#I still feel uncomfortable thinking about that lol I don’t even remember the boy’s name. but that situation....

[gatoru]

are there still beautiful things? || natsuo todoroki x reader

synopsis/content warnings: natsuo finds himself coming back to you in times of need. after all, you’ve been doing it for over a decade. (childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, domestic love, SMUT; heavy dirty talking, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint, natsuo is a bit posessive lol, yan!natsuo during dirty talk, idiots in love, not beta read we die like men)

wc: 3k

author's note: i wrote this as a gift for my dear friend @strawberrystepmom ! thank you so much for inspiring me, talking to me and being there for me. i wanted to show you that i really appreciated you :) <3 hope u like it

Natsuo has a habit. 

Such a habit consists of knocking at your door, usually late at night – desperate, big eyes begging for help. He’s been doing it for years, ever since he was merely a lost kid. This time, his head is down and he won’t seem to fully look into your eyes.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” Todoroki breaks the silence, shaky voice leaving his chest with force. 

Truth be told, you knew he’d show up at your small apartment as soon as the news broke, as soon as you saw the scarred man on the television proclaiming to be one of the Todorokis.

Touya. 

You let him in – of course you do. There’s nothing in the world that would stop you from letting Natsuo in your home, and in your heart. 

“Is it true?” 

Your question seems to cut the tension in the air, as a knife ripping the thickness apart. Context isn’t needed: the white haired boy – man – is still staring at the coffee mug you handed him moments earlier. You’re past the point of asking how he likes his coffee, black and no sugar, thank you very much. 

“No. Yes.” He finally looks up at you, dark gray eyes looking for an answer. “I… I have no idea.”

There’s silence once more - only this time, it isn’t thick with tension. It’s still heavy, with a hint of sadness. There’s only so much to be said about a dead brother coming back to life, and becoming evil. Still, you’ve known Natsuo long enough to know what he’s thinking. 

“Touya was dead.”

You uncross your arms, taking your mug from the coffee table in front you. The coffee was running cold already. 

Natsuo is still staring at you. You can’t help but notice there’s a certain resemblance between him and his father – his nose and eyes belong to his mother, yes, but the rest? It 's all Enji. 

You can’t imagine how he feels. 

“Natsuo…” You whisper his name, placing a gentle palm over his hand. “I don’t know what to say.”

He nods, recognizing your truthness. He sighs – a tired one, and exhausted one. 

“I don’t think there’s a lot to be said.” His confession lifts a weight from your chest, and you’re glad you didn’t close your fist around something so delicate. “Just… I don’t wanna go home.”

It’s your turn to nod, knowing exactly what he means. 

-

The first time Natsuo showed up at your door, you were merely kids. 

Your mother answered. immediately recognizing him as one of the Todorokis that lived down the street. Years later, she would tell you the truth: his household was hell on earth. But, again, it wouldn’t take the brightest mind to notice that. 

You were both seven. Or he was eight, maybe. You don’t remember all the details.

However, you do remember the dynamic: he’d come knocking at your door whenever things got rough at home. Your mom would feed him, you’d play video games together, and he’d get a chance at a normal life – even if only for a few hours. 

“Do you wanna play pirates?” You’d ask, a toothless grin plastered on your face. 

Natsuo would smile – as big as he knew how to.

“Yeah.”

-

Needless to say, you didn’t have to show him the guest room. He knows his way around.

You lean against the door frame as he takes his jacket off, throwing it on the chair besides the bed. He doesn’t look out of place, strangely so. The 6’3 man doesn’t look uncomfortable. As a matter of fact, you’ve never seen him look so at home before. 

“Want me to order take out?” He asks, fishing his phone out of his backpack. 

“Only if you’re craving something. Was thinking we’d cook something simple.”

He frowns, gray eyebrows knitting together. 

“If you think I’m staying at your place and let you cook for me, you’re out of your mind.”

“Technically,” You hold a finger up, getting closer to him. “It’s for us.”

He scoffs, mainly in amusement. 

“Absolutely not. My mother would have my head at the sheer disrespect.” 

You chuckle, although not missing the shadow that crosses his eyes at the mention of his mother. 

“Fine. Whatever makes you happy.”

-

“How come I’ve known you for almost 15 years and you still suck at Mario Kart?” He asks, in pure disbelief at your 8th position. 

“It’s hard!” You cry, failing at avoiding another green turtle shell an NPC threw in your direction. The pink car stumbles once again. Peach has always sucked, anyway. 

Natsuo finishes the race in first place, as you see Yoshi celebrate on the top of the screen

“You suck.” He adds, chugging at his can of diet coke and giving you a smirk.

You have to actively avoid acknowledging the butterflies rebelling in your stomach. 

“And you’re mean.”

There’s a hint of playfulness in your tone. He takes the controller from your hand, getting closer to you. He’s so big and warm… so inviting.

“Cry about it.”

Despite the mocking, he finishes the race for you.

-

The first person to defend you from monsters was Natsuo. 

Well, not actual monsters – more like shitty 5th grade bullies. 

The whole playground saw it. An older kid – although the same size as Natsuo – tried to steal one of your toys. The white haired boy puffed his chest, and displayed the meanest face he could. Much like his dad.

“Give it back!” You screamed at the older kid. 

Natsuo, however, didn’t ask. no, he punched the kid. Right in the stomach.

You remember gasping in surprise, but gladly taking your toy back. No one’s ever messed with you again.

It’s only fair you do the same to him every now and then. 

-

“It’s getting late.” You notice, turning the television off. 

“Yeah.” Natsuo gets up from your worn out sofa, towering over you. “I’m heading to bed.”

“Need an extra blanket or something?”

“Nah, I’m good.” He walks towards the bedroom door, turning on his heels halfway there.

“Uh… thanks for letting me stay, by the way. Really means a lot.”

You smile at him. He smiles back.

“Anytime, Natsuo. Knock on my door if you need anything.”

He nods, excusing himself. 

-

Unsurprisingly, Todoroki knocks on your bedroom door a little after one in the morning. 

“Natsuo?” You whisper, sitting up in your bed, still hazy from sleep.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers from the half-opened door, an apologetic look on his face. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Come in.”

He does, gently closing the door after him. 

-

You barely notice the routine established by you and Natsuo.

It’s been a few days since he first came to your place.He didn’t leave – and it’s now like you wanted him too. Having him around is nice. Better than nice. You don’t wanna name what you’re currently feeling.

“I’m home!” He announces loudly, and you almost jump from your spot at the table. Your eyes scan him up and down. 

“Natsuo, what’s all this?” You ask, a hint of curiosity in your voice. 

He lets the paper bags on top of the counter, sighing happily at the sight.

“Went grocery shopping after visiting my dad at the hospital.”

Your shock doesn’t seem to go unnoticed by him, although he doesn’t seem to be in the mood to acknowledge it. Your eyes drift back to the laptop in front of you. 

“Nice.” It’s all you can come up with. 

“Got you your favorite chocolate, by the way.”

-

It’s been two weeks, and Natsuo doesn’t stay in the guest room anymore. 

No, he stays with you. His giant figure can’t possibly be comfortable in your not-so-large bed, but you don’t have the heart to inquire about that. 

“G’night.” He mumbles, curling up beside you. 

“Night, Natsuo.” You whisper back, your words getting softly lost in the darkness. 

Natsuo smells like mint and something fiery. It’s fresh, it screams his name. His white locks gently frame his face, looking like a layer of now. His lips seem soft, plushy and pink. 

Natsuo is sleeping right beside you when you finally name what’s going on with the two of you, although only for you to know. 

It’s love.

Sleepingly, he wraps an arm around you. Despite such surprise, you nuzzle your face in his chest. 

You both sleep the whole night, peacefully – for the first time in a while. 

-

There’s only so much he can hide from Fuyumi, he thinks. 

“Did you officially move out?” His sister shows up in his room – his actual room, at the Todoroki household – as he’s packing another bag. The white room seems empty, soulless. 

Natsuo is taken by surprise. Of course, it didn’t seem like that to him. 

“Uh…” He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding all eye contact. Fuyumi’s eyes look for his, behind thick glasses. She leans against the doorframe. 

“Are you staying at ____’s?”

He nods.

“Good. It’s good to at least know you’re safe.”

Natsuo blushes at his sister’s words, warmth blooming on his cheeks.

“Tell her I said hi.”

With that, Fuyumi leaves him alone.

-

At the dinner table – with food that isn’t take out, cooked by the both of you – Natsuo gets himself looking at you.

Your eyes glistening and your hands moving rapidly as you talk about your day.

His heart swells on his chest when you start speaking about something you love – something related to work, something he can’t quite understand. 

Natsuo realizes he loves you and almost chokes on homemade soba. 

-

That night, when you start your bedtime routine, Natsuo breaks the silence. 

“I…” He starts to speak, and you look at him through his reflection in the bathroom mirror, applying nighttime moisturizer on your face, in gentle circles. 

“Yeah?” You encourage him to actually start speaking, moving your hands like a fan in order to dry the products on your skin.

“I love you, _____.”

You turn around, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Natsuo…” you say his name, like a thousand times before, only this time it feels different.

“I do. Always have, I think. Ever since we were kids. I love you.” He completes, taking a strand of hair from your face. You look at him, incredulous. “I’m not asking for you to love me back, by the way. I just wanted to let you know that I do.”

He’s comfortable with just loving you.

The words seem to come back to you at such an insult. 

“I’m in love with you too, idiot.”

He seems shocked at such revelation, and a stubborn smile starts to blossom on his lips. His eyes seem different now. 

“You do?”

“Natsuo.” You whisper his name again. “I’ve loved you ever since you asked if I wanted to play pirates.”

He bites his lips, grabbing your waist gently. 

“Yeah? What about all the boyfriends? All the other crushes?”

You figure what the hint in his irises mean.

Possessiveness. 

Natsuo towers over you, and it makes your stomach do flips. You mumble something, and he brings you closer.

“Sorry, couldn’t hear that.”

“Was trying to distract myself. From you.”

He smirks, gray eyes becoming wolf like. 

“Yeah, but I’m here now. And if you think I’m letting you go, you’re fucking insane.”

Your lips crash into his; desire traveling through your veins.Your tongues dance against each other, slowly and curious to taste each other. Your breath hitches in your throat as he bites your lower lip, sensually.

“Bedroom?” You whisper against his lips, in between pecs. He nods, smiling against your lips.

-

Natsuo’s shirt and your pajama bottoms get discarded somewhere from the bathroom to your bed. 

Your nails gently scratch his abs, earning a reaction from him. His hips jerk against yours, and you bite back a moan. He looks at you adoringly, passionately. Your heart explodes in fireworks. All the movies and poems, books and songs about love make sense now. 

“So pretty.” He mumbles against your neck, placing open mouthed kisses on your sensitive skin. 

Natsuo takes his shirt off while your hands discover his body, reaching his gray sweatpants. The volume behind the soft fabric makes you smile, devilishly so.You gently grab his erection, playing with him a little, in order to discover more of his pretty sounds. 

He groans, grinding his hips against you. 

“You’re evil. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Whatever leverage you thought you had is gone once he takes his bottoms off, as his dick gloriously stands against his abdomen, with heavy balls hanging below it. Your mouth slightly falls agape at his thickness as he gently strokes his cock. 

Natsuo finally removes your panties, slowly. He’s taking his sweet time with you, despite your constant squirming and whines. 

“You know,” He whispers, husky voice sending a shot of desire right to your core. “when we graduated high school and you told me you lost your V card to some jackass, I tried my best not to go after the bastard. After all, it wasn’t my right to.”

His fingers ghost over your now exposed pussy, feeling your sticky wetness. 

“And before that, you confessed to me how you’d use the showerhead to finish, cause your fingers couldn’t do it. They’re not thick or long enough. Can’t reach all the right places, right?”

You nod, eating his words up. Slowly, your hips start to move against his hand, but Natsuo seems to not be having any of that. He places a strong hand on your waist, holding you down. He doesn’t need words to make you obey him. 

“I wonder if mine can?” He asks, pushing a single finger inside of your gummy walls. Whining, you throw your head back due to his unsatisfactory rhythm. He pushes the digit in and out, curving his finger a bit. 

“What, baby?” He purrs, swallowing your moans with open-mouthed kisses. “What d’you want?”

A bubble of warmth starts to bloom on your lower abdomen, sending a white-hot feeling through your entire body. There’s sweat, there’s spit, there's desire. You feel like your body might combust at any given moment. 

“More, please. Need more.” You manage to babble, eyes getting glossy over the neediness. 

He obliges your wishes, shoving another finger into your needy cunt.

“Fuck baby, yo’ure so fucking sexy. ‘ve been dreaming about this for so long.” He confesses, shortly after sucking a love bite on your collarbone. 

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, feeling your pussy clench on his thick fingers. Right as you feel the tension start to explode inside of you, he removes his digits.

“Natsuo!” You cry, in a needy way. “C’mon, please.”

You’re not even sure what you’re asking for anymore. He smiles at you, sickeningly sweet. His white hair glues against his forehead, messy silver locks. Natsuo’s face is flushed with desire, a light shade of pink decorating his cheeks. 

“Want my cock, baby? Huh? Want this as much as I do?” His clean fingers gently hold your jaw open, as he places the stained ones on your mouth. You suck on them, tasting yourself and making such dirty sounds that make him grunt. 

“Yes, please. Want your cock inside me. Want you to fuck me, Natsuo” You beg, mumbling through his fingers. “Make me yours.”

The last words seem to fire a light inside of him, as he smiles at you wolfishly. Natsuo grabs his erection, teasing the tip on your wet entrance. You give him a fucked out smile, softly moaning at his actions. 

“You’re such a tease, _____. I’ve been fantasizing about your sweet, tight pussy forever.” He groans, finally pushing his fat cock inside of you. It stretches you in the most delicious way, hitting spots you’ve never reached before — nor your or anyone else. 

He grabs your legs, folding them against your chest, and you whine at the new found angle. It’s so deep, he’s so big. It’s overwhelming.

“Fuck, Natsuo! So good, so fucking good.”

He makes a strangled noise in return, picking up the rhythm. The slapping sound of his balls against you is filthy, and it only adds to the feeling. Natsuo – who’s usually very well composed and controlled, looks wild and predatory. 

“Yeah, am I fucking you good baby? Am I fucking you dumb, so dumb you can’t even talk properly?”

You whine, only nodding in response. The bubble of warmth starts to grow on your abdomen again.

“Fuck, fuck.” He groans. “Are you on the pill?”

Rapidly, you nod, silently consenting what you know he’s actually asking for.

“Gonna feel you up so good, baby. Gonna make you mine.” He places a couple of digits against your puffy clit, rubbing them in circles, and you cry even louder. 

“Cum for me, baby. Can feel you clenching down on me. Go ‘head, I got ya.”

You feel the Earth stutter on its axis as a white hot feeling explodes on your tummy, making your legs shake. Waves of fire travel through your entire body, as your vision slightly fades to black. You can feel Natsuo spill inside of you, with a groan of your name against your ear. 

You stay like this, for a moment, lost in blissful silence. Hissing, he removes his now soft dick from inside of you, his cum spilling out. Slowly, your breathing comes back to normal and you sit up, finding your lover with a wet cloth on his hands. 

Gently, in between soft kisses and praises of “you did so good for me” and “love you, love you so much”, he cleans you up, just enough so you won’t be too uncomfortable before summoning the energy to go shower with him. 

“I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you too.”

Natsuo looks at you, adoringly, slowly taking in the fact that you’re his. The only thing he’s ever chosen in life, the only thing that actually belongs to him, he won’t have to share. 

He smiles at the feeling. 

“Mine.” He whispers, before kissing you one more time. “Now let’s take a shower, stinky.”

[nct-charlee]

Jaemin + Charlee (CharMin)

“Charming. That’s what we are. ”

masterlist // NCT DREAM

(korean, english)

warning: NONE.

a/n: but hi everyone !!! so sorry for literally disappearing from the face of the earth for almost a year (yikes!). when i first started writing and thinking up Charlee i had the time and energy to finally write something. but the more i wrote and the less i saw people actually engage in my work was extremely disheartening. it was a really hard thing to consider but i just couldn’t write without thinking of what people would think of my work (if they would even read it LOL). at that same time i started falling out of love with kpop and kpop content and so it made no sense to keep doing something i found no joy in doing. BUTTTT i finally gained that spark and started following NCT and RIIZE!! writing charlee and her story was one of my favorite things to do and i really missed it i think. so her story lives on!! and there’s someone on the way, coming very very soon 😉

WC:

First Meeting

“She was and is so-” (all the members start groaning, Chenle and Haechan start saying ‘la la la I can’t hear you’)

“-pretty” (Staff coo while all the members starts booing causing Jaemin to just smile wider)

It was right after the meeting to reveal that Charlotte would in fact join NCT dream

Charlotte was the last in the room, still trying to rack her brain. she was going to debut

Not just that she was going to debut in a boy group, all different things going on in her head

Jaemin had seen her around, in passing. They had not once said anything to each other though

“She was still bawling in the office and I felt so bad. I don’t even remember what I said exactly, but I remember comforting her.”

Jaemin had realized he hadn’t seen her and decided to go see where she was

He had just been put on hiatus for his back and had a feeling Charlotte was probably feeling horrible, she probably thought she was replacing him

When he came in she had her head in her hands and was sobbing. He quickly walked inside and closed the door, coughing slightly so she could hear him

She quickly tried to wipe her tears, before sniffing out “Sorry, I’ll get out soon…”

“No, no, You’re fine. I was actually looking for you,” He smiles softly. “I just wondered if you wanted to go and get some snacks with me?”

“Um, okay. Sure?”

Jaemin laughed a little and held his hand, taking hers and leading her to the nearest convenience store

Fan Favorite Moment

During “Boom” it was obvious that Dream was going in a darker and more mature era

Slowly her clothes got short and tighter until she all she could do was place her hands around her to at least have a little modesty off stage

It was also when staff realized she was in fact the same height as multiple members, if not taller

When people would bring up her height, he often would often try to change the subject, knowing she was uncomfortable with talking about it

He was also silently helping her with her clothes

Covering her with blankets or towels during variety or awards shows. If nothing was around he would use his own jacket, not caring that he was going to get a earful from the stylists

One time, the camera man started zooming in on her. He immediately jumped into frame and started smiling and waving his finger ‘no’.

When Charlee finally notices the camera she waves and they both start joking around

It’s still unclear if the camera persons intentions were bad or good

On Screen

“We are very charming so Charmin is us!”

Popularity: 9/10

Nicknames: Baby, Honey, Jagiya…that’s it, only endearing names

Best couple right here (I mean whatttt??)

They are so loved that even the biggest scandals that have come from DREAM was because of them, but they got cleared immediately when people realized it was about them

Clingyyyyy

Again one of the few members to show affection on screen

Jaemin while being the perceived “loudest” in variety content, Charlee is perceived the “loudest” during vlogs and trip content. In both occasions they balance each other out

Either calming each other or bringing the other out of their shell. A slight graze of each others arm is all they need to know that they’re either doing “too much” or “too little”

Off Screen

Still touchy, if not more so

Off camera Charlee is quite unserious and is seriously the joker AND a big yapper

Being the same but total opposites at the same time translates even off screen

Charlee is not shy to run up to him and hug him randomly, or call him randomly to say “I have to pee”

There’s no such thing as TMI between them and she makes sure he remembers that

One of the first tattoos she had gotten was dedicated to 8dream, each member had a little doodle she drew that reminded her of them

His was a cup of coffee in a ying and yang-esque way. One half being darker (his namericano) and one half being a milk-coffee (her 70:30 creamer and milk to coffee ratio)

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 2

read part 1 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: light angst, mention of drugs/alcohol

a/n: hey, thanks for all the love on the last part! i promise I'm not churning these out like crazy lol, i wrote the first chapter way before posting it here. not a lot of ethan in this one because we have to flesh out the lore, but i make up for it with some tara/sam angst! yippee!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe it. I actually can’t believe it.” Chad’s eyes are wide with amazement. “Y/N, at a loss for words? Because of a guy?”

“Dude, I’m telling you, it happened!” Tara said.

I was beginning to get tired of this back and forth. 

Friday nights were usually fun, the whole gang gathered in Tara’s room, getting ready for the night’s festivities (in this case, a house party at the Woodsboro Community College), but today, my friends seemed more interested in rehashing today’s lunchtime events.

“Do you know what his name was?” Anika asks.

“Oh god, please don’t egg them on,” I groan. “No, I didn’t catch it.”

“Hey, he didn’t throw it, either,” Tara teases. “He was probably just as nervous. The dude could barely even make eye contact with her.”

Chad sits up on Tara’s bed. “What did you say he looked like?”

“Uh, tall, really tall. Curly brown hair? He was new, I’d never seen him before. And neither had Tara, so don’t chalk it up to my being a newcomer.”

“Wait. Oh my god.” Mindy suddenly chimes in. “I know who he is. His name is Ethan Landry, he’s in my American History.”

I can’t lie; I’m excited by this. “Really? Why haven’t we seen him before?”

“Because he just moved here.” She grins. “Hey, I thought you’d given up on high school boys, anyway.”

I tinge pink. “Never say never, I guess?”

Chad and Tara whoop. Anika rolls her eyes at them. “Do you think he’ll be there tonight?”

I scoff. “I doubt it. We already have to lie about being college students to get in, anyway.”

Tara’s eyes glimmer. “Hey, you never know. That means you have to get extra dressed up for tonight, just in case he’s there.”

I am not prepared for one of Tara’s evil-genius machinations, especially not a makeover. But I entertain the fantasy for a second too long, and she takes my silence as agreement. 

That’s how I find myself in one of Tara’s old dresses, a strappy black thing that hangs too low on my chest for my liking. After fighting over it for a long while, she eventually agrees to add a long-sleeved top underneath, if only to stop my whining.

Yet even though my getting-ready process was the most involved, I’m still the first one downstairs, which is typical. I’m debating whether or not to run for the hills and go home when Sam comes through the front door.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. Is Tara upstairs?” She sets down a few bags of groceries and turns to lock the four deadbolts freshly nailed to the door. 

“Hey, Sam. Yeah, she is. I think everyone will be down soon.”

There’s an uncomfortable energy between us. Sam has never liked me much. Not because of my character or anything, as Tara has reassured me, but she’s overly wary of outsiders ever since last year’s attack. I try not to blame her, but I can’t help but feel a little hurt when she keeps her distance, giving me a once-over instead of asking about my day.

The tension is broken when I hear the rest of the gang come down the stairs. Sam smiles when she sees Tara, but it fades when she notices that we’re all dressed up. “Hey, Tar, where are you guys going tonight?”

Tara shifts her weight from foot to foot. “My friend at Woodsboro Community College offered us an in, so… we’re taking advantage of our youth?”

Sam’s face darkens. “No. No way, Tar. You remember the last time someone had a party around here? We nearly died.”

“Jesus Christ, Sam,” Tara groans. “You were out of my life for five years now you can’t let me be alone for five minutes..”

I look at Chad, uncomfortable. He slightly shakes his head at me– better not to interfere.. Still, I feel like I have to say something. “Hey, Tara, maybe she’s right, we could just–”

Tara whips around to glare at me. “You’ve got to be kidding, Y/N. Butt the fuck out.” Her words sting, but I step back and sit on the couch.

“I’m not interested in living in the fucking past, Sam,” she continues. “I’m not gonna let what happened to me for three days define me for the rest of my life.”

Sam is quiet. I expect her to snap, to yell at all of us, but she just stares at Tara for a few seconds.

Finally, she picks up her bag again. “Alright. Fine. Go to the party, bring your taser, or not, I don’t care. I won’t be here when you get back.”

Tara’s eyes widen. “Wait, Sam. Wait. I’m sorry, I–”

“No, it’s really fine.” She glances around the room, where the rest of us are trying to blend into the shadows. “I hope you guys have fun. If some psycho killer tries to get you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With that, she marches upstairs, and I hear her bedroom door slam and lock. 

No one knows what to say. Tara turns her back, and I see her wiping away angry tears. Without looking at us, she opens the front door. “Okay! Who’s ready?”

“Tara, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Anika says. “We can stay back if you want, I mean–”

“Nope! What I want is to get so shit-faced I don’t remember this conversation. Let’s go.”

My stomach still feels hollow, but I silently follow Tara out of the door. Anika and Mindy follow close behind. 

Chad takes a second before making up his mind. He grabs his keys. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go, then.”

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies; more about the Prison Warden comic, a follow-up about snz hcs, one about Lilia’s fucked up experiences and some other stuff~

Anonymous asked:

Yeah, I can tell Riddle will be uncomfortable. I wonder if fellow wardens noticed his disappearance.

Oh imagine them not noticing. After three days or so they’d go “hm, I wonder why it’s so chill around here these days” LOL

Jokes aside, I think Heartslabyul boys would notice pretty quickly. It’s easy to notice Riddle’s absence because he is never late and never skips work. But unfortunately, even if they notice his disappearance at the end of the shift during which the escape/kidnapping happened, it’d be too late...

Anonymous asked:

Will you have plans for more in the prison Warden au?

Not necessarily any plans, but I do want to come back to it again! It’s like things always are with our AUs: sometimes we randomly remember them and add more stuff to them.

Anonymous asked:

i know you don’t play genshin, but i think idia would and…

(spoilers for inazuma and raiden shogun’s story quests!!!!)

there’s an electric samurai goddess named raiden shogun (or ei) and in her story you find out she’s trying to “freeze” her nation in eternity. you find out it’s bc she’s so traumatized by the death of her twin sister in a great war that she built herself a doll to possess and locked herself in an alternate dimension, and is now trying to prevent time from moving or the world from changing to never have to feel that level of grief and loss ever again. it’s very clear losing her sister severely traumatized her. and in her story quests, she actually talks to a ghost/vestige of her sister’s soul, where she finally gets closure, a lot like the end of book 6. she’s not fully healed but has begun to realize that grief is not the end of the world, and that there is still many things to love and enjoy in its changing nature.

all this to say…. i think this particular character would have idia sobbing on the floor before he gets up and pulls out his wallet to whale on her LOL

The themes really are similar huh 🤔 I wonder how Idia reacts to the theme of loss and grief in media in general. Does it hit too close to home and makes it uncomfortable for him to watch/play or would he get so defensive that he would shit on such stories for being cliché (despite being so similar to his actual life experience)?

In any case, I love imagining Idia sobbing because something felt eerily close to what he experienced. Whale on her, Idia, you deserved it... It won’t make you feel better, but you’ll have a cute anime lady to look at!

Anonymous asked:

Rook every kink ever is the most beautiful thing in the world. Thank you so much for being sweet about the snz ask, not anon but thats my kink and it's one that has a lot of shame around it. Your hcs are really good (the non snz ones too ^_^), i especially enjoy Silvers, Lilias and Riddles, I feel myself like Idia or Azul would have allergies they hate having ( being less accustomed to plant life / flowers ). < It is also a kink that can function much the same as inflicting humiliation or exerting control, finding it hot to see someone struggle against their own body and reactions. I like to hc Vil and as having this facet of a snz kink as he likes to maintain control when others can't, using to play with ( read: affectionate torture ) Rook. If you ever elaborate on any snz concepts you definitely have fans >_<

No problem, Anon! We honestly had no idea about this kink and the stigma around it, so I am very happy you enjoyed the hcs and our approach in general. I learned a lot while writing it and while reading your ask too! Totally agree about Idia or Azul having annoying allergies, it sounds like something that would suit them a lot. Rook and Vil do have their private little games, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they did this thing too... Even though this isn’t my cup of tea.

Unfortunately I don’t know if I can elaborate further than what I’ve already written in the post; I pretty much shared all of our thoughts lol But it’s good to hear that this kind of topic is also welcomed!

Anonymous asked:

i’m thinking about how you said in your noncon ask lilia did a lot of fucked up shit when he was younger. do you think he’d try anything like he did before again? maybe to see if modern youngsters could handle it? i want to see him experiment his various darker kinks with the bottoms >:3c

Good question, Anon~

I think, in general, Lilia doesn’t want to do the majority of stuff he used to do before anymore because it would either injure the boys in a way that isn’t fixable (he didn’t care about it when he was fucking his enemies left and right oop-) or would even require them to be seriously injured in the first place (or dead...). So a lot of stuff that General Vanrouge used to do is a “no-no” for him now, BUT.

1. He’ll still talk about it and describe everything with juicy details for his little bottom to think that he is either making a sick joke or is the worst human being imaginable.

2. There is a lot of stuff he’d still do~ >:3c

I think the trajectory would be to start having sex with a boy, and then if the boy reacts well to Lilia being rough, dangerous or straight-up cursed, he’ll get even worse. Lilia is only good at self-control when he doesn’t hear sexy whimpers and doesn’t see teary eyes under him.

Like you said, Lilia really does think that boys these days are much more tender than they used to be, and he had to tone himself down a lot. But the old man gets nostalgic, and if tickled right, he can get carried away very easily~

He’d absolutely try knifeplay, bloodplay, hanging/choking (this one is hard to do without it being lethal...), intoxication and some other things. Let’s just say thank god Idia is a masochist (he is?).

[transboysokka]

Chris rewatches and liveblogs the awful The Last Airbender movie for the first time since it was released 13 years ago

ok I saw this once when it was in theatres when I was in high school and I never watched it again. I remember being disappointed and uncomfortable originally

I only remember Aang was pronounced differently and Katara was some blonde chick I remember literally nothing else so here we go

oh damn ok right away the bending animation is kind of giving but the weird cursive stylization of the element names in the intro… not a fan bc my bad Chinese reading self can’t read it and I wonder if that’s even like a real style lol I wouldn’t be surprised either way

Also like just KEEP the TV intro instead of plagiarising but a little to the left?? sorry I know I’m nitpicking

Why are Katara and Sokka like MAGA-white that’s SO uncomfy

Sokka is not giving me the correct vibes

Why would Katara go with Sokka to go hunting?? p sure that happened in the cartoon too but ???

Already changing my mind about the costumes and possibly the Sokka vibes

Okay Aangs tattoos fuck actually

Okay yeah the tone of this whole thing is so boring I can’t put my finger on it yet like something is DEFINITELY missing

Okay yeah the costumes suck

ZUKO??? why is his hair so boring why is his scar so tiny

Gran Gran is white too?? but all the other villagers aren’t lololol okayyyyy

First impression of the sets (like the SWT village were good) but actually they suck they make ZERO sense there are just like open windows and no door?? But it’s cold outside???

OH NO what did this film do to Appa I’m so sorry sweetie look how they’ve massacred my boy

IS THAT UNCLE IROH IM AHSJDKLFNFGSJSKD

EEROH again I guess that’s more accurate but WHY

The vibes in this movie are all off lolol how did Nickelodeon endorse this?????

Still not sure why this feels so flat like I really don’t care about anything happening?? Maybe bc the original show is so character driven and this movie hasn’t even let us get to know any of the characters?? I remember thinking the first time I watched this that it moves way too fast so I guess this all could come down to a pacing problem

Gran Gran’s explanation to like send them after Aang makes no sense at all actually

I know they were trying to be like accurate with the costumes (a laugh tbh) but I do think it was a mistake to get rid of the color associations

MOMO OH NO I’m so sorry sweetie

Again with the air temple set, the vibes are right but it doesn’t look quite like anything I ever saw in SEA or in research...

The sequence where he finds out the airbenders are gone is pretty good. Seems they could do more with that than in the show but okay now he’s having some weird vision with a dragon????

Wait Soe-ka? Knock it off w the names I s2g where is the franchise continuity

Are the gonna explain the weird ass dragon vision??

The FN ships are so bad

Zhao is not creepy enough. Asshole enough though.

I KNOW I’m nitpicking but even the food seems wack

Weird that the firebenders seem to be only able to manipulate fire here, not create it

I do wonder about the authenticity of the costumes. I’ve heard they suck but I’d be fooled which begs the question, why not just BE authentic to the cultures they’re supposed to represent

Is it the acting that’s flat here, the writing, or the directing? Whose fault is it??

Interesting choice to have the earthbenders imprisoned within reach of their own element. I kind of like that, showing how defeated their spirits really are

Of course they gave away Katara’s motivational speech

These bending motions CANNOT be based on real martial arts lmfao it seems so clunky

Wild how I just don’t care about any of these characters lol

The writing isn’t ALL bad like I actually like the way different plot elements were connected for the sake of the movie but the execution is just so bad

Princess Yue leads the NWT? Again… a Choice

Wild how they are leaving the best episodes out of this narrative. Like the ones that gave the characters life

LOVE that there’s an African-inspired Earth Kingdom village, I’ve been thinking about this concept a lot actually

Why does the Fire nation look like that?? Why does Ozai look like that??? Why are we introducing Ozai already I don’t like that choice either???

I HATE the Fire Nation aesthetic SO MUCH

Ozai is not evil enough AT ALL

I DO like the creative directions they took w diversity in the Earth Kingdom like in different towns

AGNI KEE I’m

Aww lil Azula is cute

What a weird ass way to fit in Zuko’s backstory. Again, I don’t find myself caring about it at all

Starting to really hate the bending actually. The elements don’t seem to be interacting w the movements of the bender at all

The statue room looks cool

The dragon again wtfff

The Blue Spirit. Cool but it doesn’t hit as hard bc we don’t CARE about Zuko or his past and tbh it probs won’t make any sense to a casual viewer anyway

Also why does his mask need to come with a wig I mean it looks so unserious

Iroh just creeps me out idek why

OH we’re blowing up Zuko’s ship NOW okayyy

Aww some Sokka/Yue vibes but it’s a real shame I don’t give a shit about this version of Sokka

I think one reason I don’t like this version of bending is it takes so much handwavinv before anything even starts happening

Not digging this NWT aesthetic either tbh

Pakku??? Why does he look like cheap knock off Theodin? Why is he like… nice???

Why is Aang trying to talk to this Dragon Spirit and not like… Roku?

Wild how the one thing they left the same from the actual show was how Zuko snuck into the NWT lol

Hate the spirit oasis, actually

Least helpful Dragon Spirit ever

Cool that iroh is the one who can make fire out of nothing (he obviously taught Zuko) but lolol what a random time to do that

Okay the scene between Yue and Sokka before she turned into the moon was nice. Probably the most emotion we’ve seen in the whole movie

More morbid that her body is still there though lol

And no Ocean Spirit to fuck things up??

Drowning someone w waterbending is very dark but actually a great touch

I like this idea of Aang mourning his people and using that to harness his waterbending and then he can beat the FN on his own without a spirit’s help. That’s nice.

Also the music for that scene was nice. The only good soundtrack all movie too

So he’s just scaring them with water?? Lmaoooooo not even like killing anyone they just all ran away?? that’s actually…. A fucking terrible plot point never mind

Sweet he gets another chance to like. Accept his role as avatar and bow back to everyone?

AZULA

Okay yeah that was AWFUL

[armandjolras]

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

💖 What made you start writing?

(Sorry for the big pile of questions!! 🤣❤️ Take as long as you need w the answer!)

🥺 Ooh yes, when characters feel nostalgic about something that happened long ago in the fic or in canon, it always makes me feel like I’ve gone on a long journey of growth with the character! Especially if characters in a ship are looking back and seeing how much they’ve changed, but realising they still care for each other.

✨ already answered!

❌ The only thing I can think of is content I’m personally uncomfortable with (mostly dealing with consent issues). Besides that, there’s not really any specific tropes I’m opposed to! I’ve often thought I’d never write a particular type of fic and then suddenly wanted to, so even if I disliked a trope I might change my mind someday.

✅ already answered! Oh actually I thought of another one. I think I have a tendency to say “[character name] smiled” before lines of dialogue wayyy too much so I’m working on switching that up 😂

🤯 For fic genres specifically, I really struggle to write fluff. Maybe it’s because of the fandoms I’m, but I feel like my fluff writing is out of character, and I also have trouble keeping it interesting if there’s not a lot of drama or conflict or toxicity lol

💖 For writing in general, I don’t remember — I’ve been writing ever since I was a kid (back then, mostly cringy dramatic love triangles where two girls fought over a boy 😭). For fic, I first got into it because there was a group writing event and I was hoping to make friends! That’s a big reason why I’ve kept writing fic, the collaborative aspect of it

[thomine]

truthful rumours : cyno

shouldn’t the rumour be dead after frequently hounding others that it was fake? he’s not wrong, but things are… complicated.

pair: cyno / reader info: secret relationships, repost word count: 1.3k links: work tag note: beta'ed by the lovely @/andromeda-nova-writing when this was posted, lol.

“I love you.”

The man can’t look at you. His hands bolster a bouquet of roses and padisarahs to shield his face. Instead of aiding his claim, it steals your attention. To have the flowers pruned and arranged probably cost more than the average spent by a customer in Puspa Cafe.

It takes a minute of silence for you to remember you haven’t given him a reply.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, pushing the bouquet away. You want to address him but can’t recall his name. It has only been a month since he arrived, and he’s barely even conversed with you. “I appreciate the effort, but… I can’t return your feelings.”

He’s jumpy, frantic, and you almost feel apologetic as he freaks out. Something behind you catches his eye, hardening his gaze. The anxious boy you saw flies out the window. Before you can turn to confirm what it is, his question throws you off.

“Is it because the rumours are true?”

You scrunch your eyebrows in perturbation. You’re just an ordinary employee of Puspa Cafe. It doesn’t sit right with you that you’ll be involved in rumours. Hardly anyone remembers your name unless they’re filing a complaint. But, there is someone whom you’ve grown close to that constantly has murmurs and secrets attached to his name.

You give him a quizzical look. “What rumour?”

“The rumour that you’re dating the general mahamantra.”

Shouldn’t the rumour be dead after frequently hounding others that it was fake? He’s not wrong, but things are… complicated. 

“Putting your feelings aside, what makes you think that?” You didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but he pulls himself back as if you’re some desert scorpion ready to sting.

“Well, he walks you home when you end your shift…” he mutters, looking down. It’s the third time someone raises your walks home with Cyno to start prying into your love life.

“Okay, but we live near each other and there have been reports of increased criminal activities. I don’t think anything about it is inherently romantic,” you chide, hands on your hips. You wonder if whatever caught his eye before is still there, listening to the conversation.

“Then let me walk you home, since there’s nothing inherently romantic about—”

“Wait a minute,” and you place both hands in front of you to create distance. “I think you should think before you speak. Just a minute ago, you confessed you had romantic feelings for me and I rejected you.”

He nods, blankly staring at you. Your point completely misses him if not (or at least you hoped) it would slap him across the face. 

“Aren’t you a storyteller?” you jeer, “If you harbour romantic feelings and walk home with that person then it’s obviously romantic? I’ve already rejected you, so anything romantic involving both of us would make me… how do I put this… I’ll be uncomfortable.”

“But how can you be so certain that the general mahamantra doesn’t possess romantic feelings for you?” His eyes glint with mischief.

You blink, taken aback at the conversation’s progression. Usually people drop the topic once you’ve explained, as nonchalantly as you can, that every act is proof of your close bonds with him and shouldn’t be understood otherwise.

It is expected that he’ll push you to a corner though, you did provoke him. Luckily, you’re prepared. Perhaps a little too well, many nights spent pondering.

It’s hard to pin if your hesitation is due to your faith in your answer—10 reasons why anyone can be certain Cyno doesn’t like you romantically. It’s an arsenal you don’t want to use. Saying it out loud feels like admitting that maybe, even if it’s slim, Cyno probably doesn’t like you as much as you believed.

There are pockets of truth in your lies at the end of the day. Like how the routine of walking home together is for your safety, and how your house is a road away from his so it won’t inconvenience him unlike the new employee.

You hear your name being called. What perfect timing; you guess Cyno has been listening all along.

“Am I interrupting something?” he says with crossed arms, his menacing aura clashing with the pride of the new employee. There seems to be a second conversation in the way their gazes fight.

The new employee hides the flowers behind his back after lowering his head. “I suppose it is late,” the new employee says. “As much as I’d like a reply, whatever suits your boat. I just… hope you’ll give me a chance if the rumours are false.”

Cyno grunts. His slightly scrunched face indicates he has a comment, but he remains quiet. When his rival leaves, he looks at you, eyes unwavering.

“Ready to head home?” He asks.

The answer to the new employee’s question is at the tip of your tongue. You push it aside to reply, but it leaves a bitter taste. 

“Yeah. Sorry if you had to wait.”

“Not a problem.” 

The cafe has been void of customers since 30 minutes ago. It’s a different situation when you step out behind Cyno. Eyes watch both of you as you maintain distance no matter how much you want to grab his hand.

You’ve escaped an interrogation, which is enough questioning for a tiring day. Anyways, you have the answer you’ve swept aside to entertain.

After all, how long has it been since Cyno did something you couldn’t explain through the views of friendship?

“I love you.”

Even in the dimness of the night, you can’t deny the weight of Cyno’s gaze on you. True enough, you meet with his red eyes. They glimmer under the banners of moonlight slipping through the dense canopy. It’s the gentlest stare you’ve come across, a refuge compared to a citizen’s look whenever you’re out with Cyno.

It takes a minute of silence for you to remember you haven’t said it back. However, they’re stuck in your throat, fighting for space with laughter that wants to burst from your chest.

“I refuse to believe you like me that way,” you tease instead, a giddy smile plastered on your face as you titter. The prior event flashes in your mind like a film, and the current irony amuses you. “I mean, shouldn’t you be freaking out after telling me how you feel?”

He doesn’t seem offended. It can be hard to tell without noticing the subtle changes in his expressions, but he replies calmly.

“This isn’t some badly written romantic comedy so, no, I shouldn’t and wouldn’t be freaking out. We’re not children anymore.”

You giggle, not wanting to guffaw and attract unwanted attention, ending this pleasant moment.

“I mean it when I say I love you,” Cyno whispers, taking your hand. You gasp at the sudden contact, but the shock dies when you remember only the trees and critters are your audience. “I don’t know how you would reply to his question, but I didn’t want to hear it.”

You interlace your fingers with his. “I didn’t want to say it either. Sometimes, I’m too convincing.”

He bends to pluck a sweet flower before passing it to you, “I’m sorry I can’t say it more or do more to show it.”

You take a whiff of its scent and want to tuck it behind his ear—

There’s rustling of the bushes. You drop the flower. It crunches as Cyno swiftly adjusts his grip on your hand. He spawns his spear while you prepare a series of explanations for your close proximity with him if anyone inquires. From holding your hand in preparation to run to preventing you from fleeing too far from him in fright.  

After a beat of silence, he keeps his spear. The sparks in the atmosphere from elemental usage dissipates. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Cyno,” you say as you tug his hand. Although there were plenty of anxieties built up over years—after falsifying every action to the point you almost believed the hole you dug was your grave—his words are a wave of reassurance, and even if brief, it’s all you really need. “It’s okay, I understand.”

You lean in and kiss him on the cheeks in the cover of the night. The warmth on your lips tells you enough.

“Just promise me that you’ll be safe,” you add.

“I will be.” He lets out a tiny breath. “But you—”

You gingerly press your index finger against his lips.

“I’ve lied to others for years now. Although, yes, at times I fall prey to my own words, but you’re always there when I need you, right? Like now. You don’t have to worry.”

It’s sad to hide, but what else can be done when falling in love with someone who has a dangerous vocation? Even if it breaks your heart that every moment together means proportionally long hours spent rationalising and seeing everything as an act of friends in case anyone asks; even if it means years of silent stares and glimpse of affection; you think it’s worth if he doesn’t have to worry that his enemies will go after you.

After all, don’t you love him?

author's note: another repost from an old blog! i didn't read through it at all. um. i remember this so i guess it wasn't too bad! i can afford not to look it over... right...

[serdtse]

//

[dotieeee]

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 3

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

This is a multi-chapter fic — updates will be erratic, but I’ve outlined almost everything in this fic, so you have my word I’ll complete this

*******************************************************************************************

Link to the Masterlist  

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

graphic descriptions of violence

implied death

some non-con touching

You have been warned!! Proceed with caution!!!

*******************************************************************************************

Chapter 3: True Intentions

Link to the previous chapter

Every part of you stills at Nuros’ revelation. It doesn’t even register to you that Nuros wraps her arms around you, bawling her eyes out in her need for comfort; you automatically hug her back, staring absently at the sand and unable to process what happened.

The moment you do, however, she lets go of you abruptly like she was stung by your touch. It’s obvious that she’s still uncomfortable around you, so you don’t push her any further. Still, you had to know: “Nuros, why was she banished?”

You see a momentary shadowy look in her expression when she looks at you, but you think you must’ve imagined it, for she looks away and focuses on the still waters before you.

“I don’t know. You were looking for her, were you not?”

“I was.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have.”

With one final sniffle, she wipes her face with her sleeves and gets to her feet. You immediately follow suit, mumbling, “Nuros, I’m so sorry about Candor.” You mean it, and you hope she sees that, too.

“I have to go,” is her only response to you before walking away and diving into the sea of dreams, leaving you alone again, only this time, there’s no Candor looking back at you, mouthing an apology. You release a sob you didn’t know you were holding back, and for the first time in your existence, you recognize ‘grief’ wash over you as you mourn over the loss of the first meaningful connection you sought by yourself. Did you unknowingly cause all of this? Did Candor get unmade just because you were so keen on getting answers?

Judging by the dreams you have left the humans with today, you couldn’t get your mind off Candor’s fate. Mentally, you note the names of the dreamers down, promising to get back to them to give them a better experience and possibly amend any mistakes you may have made. You wonder if it was better for you to take the day off, instead of wandering about the dreams of humans in such a fragile mental state. The Fates forbid nightmares feed off the traces of sorrow you left behind in the dreams and turn them against the dreamer. You’ve seen it happen a handful of times and the worst one by far was an incident you couldn’t let go of for weeks on end.

It was in the dreams of a mother struggling to connect with her child – Anna Harold, a factory worker. Despite feeling worried that day about something you could no longer remember, you made a dream that nudged her into taking a day off work and walking with her son to the park. You left her dream confident that this was a small, but adequate step forward to rekindling their connection. On your next visit, however, a horrific sight greeted you – the park that you left bustling with laughter from children and loving looks from their onlooking parents was dead silent, except for that anguished wailing piercing the dream. It was that of Anna’s, screaming her son’s name repeatedly into the wind in a frenzied search, her little boy nowhere to be found. Later in the library, you find in her book of dreams that a nightmare named Imnioch had taken traces of your depleted mental state and combined it with Anna’s constant worrying about her child. It created a nightmare so vivid and realistic that Anna had developed a fear of parks and being alone with her own little kid, therefore distancing herself further from him at the age he needed her the most.

It was a tiny error that you obsessively spent most of your free time attempting to undo, even as you watched the poor mother’s mental health deteriorate. It took the Lord Morpheus himself to coax you out of your rut. “Whether it be a dream or a nightmare, all play a part in shaping the lives of mortals in the Waking World. We are mirrors to their waking lives and the reflections they find staring back at them is but theirs to interpret – they can either choose to face that or run away from it.” He reminded you gently, and you took that lesson by heart.

Deciding it’s more for the dreamers’ sake than yours, you make your way back to the Realm to call it a day. The sun is still bright in the Dreaming, so you traverse through the bustling town center, taking in the sight of the Dreaming residents going about their happy, quaint lives. You take a deep breath of fresh air, noting the smell of flowers from the florist’s shop and the fresh pastries from the corner bakery. You’re sorely tempted to pop by and get a couple of croissants, knowing they’re a thousand times better than what you’ve had in any of the human’s dreams. You stroll to the bakery with nothing but thoughts of the buttery, flaky pastry. You walk by an empty alley and for a split-second, out of the corner of your eye, you see a tall, shadowy figure emerge out of nowhere. Your hairs stand on its end, senses on high alert. You turn to face the alley, but see nothing but the end of it, just empty wooden crates stacked on top of each other haphazardly.

Behind you.

Craving now pushed aside, you whip your head swiftly to the direction the Voice whispered, and true enough, there he was, partially hidden behind a shop corner a few blocks away: Dream of the Endless.

His starry-blue eyes hold your gaze, then disappears into the alley beside the shop in the blink of an eye. You race toward the direction where he vanished, hoping to prove you weren’t just hallucinating and losing your marbles. Whether or not you were being tailed mattered less now – you had to speak with him and learn the truth about what happened to Candor directly from him. You reach the exact spot where he was just moments ago, but there was no one in there, too. You take long strides, looking up and down the street, but all you see is a shop owner clad in a dirty apron emerging from his shop’s backdoor and a couple of cats feasting on a freshly caught rat. Still high on adrenaline, you turn to face the other direction with the intent of running back to the center of the plaza to scan the area for signs of him.

Instead, you collide with something solid, and you find your wrists grappled firmly, holding you still.

Looking up, you find the Dream Lord himself peering at you through his long eyelashes, face mere inches away from yours.

“Looking for me, my dream?” he drawls, his warm breath fanning your face.

“My Lord…” You manage to let out. “I…was w-wondering whether we could t-talk.”

With half-lidded eyes pinning you to place, he counters, “We’re talking now. Unless you prefer somewhere more…private?”

The way he slowly whispers the last word and leans impossibly closer brings heat to your cheeks you've never felt before. Your breathing quickens even more, your heart beating so loudly you swear he could feel it with his proximity. Without waiting for a response, his sand closes in on both of you, and in an instant, you find yourself transported to your favorite garden on the palace grounds. He finally lets go of you and takes a few steps back, but his mildly gleeful expression at your reaction to him does not escape you.

“What did you want to talk about, my Mera?”

Why do I always happen to see you? You’re sorely tempted to ask this, but your words falter, and instead, you question him, “What happened to Candor?”

“I take it you’ve met with her sister?”

You only nod in response, lowering your head to avoid that intense stare of his.

“Candor had escaped to the Waking World and abandoned her duties to the Dreaming.”

Gaping at him, you whisper, “No, that can’t be…”

Gazing far into the expansive view of the Realm that the garden overlooks, he continues, “I’m afraid it is true, my little dream. She has disobeyed me. She would have continued to do so, had I not acted. There are dreams who stray from their purpose, my Mera. I give all my creations the gift of free will so that they may think for themselves and choose the right thing to do. However, they can be corrupted with the same wiles humans so easily fall into.”

To say you were stunned is an understatement. If Candor truly had intentions of leaving the Dreaming and escaping to the Waking World, she had not shown any signs of it during your brief meeting with her a few days ago. It seems she has hidden it so well. You hadn’t known the dream you called your friend, after all.

“There are others like her. Not just dreams. Nightmares. Wandering the Waking World, terrorizing the dreamers.” He says darkly.

His attention on you once more, he slowly closes the gap between you. You stare pointedly at the blooms on the flower bed behind him, wanting to avoid his glower.

“When I walked into your conversation with Candor, I thought she had corrupted you,” he says, his voice heavily laced with venom. “I thought she had influenced you to turn away from my Realm. From me.”

With his thumb and forefinger, he lifts your chin, making you look into his eyes that seem to penetrate your entire being. His voice, however, becomes softer, barely above a whisper. “I should have known better. You have remained devoted to me and your duties to my dreamers. You have kept the promise you made me the day I created you. I have faith your dedication to me will not waiver. You are, after all, my perfect little dream.���

You stay rooted to the spot, unable to respond. Your Lord’s praise would’ve sent you floating in the clouds in your earlier days. But right now, they only leave you with a sinking feeling in your stomach, amplified by that Voice persistently muttering runrunrun.

Dream of the Endless lets go of his hold on your chin and says, “You should go.”

With a hard look on his face and a clenched jaw, his eyes follow you as you bolt into the palace until you were out of sight. He had come so close to taking you into his arms and finally claiming your lips with his, but once more he needed to repress that impulse when he detected a trace of fear in your features. It was almost imperceptible, but he was your creator – it’s only natural that he recognizes even these subtlest of changes. He loathed seeing that emotion in your eyes, so he will have to make a move and rectify that. Perhaps he had indeed been brash in sentencing that insubordinate dream that dared reveal his intentions to you without his permission, but in the end, he remains firm in his decision to unmake her, for he would’ve surely lost you had she revealed everything to you. The lie he had told you was only necessary to quell your already-growing suspicion.

Then, there’s her less outspoken older sister, a dream named Nuros. She could interfere with, or even ruin his plans, unless he makes a move that would transform her into an important pawn in the game he is hard set on winning. His choice already made, he draws sand from his pouch and sets to work.

***

You step into the palace kitchen, greeting Taramis, the Palace head waiter, on your way in. At this time of day, the kitchen isn’t so busy – save for a few of the kitchen staff cutting vegetables in preparation for ‘brunch,’ an entirely recent trend inspired by the humans in Britain who liked taking their first meal on Sunday between the hours of ten in the morning and one in the afternoon. Staying out of their way as much as you can, you make yourself a large cup of tea and head to the staff dining area just beside the kitchen.

There, alone with your thoughts, you contemplate freely on the conversation you shared with your master yesterday. You were infinitely relieved that you had no hand in Candor’s punishment, but after the Dream Lord had dismissed you, you had run away feeling bewildered at his rather…puzzling actions towards you.

“Haven’t you ever noticed how he acts so differently around you?”

Candor’s words in the dream played in your head hauntingly. Fortunately, the scullery maid collecting the dirty dishes drops a piece of silverware, and the resounding clang echoes in the otherwise empty dining hall, shaking you out of your intrusive thoughts.

You finish your tea, resolving to mentally block these musings out – the Dream Lord had much on this mind, you know this to be true. The least you can do was help him by helping his dreamers, and you know very well that overthinking isn’t going to do anything. Depositing your empty cup in the used dishes section, you mosey your way out of the hall into the kitchen, grabbing an apple from one of the baskets on your way out. You’re approaching the way to the library, debating whether or not you want to take a detour, but in the end, you opt against it – you worked only half the day yesterday, so you had to make up for your missed hours today.

“Mera!”

Turning to the voice and the sound of hurried footsteps, you see Lucienne making a beeline toward you.

“Lucienne, hi!” You greet her with a wave.

“Good morning,” she greets back, handing you a small note folded in half. “This came from Nuros.”

Curiously, you take the note and read it quietly.

“Mera,

Meet me in the dream of Stanley Fitzgerald.

Nuros”

Feeling Lucienne’s piercing stare, you look up at her mildly worried expression. “Are you both alright?” She asks.

You hesitate for a second but flash her a reassuring smile anyway. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Thank you, Lucienne.”

With an eyebrow raised, she offers you a questioning look. You mentally pray to the Fates that she doesn’t press you any further.

Finally, she lets out a sigh and says, “Well, then, take care at work. Oh, and do drop by later if you feel like it. Wilbur Maxwell seems to have started a new draft. By any chance, do you know why he’s switched genres? He seems to be leaning into psychological horror as of late.”

You give her a nervous chuckle. “Sure, I’ll be there. I’ll explain later.”

With a final grin, Lucienne saunters off the hall and back to the library.

Releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, you bite nervously into the apple before running off to work.

***

Finding Stanley Fitzgerald’s dream was easy – fighting the urge to flee from it was not.

For one, the dream was nothing but empty white space – it wasn’t even a room, it was just miles and miles of endless white. Second: a few feet from where you landed, was a small black spot of what looked like a shiny liquid you couldn’t classify. Third: coming from the black spot were waves upon waves of pure murderous intent – the evil that emanated from it was so palpable you were internally fighting the need to violently hurl what little contents your stomach had.

Still, Nuros had a reason for bringing you here, and waiting for her to show up would give you the answer.

You sit, cross-legged, eyeing the black spot warily. It seems to have small curls of smoke coming through, and it looked like it had grown by a tiny bit, but you deduce that it probably was the effect of the empty white space that surrounded you, making anything else inside stand out.

A few moments pass, and you feel Nuros’s presence pierce the dream. With a soft thud, you hear her land behind you. You leap to your feet and face her.

“You’re here,” she deadpans.

With equal fervor, you respond, “No, I’m just a figment of your imagination.”

Slowly, she lets out a mirthless laugh, almost hysterical, which sends a shiver down your spine.

“You think you’re so damn clever.” She bites back, animosity marring her features.

Guessing where this was going, you retort, “Look, if you asked me to come here because you’re looking for a fight, I’m not taking the bait.”

You turn your back on her, grateful for an excuse to leave the unnerving dream. You’re about to will yourself back to the waters and finally start working, but behind you, you hear her mutter under her breath.

“This is for Candor.”

The next thing you know, you’re landing face down on the black puddle, your palms sliding on the slimy sludge to mitigate your fall.

“What the fuck, Nuros –”

“You deserve everything that’s coming to you.” Her voice was cold, indifferent.

Cursing loudly, you try to get up, but the black liquid, now freely releasing black smoke, holds you down in a vice-like grip. The puddle is expanding right before your eyes, and you’re engulfed in the noxious gasses it’s emitting. You attempt to wriggle out of it with all your strength, but to your horror, the liquid creeps up further to your arms and your legs, lending you immobile.

Coughing violently from the fumes of sulfur invading your senses, you choke out, “Nuros, help me…”

You crane your neck as far as you can to look at her – only to find her wide-eyed and terrified at the scene unfolding before her.

By now, the black puddle had spread across the floor immensely and the black smoke starts converging to its center, forming a solid mass.

Right before you materializes a creature you’ve only seen in an obscure book in the royal library – with the body of an angel and the head of an owl: a demon.

Andras.

It holds its palm out to the smoke, and out from it emerges a sharp, gleaming silver sword.

“HOW FOOLISH OF YOU TO COME HERE, CREATURE OF THE DREAMING.” Its voice, the voice of thousands of agonized souls, echoes throughout the white space.

It takes slow, deliberate steps toward your writhing form. “YOU SEE, I HAVE TAKEN OVER THIS SOUL. I LIVE IN IT NOW. I LIKE IT HERE.”

It crouches down and fists your hair violently to see your face better, earning a hiss from you.

“I’M GOING TO ENJOY RIPPING YOU APART, LIMB BY DAINTY LIMB.”

“Go to hell, demon,” is all you manage, glaring at it with all the hate you could muster. Every portion of your insides crawl with the energy oozing from the demon – it is one of bloodthirst, unquenchable and undying, making you want to drag your nails all over your skin to get it off you.

Struggling to look up at it, you watch as it focuses momentarily on your unwilling companion. “BOO.”

You couldn’t see Nuros’ reaction, but you hear her scream and feel her presence leave the dream in haste, leaving you at the mercy of Andras.

The beak of the demon opens wide as it emits an otherworldly howling unlike anything you’ve ever heard, the sound almost breaking your eardrums. It’s only after a few moments that you realize the demon wasn’t screaming – it was laughing: insane, horrid, malicious.

With an evil glint shining in its beady eyes, it lets go of your hair, grabbing your arm forcefully.

“DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I’VE MANAGED TO STAY IN THIS PATHETIC HUMAN’S BODY? THREE YEARS.”

“THAT IS ONE…” And with his sword he cuts a single line on your skin, drawing blood – “TWO…” – he carves another one, deeper this time – “THREE.” The last gash he inflicts on your skin scrapes bone, causing you to let out a scream reverberating throughout the entire hellish place.

You stare at the blood flowing out of your wounds disappearing into the black sludge, seemingly being absorbed. The demon’s liquid covers the cuts – you could feel it suckling, hungry for more.

“I HAVE NOT HAD DREAMING BLOOD IN FEW MILLENIA, I FORGOT JUST HOW DELECTABLE IT IS. I WILL ENJOY EVERY DROP OF IT.”

Helpless and getting weaker by the second, you can only ogle at it as it switches to your other side and holds out your other arm.

“FIVE MILLENIA, TO BE EXACT. ONE, TWO –”

“ANDRAS!”

You look wildly for the source of the booming voice that called the demon out. Your vision now getting blurry, you hone in on the tall form of the King of Dreams, his cloak billowing behind him. He meets your fluttering vision with his – pure onyx in rabid rage – it’s the last thing you see before giving into sweet oblivion.

***

Wake up, now.

With a start, you get up, frantically digging your nails into your skin to get that repulsive, evil thing off –

But someone firmly wraps you in their warm embrace, stilling your form.

“Sshh, my little dream. You are safe, you are with me.”

Lord Morpheus coos into your ears, one hand holding the back of your head close to his chest, the other rubbing your back to soothe your trembling torso. Despite your initial fear and confusion, you melt in his hold, the timbre of his voice finally calming you down. After what seems like an eternity in his embrace, he finally releases you.

Your eyes dart around quickly, and you recognize the room you’re in – it was the same room you woke up in after losing consciousness right in front of the Dream Lord.

As if sensing your thoughts, he says, “I brought you where you’ll be safest – in my chambers.”

Your back visibly straightens at his words, your heart suddenly beating faster for no reason. His hands cup both your cheeks, but you avert your eyes – thankfully he seems to think you’re still in shock, for he tries to assure you: “My Mera, look at me. No one will harm you here.”

You give him a furtive nod as you stare into those striking, blue eyes – they’re so tender now, so why on earth am I so fucking nervous? You wonder to yourself.

His gaze hardens, eyes almost turning icy silver, he says, “You must tell me who sent you to that dream.”

Vehemently, you shake your head (at least, as much as you could) in his grip.

“My dream, they shall seek to hurt you again if they are not stopped.”

Tears start streaming down your cheeks, which he wipes away with his thumb. “Please, she was only hurt…”

The Dream Lord’s expression turns vengeful as the name finally dawns on him. He lets go of you and gets to his feet. “I shall see to it that she is punished for her actions. I do not easily forgive those who dare touch what is mine.”

Wanting to put an end to all this, you quickly grab the Dream Lord’s hand as he turns away to leave. Pleadingly, you find his steely gaze and say, “She has suffered enough, my Lord. Please…”

You see him take a moment to make his decision, but his gaze softens. With his one hand clasping yours, he lifts your chin with the other. “I shall only have a word with her, then. But make me a promise.”

To his side, his sand spins and compresses before vanishing, revealing in it a gold chain with a small, shiny ruby in the middle. He takes the jewelry and places it on your head like a crown.

“Keep this headpiece on you at all times. It is, I’m afraid, purely decorative, but it will serve its purpose of letting every being in the Dreaming know to never mess with you again.”

Nodding just to appease him and take his mind off retribution, you manage to say, “Thank you, Lord Morpheus, for everything.”

He seemingly relaxes at your words and gives you a warm smile. “I’m putting you off work until I’m certain the threat has been handled.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he stops you with a finger to your lips. “No arguments, my dream. Rest well.”

Slowly, his sand wraps around you, lulling you back into unconsciousness.

***

After a week of being out of commission, you come to a surprising conclusion: being placed on forced leave sucks.

You were bored all the time, restless – it doesn’t help that when you’re alone with your thoughts, you are plagued by memories of that owlish demon and its black slime – you can still hear its mad cackling, feel the cold blade of his sword on your skin and the liquid sucking your blood – you’re only glad that the scars have completely disappeared without a single trace. So, every chance you got you helped Lucienne out in the library, sorting the piles upon piles of new books that find their way into the Realm. When there weren’t books left to sort, you buried yourself in reading the past dreams you have helped create, noting the tiny mistakes in detail to make your work more accurate and refined. When that was over, you decided to pick books from the library at random to see if the dreamer in the book might benefit from your visit in the future.

That was how you ended up with a heap of hastily scribbled notes on one of your favorite long desks hidden among the seemingly endless rows of shelves in the C wing. At the moment you had an inventor named Harry Mulligan’s book of dreams propped open, comparing his dreams with that of the other inventors you had visited in the past. You notice he hasn’t dreamt about anything new lately – he kept coming back to a memory he has of his patent being rejected, and to a dream of his machinery coming to life before his eyes and chasing him on legs made of screwdrivers. Funny as it sounds, you surmise that he must’ve developed a fear of being critiqued for his inventions and you could perhaps schedule a visit to him as soon as your “exile” is over.

Curious as to what that patent might have been, you saunter to the H section to look for his name. Grabbing his patent from the shelf, you turn on your heel to return to your desk. You stop dead in your tracks and let out an audible gasp as soon as you see the Dream Lord standing before you at his full height, blocking your path.

“My Lord! You gave me quite a fright, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“My apologies, little dream, I seem to have startled you.”

He steps forward, closing the distance between you. Unconsciously you start backing away, at least until your back hits the wooden shelf.

He stares at you with an intensity you can’t describe. He finally corners you, your face mere inches from his chest, never breaking eye contact – until his eyes land on the book you’re holding close to your chest. He pries the book from your grip and inspects the covers.

He makes a tutting sound and flashes you an amused grin, his tone teasing you. “You’re still working, even when I ordered you to rest? You’re being naughty.”

Averting your gaze, you shudder inwardly at his proximity, your heart rate spikes, and your breathing turns into shallow gasps. You almost jump when he tosses the book unceremoniously on the desk behind him.

“But don’t think for a moment that I don’t appreciate what you do for the Dreaming, my Mera. Your devotion to my Realm, and in turn, to me – it touches me, it enthralls me.”

With half-lidded eyes, he whispers the final words of his sentence so huskily you can feel the warmth of his breath on your cheeks. You think of stepping to your side to put some distance between you; but, being one step ahead, he uses his palms to lean on the shelf, effectively trapping you.

“You are truly perfect for the role I have planned for you.”

Hastily changing the topic, you stammer, “I n-never got to thank you properly for s-saving me, my Lord.”

Grinning more widely than ever, he dips his head further, his lips almost touching yours.

“You can thank me now.”

You turn your head to the side, but he’s not having it; he takes a hold of your chin and forces your gaze back to him.

“I almost lost you that day, my Mera. I will not have anyone else touch what is mine ever again.”

Then, he crashes his lips on yours.

In the dreams of humans, the first kisses you witnessed were soft, timid, and chaste – the way your master was kissing you is anything but. His kiss is fevered, passionate, wanting to suck every breath out of you. His hand travels to your back to keep you from squirming, the other to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. You feel his tongue demand entrance, but you keep your lips shut in your shock until he starts stroking the side of your waist in circles, eliciting a gasp from you. He takes this opportunity to slip his tongue inside you, tasting your mouth and forcing your tongue to move against his.

It was at that moment you finally grasp the meaning behind the heavy looks he has been giving as of late; it was a look of wanton hunger, repressed for a long time, now wanting to devour. And if his kiss is anything to go by, he will not stop until he's fully sated his thirst, and you're totally consumed in his fire.

The King of Dreams sits on his throne, majestic and imposing; before him, an errant being of his creation, stands awaiting his sacred word. His cold, unwavering eyes match his tone as he addresses his subject.

***

Chapter Bonus:

“My task for you was simple. Yet you still failed miserably.”

Cowering before the monarch, the subject in question pleads, “My Lord, I have d-done exactly what you asked…I brought her to the dream as you said –”

Dream silences her with a look. “My instructions were clear: that no injury shall befall her.”

Now dissolving into piteous sobs, she kneels before her Lord, attempting to evoke forgiveness. “Lord Morpheus, p-please. You promised you’d bring her b-back…”

Feigning consideration, he responds, “Indeed, I gave my word that you and your sister will be reunited after you complete your mission.”

“Thank you, my liege –”

Cutting her off, he continues, “I did not, however, specify my method.”

“No…have mercy…!”

"You may join your sister in the darkness, where you shall be together until I command so."

With a lazy flick of his wrist, the rebellious dream dissolves into mere sand, leaving no trace except a tiny skull that drops on the throne room floor with an echoing clatter.

*******************************************************************************************

Link to the next chapter

Author notes:

Please engage, like, reblog, comment, send predictions, etc, I’d love feedback from everyone!!

I’d like to thank @queenshelby @endlessdreamqueen3 encouraging me to pen this baby

Also, fellow Dark!Morpheus fic writers whose work I’ve thoroughly enjoyed and keep rereading

Thank you!!

Post date: 11/06/22

Edit date: 11/06/22

Taglist: Just lemme know please if you want to be added, too!

Tagging the following:

@wt-fxck

@sandman-33

@reallystressedhoneybee

@akiraquote

@safe-teycar - can’t tag :(

@ponyboys-sunsets

@izzicle

@spygrrl99- can’t tag :(

@intothesoul

@thecrazytealady

@tastyinspection8860

[angelplummie]

FUCK BOY CLASS 1A

CLASS 1A X READER

masterlist

warnings: suggestive, tiny but angsty, mostly rage inducing crack

part 1 part 2

DENKI:

• does the whole trust worthy goofy guy thing :|

•he just a funny silly guy 🤣 you’ll think “omg is it just me that thinks he’s actually really cute ...?”

• No. it’s not just you. it’s every girl on campus alright?

• he fucks anything and everything that comes his way, indefinitely. girl, boy, non binary, he plays them all

• i mean #gayrights but he’s a man whore

• thing is he’s not the worst of the bunch he’s just a huge slut that’s too dumb to realise other people have feelings

•fucks who he wants, when he wants bc he can

•somehow he always has ten thousand poor sods in love with him even though there’s nothing behind those pretty eyes

•if u decide to fuck around with him... best night of your life tbh but it’s not worth the embarrassment of crying over the fact he made out with 3 people at YOUR birthday party even after he cuddled you after he nutted in u :( u thought it meant at least something!

•naw that’s just how he rolls, u were warm and nice so he went for it. meant less than nothing to him

•always smells a little. like not enough that u don’t fuck him, but enough that u notice

•girl don’t cry over him he can’t remember ur name i’m so sorry

KIRISHIMA:

•lord help us all

• typical gym bro pussy pounder, all he can think of is Sport™️ and Nut™️

•He’s the type to have a really rowdy friend group but so he pulls the “woah guys, you’re scaring the lady, are you ok 😅😘🥺”

•And then you’ll go, omg this guy is so sweet and so different and so hot, i should definitely have sex with him, he’s definitely a nice guy

• Aha! you’ve fallen for his trap! you fool!

•he’s like a fake feminist :/

•if his friends say something misogynistic around girls he’ll be like “woah woah woah! that’s uhhhh that’s a little sexist!”

• his friends roll their eyes at his stupid ploy “yeah whatever man” but they don’t expose him, bro code or whateva

•the second you lovely ladies leave he’s like 10x worse

• “naw bro that girl was ugly” “no tits, no ass, what’s the point?” “she would be hot if it wasn’t for her face” “she’s a slut but id still hit, it’d be loose tho”

•every horrible thing you can imagine he has said. I despise him

•if he’s got his sights on u, he’s having you, end of.

• hell do anything to get you to sleep with him if u turn him down the first time, he loves a challenge

• honestly he’s a bit too proud of himself, his strategy is just being really hot in ur vicinity and hoping u crack, all while keeping up his nice guy shtick

•credit to him it works a lot of the time

•if that fails, he’ll join whatever study group ur in and mansplain to you, which surprisingly doesn’t work either

• his last resort is to actually learn stuff about u and have a real conversation, which is so yawn, but works when he brings up the fact that he volunteers at the local orphanage and “those kids are like my little brothers you know?”

•suddenly he’s balls deep in you and he sticks a finger in ur butt? okay

• got to admit, he is a good fuck he’s just the worst person ever. he really sucks.

• honestly he probably won’t even talk degradingly about you to his friends, you weren’t particularly anything, he has sex with a lot of girls, ur not really special

• leaves hella hickeys bc he’s a dickhead

SERO:

• cunt

• blatant and obnoxious flirting

• wears chains religiously

• paints his nails black but he’s so shit at it

• smokes more than he shits, and he shits a lot

• makes tik tok thirst traps, and they’re annoyingly hot

• ur like omg cringe who does that lol but when he waddles his emo caboose up to u u fold immediately

• so annoying, so so so annoying

•like he’s just a little squirmy rat man, a little guy that makes u itch but u let him in ur pants anyway

• he’s so smug after the fact as well, always making sexual comments about u to ur face afterwards

•if u tell him ur uncomfortable he’ll just be like “what? you didn’t seem uncomfortable when i _____”

•he’s shit i want to hit him

• pukes at every party he goes to, fucking nerd

• says he’s a communist but he is most definitely not, he just likes leftist hoes

•got a stupid fucking tattoo of some dumb quote on his leg, something like “live fast die young” u know he gets that shit out every party

•takes way too long on his hair. no one cares that you got a mullet please stop talking about it

reblogs appreciated!! masterlist

[jungkxook]

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad. 

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?” 

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly. 

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you. 

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work. 

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[sukirichi]

not shy

megumi was not shy around his crush — and that’s a fucking lie.

request: shy megumi who is really flustered around his crush + his friends and gojo-sensei helping him confess

note: this is fluff and a semi crack fic too LOL i hope you guys enjoy this, i had a lot of fun with this one! unedited too, as usual!

word count: 4.5k

masterlist !

playlist made by the lovely @savantsoulfinder​ thank you so much! 

“Yo, Megumi-kun, can you take—” Satoru halted in his steps, following the trail of sight that his dark-haired student seemed to be so enamoured in to not even notice his teacher walk his way. “What are you staring at?” when his gaze landed on you, head thrown back in laughter and slapping Panda’s arm over Yuuji’s joke, Satoru’s eyes beamed even under the blindfold. “Oh? You like Y/N?”

Upon hearing your name, Megumi immediately snapped back to life. He scoffed and turned away from you, scowling to himself with his arms crossed against his chest. “No, I don’t. I don’t like anyone.” So defensive.

“Is that so?” Satoru teased while biting back his laughter, “Guess you won’t mind if I call her then. Hey, Y/N!”

“Gojo-sensei, what’re you doing?!” Megumi grabbed his teacher’s sleeve, whisper-hissing and cursing under his breath when Satoru caught your attention. You waved at them both, skipping until you were getting impossibly closer and closer and closer.

“Well, I don’t want you to carry these all alone. You’re gonna need some help.”

“I’m perfectly fine – h-hi.”

Shit, you were now here. You smiled up at him, hands folded below your bottom before tipping your head to the side, looking under Megumi’s ducked head to see his face. “Hey there, Megumi! Looking cute today,” you winked, causing the poor boy to blush madly. You never noticed, though, your attention now taken by your teacher turning red as he stopped his laughter. “Gojo-sensei! You called me?”

“Oh yeah, you’re just right on time. I was going to ask Megumi here to bring these books all back to my office but it’s probably too heavy for him so I asked—”

“It’s not heavy,” Megumi took the books that Satoru placed in your welcoming arms, the slightest touch sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He pulled away and clutched the books closer to himself at the sudden buzz, narrowing his eyes at his teacher who obviously couldn’t mind his own business. “I can carry it by myself.”

“I still wanna help, and I really don’t mind. Plus, I haven’t talked to you in a long time. I actually kind of feel like you’re avoiding me,” you pouted, and that simple gesture had Megumi feeling like he was sinking deeper into the ground.

He was ready for the whole world to swallow him up.

Satoru took pleasure in Megumi’s reddish ears and clenched jaw, cupping his own jaw with his hands as if to mock. “Aw, Megumi, why would you avoid precious Y/N? Did she do something wrong to you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Well, if there’s nothing wrong, you two better scoot before you get late to your other class!”

“Alright, see you around, Gojo-sensei!” Shit, why were you such a good girl? Now he was stuck with you, and Megumi huffed while hesitantly sharing the books with him. You walked close enough to him that he caught a slight whiff of your shampoo, the scent clouding over his usually sharp mind. Now, though, Megumi could barely recognize the hallways he walked on, relying only on you to lead the way. “So...how’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How about your studies? We have an exam next week – maybe you want to study together? Inumaki-senpai and I were supposed to have a study group with the others but everyone just wants to study by themselves,” you turned to him with a small smile, “I do better when I’m with someone though.”

Megumi managed to give you a split second glance before he darted his eyes back in front of him again, swallowing audibly because he couldn’t understand why you had to look so pretty smiling like that.

His palms grew sweaty with each passing second, and he grimaced at the uncomfortably feeling of his collar getting sticky. “Uh, wh-where would we study? We don’t have a library or anything.”

“The training grounds is refreshing, but I’d like it to do it better in my room.”

“Do what?” Megumi halted in his steps, his eyes blown wide at your words.

“Study, of course. What else?”

He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be worried that you frowned in confusion, almost as if you didn’t understand the weight of your words. But then again, you’d always been so damn oblivious that it made sense. Megumi shook his head, continuing on to the teacher’s office before remembering he still lost his sense of direction, so he bit his lip, obediently following you around like a puppy.

“You shouldn’t just invite anyone to your room, you know.”

Once you both made it to the empty room, you carefully placed the books down on Satoru’s desk. He raised a brow at the extra detail you put into, tongue peeking out from the edges of your lips as you made sure all of them were placed together neatly.

Satisfied with your work, you clapped your hands and turned to him.

“I’m not. You’re not just anyone to me, Megumi,” Suddenly, you leaned over him, his mind screaming at him when your lips lowered down to his neck. Megumi’s spine stiffened so quick he might as well be a flat board, his chin pressed to his neck when he felt your teeth graze his exposed skin for a moment. “There’s a loose thread,” you showed him a small thread with a small smile, which fell as fast when you saw Megumi standing uncomfortably straight. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to invade your personal space like that!” “I’m a little weird, aren’t I? That would explain why you’ve been avoiding me. Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not that...it’s just...”

“Just what?”

His mind blanked. Ask him anything about curses or their history and pretty much anything – he’d be able to answer – but not this. They didn’t teach this in the books and out of frantic nervousness, Megumi ended up spewing the first thing he could think of, his brows drawn together that only added to his intimidating look.

“I’m just annoyed that you scored higher than me on the previous exam.”

“Oh,” you fell for it, snapping your fingers together as you laughed. Somehow, the sound of your melodious laughter had his shoulders easing from the tension, the smallest of smiles hinting at the edge of his lips. Gosh, he was so whipped for you. “Was that really it? I thought you were avoiding me for something serious! Well, how about this, let’s study together and let’s see who’s the smarter one. The loser will get tickled to death!”

“I haven’t even agreed to that condition yet.”

“Okay, what do you want if you win?”

Megumi blushed as he blurted out, “You.”

Before he could regret what he just said, you scrunched your nose and pointed to yourself. “Me what? You want me to do something? You want me to buy you ice cream or—”

“Never mind,” he mumbled behind his palm that was now covering his mouth, refusing to show you that he actually wanted to laugh at how naive you could be. Not that he was complaining; it saved him great pain that you could never know his feelings for you. “I’ll ask for it when I’m sure I’ll win.”

“Ah, not a man of uncalculated risks, I see,” you ruffled his hair, the poor boy stiffening up again under your touch. “This is why I like you so much. You’re so thoughtful.”

“Please don’t touch my hair.”

Megumi was complaining, his shoulders raised beside his ears while he scowled at you, but the way a small, almost inaudible purr left his lips said otherwise. He didn’t want you touching his hair – only because he was shy and it would be the death of him if you saw how easily flustered he was around you.

Thankfully, you showered mercy upon him, raising your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, we should go back to class now.”

Megumi sighed in relief, content for now to walk you all the way back to class as you talked about your day. He wasn’t actually listening, but a stupid smile was there on his face, anyway. He likened the sound of your voice to those of birds chirping and sunshine waking – and he felt like he was the fresh earth you always kissed.

“You’re going to burn a hole in her if you keep staring at her like that.”

“Shut up,” Megumi averted his eyes away from you, stabbing his yogurt with his plastic fork. A part of him felt annoyed that you just had to look so pretty today, your bright voice filling in the cafeteria that put his constant sour mood to shame. The stark difference between you two made Megumi sigh in his seat, abandoning his fork as he leaned back. There was no way you’d like him back. “I wasn’t looking at anyone.”

“Ugh, why are boys so creepy? Staring at Y/N like that, ew.”

Yuuji ignored Nobara’s comment, and for once, Megumi let it slide when Nobara stealed his untouched yogurt. “Why don’t you just tell her you like her? She’s literally the sweetest person ever – the chances of her turning you down are low!”

Nobara snorted, “Yeah, but if the sweetest girl in school rejects you, that’s really humiliating. That would mean she likes everyone but you.”

Satoru popped out of nowhere – that stupid blindfolded bastard who started all this – his arms looped around Yuuji’s neck whose entire face illuminated at having his favourite teacher around. “I think the scary-looking Megumi-chan is actually just too shy to be confess,” he wiggled his eyebrows, pointing a finger fun to Megumi’s deadly narrowed gaze. “Can you believe it? My dark, brooding student is hopelessly in love with the cute, sunshine girl next door that he’s so scared around her? Isn’t that so adorable—”

“Everyone shut up!” he hissed through gritted teeth, “I’m not scared of anyone or anything.”

“Then tell her you like her.”

“Fine, I will.”

“I bet you ten dollars he won’t do it,” Satoru whispered, the two students who shared one brain cell beside him nodding eagerly.

“I said I will!”

“Good morning, Megumi! Come in, come in,” you ushered him in once he stood frozen at your door, his hands now awkwardly clutching his own notes. “You can take a seat on the bed.”

Megumi wasn’t nervous of the fact this was his first time visiting a girl’s room, but rather because it was yours, and each part of your room resembled you greatly. From the organized and clean space, but the noticeable adorable little trinkets and polaroids of you with everyone sticking on the wall, he could feel your entire soul living in that room. When his eyes landed on an old photo of you holding up the peace sign and noticed for the first time he was standing in the background, unaware he was captured in the frame, Megumi inhaled sharply.

Had you pretended to take a selfie just to see him there?

No, he shook his head, there was just no way. He really couldn’t ponder about it long enough because you’d dragged him by the sleeve until he was sitting right next to you, the fresh scent of your body wash making him feel stunningly warm inside his clothes even when the windows were open.

The whole time, Megumi couldn’t absorb a single thing you were saying.

He was just too distracted by everything about you – the way your lips moved when you spoke, how you’d tuck back a stray hair behind your ear, even to the way your mouth would form an ‘o’ shape as you learned something new. No, he couldn’t focus at all.

Megumi has lost count of the times he’d wiped his shaky, sweaty palms on the pads of his sweatpants, hitching his breath every time you leaned close to him to glance at his notes.

At this rate, he’d be the loser in your little competition. It was just impossible for him to focus on anything else.

“Megumi?” you waved your hands in front of him. When it wasn’t enough to get his attention, you resorted to flicking his forehead and he yelped, rubbing at the sore spot. He faced you, a complaint ready to be spoken when his eyes widened at the sudden lack of proximity, your nose booping against his. “Hello, Megumi? I’ve asked you the same question twice now and you haven’t answered yet.”

As nicely as he could, he pushed your face away, his heart thumping loudly when you laughed as you went back to your own space. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I wasn’t really listening.”

“Yeah, I can tell, you were just staring at me the whole time,” you held your phone up in front of your face, checking your reflection on the screen on different angles. He watched, enchanted by how gorgeous you looked no matter what side. “Is there something on my face...? I’ve been checking non-stop and I don’t see anything weird.”

Megumi swallowed nervously, “There’s nothing wrong with your face. I just can’t focus. You’re too close and I-I can smell you.”

“Do I smell bad?!”

“No, you don’t! You smell really sweet!”

“Aw, thanks! You smell sexy too,” you winked at him, wiggling your shoulders as if to share your scent with him. Megumi’s eyes widened when your shoulder rubbed against his, and he recoiled, arm placed over his nose to hide his emotions that were a train wreck right now.

“Sexy?” he spluttered, “Why would you say – me – sexy? You’re so weird, Y/N. You shouldn’t say stuff like that.”

You patted his thigh in a manner that should be comforting, but the teasing smile on your face only had him wanting to jump out the window even more. Then, you stood up and stretched the material of your shirt riding up until he caught sight of your navel. Megumi turned away and closed his eyes, cheeks trapped between his teeth. “We should take a break. Treat’s on me – where do you want to go?”

“Err,” he scratched the back of his head.

“Oh, don’t look too worried, it’s a weekend. Plus, Gojo-Sensei isn’t around to bother us or something.”

“You...you want to go out...” he drawled out slowly, tentatively, surely – just to make sure that he was hearing it right. “...with me?”

“Yeah, I did just ask where you want to go.”

“Oh,” Megumi nodded with a blank face. Then, your words sank in, and he folded his knees to his chest to hide his face and his sickly sweet smile, the butterflies in his stomach progressing into a fucking zoo. “Oh.”

“Are you sick? You’re so red,” your palm connected with his heated forehead, “Megumi, you’re burning! Should I take you to Ieri-san?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he pushed your hand away, still repudiating to look you in the eye. He just couldn’t, not when you were too inquisitive and he could easily give a dead clue before he got the chance to properly confess. “I mean, I don’t really have a certain place in mind. I’ll go wherever you want to go.”

He should’ve noticed it then – the mischievous glint in your eye that told him you weren’t up to no good. But because his knees always weakened around you, Megumi agreed way too eagerly than he’d like. “Just make sure you don’t regret it, okay? There’s something I’ve always been wanting to try but I never got the chance to and no one wanted to go with me, so you’ll be my willing victim!” And so, half an hour later, Megumi’s jaw dropped as the chill of the arena nipped at his skin. You didn’t even tell him to bring a jacket. “Ta-da!”

“Ice skating?”

You nodded happily, dragging him all the way to the shoe fittings. “It’s going to be fun, come on!”

“But I don’t know how to.”

“Neither do I!” Megumi wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t know how to. No matter how much he tried so hard to learn, he just couldn’t balance himself. The sound of your laughter that let him know you enjoyed this way too much reached his ears as he glared at the ice, his ears red either from the cold or the humiliation of being an utter failure in front of you, of all people! “Need some help there, buddy?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. And no, I can do this by myself.”

You masked your chuckle with a snicker, squatting to watch as he struggled to heave himself up back to his feet. “Really? You’ve fallen like, a hundred times now.”

“Shut up. Humans aren’t naturally supposed to do this anyway. We don’t have a human instinct to be upright – whoa!” Megumi slipped again from the ice, this time knocking you down with him. Instead of it being romantic where you two ended up gazing at each other with love in your eyes, your eyes widened into saucers as his elbow landed into your belly, crushing the wind out of your body.

“Ow!”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to – ugh, this is why I said it was a bad idea!”

All the way back home, Megumi was still entirely convinced it was a bad idea. You were limping beside him, having to use his bicep as a crutch with your head resting on his shoulder. You and your stupid ideas, really, now you were injured and sprained your ankle from the fall. Instead of worrying about your own safety, you only slapped your knee in laughter as the medics fixed you up, still in disbelief that Megumi had fallen a lot of times yet came out unscathed.

“Megumi~ are you still mad at me? Why won’t you talk to me?” you pouted, squeezing his bicep to get his attention.

“It’s because I told you it was dangerous. Look at you – your knees are all scraped and your legs are all wobbly. We’ve still got a long way back home.”

“Maybe you should carry me then.”

“C-carry you?”

“Yeah, so I don’t fall,” you snorted, pointing to your shoeless ankle covered in bandages. “I mean, it was your fault I’m injured. If you hadn’t fallen for me, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

Fallen for you? Did you know that he – ? Megumi’s head snapped to yours so hard he nearly had whiplash, but the only thing he could focus on was the pounding of drums within his chest. “F-fall? How did you know?”

“Megumi, you literally fell on top of me. Don’t think I’ve forgotten already.”

That had him blinking back, his face flattening into a blank expression. Then, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stopped in his tracks. “Sometimes I forget you’re terribly naive.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Now get on,” With burning cheeks and a heart that fluttered way too much than what was considered healthy, Megumi squatted down to the ground, patting his back with a groan. You less than jumped into his arms, a little too excited to get a piggyback ride and Megumi expressed his faux distress with a groan. You only pinched his ear and told him to pay you back for your injuries, which made him complain again.

In the end, he was just happy you couldn’t see how much he struggled to hide his smile then, for if you saw it, you’d surely believe he was crazy.

Or so he thought. By the time you’d gotten back to the dorms, you were long passed out on his back. There was a small patch of drool on the back of his shirt and he shuddered, then wiped it away by whispering to himself, it’s okay – as long as it’s you.

Padding back to the dorms wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be, considering everyone was almost asleep or out to the city as well.

Megumi gently laid you down on the bed, wrapping the blanket around you and making sure your head was comfortable on the pillow. He stayed there for a solid minute, just staring and memorizing your pretty features until he felt confident he could draw it upon memory. Not wanting to be creepy though, he cleared his throat, about to leave the room when your fingers tugged at his wrist.

“Megumi,” you moaned sleepily, “Don’t go. It’s too cold.”

“I’ll get you another blanket.”

“No, stay,” you whined, patting the space next to you. “Please?”

“To sleep here with you?” he asked, baffled and at the same time elated. The last thing he wanted to be was a pervert and he’d never outright admit that his thoughts of you hadn’t always been giggles and rainbows, but he pushed those down, reminding himself that this is you – he respected you above all else. His self restraint slowly thinned though, whatnot with you pouting up at him like that.

Megumi groaned and took off his shoes anyway, planting himself beside you. “This is insane. I think I’m losing my mind,” he muttered to himself. “Move over and make space for me,” you obediently followed his command, using his bicep as a pillow while your cheek squished against his chest. He wondered how you weren’t bothered by his heart’s beating, or maybe it soothed you to sleep because you were falling deeper and deeper asleep, burying yourself in his arms. “God, this is so uncomfortable. I feel like I’m crushing you—”

“So warm,” you cut him off, his mind turning completely mental as he felt your lips pad over his chin. “Goodnight, Megumi.”

How did you expect him to sleep now?

But as soon as you’d settled and only your stabled breathing could be heard from the room, Megumi’s eyes began to droop as well, and it didn’t take long before his arms relaxed around you, lazily pulling the covers up to cover the both of you.

He’ll tell you another time.

“MEGUMI!” you pushed through everyone and showed him your paper, the bold red mark of 100 glaring back at him. Before he could respond, you stole his test paper from him, laughing at the sad 98 that showed. “Ah, I won!” In the blink of an eye, you’d tackled him to the ground, your knees keeping his legs locked underneath you, test papers flying around the field. Your hands were relentless and brutal as it ran and poked up his sides, eliciting squeaky little gasps from him.

“Stop, stop!” Megumi doubled over in laughter, keeping his feet flat on the ground to prevent himself from accidentally kneeing you. He’d hurt you enough during the ice skating dilemma – he didn’t want to cause you anymore injuries. “No, stop!”

“I won, Megumi, I won! Face the tickle monster!”

“I said stop or else!” he warned, completely aware that he wasn’t as threatening or serious as he wanted to be when tears leaked from his eyes, his laughter embarrassingly giggly and high pitched.

“Or what, loser?”

“I’ll kiss you until you shut up!”

“That’s adorable, but let’s see you try!” you kept tickling his sides, the both of you completely oblivious that the rest of your classmates – your teacher who was more than supportive of this pairing included – were hiding behind a bush, their phones whipped out to capture each second of this moment. “Loser!”

As you mocked him one more time that you wouldn’t stop tickling “losers,” Megumi had to draw the line. Using all his strength, he flipped you over until you were underneath him, the sheer force of the impact keeping you nestled between his arms.

Both of you were panting, but this time his breath was taken away from how beautiful you looked under him like that. Such innocent eyes staring back up at him, but don’t think for a moment he didn’t notice how your eyes trailed over his lips. He knew – because he was doing the same, his grip subconsciously gripping harder at your wrists. If he leaned down...

“This is taking too long!” someone whined from behind the bushes, tips of white hair peaking from the plant. “Just kiss her already!”

Both of you turned at the source of the voice, simultaneously shouting, “Gojo-sensei?!”

“Don’t be shy, Megumi-kun! Just tell her already or I’ll tell her myself.”

“Tell me what?”

Now that your face was peering up at him, he knew he was trapped. Cornered. Megumi closed his eyes, hands trembling and losing their grip around you as he was confronted by the situation. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner,” he fumbled over his words, “But I...I actually—”

“Boring! What kind of confession is this? Say it louder and clearer or she won’t be impressed! Is that how a man does it, Megumi-kun? You can do better—”

“All of you, shut the fuck up!” he roared to his peers who only cackled around the bushes, Yuuji and Gojo-sensei doubling over in laughter while Toge bit his collar to stop the gleeful sounds leaving his mouth. Irritation and humiliation bubbling up in his chest, Megumi finally found the courage to confess. “I like you, okay? I’ve always had a crush—”

You sat up to wrap your arms around his neck, silencing him with a sloppy kiss. At first, your lips kissed the edges of his mouth before Megumi groaned, his large hand clasping the back of your neck to guide you to where he wanted you to be. Smiling through the kiss, you pulled away, rubbing your nose on him affectionately. “Me too, Megumi,” you giggled, “I like you too. Actually, no, I fell in love the moment you almost broke your nose on the ice—” he cut you off by kissing you again, his grip on your waist threatening, “Hey, no fair, I was still confessing!”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ll kiss you to make you shut up,” his confidence had now risen up, all traces of the shy Megumi now gone. “Now tell me that again. Tell me you like me.”

“Okay, but can I get another kiss?”

“You’ll be spoiled rotten.”

“I think I deserve it, don’t you think? I’m pretty cute – you’re lucky you get to kiss—” Megumi tugged you by your collar to slam your lips on his, his teeth nibbling at your lower lip. You tugged at his hair playfully and laughed, slapping his shoulder gently to tap out. “Fine, fine. I like you too!”

“Say it again. Please.”

“Not so shy now, eh, Megumi?” Satoru teased for the final time, and Megumi was so close to bursting a vein in his neck when his teacher showed up from the bushes, sexily posing on the grass as he winked at the both of you.

“SHUT UP!”

[rebeccccccaaa]

ᴄᴀᴛ’s ɢᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ?

__________________________

ᴄᴀᴍ ʙᴏʏ/ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ! ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You have always been more modest not really ever having time to explore what could have been some sort of sensual alter ego and when Bucky finds out hes determined to bring the sex goddess in you out.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: slight fluff if you count flirty bucky, smut ofc (minors dni) [cam boy bucky (slight tipsy bucky and reader in the beginning); brief male masterbation (bucky has his door open during a session); fem!rec oral; hair pulling; spanking; real dirty talking; strong language, degradation; loss of virginity/ virgin reader but not innocent, touch starved reader, and overstim, overall pretty rough but aftercareeee]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: sorry in advanced if you don’t like iced coffee lol

_____________________________

“There’s no way; you’re such a fucking liar,” Bucky threw his head back with laughter.

“I knew I shouldn’t have fucking said anything,” you scoff, rolling your eyes before standing up with annoyance.

“No! Don’t go, come on. I didn’t mean it like that,” he chuckled.

“Yeah right,” you scoffed.

“Can I ask why?”

“I mean, honestly. I just never really had time. Although, I did avoid sweaty football players all of high school, but being in uni I just want to grind and grind, you know? Finish school and get my degree. I don’t really have much time going out and getting laid,” you explained.

“Shit, does my… ‘side job’ make you uncomfortable? I didn’t realize how you would feel about it being a vir-”

“Buck, I’m a virgin, not innocent,” you chuckled.

“Damn straight,” Bucky laughed.

“Let me help you,” he said, making you laugh out loud.

"With what?" you asked in disbelief.

"Let me take your virginity. 'S better than fucking some random drunkard in a one night stand, and let's face it, you're not getting a boyfriend anytime soon."

You couldn't help but keep laughing at what he was saying.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“You’re so full of shit, Barnes,” you snorted, too drunk to notice that Bucky wasn’t laughing.

“Offer stands whenever, pretty girl.”

That was four weeks ago.

Since then, you feel like the tension between you and your roommate was especially thick since your tipsy confession. You couldn’t tell whether the things Bucky would say now were intentionally inappropriate or you just had a dirty mind. He seemed to always be shirtless; always.

“Did all your shirts catch fire? No, they got stolen, huh?” you joked.

“Har, har. Don’t be such a prude, pretty girl.”

“I’m not a prude,” you mumbled; at least he had the muscles to flaunt.

One quiet Friday evening, you sat in your room working away at your desk. You had been at it for a couple hours and as much as you wanted to throw in the towel you were so close to finishing everything you needed to finish this weekend. You went to the kitchen to grab a snack, maybe make a coffee, before drilling for the last hour to get everything done.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Bucky said, standing with a glass of whiskey in hand. He always drinks before filming.

“Gettin’ ready for your… stuff?” you asked.

“What stuff?” he asked cheekily, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I haven’t posted anything in a couple weeks and my subscribers are thirsty,” he told you.

“I can only imagine,” you joked.

“Well, baby, I’m in the next room if you wanna stop imagining,” he said flirtatiously

“Fuck off. I’m just here to get coffee,” you smirked, grabbing the things you’ll need from the fridge.

“Well, then I’ll leave you to it,” Bucky said, smacking your ass hard before leaving for his room; you scoffed rolling your eyes at his antics.

You turned around making the coffee itself mindlessly before you grew slight concern when you had yet to hear the door of Bucky’s bedroom to shut. He always kept his door shut whilst you wore headphones blasting music so you wouldn’t have to listen to his unnecessary moaning and cursing. You silently begged the machine to hurry it’s brewing as Bucky began talking and moaning to his audience.

You gritted your teeth hearing him so clearly. Your breathing quickened and you felt your cheeks heat up. You hated how you wondered if he really was as vocal in bed as he portrayed online. You hated the way your stomach flipped and the tingle between your thighs. You’ve never felt so aroused before, you didn’t know what to do.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, and you swallowed the dry lum in your throat.

You don’t even know how long you stood in the kitchen listening to Bucky. You were incredibly aroused, wetness pooling between your thighs. Your hands gripped at the counter desperate to not let your knees buckle as he got closer to his release.

“God, fuck you James,” you mumbled to yourself.

You couldn’t take it the groans he practically was screaming from his room. You stomped your way to his room to yell at him to close the door. You were enraged but you don’t really know why. Bucky’s side job never bothered so much until now and truthfully he wasn’t really to blame for how turned on you felt hearing him.

“Can you close the goddamn door?” you yelled approaching his bedroom.

“I hate to interrupt but I can fucking hear you- in the… kitchen,” you trailed off.

Bucky sat on his bed completely nude. His cheeks were red and his forehead had a layer of sweat as did his very smooth and very toned chest. Your body completely froze. It’s not that you hadn’t seen a man naked before. You’ve watched porn during the more stressful and lonelier nights, but Bucky was beautiful.

“Care to join?” Bucky breathed with a stupid smile.

“Jesus,” you gasped.

“I ain’t forget about that offer, pretty girl,” Bucky stood, chuckling when you visibly trembled.

“Whatcha say? You ready to finally deflower?” Bucky walked closer to you with a devilish smirk plastered on his handsome face.

“I’m sorry-” you stumbled over your words.

Your stomach fluttered from nervousness and arousal, your skin bursted into chills despite how hot and sweaty you were beginning to feel. You kept your eyes trained to anywhere but Bucky’s assets.

"What's wrong, pretty girl? Cat's got your tongue?" he teased.

"James," you said sternly.

"Baby, I can make you feel so good. All you have to do is say the word," he whispered in your ear, making you shudder.

You know deep inside you that this wasn't a good idea in the long run. It sounds so tempting now but what would happen afterwards? What would happen to your friendship?

"Stop thinking so hard. Just let me make you feel good, please," he begged.

His hands caressed your sides and you couldn't resist squirming; he hasn't even touched you.

"I can tell you're starving. Itching to be touched by someone. Those lonely nights with a laptop and your fingers isn't enough. I can help you, pretty girl. Give you so much and more; give you nirvana. Just say the word," he spoke slowly, sensually; you were damn near shaking just from his words.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what?" he teased; Bucky was drunk off the power he had over you.

"Fuck me. Use me. Ruin me," you begged.

"As you wish."

Bucky grabbed the back of your neck smashing his lips to yours. He grinded his hips into you and you feel his hard on digging into you. Your fingers dug into the soft skin of his chest leaving small red marks and scratches littered.

Bucky moved his hand up behind your head, curling his fingers in your hair pulling harshly. his lips instantly attached to your neck biting and sucking to mark you, so you remember he was the one who made you feel euphoric in the coming days. He wants you to remember this night.

"Shit, that feels so good," you sighed.

"That's just the beginning, pretty girl. Get on the bed," he demanded.

You scurried to bed tearing your shirt and shorts off leaving you in your dark lacey undergarments.

"It's like you were ready for me to fuck you," he chuckled darkly.

He crawled up the bed to you like an animal hunting and taunting its prey. You couldn't help but nibble on your bottom lip, anxious for what was to come from Bucky.

His hands gripped your waist firmly pulling impossibly close to his body. He kissed you again and you swore you could stay like that forever. His lips felt so soft again yours, you melted against his body from pleasure.

His hands circled your back and pulled at the bra clasp before swiftly undoing it and letting free. You shrugged your shoulders to your ears allowing the straps of the bra fall gracefully down your upper arm before Bucky curled his finger over the front and tossed it aside to admire your chest.

Your shoulders subconsciously caved in, embarrassed to be so unclothed in front of someone for the first time. Again, you weren't innocent but anyone would still be nervous for their first time. Bucky smiled softly at your timidness; his hands rubbing your sides slowly and comforting to help ease your nerves a bit.

"You are so gorgeous, baby."

"Don't get sappy, Barnes," you joked; but in reality you don't need another reason to fall deeper for him. Not that you're falling to begin with.

"Yes ma'am," he grinned.

He flipped the both of you over so you laid on your back. His hands gently kneaded your breasts pulling moans from you with every squeeze. He leaned down, taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting your perked buds, circling his tongue around. Your back arched into him and you think you can handle the pleasure but you find yourself involuntarily getting higher and higher. Moaning and gasping louder every time Bucky would bite down hard on your nipple. The last straw was when Bucky brought his fingers between your thighs and barely pressed against your aching clit that you fell suddenly over the edge crying Bucky's name.

"Did you just-"

"Fuck, I'm sorry! I don't know what happened. I- Everything just-"

Bucky cut you off with a deep kiss.

"Don't be sorry," he chuckled.

"It's really hot that I was able to make you cum by just playing with these beauties," he flicked your nipples and squeezed your breats making you tremble.

“Shit, too much,” you whined.

Bucky ignored you once again, dipping his head back down, flicking his tongue over your overly sensitive buds. The squeal you made made Bucky chuckle darkly but he didn’t want to torture you so his lips trailed slowly down the valley of your breasts to you belly and hip bones. His fingers curled over your panties dragging them slowly down your legs.

“Fucking hell, pretty girl. You’re dripping. You’ve just been aching for me to get my hands on you for a while, huh?” Bucky taunted.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Absolutely gorgeous.”

Bucky’s hands rested against your knees pushing them as far as they could go before diving in you like a starved man. Truthfully, Bucky had dreamed of this moment since he met you for the first time moving in. As the days, weeks, and years went by, the urge to resist kissing and fucking you stupid was getting all to much. But now he finally has you under him, at his mercy and he was determined to pleasure as much as he could before getting his cock anywhere near you.

Bucky brought his fingers to circle your entrance, waiting until your legs were nearly shaking from the teasing. As he pushed his fingers past your folds, he brought his mouth down again kissing right above your clit. You gasped and sighed in pleasure as he pumped his fingers in and out of you heavenly.

“Shit, feels so good. So, so good,” you moaned.

Bucky’s tongue brushed over your clit and you couldn’t resist bucking your hips, pushing his fingers deeper inside you. Your back arched off the bed and your hands shot to his head tugging on his dark locks harshly. Bucky’s moans from your tugs vibrated against you and you knew you weren’t going to last any longer.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Bucky! Shit!” you shrieked.

“Come on, pretty girl. Be a good girl and come all over my fingers,” he said.

Seconds later, you reached your high, crying Bucky’s names again as if it was the only word you knew how to say. Your head practically dangled off the bed, scooting closer and closer to edge desperate to pull away from Bucky’s talented mouth.

“God, you’re beautiful when you fall apart like that,” Bucky mumbled against your heated skin.

Sweat lined your forehead and your chest, your hair was scattered across the sheets like a maniac, and your skin along your neck down to your inner thighs was littered with little bruises and bite marks from Bucky. You looked ethereal.

“One more. Can you give me one more?” Bucky asked softly.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

“Such a good girl. I know you can, come on.”

Bucky gently flipped your body over, laying you on your stomach. He kissed down your spine, whispering sweet and kind things to you. You can’t even register what he’s saying because his godly erection is poking your ass and you're practically aching again to be railed by him.

“So eager for my cock, aren’t ya? Already being such a greedy little whore.”

“Please, Bucky,” you begged, wiggling your ass against his crotch.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good; gonna ruin you for anyone else,” he whispered in your ear before biting on your earlobe.

He stood tall on his knees behind you gripping your hips, roughly pulling them flush against his pelvis; you pushed yourself up on your hands. He grabbed his aching cock, the tip red and leaking with precum. Bucky doesn’t even know how he was able to last so long without cumming but he did and now all he wants to do is cum deep inside you.

“Ready, pretty girl?” he teased, rubbing your cheeks softly with his hands.

“Fuck me good, James,” you moaned.

Bucky lined his dick with your entrance slowly pushing the tip past your folds. The burning sensation caused you to hiss and tense around Bucky, who instantly stopped his movements.

“No, it’s ok; you’re just bigger than I was anticipating,” you fussed.

“It’s ok. If it’s too much you tell me to stop,” Bucky told you.

“No, don’t stop, please!” you whined.

“Don’t get greedy,” Bucky warned.

“Think you can handle all of me?”

“Fuck,” you muttered.

He pushed his hips further in you slowly, careful to not hurt you. His hands ran slowly up your body before curling his fingers through your hair and pulling your head up. Once he bottomed out, he rested for a minute until you were ready for him to move.

“Holy fucking hell, baby. Feel so good wrapped around my cock, shit,” Bucky groaned above you.

“I feel so- full.”

“‘S like you were made for me, pretty girl.”

Bucky’s hips began to move faster and faster pulling moans from you that was music to his ears. Bucky relished in your sex. He used every ounce of willpower in him to keep control but you felt so heavenly, so sublime. He couldn’t hold back any longer. You could tell that Bucky was holding back and you didn’t want him to. He pleasured you twice already, it was his turn to feel good and if letting go would do that for him you would let him.

“Come on, Bucky. Fuckin’ ruin me!”

“Don’t say shit like that,” he grunted, still thrusting his hips.

“I can take it, baby. Use me,” you told him.

Bucky’s hips stilled only for a second before you felt a sharp stinging on your right ass cheek.

“You want me to fuck you like a whore? Fine, I will,” Bucky growled before pulling out and flipping you over.

Bucky rammed his hips into you fast and rough. His hand went to wrap around your throat squeezing the sides and your eyes rolled back. Tears brimmed your eyes and you cried out over and over again. You felt used, corrupted, violated. You love it.

“Fuck, yes!”

“Shit, I’m gonna fucking come,” Bucky groaned.

Bucky released your throat before dipping his head in the crook of your neck. His groans and moans were muffled by your skin. Your hands wrapped around his neck and your legs too wrapped around his torso pulling his body flushed against yours. Your nails ran down Bucky’s back; he breathed in sharply through gritted teeth before moaning loudly in your ear from the pleasurable sting.

Chasing his release along with yours, Bucky’s thrusts became relentless. Animalistic. Feral, even. Everything felt overwhelming. It didn’t take much longer until you felt Bucky’s stuttering thrusts and the spurts of warm cum coating your velvety walls. Bucky completely relaxed on top of you, his breath heavily hitting your sweaty skin. You scratched his back softly coming down from your own high breathing equally as heavily.

“You feeling ok, pretty girl?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you whispered with a stupid grin on your face.

“You did amazing, you know?” Bucky kissed you softly; your stomach fluttering at the action.

“What now?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Now, I’m going to take care of you,” Bucky said, hopping off you and the bed.

You laid there breathing slowly now. You didn’t have the energy to move at this point. Your inner thighs burned deliciously and the soreness began to be more apparent all over your body. Bucky came back with a warm towel and bottle of water from the kitchen. He cleaned you up with the towel and you could help the soft moans and whimpers that escaped from you. Once you were cleaned, Bucky helped you sit up and held the now open water bottle for you to hydrate yourself. You couldn’t shake the butterflies and chills you got from Bucky’s stare. He couldn’t take his eyes off you anymore; like you hung the moon and stars for him.

“What?” you asked shyly.

“Nothing,” he grinned.

“Come on. You’ve gotta go pee,” he said carrying you in his arms towards his bathroom.

“No, I just want to go to sleep already,” you whined, voice muffled in the crook of his neck.

Bucky sat on you on the toilet and waited for you to… do your business. You just sat there squirming, and shaking from the cold that hit your body.

“Come on. You have to,” Bucky explained.

“I know, but I can’t pee in front of you. I’m shy,” you mumbled.

“Seriously, I just fucked-”

“Bucky, please,” you cut him off.

“Oh alright. Come back to bed when you’re finished, pretty girl,” Bucky said before leaving you.

You couldn’t shake the smile off your face. He was being so caring and nice to you, it warmed your heart. You felt a bit of heartbreak however wondering if this was just a one time thing. You cleaned yourself again and washed your hands before snatching one of Bucky's t-shirts that laid on the floor. When you came out Bucky was fiddling with his camera that was still set-up and your heart dropped.

Had he recorded the whole thing?

“I was gonna delete all the footage, but in all honesty you look so fucking sexy. Might keep it for myself,” he said winking.

“You recorded the whole thing without telling me?” you asked, tearing up.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m not gonna post it anywhere. You sorta screamed my name a few times so footage ain’t good anyway,” he said, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Hey, hey. I’m kidding. I’ll delete all of it, I promise,” he cupped your face.

“Come here; I gotta do one more thing for you,” he said, laying you down on the bed once again.

“What are you doing?” Bucky grabbed another towel and some scented lotion placing it on his bedside table.

“I’m gonna give you a massage. You’ll be less sore tomorrow morning. I’ll admit I was a bit rough,” he said, kissing your belly as he lifted his shirt off your body.

“You do this to all the girls you sleep with?” you teased, not really wanting an answer but you’ll play a part if it keeps from being humiliated because of feelings.

“Only the pretty girls,” he says, fully referencing his nickname he gave you a while ago.

“And how many pretty girls might you have?”

“There’s only one,” he whispered; his hands massaging along your back slowly, sensually.

“She must be really lucky,” you whispered too, afraid of speaking too loud.

“If anything, I’d say I’m the lucky one.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, she’s… she’s perfect. Beautiful. Smart. I could go on about her.”

“She sounds like a prude,” you joked.

“She was,” he chuckled.

“But trust me, now she’s a real feisty and sexy woman,” Bucky said before biting down hard on one of your ass cheeks.

“Ow! Bucky!” you squealed, making Bucky laugh.

Bucky tossed the towel away and placed the lotion back on the bedside table before grabbing the blankets and crawling under them with you. He held you close, entangling his legs with yours, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“You mean all that?” you asked barely audibly.

“Yeah. I do, pretty girl.”

“You don’t have to delete the video,” you smirked, making Bucky laugh out loud.

He kissed your forehead snuggling closer to you, letting peaceful sleep envelop you both.

=============================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

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Bucky Barnes Taglist:

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[tteokdoroki]

— “SHARING IS CARING + DABI/TOUYA TODOROKI.” ft. shoto todoroki.

author’s note(s): i havent written in days bc ive been working on other things but here’s this bc i am a whore. btw reader and shoto are third years/18 in this so hold onto your wigs lol.

warning(s): mdni, 18+. smut, dark content, dub-con, manipulation, cheating, choking, breath play, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyerism kinda, corruption!kink, virginity loss, degradation. characters aged up to 18. fem!reader.

touya todoroki has always been better than his brothers, at everything. praised from a young age for his powerful abilities, handsome face and charming smile— touya is the todoroki family’s prized gem. the favourite, prodigy son. the one who always gets what he wants. of course, until precious shoto todoroki arrives.

shoto, the undeniably gorgeous boy with dual chrome eyes and hair to match— an aloofness about him that draws everyone in, especially at school where he excels and wears himself at the top of his class in U.A academy. now; he’s everyone’s favourite boy, endeavour’s, his mother’s and yours. you, the sweet and innocent little girl who lives about two blocks away. the whole neighbourhood knows who you are, the apples of your cheeks stretched into a darling smile, that’s sometimes etched with an air of shyness when someone compliments you on how pretty you are.

you have doe eyes that watch shoto with such awe because you’re so impressed by what he can do, because you love how kindly he treats you and how he protects you from hungry stares belonging to others. touya finds your innocence annoying; the first time his younger brother brings you for dinner. the way you stutter over your words when speaking with rei or enji and how hide behind shoto whenever the eldest enters the room.

but you’re nice to look at, he can see why his pest of a younger sibling keeps you around. does shoto realise how far your skirt rides up over your ass whenever you bend over? how your thighs resembling pillows spill over the tops of your school socks? and how your lips are always so bitten and cherry red— everything about you is so fuckable.

and like i said, touya todoroki always gets what he wants.

“i’m better than him, aren’t i sweetness? you like the way this cock fucks you. c’mon, tell me how good i make you feel.”

touya doesn’t really need an answer, especially when it’s unlikely that he’ll get one from you. pretty little girl, sweet ass up in the air and raw from the onslaught of spanks he’d given you earlier. your cunt shines with a slickness he so proudly knows that he’s caused and your hole puckers around nothing— so eager to be filled by the eldest todoroki’s cock. “t-touya, need you. p-please...” you babble, clawing at his black linen sheets, already stained with nectar from your leaky cunny.

oh you’re so good, so nice for him when you’re fucked dumb and on the edge of frustration— you say just what he wants to hear, so eager to please that you’d beg him for days if it meant you’d get your pussy abused and used. “that’s right little girl, you need me, right? ‘cause lil sho can’t take you the way i do. you need me to show you what it’s like to feel good.”

touya lives for the way your hips jump back from just his dirty words alone, clit pushing deliciously against the tip of his length— you’re so cute when you want it. when you wanna be fucked by an older, more experienced dick. you know that touya has what shoto doesn’t. you know you can always rely on him to make you cum when shoto can’t.

any decent older brother would feel bad for taking advantage of his sibling’s girl, but touya has a point to prove. he’ll always be the better todoroki, he knows that, especially when his burning cock sinks into your tight hole— the one that welcomes him into your velvet walls, so perfectly carved into the shape of him.

a drawn out and gargled whine bubbles in the back of your throat, the stretch making your eyes roll so far back into your head touya would have thought you’d passed out, it wouldn’t have been the first time either.

oh no, he remembers the way he’d made your fleshy thighs quiver and your meek voice turn to screams when he’d taken you in the bathroom across the hall from shoto’s bedroom the first time you stayed the night. or the time that he’d cornered you in the kitchen while you made a study snack for you and your boyfriend, carelessly flipping your skirt up and creaming in your virgin cunt until all you could say were mindlessly repeats of his name. touya. his name always sounded so pretty against jumbled words that slid across your tongue.

that one time in the kitchen, touya had sent you back to shoto’s room with your pink lace panties full of his pungent seed and had listened to shoto fuck it deeper inside of you later that night when you let the younger take you for the first time. touya wonders if his little brother truly believes he was lucky enough to take your virginity or if he knows how much of a whore you are for the eldest, white haired sibling. possession flares in his chest at the very thought, making him plunge himself into the deepest parts of you while you quiver like a little bitch below him.

his piercings drag up and down your gummy walls, friction causing you to drool amongst the pillows that you drown in. touya’s large hand pushes down on the small of your back, shaping your body into an uncomfortable arch— you whimper but don’t complain. taking his dick like you should, accepting him like you should. his balls, oh so heavy with cum, slap against your cheeks while your juices paint his tummy from how much you leak and the lewd sounds fill the air so loud, there’s no doubt poor little shoto todoroki can hear it through the walls.

“sweetness, you’re so bad— sneaking off to let your boyfriend’s big brother make you scream. you’re just a slut for the todoroki dick...aren’t ya? you’d probably let nat in on it too...” touya slurs, drooling at the way your backside bounces with every slam of his hips into you.

“n-no-! no... ‘m not a slut...not a—!” you squeal pathetically, barely able to finish your sentence as touya shoves your face into the sheets harshly— deep chuckle reverberating in his chest as he presses it to your sweaty back.

you still yourself, taking all what he gives to you even if it means you can barely breathe. the eldest todoroki lifts a hand to knock on the thin walls separating him from his little brother; words coming out as breathless as he thrusts into you deeper, harder, faster— abusing your barely prepped hole. “ya’hear that sho, yur lil angel’s not as innocent as you think; she’d let all of us fuck her if we asked nicely...” the way he speaks about you is mean; it could make you cry but all you do in response is clamp down on the man above you and suck him in deeper, selfishly just like he’d taught you. he smirks with pride at how much your cunt lives for him, at how his little brother is getting the show of his life time— probably jerking off to the sounds of his girl getting railed but someone who isn’t him.

touya’s hips stutter and he cums inside you with a shout, thick ropes of his hot seed spraying against your walls and seeping between your puffy folds. ringed fingers find your clit, drawing circles into them until you tip over the edge and tumble into your own release, clamping down so hard that you draw blanks from your boyfriend’s older brother. the way you twitch after touya’s emptied himself inside you, letting him press down on the sweet bulge at your tummy so his cum leaks out— almost makes him want to brush the hair away from your face and kiss you, but he remains objective— treating you as proof that he will always be the superior sibling.

when he’s pulled out of you and helped you to shaky legs to leave— he watched the regret wash over your innocent features like it always does when he’s made a woman out of you. “tell my little brother i said; sharing is caring, sweetness.” touya asks of you oh-so-kindly, revelling in the way your bottom trembles and a fresh set of tears well in your bambi eyes.

what? he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t mean to make you cry, but that would defeat the purpose if he was telling the truth.

[mysterioushogwartsrequests]

Hello! Can I request an imagine with Draco and a Slytherin! Reader where they both are totally in love with each other and maybe one day in class Draco is being particularly needy/frustrated one day and she’s his partner and sees he’s super hard and she teases him but when class is over he asks the reader to give him a blowjob because he loves her mouth and he’s just so whiny and he later spoils the hell out of his girl at Hogsmeade!

This is literally SOOOO LONG!! I don’t know why I wrote so much, but I just really wanted to include all that stuff, lol. My excuse for the length is that I hit a 1,000 followers about two days ago so this is the celebratory piece! 

This goes without saying, but this piece contains a lot of sexual content so please do not read if you are underage or uncomfortable with said topics. I also wrote this in a different perspective because I wanted to try it out so I hope you enjoy!

Warning: SMUT, Oral (Male Receiving)

Title: Princess

                                                 ϟ ϟ ϟ

It was a warm summer’s day, close to the start of the new term. These past few weeks at Malfoy Manor had been tense and Draco often found himself rather stressed . A large part of him felt guilty for leaving his mother at home in the presence of Lord Voldemort, but another part of him felt grateful to be out of his sight. Finally, he could escape the Dark Lord’s watchful eyes, but he could not escape the plan set for him to complete.

Draco’s eyebrows knitted together as he squinted towards the merchandise wall inside Twilfitt and Tattings. Even when he was not around, Draco could still sense the Dark Lord’s influence and the constant reminder of the outcome if he were to fail. However, as he thought of better ways to mend the vanishing cabinet, something caught his attention.  

“Draco darling,” You called to him, stepping out of the changing room with a small smile on your face. Draco’s eyes widened in an instant, a lump forming in his throat as he examined the champagne dress clinging to your body. It was a delicate number with thin, spaghetti strap sleeves attached to the cowl-neck gown, the silk fabric shimmering softly as you stepped onto the podium.  

With a content hum, Draco pushed himself off the wall, his grey eyes locked with yours in the shop mirror as he walked towards you. He rested his hand against your waist, his fingers tenderly sliding down to feel the smooth silk against them, “You look ravishing,” he whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss against the shell of it before stepping back to get a better view of you.  

You smiled satisfyingly, taking a moment to admire the all-black ensemble he wore and how it slimmed him down in all the right places. He stood in a black turtleneck and a fitted suit jacket, his left hand in the pocket of his slacks while the thumb of the other swiped over his bottom lip. A string of questions crossed through Draco’s mind, “When would you wear this?” he thought, tapping his finger against his chin.  

Surely, there was no surprise ball this year, he would’ve heard by now. “Would you wear it on a date?” he questioned, imagining a scenario where the two of you ate dinner at a fancy restaurant, illuminated by just candlelight. “Even better,” Draco trailed off, his eyes lingering over your arse as you admired yourself in the mirror, looking over your shoulder to see the diamond detail that connected the open back, “What would such an expensive piece of clothing look like on his dormitory floor?”  

Draco recalled the conversation he shared with his mother a week prior, where she had counseled him after a particularly difficult day. Narcissa Malfoy had an interesting way of comforting her son. Of course, she sat and listened to him, holding him as he cried, a mixture of guilt and failure coursing through her veins as she fought against the Dark Lord’s plans for her beloved son. The next day, however, she entered Draco’s room with a smile and presented a brand-new wardrobe for him as a start of term gift.  

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, Draco gave a gentle smile and looked up at you, instantly meeting your hopeful eyes.  

“Oh, those eyes” 

“I’m not sure if I should get it,” You admitted, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as you hopped off the podium and halted in front of the platinum-haired boy. Closing his eyes, Draco took a deep breath, captivated by the intoxicating smell of vanilla radiating off your body. An exquisite aroma, packaged in a —hand-blown— glass perfume bottle with delicate golden leaves painted onto it, finished off with your initials carved at the bottom of it.  

Another one of Draco’s thoughtful gifts.  

“And why is that?” asked Draco, his hand resting against the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing small circles against your jaw. The dress was cut just right, the tight, draped bodice granted him a wonderful view of your breasts, but he looked away to halt the tightening of his pants.  

“I’ve got no occasion for a dress like this,” declared a slightly defeated (Y/N), taking another glance in the mirror, “Well, we’ve still got the goodbye dinner with your parents” You recalled, running your hands down your hips, unintentionally catching Draco’s attention as he remembered the family dinner he had forgotten about. 

“That settles it then,” announced Draco in a chipper tone, “I’ll buy the dress,” he grinned, stepping towards his girlfriend, but halting by the display of diamond accessories. With a glance over the merchandise, he pointed at a necklace set with a pair of earrings, receiving praises from the shopkeeper. Taking the necklace from the older wizard, Draco walked over to (Y/N), “turn around,” he uttered and you happily obliged, watching him as he placed the delicate piece around your neck.  

“Draco-” you began to protest, but he only pressed a kiss against your cheek, clasping the necklace and letting his fingers linger at the back of your neck. The necklace was a breathtaking, diamond necklace with seven glittering emeralds spread evenly across the center.  

“The bracelet and earrings will do nicely as well,” Draco said, nodding his head in approval and signaling for the shopkeeper to begin ringing them up. You opened your mouth to protest again, but Draco placed his finger against your lips, “I believe you recall what I’ve told you, hm?” he teased, raising a questioning eyebrow as (Y/N) nodded, fighting back a smile, “Then, let Daddy spoil you, Princess.”  

There was no denying the power Draco’s tone held over you. His words shot straight between your legs, the feeling of his lips pressed against the side of your neck making you fall against him, finally becoming aware of his erection now pressed against your thigh. 

“Let's finish up so we can go back to the Manor,” you proposed, shifting your thigh ever so slightly to provide him with some much-needed friction. Draco bit his lip and gave a stiff nod, stepping away from you before you could tease him further.  

“Go change,” he ordered, the cocky smirk returning to his lips, “You’ve got five minutes.” Running back towards the dressing room, you peeled off the dress and stepped into your usual clothes, practically sprinting out of it once finished. After a hasty checkout, the two of you exited the shop hand-in-hand, the bag containing your gifts swinging in Draco’s other hand.

                                                             ϟ ϟ ϟ

This school year proved to be the most difficult one yet. N.E.W.T.s we’re now less than a year away and it was never too soon to begin revising. You, however, found it quite difficult to focus on school these last few days. Despite his constant reassurances that he was all right, (Y/N) found some of Draco’s recent behavior quite odd. This strange feeling first arose the week you stayed at Malfoy Manor, where the four of them sat cautiously at a table with Draco’s aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. You had always had a good relationship with Draco’s relatives, but it was clear to you something was occurring under wraps, something Draco did not want you to know about. Noting his hesitation whenever you brought up the subject, you decided against prying any more information out of him and returned to your studies. Your dedication to academic achievement, much to your surprise, did not go unnoticed by the new Potions Master at Hogwarts, who had heard all about you and Miss Hermione Granger, the two top students of the sixth year.  

Horace Slughorn was a portly, older man, but very gifted with potions and an excellent Professor. Upon arrival, he sought out some of the school’s most promising students and invited them to his office for an elegant dinner. One morning, during breakfast, your owl dropped the intricately decorated envelope right in front of your plate. You had no chance to conceal the envelope from your curious boyfriend, the same one that had tried, without succeeding, to get invited to said dinner.  

However, to your surprise, Draco was not upset. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss against your temple and muttered the words, “You deserve it, baby girl.” The pet name sends chills down your spine, a smile playing at your lip as his hand rests upon your knee, the cold metal of his rings easing any sort of tension in your body. His left hand rested against your jawline, his slender fingers twiddling with the pearl earring, admiring the small ruby motif encrusted right above the hanging pearl.  

(Y/N) leaned her cheek against his palm, setting the invitation down on the dining hall table, “Are you sure, Darling?” you questioned, taking the time to rest your hand over his, “I might not be able to fit it into my schedule...” you admitted, thoughts of Draco’s mysterious disappearances crossing your mind. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, Draco pressed a soft kiss against the back of it before leaning to press one against your lips.  

“I think,” he started, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, “You should go show them what the brightest, most caring, and, without a doubt, sexiest girl in Slytherin House has to offer” Draco praised, giving your thigh a small squeeze before dipping to steal another kiss from you, “How does that sound?” He asked sweetly, showering you with yet another kiss, this one against your forehead.  

It was no secret that Draco Malfoy and (Y/N) (L/N) were truly and undeniably in love. Often, the corridors were filled with the incessant whispers of jealous girls who longed for Draco’s attention, but he paid no attention to them. The Slytherin Prince only had eyes for you, the only constant ray of sunshine in his life. Whenever he looked at you, he reminded himself of his vow to keep you completely satisfied, and the only reward he wanted was seeing that gorgeous smile on your face. You were everything to him. You were the only one who knew about his previous family troubles, the one who would hold him when he cried during the late hours of the evening. The one who would fix his tie the second it seemed out of place, the one who would rub his shoulders whenever you noticed him bent over his assignments.  

He would do everything and anything to ensure you felt like the luckiest girl in the world because he knew you, out of all people, deserved it the most.  

”You make an excellent point, Mr. Malfoy,” You grinned, nodding your head in agreement, and flinging your arms around his shoulders. A soft smile crept up Draco’s lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest and placing a kiss at the top of your head.  

“Don’t I always?” teased Draco, running his fingers through your hair as the other students exited the Great Hall and made their way towards the classes. Rolling your eyes at his response, you placed your hand against his cheek, stealing a kiss from him this time and rising from your seat.  

“We should go,” you announced, stretching your hand out for him to grab, which he happily obliged, rising from the bench and escorting you to your classroom.  

                                          ϟ ϟ ϟ

 A week had passed since Slughorn’s dinner party, the memory of the evening still fresh in Draco’s mind as he tapped his fingers against the wooden desk. Needless to say, he was not particularly pleased with the events of last Saturday. One of Slughorn’s guests had taken quite the liking to you, practically undressing you with his eyes during breakfast hours, something Draco found incredibly disrespectful. He recalled the way Cormac McLaggen eyed you this morning when you bent over to kiss your boyfriend goodbye, skipping out of the Great Hall without a care in the world.  

Draco clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as his eyebrows knitted together, sparks of frustration igniting within him. Not only was McLaggen ogling you like you were his last meal, but he was also casually brushing up beside you in the corridors, shooting Draco arrogant smirks when they locked eyes.  

Oh, how he would love to jinx that insufferable look off his face. Yeah, that’ll show him.  

He should have been paying attention to Professor Flitwick discussing the proper hand movement for the Gouging Spell, but the thoughts of McLaggen badgering you when he was not around boiled his blood. In hindsight, it was a good thing he was neglecting this lesson because the prospect of gouging a large hole through Cormac seemed very appealing. 

You were particularly busy this week and did not have a lot of time to spend with Draco. Sure, the two of you bid your usual goodnights in the Slytherin common room, but your studying had kept you away from Draco. Due to this, Draco Malfoy was left very touch starved and found himself daydreaming of your earlier rendezvous around the castle.  

Draco turned his head towards you, his face relaxing at once as he watched you diligently taking notes, as usual. You had your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing it softly as your quill scratched against the parchment. With a content sigh, he admired your concentration and wondered how a person could be that gorgeous. He was, truly, the luckiest man in the world when it came to you.  

He supposed that one could not blame McLaggen for falling for you- I mean, who wouldn’t? Any person would be swept off their feet if you entered the room wearing those silk dresses you were oh so fond of. Draco glanced down at those pretty, pink lips of yours, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head as you parted them, tongue swiping over your upper lip as you added the final details to your diagram.  

Biting his lip, Draco forced his attention towards Professor Flitwick, but it was already too late. The thoughts of you, sprawled across his bed at Malfoy Manor were enough to replace his earlier frustrations with feelings of lust.  

“Stop,” thought Draco, closing his eyes to contain his feelings, but it was no use. Your lips made an “O” shape when you finally grasped the Charms concepts, making goosebumps appear on Draco’s skin as he shuddered.  

What he would do to have you begging for him right now.  

His pants grew considerably tighter and he couldn’t help but feel grateful towards the school uniforms. The robe he was wearing did a decent job at hiding his current problem, but he knew it would be noticeable when he stood. However, that did not stop him from hearing the way you called his name in the back of his head.  

“Please, Draco...”

“Fuck,” cursed Draco under his breath, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, a slight touch of pink dusting his cheeks. Unable to keep his eyes away, Draco looked back towards you, scanning the soft skin of your neck, and noting how awfully bare it looked. With his self-restraint wavering, he subtly slid down the bench you shared and rested his hand on your knee, something he did quite often. However, you did not question him until you felt his lips against your neck and a hand wrapped tightly around your thigh. Turning your head to face him, you were surprised to see him with his hand over his mouth, his eyes averted from yours as his fingers danced against the smooth skin of your inner thigh.  

“Draco,” you cooed, but the only response you received was a rather harsh nip at your neck, “Draco, someone will see…”  

“I don’t care,” Draco snarled against your ear, “I need this bloody class to be over…” He murmured in a much softer tone, his hand rubbing circles against your thigh and inching closer to your clothed heat. But once you turned to scold him, you noticed the dark, red blush that painted his cheeks and felt his hot breath fanning against your face.  

“Are you alright?” you asked cautiously, innocently rubbing your thumb against his thigh, but that only made Draco twitch in his seat, and his reaction suddenly lit the bulb over your head. Your lips curled into a smirk as your hand moved closer to the bulge on Draco’s pants, turning your attention towards the front of the class as you continued your movements.  

Luckily, the two of you sat at the farthest end of the Charms classroom, away from any overly inquisitive eyes. You were certain nobody would notice, if Draco kept his cool, the two of you would be in the clear.  

“Couldn’t even wait till class was over?” You tutted, delicately tracing your fingers over his crotch, and smirking as he shifted in his seat, “Be careful, I don’t want us to get caught.” You added, firmly cupping his erection through his slacks, a wide grin spreading across your face as he doubled down and hid his face behind a book he propped up. It was honestly quite surprising to see Draco this way. Usually, he would be the one teasing you to no end, but you were currently in control and that was enough to light the fire of your arousal.  

“D-Don’t stop,” Draco pleaded under his breath, biting down on his thumb to hold back a moan as your palm worked to release the built-up tension. Encouraged by his dick twitching underneath your hand, you quickened your pace and watched as he parted his lips, struggling to keep any sound from coming out. As his breathing grew more ragged, you felt his abdominal muscles tense up against your touch, indicating that his release would wash over him soon.  

Fighting to keep the small sense of composure he had left, Draco gripped (Y/N)’s wrist and halted her movements. It took him a minute to catch his breath, but when he did, he spoke in a low whisper, “Wait...” His eyes never met yours because if he looked into those beautiful eyes of yours, he would not be able to control himself. And although the prospect of taking you over the desk seemed quite promising, he did not fancy the idea of letting the rest of the student body see you bent over in such a vulnerable state.  

That was only for him, of course.  

“What’s wrong, Darling?” You teased letting your fingers trace over his crotch again, but he only clicked his tongue at you. Draco knew you too well, he knew you were only trying to rile him up again, but he could not let that happen, not right now. With adrenaline coursing through your body, you leaned towards Draco and let your breath fan against his neck before licking a stripe behind his ear, “Didn’t want to come all over those expensive slacks of yours, hm?” You murmured, gently nipping his earlobe, and taking his momentary lapse of strength to palm his erection once more.  

Draco gritted his teeth once again, pulling your hand away from his pants, “I said wait,” he growled, his lust-clouded eyes finally meeting yours, “You do know how to follow instructions, don’t you?” He asked in a much harsher, more desperate tone.  

“Depends on who’s giving them.” You replied sarcastically, placing your free hand on his knee with a smirk.  

However, Draco did not get a chance to shoot his response back at you. Once the bell signaling the end of class rang, he shot up off his seat and gathered both your belongings before taking your hand and hastily pulling you out of the classroom. A few students stared as the two of you rushed down the hall, blushing in embarrassment as you stumbled after Draco.

His hand gripped yours tightly, leading you towards the Prefects’ bathroom, and stuttering out the password once the two of you arrived. Flinging your book bags across the floor, Draco turned and stalked towards you making you step back until your back hit something solid.

“Think you’re funny, are you?” sneered Draco, pinning you against one of the cubicles, his thigh pressed firmly between your legs and his right forearm braced beside your head. Replicating your earlier movements, Draco dragged his tongue underneath your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, making you gasp. “Why don’t we put that filthy mouth of yours to better use?” He cooed, blowing a puff of air against your ear, and admiring it as it turned red.  

With a sudden burst of confidence, you gripped his robes and pulled his face towards yours, breaths mingling together, “I think,” You muttered, leaning your lips close to his, “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day…” Looking up at his half-lidded eyes, you crashed your lips against Draco’s, fingers immediately tangling themselves in his hair. Draco returned your kiss eagerly, his hands cupping your arse underneath your skirt and pulling your body flush against his.  

You could feel Draco growing more impatient by the minute. His hands were grabbing desperately at your skin, squeezing every inch of bare flesh he could feel. Longing to have you closer to him, Draco slipped his hand underneath your thigh and hooked it over his hip, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. Your back arched off the wall, hips grinding against Draco’s as your tongues laced together in a heated kiss. Tugging at your tie, Draco reached to unbutton your blouse and pulled it open, exposing your bra-clad breasts.  

He pressed his lips against the base of your neck, biting and sucking encouraged by your moans beside his ear. One of his hands held your thigh firmly while the other kneaded your left breast, pulling the fabric of your bra down and taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You gasped harshly, bucking into him, and digging your fingers into his hair, messing up the parts that remained previously neat. Draco rolled his erection against your soaked panties, smiling down at your face as his hands kneaded your clothed breasts, “So pretty,” he murmured, captivated by your flushed face and the shameful sounds passing through your lips.  

Your hands reached up to grab his face, pulling him down for another kiss. This time, using the momentum to switch your positions so Draco’s back hit the stall door, earning a small moan of surprise from him. Grinning up at him, you pressed your lips against his neck and slid your hand down the front of his body, cupping him firmly as you sucked the sensitive skin. 

Draco let out gasping breaths as you moved your hand, his fingers digging into your waist, “On your knees,” commanded Draco, trying to regain some sort of control over the situation. You obliged happily, dropping down to your knees and lazily running your fingers over his thighs before reaching up for his belt. After fiddling with the buckle, you took your time sliding Draco’s slacks down, purposely neglecting his throbbing dick hidden in his underwear.  

“Don’t be a tease,” snapped Draco, gripping your chin harshly, “Suck,” He commanded firmly, releasing you as you pulled down his boxer briefs. Draco’s thick length snapped up towards his lower abs, almost slapping you in the face when it sprung out of its constraints. Almost drooling at the glorious sight of his cock, you took it in your hand, running your thumb over the pre-cum leaking out of the reddened tip. Draco bucked his hips forwards, hissing at the light touch, and looking down at your concentrated expression as you slowly pumped your hand.  

Lolling your tongue out dramatically, you leaned forwards and gave the tip a kitten lick, earning a frustrated groan from Draco. Satisfied with his discomfort, you gave the swollen tip another kiss before taking his length fully into your mouth. He let out a strangled gasp in response, his eyes squeezed shut as you enthusiastically licked up his length. Sealing off your lips, much like a vacuum seal, you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, tongue swirling around it as Draco trembled underneath you, his hand over his mouth attempting to stifle the sounds coming out of it.  

Draco looked down at you, unable to control the string of low moans and grunts spewing from his lips. The sight of your plump lips stretching around his cock made him lose the few ounces of coherent thoughts he had left in his mind. Draco let out another strangled moan, throwing his head back against the stall door as you swirl your tongue around his shaft and use your hand to pump the base of his cock. His hand flew to the back of your head when you moved to take all of him in your mouth, your nose brushing the trimmed tufts of hair as you choked around him, the contraction of your throat making him groan out your name.  

With another husky moan, Draco balled your hair up into a ponytail and used it as leverage to thrust into your mouth. “Yes, yes,” whimpered Draco, his face flushed red and his breath caught in his throat, “Just like that, (Y/N)” he hissed, his grey eyes flickering down and meeting yours, making his roll back again as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your fingernails dug into the back of his thighs, squeezing them tighter as he quickened his pace. You moaned around his dick, the vibrations sending a violent quake through his body as he face-fucked you, his climax only moments away.  

“Ah, you take my cock so well, Princess” groaned Draco, his pace stuttering, “You’re so bloody gorgeous” He sighed, his fingers delving tightly into your hair as you continued to swirl your tongue around the shaft, relaxing your jaw to let the tip of his penis hit the back of your throat.  

The sounds coming from Draco’s mouth had you soaking wet and yearning to feel his load shoot down your throat. Determined to finish him off, you moved your hand to fondle his balls, moaning with satisfaction as his cock pulsated in your mouth. His breaths grew ragged and the only sounds coming from him were small whimpers and grunts. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, his platinum blonde hair fell messily over his eyes, which were currently screwed shut as his face twisted with pleasure.   

Draco’s eyes fluttered open, meeting your eager ones for a second time, but it was too much. Cursing loudly, Draco’s pace grew sloppier and rougher, his body trembling as you fondled his balls once again.  

“(Y/N)!” He cried out as you gagged around him, thick ropes of cum coating the inside of your mouth as he came, hard. You struggled to swallow his heavy load, but you were adamant on taking every last drop, just how he liked it. Draco gasped as he caught his breath, his hand still in your hair as he gave your mouth two final shallow thrusts, pulling out as you licked him clean.  

With his chest heaving, Draco delicately placed his hand against your cheek and slid his thumb over your swollen lips. You press a chaste kiss against the pad of his thumb, the corners of your mouth curling up into a loving smile. He brought you back up to your feet, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all tongue before pulling away with a satisfied smile on his face.  

“You’re quite chipper now, aren’t you?” You teased, hitting him playfully on the shoulder as he pulled his slacks up, tucking his shirt back into his pants and shooting you a wink.  

“Yes, actually,” He retorted, his usual smirk appearing on his lips, “And why is that?” You asked, taking the time to button your own shirt, blushing as Draco stalked towards you. He placed his hand on the side of your neck, pulling down your collar to admire the angry, red marks that decorated it.  

With a small huff, he dipped down and sucked on the spot below your jaw, your knees buckling and hands gripping his shoulders as he bit down. Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Draco pulled away, smirking at the mark that would surely be visible for days.  

“Because I’m the only one who gets to have you like this,” admitted Draco, pulling you into a hug and resting his chin atop your head, “Can’t wait until I catch McLoser drooling over you, I’ll make sure to remind him who he’s dealing with.”  

You laughed at Draco’s declaration, your arms tightening around him as you embraced, “Are you ready for lunch then? He could already be there” You teased, pressing a kiss against his nose, and pulling away to pick up your bag from the bathroom floor. Draco chuckled as you skipped back towards him, giving your behind a playful smack as you walked past him, “Don’t run off thinking I won’t return the favor,” stated Draco salaciously, catching your hand and pulling you back before you could exit the bathroom.  

You looked up at him with a curious expression, “Is that so?” You questioned with a grin, walking towards him, and placing your hand on his chest, “Is it something I should look forward to?” You asked, tilting your head to the side innocently.  

Draco laughed, raising his hand to cup your cheek, “Come to my room tonight at eleven, wearing that pretty little dress from Twilfitt and Tattings,” muttered Draco, his lips close to yours once again, “I’ll make it worth your while,” he winked, his fingers dipping underneath your skirt to swipe over your clothed core.  

Shivering under his touch, you blushed embarrassingly as he examined the slick now coating his finger, “All for me, Princess?” He teased, contently licking his finger clean and grabbing his own book bag, “Actually, I was thinking about McLaggen” you quipped, stepping out of the Prefect’s bathroom with a bounce in your step which Draco followed after, his eyebrows furrowed as he flanked you. 

“Careful, Love” warned Draco with a hum, his hand sliding into yours as you walked, “or I’ll have to teach that naughty mouth of yours another lesson.”

                                               ϟ ϟ ϟ

 Your four-year anniversary drew nearer, and you found yourself worried about Draco’s behavior yet again. He grew increasingly distant as the term progressed and you could not help but worry, despite his constant reassurances, stating there was nothing to worry about. This, again, left you feeling frustrated. You and Draco started dating during your third year and it had taken a while to break down his walls to understand him, but now it seemed like some of that progress was overturned. 

However, when he was around, he always made the effort to shower you with affection and ensure you were being taken care of. Draco knew your habits better than anything, he knew you would be questioning his behavior and launching your own investigations to find the underlying cause of it, but he could not let you interfere. He was already under fire for having ‘distractions’ and had promised the Dark Lord nothing would come in the way of his success.  

To keep you safe, you had to be left in the dark. It wounded Draco to see that distraught expression on your face when he came into the common room past midnight, sometimes even asleep, curled up on the couch waiting for him to return. He felt guilty for putting you through all this, but it was necessary for your safety and nothing was more important than protecting you.  

His nights were constantly haunted by horrifying images of you injured or worse, dead in his arms after some terrible mistake he made. These thoughts were constantly wearing him down, but he could not tell you, it was just too risky to involve you in this situation. This stressful internal struggle encouraged Draco to show you how much you meant to him.  

He wanted you to know that you were, truly, the most important person in his life.  

“Draco,” You whined with your hands over your eyes as Draco led you through the empty streets of Hogsmeade, “Can’t I just open my eyes? I’ve been to Hogsmeade plenty of times” you reminded him, but he only chuckled beside you, holding you by the waist as you walked.  

“I’m trying to surprise you,” Draco stated, rolling his eyes, “So why don’t you stop complaining and follow me.” He declared, pressing a kiss against your cheek, and leading you towards the clothing shops in the village. Draco halted in front of a large store window, looking up at the dress and envisioning you in them with a proud grin.  

“Alright,” he started, grabbing the hands that covered your face, “Ready?” He murmured, pressing a kiss against her fingertips as you nodded. Counting to three, Draco pulled your hands away from your face and stepped out of your view, letting you take in the sight before you.  

In front of you stood a tall mannequin wearing a floor-length shimmering, emerald green gown with small silver detailing the bust, “Wow” you muttered breathlessly, leaning closer to the window to get a better look of the design. The mannequin turned 180 degrees, giving her a better view of the open back and long train that followed the dress.  

“Do you like it?” Draco asked, looking down at his ring with a content smile on his face. 

Your eyes scanned over the glittering, diamond pendant necklace complete with matching water drop earrings, “It’s gorgeous,” you replied, looking over at your boyfriend with a puzzled expression, “Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?” You asked, quirking your eyebrow at him as he laughed.  

“You know me well, Darling” Draco admitted sheepishly, leading you towards the door of the stop and holding it open, “I just thought, since you’ve been attending Slughorn’s dinner parties, that you would need some more evening outfits to show off,” He stated proudly, his hand against the small of your back as he gestured you towards the changing rooms.  

“Draco, I couldn’t possibly! You bought me one at the start of term!” You protested, grabbing his hands but part of you knew his mind was already made up. 

“You’re right,” He agreed with a nod, placing his hand against your cheek, “And I’m going to buy you four more today,” He stated nonchalantly, looking back at the four sets of the dresses brought over by the shopkeeper, “You better get started,” he urged, taking a seat on the ottoman in front of the dressing room.  

With a loving smile, you captured Draco’s lips in a kiss, “I love you” You said, squeezing his hand as he returned your smile.  

“And I love you most,” He replied, pressing a kiss against your forehead, and urging towards the dressing room, “Come on, I want to see how stunning you look in those.” Giggling, you ran into the changing room, winking back at Draco before sliding the curtain close and getting into the first dress.  

Several hours later, you and Draco exited the shop with four bags containing various dresses, jewelry pieces, and, even, a brand-new suit. After one final stop at Honeydukes, the two of you made your way towards the castle, treasuring the time you spent together and the memories you created while doing so.

[apricotgojo]

Could I please request Felix x reader please? Maybe where she’s friends with Adrien and meets Felix and he’s really soft with her and everyone’s really confused lol. Super fluffy please😌🙈

Hi! Sorry for the long wait i was super busy hh :(( but here it is! It’s not as fluffy as intended but i think that’s because i’m not good at writing fluff but nonetheless i hope you enjoy it. I love felix with all my heart so this was a treat to write <3

Pairing: Felix Graham de Vanily X Reader.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and swearing !

Tags: Fluff, Pls felix deserves the world thku very much.

Luka’s boat party at the Seine, something you’ve been looking forward for the past week.

Well, It’s not really a party.

A small get together with great people, good music and drinks.

This is the first time you’ve been invited to one of these parties and Marinette has told you many times that it’s going to be one to remember, even if it is lowkey.

Plus, you could warm up to more people other than the small circle of friends you have at college.

“Woah.” You say without even realising as you look around at the balloons and fairy lights all over the place.

As soon as you enter you see the place peppered with a few people, some people you’ve never seen in your entire life and some familiar faces from college.

Marinette and Alya were by your side, you walked to the boat with them.

“Juleka and Luka live here?” You ask.

“Yeah but Luka’s trying to find a new apartment right now.” Marinette says.

As if on cue, the blue haired boy makes his way over to you guys.

“Welcome ladies.” He says and smiles at all of you. “As usual, make yourselves comfortable, get some drinks and enjoy yourselves.”

“Hey look there’s Adrien!” You say and you were about to go greet him until you felt someone grab your hand, stopping you.

“Thanks Luka, the party looks amazing.” You compliment.

Your eyes fall onto a familiar blond and you smile.

You turn around and see Marinette, shaking her head. “That’s not Adrien, that’s Felix.”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Alya asks, gasping.

Marinette shrugs. “I have no clue, Adrien probably invited him.”

“I swear to god if that little blond bitch tries me again I won’t hesitate to kick him in the balls this time.”

“I think Alya needs a drink.” Luka chuckles and Alya nods angrily.

“Who’s Felix?” You ask and the three turn to look at you.

You look at them confused as to what they were talking about.

You could’ve sworn that he was Adrien, he looks exactly like him except his hair was straighter and neater. He reminded you of Draco Malfoy from Harry potter.

“The spawn of satan.” Alya mutters, rolling her eyes and sipping on her drink.

Marinette sighs and steals Alya’s drink from her hand.

“Hey!”

“That’s Felix, Adriens cousin. He’s kind of the complete opposite of Adrien.” Marinette explains.

“Meaning…?” You trail off.

“Meaning he’s a douchebag.” Alya states.

“Alya come on.” Marinette groans.

“Nope, she has a point.” Luka intervenes.

“Listen girl, when we were in middle school he sent us a video of him pretending to be Adrien and telling us how much he hates us.” Alya tells you and crosses her arms over her chest. “And last summer Adrien invited him to the beach with us and he didn’t even talk to us or swim because he’s worried that his pretty porcelain skin will get burnt. Trust me, the last thing you want to do is talk to him.” Alya says and snatches her drink back from Marinette before walking off.

“What Alya is trying to say is that yeah, he’s rude and yeah, kind of a douche too but don’t worry about him too much, he doesn’t really talk to any of us.”

He honestly sounded horrible.

I mean, not talking to them is one thing but almost ruining Adriens friendship with everyone is something else.

“Yeah because he hates us.” Luka says and Marinette glares at him which causes Luka to chuckle.

“Hey guys!” finally, the actual Adrien Agreste has come to talk to you guys.

“Hey Adrien.” You say and smile at him before giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek.

Marinette does the same to him and before quirking her eyebrow up. “Kagami isn’t here?” She asks.

“No she has to study for her exam tomorrow.” Adrien says and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Uh-huh.” Marinette narrows her eyes at him suspiciously but doesn’t say anything more.

“Oh yeah, guys, Felix is here.” Adrien laughs nervously.

“Adrien.” A voice chimes in.

It belonged to the notorious Felix who was now standing behind Adrien.

“Hey Felix.” Marinette says, smiling at him.

The blond furrows his eyebrows at her and rolls his eyes. “Adrien can we-“ He stops when he looks at you.

“Hi.” You say your name and hold your hand out. “It’s nice to meet you.” You say and he walks closer to you.

You gulp and chuckle awkwardly.

Knowing this guys attitude, you were scared about what he would say about you.

He takes you hand and shakes it. “I’m Felix, it’s nice to meet you too.” He says, a small smile on his face.

Everyone around you widens their eyes at the sight before them.

You look down and notice that he was still shaking your hand, looking at you, dazed.

Maybe he had too much to drink?

He removes his hand from yours quickly and you notice his cheeks tinting red. “Nothing.” He says and walks away.

Adrien clears his throat and pats him on the shoulder, snapping him out of it.

“What did you want to tell me Felix?”

“What. The. Fuck.” Marinette gapes. “I swear, when I met him for the first time he didn’t even shake my hand let alone smile at me.”

You felt like you were on the spot and ultimately it made you feel uncomfortable.

“Maybe he’s drunk or something?” You say and shrug.

“Felix doesn’t drink.” Adrien states.

You gulp. “Well I do.” You chuckle nervously and walk away from them to get a drink for yourself.

You move past people, muttering ‘excuse me’ as you walk to the little table where the drinks were. You pour yourself a drink.

“I’m not Adrien you brat.” You hear someone say and you instantly turn around.

“Ohhhhhhh…” A girl slurs. She was laughing against Felix, who looked incredibly uncomfortable with her presence. “doesn’t matter, we can still have a good time together.”

You watch Felix look around him and sigh, he didn’t even know what to say to her.

“I don’t want to.” He states.

“Why you got a girl or something?” She asks, sipping on her drink and hopping to the beat of the music.

You didn’t even realise that your body moved on it’s own.

“Yeah he does.” You say and walk over to Felix, kissing him on the cheek. “Here’s your drink babe.” You say and wink at him.

The colour of his face matched that of a tomato right now and he slowly took the drink from you, laughing nervously. “T-thank you.” He stutters out.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know.” The girl apologises.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, slightly smiling. “I could tell you were uncomfortable.”

“You’re good.” You shrug and grab Felix’s hand, “Au revoir!” You wave before dragging Felix elsewhere.

You found a secluded area on the boat near the railings. You figured he needed some air.

“Yes, I appreciate it.” He says, looking at the sea. “Thank you.”

You stare at him.

Since you’re getting a closer look at him you realise that he actually has different features from Adrien which you don’t notice at first.

His nose was a little longer with a few freckles peppered across it.

His skin was fairer, in fact it was so fair that every time he blushes you can see it evident on his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

His eyes were more narrowed but still held the same beautiful green, maybe felixs’ was more vibrant.

“What the hell did you put in this?” He asks.

You watch his long fingers curl against the cup tighter before sipping the drink.

His face contorts after.

“Liquor.” You state, chuckling. “What you can’t take the alcohol Felix?” You tease.

He scoffs, “Of course I can. Watch me.” He says and downs the rest of what was in the cup.

He looked really cute when he’s laughing.

He starts coughing after he finishes and cusses under his breath.

“That was strong shit.” He says and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

You start laughing, clutching your stomach as you do so.

You hear him slowly join in on your laughter soon after and you slightly open your eyes to see him.

“you know…” He says, wiping some lose tears from his eyes from the laughter “I don’t have many friends so I’m not really used to laughing like this.”

“Why don’t you try making more friends?” You asked him.

“Why am I any different?” You ask. “I mean, you barely talk to Marinette or any of Adriens friends.”

He shrugged at you and leaned against the railings.

“I don’t particularly like being around a lot of people, nor do I really enjoy people in general.” He mumbles, looking down. “But that’s just how I was brought up I guess.”

He stares at the floor boards and sighs. “When I saw you, my first thought wasn’t “oh she’s just one of Adriens friends” or “she’s probably going to talk to me because has to because ‘hey I’m known as Adriens spoiled rich cousin’” my first thought was ‘wow, she’s absolutely beautiful and she’s new around here, she doesn’t know of who I am so maybe I actually have a chance with someone. Even if it’s just a friend.”

You cut him of by getting on your tip toes and giving him a small kiss on the lips.

His comment made your cheeks heat up and a small smile twitch on your lips.

“Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, it’s probably the damn alcohol, I have no idea what shit im spurring out let alone-“

His mouth parts and his eyes were wide. “Maybe it’s the alcohol too or maybe I just wanted you to stop talking.” You whisper.

“I will kiss you again, only if you stop thinking that Adriens friends talk to you because they have to. You’re a sweet guy and you shouldn’t feel left out.” You tilt your head and place a hand on his cheek.

He was frozen. It was a cute sight but you were scared that you terrified the poor guy.

Suddenly he leans in for another kiss but you place a finger on his lips to stop him.

He stares into your eyes for a moment, as if trying to look for something other than the truth.

You could see the green properly, his eyes were glistening, like he had stars in them.

Felix cups your face with both hands and pulls you into a kiss, a deep one.

You may not know him very well but this moment with him felt right, you didn’t see him as just Adriens cousin. He was more than that.

He was Felix and right now with every movement of his lips against yours, you felt butterflies fluttering around your stomach.

“Hey guys.” You wave awkwardly to them and chuckle.

You hear someone clear their throat which makes you pull away from the kiss. You turn around and see your group of friends staring at you.

Alya had her hand clasped over her mouth.

Nino was wide eyed.

Marinette was smirking at you.

Adrien was smiling awkwardly.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere girl! We didn’t know you were sharing spit with Felix.” Alya exclaims walking up to you.  “Is he forcing you into doing something because I swear to god I will-“

“no no Alya, I’m the one who kissed him.” You say, smiling sheepishly.

“Why?” She deadpans, looking at you confused.

“Cesaire.” Felix says walking up to Alya. He clears his throat. “Are you still running that little blog of yours?”

Alya narrows her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yes.”

“It’s…” He stops and looks at you, as if for a moment, he’s remembering what you were talking about before. “It’s great. Even people In England are talking about it.”

Alya’s jaw drops. “Holy shit, really?”

Felix nods and you smile at him, knowing that he’s really trying.

“Nino! The ladyblog went international!” She exclaims and goes to hug her boyfriend.

You mentally thank him and he sends you a small wink before holding your hand.

Maybe you were the key to him finally being himself in front of others.

Maybe you could even become his everything.