum…” you whimpered, your lips right next to his ear.

“You wanna cum?”

Seonghwa leaned back, the fire in his eyes blazing, your mind immediately blanking. You could barely keep it together at that point. You nodded fervently while biting your lower lip. In that moment, Seonghwa snapped. He pinned you down on the bed again and thrust at the speed of light, the slaps of his waist hitting your ass filling up the room. His cock finally hit your cervix, and pleasure washed over you. You tensed up and pushed your head into the pillow behind your head, your nails digging into Seonghwa’s arms.

“Oh, fuck! Y/N, I’m cumming!” Seonghwa groaned loudly.

With a final thrust Seonghwa pushed himself deep into you, spurts of thick cum filling the condom. With a deep, pleasureful sigh, Seonghwa dropped his head and caught his breath. Your heart was still racing, and your chest was still moving heavily as you took long breaths when Seonghwa pulled out.

You laid sprawled out on the bed for a solid two minutes. It was at the third minute that you questioned where Seonghwa went in his own home. You sat up in the bed and looked around, still unable to spot the man. You wrapped one of the bedsheets around you and were about to get up and off the bed when Seonghwa returned into the room swiftly, his lower body covered with clothes.

“You decided to get dressed before helping me?” you asked with a scoff.

“I had to.”

Seonghwa’s words were curt, and his tone was sharp, sending chills down your spine. It was as if in the three minutes he was gone his entire personality flipped. He went from being seductive and romantic to… Someone way worse. His eyes were cold and sharp, and there was no longer a smile on his face.

“Seonghwa, what’s going on?” you asked him carefully.

Your eyes went wide when Seonghwa pulled out a gun from behind him and up for you to see it. Your eyes flitted back and forth from the gun to the man who just fucked you.

“What is this?! What the fuck is going on?!” you shrieked.

You tried to move, but your ass and legs were shot to hell by Seonghwa’s cock, leaving you unable to escape him and getting shot to hell by his bullet.

“I was hired to kill you, Y/N,” Seonghwa said softly— he technically wasn’t supposed to tell you why he was going to kill you but, let’s face it. You were going to die, so it’s not like you could snitch to anyone about it.

“Who?!”

“Attorney Song Mingi. He hired me to murder you. So now, I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything, Seonghwa! He wants me gone? I’ll get out of the country! I just— I don’t understand!”

Seonghwa remained silent. He checked the bullets in the magazine as you stared at him with your jaw dropped.

“So, you fucked me… And now, you’re going to kill me? All of this just happened, and it meant nothing to you?”

Seonghwa quickly clicked the magazine back into place before looking at you and answering, his voice and face devoid of emotion, “It’s not personal, angel. It’s business. I have to do my job.”

“No… Please…”

You thought about shoving him away and mustering up whatever strength you had in your legs to make a run for it, but you knew that he would shoot you dead regardless. You trembled with fear as he approached you.

“Sorry, angel,” he whispered.

Seonghwa cocked the gun and held it right to your temple, the cool metal of the barrel pressing into your skin. You looked up at him, eyes wide, tears streaming down your face. Seonghwa’s resolve flinched— He wanted to fuck the shit out of you and make you look like that because of his cock, not because of his gun. Gritting his teeth, he ignored his impulse and tightened his grip on the gun.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

Seonghwa was wearing a full sleeve turtleneck under his dress shirt the next morning. He self-consciously touched over the fabric the spot on his neck where you left a hickey as he walked into Mr. Song Mingi’s office. He stood by the door and locked eyes with the lawyer.

“Is it done?”

Seonghwa gave him a silent nod.

“Got rid of it?”

“Yes.”

Mr. Song walked around his desk and right up to Seonghwa, offering his hand out for the assassin to shake. Seonghwa shook his hand firmly then immediately let go, trying to make sure the man didn’t see the bandaids on his arms. With a nod, Seonghwa left the office and walked down the hall while taking out his phone, figuring out the location to meet his next client: Mr. Kim.

“Oh, you’re here early, Mr. Park.”

Seonghwa turned around and nearly jumped. Mr. Kim was standing a couple feet behind him with a sober face.

“Mr. Kim?”

“Yes. Come with me.”

The two walked to Mr. Kim’s office, the door immediately closing behind them. The two sat on couches opposite each other, eyes locked on one another.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Kim Hongjoong?”

“I need you to kill Mr. Song Mingi.”

#park seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa ateez #seonghwa ateez #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa smut #seonghwa ateez smut #broatz #Spotify #cromernet

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