Bloodhound

Bloodhound

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación jue, sep 29, 2022
Your blood ran cold and your voice was shaky as the woman slowly corners you, her eyes; black as night, and her face held a foreboding expression as your back was pressed against the cold wall. "Yo-you monster!" You shrieked, but the woman doesn't stop. "Get away from me!" She pins her body against yours, making you let out a whimper as her hands bind your wrists. Her nose brushed against your neck, sending goosebumps as your breath shakes. "Monster?" She chuckles lowly, making your stomach churn as her cold breath fanned your lips. "My," She purred, "You wound me, darling." She used one hand to grip your jaw, forcing you to lock eyes with her. Dark and dangerous. With a hint of mirth. "Why do you think I did this, beloved, hmm?" You didn't answer, instead, you ask: "What do you want from me?" She sighs and tucks a stray strand behind your ear, "I've done all that I can to make you rise among them Y/N, I've dedicated myself to you." She leaned close, her lips dangerously close to yours. "And all I want in return..." She husked "Is for you to love me." _________________ Irene x FEM reader IRENE GP Yandere Irene _________________
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[GP] Jennie Ruby Jane. People mistook her beauty for innocence, but her allure was never pure. It was deliberate, calculated, and devastatingly effective. Every line of her body carried an unspoken promise, and every glance was a test of willpower. A law student in her final year, she knew the power of words and wielded them like a blade-sharp, persuasive, lethal when she chose. Behind her red-painted lips and smoldering eyes was a mind sharper than any cross-examination. Lisa Manoban. A surgeon with ice-untouchable, unreadable. Her hands were steady, her heart carefully stitched shut after a painful past. Her beauty was clinical, almost cruel in its precision, a face carved in marble with eyes that gave nothing back. She spoke in measured tones, as if every word cost more than it was worth, and silence was her favorite weapon. While others sought warmth, Lisa offered only cold truth, her gaze dissecting people the way her scalpel did flesh. Together, they make the perfect storm- temptation and control, fire and ice, heat and emptiness. Can they turn the storm into a perfect weather? Or will the storm keeps swirling around?

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