#definitely write the fic for yourself with no direction

[miorirenkova]

“i know there’s a blade where your heart is, and you know how to use it”

assassin!reader x nishimura riki

“you can take my flesh if you want girl,

but baby don’t abuse it.”

summary: you were given the task to eliminate niki, in order to target his influential uncle who loved him quite a lot. to do so, you had to get close to him, perhaps catch him in a vulnerable position and finish the job. easy enough, right?

warnings: interesting family relations, revenge, depictions of violence and blood? smut, no fluff even if you squint

warnings for the smut: rough sex , fingering , oral (f and m recieving), hair pulling, choking, spanking , degrading , petnames/degrading names , dirty talk , creampie , breeding kink, knifeplay, overstimulation , biting , begging , size kink , corruption kink (i think), gagging, tieing up, multiple orgasms , messy making out, unprotected sex, pwp, p in v, cunt slapping, should be it forgive me if i missed anything

word count: 7.5k words

note: this is lowkey just pure filth badly written with the illusion of a plot 🙏���� also this def feels a bit like a drabble some places so forgive me 🙏 and if it doesent make sense/the writing is weird some places also forgive me!!!

this was a req for my friend and also forgive me if its bad not my best fs i def was losing it towards the end nd i didnt crosscheck!! sorry for the bad smut too cOUGH

also, the words with the red colour in the middle here and there (except for the last line) are all lyrics from the song ive linked so they arent actually saying it except for one part where they actually do say the lyrics and for that ive added quotations there so you would understand.

the song is a theme song that i chose for the fic cuz i like doing that for all my fics. its ur choice whether u wanna listen to it or not. tyy

mdni . hate comments will be deleted

(under cut!!)

————————————————————————

“yeah but.. why exactly are we targeting his nephew instead? i mean, it won’t be that hard to just take him out, right?” you replied in response to what your boss said as you poured yourself some coffee. great! you were barely finished with your last mission and now your boss is already pushing more work on you. and if it wasn’t already bad, you have to go undercover in this. and why that’s such a problem? it’s cause you can’t do acting for the love of god and always get close to fucking the act up.

“sure, but i don’t think you realise the political risks that come with having him executed. they won’t be directed at us sure but they definitely will cause a stir in media.” your boss replied as she took one of the cups of coffee from you. “and plus,” she added, “i promise you it’s much less tedious for you to eliminate his nephew then him. ill give you the briefing once again.” she paused before picking up some file and continued, “we will get you into the university the target studies in and all you have to do is get close to him, somehow, date him if necessary and just execute him when the time and place is right.” she completed, taking a sip from her coffee and moving her chair to her file cabinet, seemingly taking out some files as if she didn’t just drop a bomb on me.

easy, my ass!

do i look like someone who can easily just flirt their way into someone’s life? you groaned as you realised there truly was no way out of this and your boss was determined to have you do this.

“..i don’t have a say in this, do i?” you placed the finished cup of coffee in the sink, as you begrudgingly asked. “nope, so chop chop, get to it.”

how fucking annoying. truly, you wish one day your target could be your boss. but some things can only be dreams..

————————————————————————

quite frankly, you knew it was going to be a bit of a pain in your ass but you didn’t realise it was going to be THIS bad of a pain in your ass.

first problem? this uni is like straight out of some petty coming of age romance film, everyone barely notices some random quiet girl in the back. no matter how cringe that sounds, you were getting badly ignored and it wasn’t helping.

second problem? your target, nishimura riki, is some bitchy fuck boy! okay, maybe that’s a little overboard, just a little. he was this overly smart, and.. kind of annoyingly hot, popular guy who is just a bit too cocky and competitive. sure, with his friends, he seemed like a pretty kind and charismatic person. but it was all still a problem for you because how the hell do you get him to talk to you, let alone glance at you!?

if this was some sappy romance, you would be fine with just staring at him from afar. but, it’s not. you actually have something to get done and your boss’ annoying ‘chop chop’ is practically ringing in your head. damn it.

also, you were pretty annoyed too due to the fact that you’re practically reliving uni life except its worse because you know absolutely nothing about this place or the people here. just silently attending classes like some loner. sigh, what has your life become?

you were about to enter your next class and god maybe someone up there took pity on you because coincidentally, there was actually a seat empty next to that japanese idiot! finally, none of his shitty friends were bombarding him. holy shit, finally, you can make at least some sort of progress.

you head over to the seat, a bit too eagerly, and sit down, trying to act as normal as you can.

oh.

oh this bastard.. he didn’t even bother to look at who sat next to him? seriously!

as you took out your books so you could at least act like a normal student, you saw one of his friends coming over, presumably to talk to riki.

“hey ni-ki, you are still up for that arcade night tomorrow, right?” his friend, whose name was maki, from what you had learned, asked riki who you just learned was also called ni-ki. okay, good, you’re already gaining some new information, no matter how useless it may be.

“oh.. well yeah, about that..” riki scratched the back of his head, groaning. “i don’t think i can. some assholes tried to target an attack on me yesterday and ever since then, my uncle has been hell bent on getting me some bodyguard.”

oh my god. you could barely contain your reaction. first of all, pretty sad that his next assassin is sitting right next to him. next of all, a bodyguard??? this could either become really bad or really good for you, depending on how you act. but right now, there were already ideas brewing in your mind how you could use this to your advantage.

maki scoffed, looking at him with amusement “a bodyguard? you’re kidding?? damn, guess you’re a hotshot now, huh? leaving us peasants behind.” he replied while letting out some dramatic gasp, taking the other seat next to him. “still, did those attackers hurt you? are you okay?” riki nodded, also taking out his books as the professor walked in, replying “yeah, i’m fine.. well as fine as someone whose about to get all their privacy taken by some stupid bodyguard can be-!” in response, maki just laughed as he just made fun of his pathetic fate while advising him to convince the bodyguard to let him come.

after that, you didn’t really bother to care about their conversation and just blocked it out as it was irrelevant, and instead started thinking about the next course of action you could take. you took out your phone to shoot a message to your boss about your plan, to which you quickly received a thumbs up with her letting you know she would handle it. finally, you actually made some progress! you could definitely treat yourself to some good food for this.

————————————————————————

and handle it, she did. your boss sent you a message not long after, which you saw after class. she sent you some messages with information.

first of all, riki’s uncle was apparently consulting his close friends to get a good bodyguard, however she got to know that..

and secondly, she has connections with one of his close friends and managed to get them to vouch for you as bodyguard, so hopefully, mr riki’s uncle would agree and your plan would go smoothly!

all that’s left now is for your boss to give you the green light that you were appointed and then you could finally do your work. thank god that atleast now you don’t have to somehow flirt with this man. his cocky attitude would make it feel like you’re flirting with some full of himself guy from my university days.

————————————————————————

after a few days, you got the message that you were finally appointed as his bodyguard, after she pulled some strings here and there. you met the uncle who honestly seemed like a really chill guy for someone who is like.. a major target for like.. everyone in the political field.

you got a room next to riki’s in their abnormally large house so that you could be next to him at all times. obviously, you knew riki wasn’t actually going to accept it without any resistance, especially if his conversation with maki from a few days ago was anything to go off of. you just didn’t think he was going to be this mad..

“stay 10 feet away from me.”

“you aren’t coming into the restaurant. i don’t fucking care, if you want, tell my uncle.”

“can you please quit? if you don’t do it yourself i’ll say you were trying to harass me or something.”

“cry to my uncle about it, i am not letting you come”

that’s all you heard in your first few weeks! this goddamn asshole was extremely mad about having a bodyguard and he kept making my job difficult, so difficult that his uncle had to literally call me and ask me if i’m even doing my job! fucking hell.

for instance, the arcade night was a literal nightmare.

you followed riki down to the car that had come to pick him up, presumably with his friends.

you were about to open the door for him when he glared at you before getting in and immediately slamming the car door shut. what the fuck!? I could have lost my hand there! you tried your best to control yourself from lashing out at him and went to open the door, only for him to lock it immediately.

“excuse me?” you mouthed as you looked at riki questioningly. the windows of the car rolled down as riki put on of his arms on the sill, leaning back smugly. “what? pfft, you really thought you were going to come in the same car as me? how cute.” he scoffed before continuing, “get your own car. or maybe get the drivers to drive you there. orr…., better yet, leave my ass alone and have a life. thanks!” he waved you goodbye, smirking annoyingly before immediately having his friend drive off, not even letting you respond.

wait- he didn’t even tell you the address!? fuck!

you stood there dumbfounded, trying to figure out what to do. that fucker did that on purpose, didn’t he? you groaned, plopping down on the bench in the garden, figuring out how to tell his uncle that his beloved nephew abandoned his bodyguard.

and that was only one instance of a million, that occurred in that nightmarish week.

and quite frankly, it was a million too many. you had enough.

it was saturday night and riki was cooped up in his room, probably playing some shitty game. you were bored out of your mind but you couldn’t go anywhere as long as riki was in his room. you sighed before making a decision.

you were planning to talk to him about his annoying behaviour and thought, why not now? it’s time you disturb him a little too.

you walked out of your guest room and knocked on the door to his room.

no response. you knock again, twice this time.

no response, again. you knock once again, this time more aggressively.

seriously? i know he’s in there, is he actually ignoring me!? you groan before opening the door, sick of waiting for him to respond. and of course, he was playing video games. and almost as if to mock you, he put his headphones back on, showing you that he had his headphones off and indeed, could hear perfectly that you were knocking.

you walked over to his console before removing the plug. you play games yourself and you know very well how annoying it is to disconnect mid game. deserved!

as soon as the game turned off, you looked at riki.

“what the fuck was that for?” he practically shot daggers at you, placing down the controller and placing his attention on you.

“at least i have your attention now, no?” you smiled, leaning on the window in his room.

“could have just told me you were desperate for my attention, a bit dramatic, no?” he smirked, imitating your tone and wording the desperate in a tone that seemed a bit too.. inappropriate.. for the current situation.

“yup, that’s exactly what i would have done if you actually cared to look at me.” you paused before continuing, “anyways, i came to talk to you about the way you’re acting.”

“oh? what? you ‘gonna lecture me on how i am being unreasonable?” he said before scoffing. “yes, actually! you are being unreasonable! i am merely doing my job so can you not keep getting me in trouble? if you hate this so much, go talk to your uncle, not take it out on me!”

he stilled, almost as if he was listening to you intently, before chuckling. fucking chuckling at what you said. “seems you aren’t all that you portrayed yourself as when i saw you here, huh?” he said, grinning at you. you looked at him, confused at what he meant. “actually, i don’t hate this as much as you think. don’t get me wrong, i still do hate that i have no privacy but i was doing all that just to see you react.” he paused before continuing, “i mean, when i first saw you, it annoyed me that my father thought someone whose the same age as me somehow can protect me better than i can. i felt like annoying you to see how you’d react.” he confessed as if he was just telling you some gossip. he was kidding, right? just getting a reaction, my ass! he almost got me fucking fired like 7 times last week!

“are you fucking kidding me? is this some romantic story to you, a challenge to get me to react? seriously..” you sighed exasperatedly, and practically glaring at him. “what? is it so wrong of me to have some fun? it just amused me to see you acting all high and mighty when you’re my age.” okay, sure, maybe you were acting a little bossy because you found it funny that someone so cocky and popular at university was getting protected by you but- wait.. did he say ‘his age’!? how does he even know that?! “how do you know i’m your age? I don’t remember telling you my age, unless your uncle told you it..” you reply, confused.

he looked at you, almost looking puzzled at your question. “what? i thought you were just ignoring it but i think you actually didn’t realise.. you do know we are in the same university, right?” oh right, you had completely forgotten you had that whole university thing before. wait, but even then, did he actually notice you? damn.. “right, but i thought you didn’t know i existed.” you laughed sarcastically, looking at him.

you both talked to each other, surprisingly without him trying to piss you off every second and you having to clench your fists from anger. he was just a normal university student with a bit of a crazy home life and well.. extremely hot, if you haven’t mentioned it already. honestly, you don’t ever talk to the people you’re targeting like this so it was definitely something new. it made you see him as someone more.. life like? which is quite weird since you are technically about to take that very life out of him soon.

damn.

————————————————————————

riki.

nishimura fucking riki.

you don’t know what it was about him but damn did every single moment spent with him make you feel so weirdly happy.

at first, it was just nice to hangout with someone normally after years of having your only interaction with people being your colleagues or the people you were going to kill.

then, for some reason, he started spending almost all of his free time at home which just meant he was with me most of the time. as if conversing with him occasionally wasn’t already making you question your professionalism, now he’s spending all his time with you. normally, he would go out, hangout with friends and just do something away from me. and now? complete switch.

and on top of that, it was annoying you because it felt like a constant reminder that, ‘hey look, you have all the time and opportunities to kill him spotlessly and you. aren’t. doing. it. just admit, he makes you feel giddy.’ and you didn’t like that.

you had so many opportunities to just end this whole thing, easily get rid of your traces, but no. every time you would pick up that gun in your pocket, you would just end up putting it right back where it belongs. every. single. time.

sometimes, he would catch you in the act because of how your brain was practically short circuiting and you wouldn’t even realise that the gun was still in your hand. you wouldn’t even realise it and he would look at you, confused

“just what exactly were you planning to do with that?”

you made an excuse once, but you kept doing the same damn thing. maybe a part of you wanted him to see, be mad at you so maybe you could just finish the job quick. this was torture.

but then, you started to realise how suspicious he was being. not just once, not even twice but instead thrice! he caught you thrice, holding that gun, looking incredibly suspicious. hell one time you almost had it even pointed at him.

anyone would find it suspicious and at least confront you about it, if not directly get you removed! it almost felt like he knew, and was instead playing along. goddamn it.

and of course, he wasn’t stupid. he did notice. he saw all those times you looked like you were about to do something. he would be a fool if he didn’t find your behaviour at least a little suspicious. like how you became his bodyguard right after you conveniently overheard him talking about how his uncle was looking for a bodyguard for him.

like how you act like he doesn’t have a million targets on his back.

like how you were conveniently almost always in the same classes as him.

like how he would catch you trying to avoid him when he talked to you.

like how he would catch you holding a gun conveniently when he had his back to you.

like how he would catch that look of guilt, in your eyes.

he wasn’t stupid. in fact, far from it.

he knew and you kept confirming his suspicions.

the voices in my head screaming ‘run now’, im praying that their human

————————————————————————

and as if the universe was mocking you or maybe telling you to hurry up with it, his uncle actually goes on a business trip abroad from which he won’t be back for at least 2 weeks. great.

well, technically, it should be great, you should be ecstatic that you practically hit jackpot with this opportunity. especially with the constant messages of your boss telling you to hurry up becoming background music in your mission.

you should be happy but of course, you aren’t. you aren’t because you know you had just as many opportunities before and wasted them.

but you had made up your mind.

whatever you were doing, have been doing and might do if you don’t put an end to this is stupid.

and you are going to put and end to it today no matter what.

after ni-ki came back from uni, you spent some time on your laptop and with him, switching between the two and still never being able to pull out your gun.

finally, it was evening and ni-ki had said that he would make dinner for us, wanting you to try his cooking.

you made your way to the kitchen, finding him standing there.

“how’s it going?” you asked as you came up next to him, taking a spoon and trying some of the garnish he had made for the food. “mm.. tastes pretty good, honestly didn’t think you had it in you.” you chuckled as you looked up at him.

his breath hitched at the sound you made before clearing his throat, “impressed?” he said as he walked over to grab some dishes. “sure am.” you replied in the affirmative, watching him intently.

he came back and stood over you, reaching for something behind you. you were just about to move away when he placed a hand on the side, blocking you.

shit, he was close.

too close.

this whole time leading up to this, the sexual tension between you two was so thick it could be cut with a knife. so, you actually feeling something for him wasn’t the only thing distracting you.

you could practically hear his heartbeat due to how close he was.

and you could tell he knew, as he took his sweet time grabbing whatever the fuck he was grabbing behind you.

finally, he moved away, allowing you to let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

fucking hell! it was driving you insane that he kept doing this and breaking down the resolve you would slowly build up. before, you would at least pick up the gun but now? you could barely do even that.

you had enough. just as ni-ki turned around to focus on something in the bowl, you walked over to one of the knives on the counter, swiping it clean and sliding it on your finger. this wasn’t sharp enough.

then, you turned around and spotted the knife next to ni-ki, which looked extremely new and sharp. that could definitely work.

if you weren’t picking up the gun, you’ll just have to take the knife.

you slowly walked over, keeping an eye on whether he was continuing what he was doing or getting ready to turn around.

just as you were about to grab the knife, ni-ki turns around immediately and grabs your wrist, and yanks it away along with the knife.

and even then, instead of pushing you away, he only brings you closer.

fuck.

“honestly, if i didn’t already have my eyes on you, i wouldn’t have noticed you sneaking up on me at all. you’re honestly more skilled than i thought.” ni-ki said, looking down at you with that unexplainable look in his eyes, caressing your wrist with his fingers, sending shivers down your spine.

why you pointing at me with that knife?

“hah- so you did know?” you groaned. you were annoyed that he caught you but for now, you have to think about how to turn this around.

“god, how stupid do you think i am, huh? i can even tell right now that pretty little head of yours is fucking thinking of some way to turn this around, no?” he smiled, slowly inching the knife you were holding closer to himself.

“what the fuck are you doing?!” you spat, unconsciously trying to pull your hand away as if you weren’t planning to do exactly what he was right now. “thought i could make your work easier, no?” he replied, looking down at you with that same mocking he had in his tone.

“so you were just playing with me, huh? if you already knew my true intentions, why didn’t you do anything, hm?” you looked up at him, gripping the knife just a little bit tighter.

“i suppose i was just confident in my own skills being better than yours.” he replied, flicking out his tongue to wet his lips, looking directly into your eyes while doing so, making you almost drop the knife. “better than mine? tch, really? you should know i trained for this shit.” you replied, amused that some random untrained college student, no matter how tall or well built, actually thought he was better than a trained assassin.

“so did i, glad we have that in common.” he looked at you, sarcastically making it sound like some moment of getting to know each other. “honestly, as someone who worked in your field too, it’s pathetic seeing you act like this.”

“what.. are you saying?” what did he even mean, working in my field!? his words were barely registering in your brain. you tried to pull out of his grip but it seemed to only make it tighter, definitely leaving a mark there.

“god you still don’t get it, do you?” he smiled before continuing, “do you know how my parents died? because i don’t.” he scoffed. “my parents died in what the world deemed as an ‘unfortunate car accident’ but i knew better than to believe that.”

“i knew there was no way that was all there was to it. fortunately enough for me, my parents being in the same field you are, i naturally got pulled into it. but it worked in favour for me, i could use it to my advantage and find out the truth.” he leaned back a little before continuing, “and i tried. but my uncle found out after he came back to japan and was furious. ultimately, he pulled me out of that shithole and forced me to live my life normally as a student, at least for a bit. and well, here i am.”

and as if he didn’t just drop a bomb on me, he lazily smiled at you as if he just recited some joke. “uh.. what? i mean, thanks for the story?” you replied, unable to process. this must be a plot for something, assassin attempts to kill an assassin!? what the hell was happening..! “wait no, so you’re telling me that you- seriously?” you looked up at him shocked, unable to believe or understand him.

“honestly, it’s not as shocking as you’re making it seem. i mean, all i said was we have another thing in common.” he grinned. “anyways, you do know that i left your hand free for the past 5 minutes, right? you could have easily stabbed me” ni-ki spoke and as if to emphasise what he said, he grabbed my wrist once again. “or maybe.. you don’t even want to, hm? just admit you can’t.”

“and, so what if i can’t? it’s not like you’re pushing me back anyway, hm?” you retorted, looking right back at him.

“maybe i don’t want to push you away. maybe the real reason i didn’t run was because i liked what we had. even if what we had was this.” he said, bringing the knife closer again, emphasising what he meant.

“god when you say things like that..” you paused while getting closer and holding the knife to his heart, “i feel like stabbing this knife right into your heart.”

“go ahead. it’s yours anyways.”

you pulled away the knife before looking up at him, his words doing nothing to help the beating of your heart. you grip the knife in your hands before running your hands through your hair.

“careful or you’ll lose it”

“but girl, im only human”

as you run your fingers along the edge of the knife, ni-ki pushes your wrist to the side before pulling you in and crashing his lips on yours. your fingers rush to grab onto his shirt, stunned from the shock of his sudden action, before reciprocating the kiss with just as much eagerness.

the knife was long out of your hand and instead on the kitchen counter as ni-ki backed you up against the kitchen island, not breaking the kiss.

the kiss was like a silent plea between you two, a confession unspoken about the feelings between you two. a plea to put the differences behind.

his lips were warm against yours, moving against yours in a slow to gradually fast rhythm, getting more needy, rough and messy as time went. ni-ki’s hand rested on the small of your back, pulling you in even closer as his breath hitched due to your hands finding home in his hair.

you tried to pull away due to the loss of breath but it was useless as he only pushed you on top of the island before caging you with his arms on your sides.

finally, he pulled away, taking deep breaths as you both looked at each other. without wasting another second, ni-ki leaned in to kiss you but instead of doing so, he bit your bottom lip causing you to let out a gasp of his name, gripping his shirt that you wanted off, oh so desperately.

he hummed as if acknowledging your gasp before swiping his tongue over your bottom lip over the beads of blood that accumulated. “god, look at you fucking saying my name so prettily, hm? tell me..” he paused before pulling away to rest his head in the nape of your neck, “..do you fucking enjoy being reduced to a mess by me like this?”

you open your mouth to respond only to let out a sharp cry at the sensation of ni-ki’s teeth sinking into the skin on your neck. “fuck ni-ki- ngh-!” all you can do is gasp out in response to his degrading words, wrapping your legs around his waist, tugging on his hair.

only after licking and marking that spot did he pull away, grinning at the mark on your neck. “guess im the one who made a mark on your neck instead, hm? instead of you,” he wrapped his fingers around your neck before continuing “slitting my throat open like how you badly wanted to, right?” he let out a breathy laugh before squeezing your neck, blocking your passage of air making you throw your hand back and having your hands wrap around his wrist in a silent plea.

finally, ni-ki let go before tugging on your shirt, looking into your eyes for permission. you nodded shakily, still shocked from his earlier actions, letting him pull off your shirt that seemed to practically be burning your skin because of how hot it felt in the room.

as soon as the shirt was off, ni-ki leaned in, placing soft, wet kisses down your cleavage before reaching behind you to unclip your bra with ease, causing it to fall off your body, letting it be long forgotten.

he wasted no time before wrapping his lips around your nipples, eagerly sucking and biting on the flesh, causing you to arch your back, grinding against his crotch.

he groaned against your body, reaching to grab your hair without pulling away, pulling it back causing you to throw your head back, your hands rushing to support yourself on the counter.

he used his other hand to fondle your other breast, rolling the bud between his fingers. he pulled away after a bit, only to switch to the other breast.

he finally let go of the flesh, looking at the wet mess he had made. “god, look at you arching like that.. fucking whore..” his words a direct contrast to the way he was smirking at you.

“ni-ki, stop fucking teasing me-“ before you could complete your sentence, ni-ki used the opportunity to slip his fingers inside, gagging you with them as he scoffed. “really? is that the attitude you’re going to give me? acting like a brat as if you weren’t whimpering like a bitch in heat at just me sucking on your neck?” he pushed his fingers deeper inside, making you choke on it, your spit dripping down. “if you truly want it so bad, beg for it. show me just how damn pathetic you actually are.” and as if motioning for you to do so, he pulled out his fingers that were wet with your spit, making you almost embarrassed with how pathetic it made you look.

“just what makes you think i’d do that?” you replied, smirking. it’s not that you wouldn’t, you were ready to get on your knees at this point but, you wanted to see how far you could actually push him. “think? oh baby, i know you will.” ni-ki replied, the nickname making your cheeks red at the way your heart fluttered at the contrasting sweetness of it. he immediately leaned back in, leaving wet kisses down from your cleavage to your stomach before finding home between your thighs, pulling down the pants you were wearing.

“god, you act all high and mighty only to be drenched like a whore.” he hummed as he said those dirty words, rubbing his finger along your clothed cunt. you wish he was joking but you knew that you were practically dripping for him, the effect he had on you was making your head dizzy.

and ni-ki? he didn’t have any better of a condition. in fact it was probably worse. his cock was throbbing with need at the sight between your legs, wanting nothing more than to just rip those stupid panties off and make your writhe against him. it was painful but he wasn’t going to let go until you did. he would make sure you would eat your words.

he slowly pulled on the strap of your panties before letting it go, making it slap against your skin, the sensation making you let out a whine. your hands reached down to grab his hair, trying to signal that you wanted him to quit teasing. “words baby, i am gonna’ need you to use that pretty mouth of yours, yeah?” he spoke in response to your action, the vibrations of his voice making you arch your back. “fuck ni-ki, please-!” you spoke, your hips thrusting up in a desperate plea for him. “im sorry please just- ‘need you so bad-“ you cried out, not caring anymore about your pride and just babbling out pleas, begging pathetically.

“there you go, that’s what i wanted to hear.” he grinned before practically ripping your panties apart, shoving one of his digits inside causing a moan to escape your mouth. he barely waited before slipping out his finger and replacing it with his tongue, eagerly lapping up your juices.

you gripped his hair tight, pulling him deeper causing him to groan. he continued his ministrations before adding his fingers once again, finding that plush spot that practically made you see stars. you didn’t even bother to control your moans, silently thanking his uncle again for being on a 2 week trip, but this time, for a much different reason.

you let out a whimper of his name, trying to speak but only letting out ineligible slurs. “gh- ni-ki! ‘m close, hah-“ you arched your back even more, rolling your eyes back, moaning out. “please-“

rollin’, rollin’, rolling back your eyes through your mind like

ni-ki only gripped your thighs tighter, pulling them around him, and inserting another finger, using his thumb to draw numbers ‘eights’ on your clit, urging you, making your thighs shake as your body chased your high.

you let out a broken whimper as you finally let go, your high crashing down on you as you released all over his fingers and face, shaking. but instead of pulling away, ni-ki only continued to fuck your cunt with his tongue, not bothering to slow down. “w-wait ni-ki- slow down, i can’t-!” you cried out, trying to push him away but only pushing your hips further into his face, the pleasure becoming overwhelming.

he finally pulled away, looking up at you as he licked one of his fingers clean, looking right into your eyes, a smirk on his face. “god you have such a pretty cunt, hm? all for me too.” he said, slapping the flesh causing you to let out a silent scream, as if he was confirming his words. he pushed one of his fingers back in, finger fucking your cunt even though you were already shaking.

“s’too much- fuck ni-ki no more-“ “fuck stop running your mouth for once, huh? you can take it.” he interrupted your pleas, shoving his finger deeper and massaging that spot, making you reach your high once again. you cried out once again, your cunt spasming around his finger and creaming.

“there you go, i knew you could do it.” ni-ki said before licking his fingers clean once again, grinning at you. “god, never thought you could be such a whore. all i need is one finger to ruin you like this?” he got up and slammed his lips on yours, wanting you to taste yourself.

you moaned into the kiss, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him in. you break the kiss and tug on his shirt, telling him to remove it.

thankfully, he didn’t say much before letting you pull it off, only to pull you in and kiss you once again.

you pushed against him and use the opportunity to turn him around against the island, getting on your knees. ni-ki ran his hands through his hair, breathing heavily as he looked down at you, observing you.

you unzipped his pants, before wrapping your hands around his cock, slowly running them up and down, causing him to groan and grip your hair.

“fuck, quit it-“ ni-ki moaned out, tightening his grip and pushing you towards him. and you did listen as you opened your mouth and took him inside your mouth, practically gagging due to his length.

ni-ki let go momentarily to grip the counter before grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing you in, using your mouth for his pleasure. “that’s it- god, your mouth- feels so good..” he threw his head back, face-fucking you.

but, this only continued for so long before ni-ki forcefully pulled you away, bringing you up. “turn around.” you were confused at his action but decided on just doing as he said, turning around. you see him grab his discarded shirt from earlier and place it down on the counter, before pushing your face down onto the shirt, making sure you didn’t get hurt. if you could, you would have teased him about how he made sure you would be comfortable but quite frankly, you weren’t in a position to do, literally and figuratively.

just as you were distracted, you felt a cold sensation on your back, making you involuntarily arch your back. ni-ki leaned in close to your ear to whisper, “can you guess what this is, hm?” while slowly dragging the cold metal like object down your back. “let me answer for you. i bet that pretty head of yours is too fucked out to let out a coherent answer.” honestly, he wasn’t wrong, you could barely think, let alone play a game of guessing.

“it’s the same knife,” he pressed the object, which you now know is a knife, into the small of your back as if proving his words, causing you to yelp due to the sharp sting, “ ,you tried to oh, so cruelly end my life with. does it strike a chord?” you whimpered into his shirt, the scent of his perfume short circuiting your sense. it wasn’t just a painful sting but instead it definitely bordered between pain and pleasure, the lines barely existing. and the reality of his words only made the sensation, weirdly enough, better. yeah, you were going insane and it was all this damned nishimura’s fault.

you felt him slowly drag the knife down your back, only teasing the sharp edge along your skin. once he got to the back of your thighs, he softly dragged the sharp side of the knife, drawing something that you were honestly to fucked out to figure out. the knife wasn’t digging into your skin and only just scratching it, which caused a slight burning pain, still ignorable nonetheless and made you whine into the shirt.

ni-ki let out a chuckle at your sound, his self control barely hanging on by a thread as he pulled away the knife and placed it away from you, not wanting you to get hurt badly later on.

“you look so fucking pathetic right now..” leaned over you, grabbing the belt from the front before dragging it down your back, “god, the things i want to do to you..” he groaned, almost annoyed at how insane you were making him feel. you moaned out in response, pushing your hips back, wanting him to quit teasing you. he pulled away the belt only to roughly strike it on the plush of your ass, making you gasp and grip the counter.

as soon as he did that, you heard him pull away only to roughly grab your wrist, securing them behind your back with the belt, tying them. just as you were about to let out a sound of protest, you felt his cock prod at your entrance, causing you to instinctively push your thighs together but getting blocked by ni-ki’s hand.

he held your thighs apart before roughly slamming in, not giving you a warning making you let out a sharp cry of his name.

“ni-ki-! fuck-!” you cried out, fighting against the restraints your hands were bound in. eventually you resorted to digging your fingers into you palm, using it as some sort of way to ground yourself to reality. ni-ki barely slowed down before picking up a relentless pace, pushing his cock deep into you before pulling out completely, only to slam himself back again.

you heard him groan and dig his fingers into your hips as you pushed your hips up, doing your best to meet his thrusts even though you barely could due to how fast he was going. you were surely going to have bruises everywhere, tomorrow.

“take it, so fucking.. gh- pretty for me-“ you could tell ni-ki had lost all of the control he had earlier too due to the way he was groaning and letting out slurs of praises and degradation. “my pretty slut, right?” he snapped his hips up to emphasise every word he said. “my. pretty. fucktoy. all fucking mine-“

“hah- ni-ki! yours, yours, please-! slow down-“ you could barely register how loud you were but also you couldn’t care less, just letting out sobs of his name as he continued ramming his cock into your cunt.

he slowed down just a little before pulling out and turning you around. “fuck, you’re being too loud. do you really want all the guards outside to find out how much of a dumb cockslut you are, huh?” he smirked at you before grabbing the panties you were wearing, that was now soaked in your release and wetness, and shoved it into your mouth. you let out a sound of surprise but as quickly as it came, it was replaced by ni-ki slamming back into you, this time pushing one of your legs onto your chest and the other on his shoulder, the new spot causing you to practically black out as he thrusted into you.

all that could be heard from you were pathetic whimpers that were muffled against your panties, a constant reminder of his effect on you. and shit, the sight? it was sending ni-ki into overdrive, taking everything inside him to control himself from releasing then and there. and it didn’t help that your cunt was gripping him like a vice.

you arch your back as you reach your high, shaking as you released on his cock. you cried out, tears clouding your vision.

“that’s it baby- cream on my cock like that.” he groaned, throwing his head back and letting out quiet, guttural moans. “shit im close- where do you want me to-“ you quickly interrupt him by pushing your hips up, despite being insanely tired to do so, to signal that you wanted him to finish inside you.

you felt him twitch at your action, before one of his hands come up to wrap around your throat, shoving you deeper into the counter. he was already going insane every time he looked at you, which was practically all the time since his eyes were always on you, due to how fucking cute you looked, so much smaller compared to him. and now you want him to fill you up? “fuck, yeah? you want me to fill this pretty pussy up? fucking breed you and make you all fucking mine, hm?” you sob out his name, nodding to agree as his words made it all the more pleasurable, shaking from the overstimulation.

you feel your release nearing once again causing you to moan out his name again “gh- ni-ki!”, unable to even wrap your mind around how you were already this close again. ni-ki’s moans increased in sound before he finally slammed into you one last time, filling you up with his release, you following right after. he slowly stilled, still thrusting into you and riding out both of your releases before finally stopping.

the room was filled with the smell of sex and your deep breaths joining together. you wrapped your hands around his neck to pull ni-ki in, and he obliged, slowly placing his lips on yours, a stark contrast to the atmosphere just a few seconds ago.

and all you two could think about was,

‘well, damn. that was the best mistake you both had made in your lives’

————————————————————————

note: damn this lowkey brain vomit filth do forgive me if this is bad i was losing it towards the end and i suck at smut AND i didnt cross check this

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Private Session

Part one, Part Two , Part Three

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases.

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe does coke), Rafe's an ass, choking, p in v, unprotected sex, bondage, language, slight degradation, slight praise, oral (both m and f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. UGH I need him so bad. But anyways, this fic is NOT fully proofread for errors, and I was a little fried while writing this and it's literally almost 3 am right now, but I wanted to get this posted. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!

I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!

Credits: GIF from this post

You don’t hate your job, but it’s definitely not the most respected profession out there. You can’t really hate the one thing that makes you money, pretty damn good money too. What can you say, you’re good at your job. You do however hate the assholes who come in nearly every night just to get on your nerves, well more like asshole. 

Rafe Cameron loves to come in and watch you. He’ll stare for hours, just admiring you. Sometimes he’s with a few other guys from figure eight, but usually comes in alone. Honestly it’s when he comes in alone that he’s really bad. Since he can direct all his focus on you shamelessly. Rafe’s especially awnry when Barry, your boss, comes to hang out with him. Your boss is normally quite fair when it comes to his dancers; always making sure they’re not being mistreated by customers. But Rafe? Rafe has a free pass to do whatever the hell he wants to whoever. And unluckily for you, you seem to be the only one of Barry’s girls that he’s interested in. He never does so much as look at any of the other dancers when you’re around, he only cares about you. You thought it was flattering at first, but now it’s just weird.

When you see him come in tonight you sigh, still keeping up your performance on stage. God, it’s definitely going to be a long night. You’ve already had enough crap for the day, now for Rafe Cameron to waltz into the club when you’re only halfway through your shift, this is just great. God must really have it out for you.

Rafe hadn’t known you were working tonight, so he’s pleasantly surprised when he sees you on your stage as he walks to the back room to find Barry. Once he disappears into the back room with Barry, you forget about him and continue on with your routine per usual. 

A while later, you see Rafe finally emerging from the back room, making his way back through the crowd of horny, drunk men and topless women. You see him shove a small bag into his pocket as he walks into view. His demeanor is different now; even cockier than before, if that’s possible. And his eyes are bloodshot, pupils extremely dilated. 

Just keep walking. You think to yourself as you collect bills from your stage floor. Just keep walking.

But of course, Rafe stops near the front end of your stage, taking a seat. He gets comfortable, slouching back in his chair, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed over his chest as he stares up at you.

You try not to let your annoyance show as you continue dancing. Rafe watches you silently; occasionally tossing $1’s and $5’s onto the stage; only sticking to the small bills for now. Not because he’s cheap, but because he likes to take his time; build it up over time. He only throws a few at a time, so he can watch you bend over and pick up the cash however many times he wants.

You lean down to pick up the newest bills he just tossed down for you. You look at him, flashing him a flirty smile as you do with all paying customers. He shoves his wallet back into his jeans and looks up, making eye contact with you. He flashes a smirk that’s almost…charming? But, you know better than to fall for that. No matter how pretty he is, you know better.

A bit later, you take a short break from the pole to make your rounds around the club and see if you have any customers interested in your services. You hate it when it’s busy. Well, stripper you loves it when it’s busy because it means more money. But you, you hate the loud crowds of drunken perverts and frat boys; you felt so exposed. Which, you should because you’re hardly wearing anything. But, you just feel too vulnerable. You liked the calmer nights when the crowd was smaller; you feel more in control that way. And fuck is it packed tonight. You can barely move through the people, and you can hardly hear anything besides the loud music and obnoxious cat calls. This is why you don’t usually work on saturday nights; you’re just doing one of the other girls a favor and covering her shift. 

Accidentally, you bump your shoulder into somebody while on your way back to the stage. You don’t think anything of it and just keep walking until you feel a hand on your wrist. Immediately you turn back, pulling your wrist away. You’re not surprised to find that it was Rafe you had bumped into you. 

“Hey, y’think I can get a private show?” He asks, his emotions unclear as he steps closer so he can hear you. 

“Sorry sir, no rooms are available.” You say with a sensual laugh and a bright smile, no matter how badly you want to just roll your eyes and walk away. But you can’t. You must remain professional. Rafe bites his lip, taking yet another step closer. He leans in to whisper into your ear. 

“That’s not what I mean.” He keeps his mouth next to your ear.” You can hear his breathing as you think of a response. 

“Can’t, sorry. I don’t do that, I’m not a fucking hooker.” You bite back, beginning to walk away again.

But Rafe quickly retorts, “doesn’t matter, both mean you’re just a fucking slut. Fuckin’ whore.” He spits. He tries to grab your wrist again and fails, grabbing your hand instead. He lets out a jagged breath, tugging you closer. “Come on. I’ll give you one thousand for two hours.” You’re shocked at his generosity, but like you said, you’re not a hooker. You don’t sell that part of you. Especially not to this asshole. 

You don’t get the chance to respond before Barry is walking over to the two of you. “There a problem?” You sigh a breath of relief when Rafe drops your hand. But when you look at Barry, you realize he’s not asking you.

“Yeah, this fuckin’ bitch don’t know how to listen.” Rafe gestures to you.

Barry nods, taking in Rafe’s words. He steps over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and leading you a few steps away to talk to you. “What's he want?” Your boss asks, trying to gauge the situation. It doesn’t help that he’s also been doing some lines in the back room.

“He wants to take me home. I told him I’m not a hooker.” You explain, hoping he’ll side with you.

“Well maybe for tonight you are. You know why that is, sweetheart?”

You look down as you speak. “‘Cause we listen to what Mr. Cameron says.” You recite his rule. 

“One night, just go with him. I bet he’ll pay big.” Barry pleads, not really giving you much option. 

You argue, “Yeah, and you’re just gonna take 50%.” 

“How ‘bout this. You listenin’?” You nod, looking up at him as he speaks. “You do this, you get to keep 75%.”

You think for a moment before responding. “Seventy-five percent of all my earnings.” You demand, causing Barry to chuckle. 

Barry knows you’re stubborn, and he knows he can’t legally force you to go with Rafe. So hesitantly, he gives in and accepts your deal. “Fine, fine ‘aight, seventy-five percent of everything you make.” 

You reach out to shake his hand. He holds onto it for a moment longer than is necessary, looking into your eyes, smiling a grimy smile; his gold tooth shining as the low club lighting hits it just right. “Now go get to fuckin’”, he laughs, letting go of your hand. You roll your eyes and as you turn your back to him he gives you a slight nudge back towards Rafe’s direction. 

Re-approaching Rafe, you compose yourself. “One thousand for one hour.” You negotiate, your expression making it clear that you won’t be taking no for an answer. You know he has the money, and he’s clearly willing to spend it on you.

Rafe takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, attempting to contain his amused smile. “That wasn’t the deal.” He takes a step towards you. Your demanding expression doesn’t falter as you continue to stare at him silently. He huffs out a chuckle, nodding his head and licking his bottom lip. “Okay, fine. One thousand for one hour of your time. But, anything that goes over an hour is free. And trust me, you’re gonna be begging for more.” 

“Right, sure I will.” You say sarcastically.

Rafe ignores your words. “So do we have a deal?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Deal.”

Rafe wastes no time in taking your hand, leading you to the back room. You pass by the private rooms, seeing that one had opened up. You stop walking, making Rafe look back at you with a confused expression, waiting for your reason.

“There’s a room open…” You speak, looking over at the open door.

“I already told you, not here. That’s not what I’m paying for.” Rafe turns, pulling you behind him. He leads you into the back room, waiting for you to get your stuff from your locker. You slip some clothes over your lingerie, not wanting to go outside nearly naked. After grabbing your bag, you follow Rafe out the back door and to his truck. 

His demeanor seems to be more neutral now, rather than being plain mean. Nervously on the drive over to figure eight, you spew out words. “I don’t usually do this.” You say, looking over at Rafe. Rafe doesn’t bother looking at you, he just stares straight out at the road in front of him. You can tell he doesn’t believe you. “Really. I never go home with random guys like this. I never even have se–”. You cut yourself off, already having spilt too much. You curse yourself. 

When you’re working, you can keep a strong, dominant attitude and be more confident because it’s all just a part of your character. You can be anyone on stage, you don’t have to be yourself. But as soon as you’re outside of the club, you’re just an anxious fucking mess. Which probably has to do with why you hardly have a sex life. 

Rafe looks over to you, occasionally glancing back out at the road. His expression almost makes it seem like he’s actually listening to you; like he cares. You shake that thought out of your head and try to remind yourself that he doesn’t care about what you’re saying, he’s just paying you for sex. 

“Wait, so you’re saying that you’re a stripper and a virgin?” He asks, his eyes narrow with confusion, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You laugh. “No! I never said I was a virgin.” You explain.

Rafe smiles when he hears you laugh, not being able to keep his eyes off of your beautiful smile. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you laugh before. A real laugh, not the fake, flirty ones you flash to the guys at the club while working. It’s one of the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard.

“So, what then?” He genuinely asks. You’re shocked with the amount of effort he seems to be putting into this conversation, you never took him for much of a talker. 

“I don’t know…I just don’t get many chances I guess.” You say honestly, unsure why you’re sharing this with him of all people. You hate him.

“Bullshit.” Adds Rafe. “You’re a stripper.”

“Okay yeah, I’m a stripper, but that’s ‘cause I need the money. I don’t go home with the guys from the club, well…usually.” You pause for a moment. “...that’s just my job. Outside of the club I get to be myself…and I don’t know, it’s just different.”

“You’re afraid people won’t like who you really are?” His words take you by surprise, making your words get stuck in your throat.

You eventually manage to choke out a response. “Yeah, I…I guess so.” Rafe just nods. Not wanting to admit it, but he gets what you mean. You both sit in a comfortable silence the rest of the way to his place.

Arriving at Tanneyhill, Rafe parks the truck in his driveway and he quickly hops out, rounding the front of the truck and opening your door, allowing you to step out. He leads you up to the front door, grabbing his keys from his pocket and unlocking it, following you inside before shutting the door behind you two. 

You take a few steps down the hall, observing the room around you. Now that you’re seeing his home, you wish you tried to get even more money out of him. “C’mon”, he mumbles from behind you. Rafe grabs your duffel bag from you and walks in front of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He sets the bag on a small couch in his room, turning around to look at you. He looks you up and down, admiring your body. His skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to come. He’s finally gonna get to do all the things he’s been dying to do to you since the first time he saw you at the club.

Rafe moves to sit on the bed, patting his lap without saying another word. You know what he wants. Slowly you make your way over to him, straddling his lap so that you’re facing him; your knees on the bed on either side of his legs. For a brief moment, you both stare at each other, getting momentarily lost in one another’s eyes. 

Carefully he places his hand on your face, cupping your jaw. His movements are slow and calculated as he leans in, enveloping your lips with his own. The kiss is slow and tender, everything you weren’t expecting. 

You pull back just enough to look over at the clock on his nightstand, noting the time in your head. You breathlessly mutter to him, “your hour starts now.” You can see him staring at your lips and without warning he leans in, kissing you. This time, he’s not being so gentle. 

Things escalate quickly; clearly he doesn’t want to waste any time with you. Rafe stands up, holding you while not breaking the kiss, he turns the two of you around and lays you on your back, crawling over you. His lips leave yours as he starts to kiss and suck at your neck, eventually finding your ear. Rafe takes your ear between his teeth, gently nipping at it. The feeling of his teeth grazing your skin sends a chill throughout your body. 

He gently whispers, “I’m gonna do what I want, but you just tell me if it’s too much, alright? Let me know if you want me to stop.” He presses a soft kiss to your ear as you nod.

“Mhm.” You mumble, acknowledging his words.

“No.” He shakes his head, “Say it.”

You oblige, looking at him as you speak. “I’ll tell you to stop if I need to.”

Rafe smirks. “Good girl.” He wastes no time before his lips come crashing onto yours again; somehow even more passionately than the last. 

A soft moan escapes your lips, only making him get even rougher. He kisses you sloppily, his tongue making sure to explore every bit of your mouth. He hovers over you, one hand pressing into the mattress beside your head, holding himself up. And with his free hand, he begins to slide off your shirt. 

You try to help him get you out of your shirt by maneuvering yourself around as best you can underneath him. Once your shirt is off, very little is left to the imagination in your work top, which is just a very lacy piece of lingerie. His hand then works at the button on your shorts, once he’s got that undone he starts tugging them off of you, tossing it to his floor. Once you’re in your little work ‘outfit’, he takes a moment to admire you up close. 

He’s seen you in skimpy little things like this before, he needs to see the rest of you; all of you. He starts to try and get you out of your lingerie, but there’s too many straps and clips, he can’t get you out of it quick enough. He starts to get frustrated, pausing your kiss as he leans back trying to get a good look at what he’s working with. Rafe’s impatience gets to him and he mumbles a quick “fuck this” just before ripping the thin fabric right off of you. 

You let out an involuntary gasp, causing him to look at your face which has an annoyed expression. This was one of your new outfits for work and he just ruined it. 

He leans in and presses a soft, wet kiss to your slightly parted lips. “Calm down, I’ll pay for it.” You don’t get a change to respond before he’s pulling the damaged fabric off of you, tossing it onto the floor as well. “Fuuckk, baby.” He mutters, running his free hand down your bare skin, tracing the shape of you as he admires your bare body. “Oh my god,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. “So fucking beautiful.” His mouth finds your chest, immediately latching onto one of your nipples; he sucks at it until he eventually pulls off to give attention to your other breast. His eyes are trained up on you, watching as your head tilts back in pleasure. 

Rafe pulls his mouth off with a pop! He stands up from the bed, walking over to his dresser. He opens up the top drawer, taking something out and coming back to you. You see a bundle of rope in his hands, your eyes widen in surprise. You hadn’t expected to be into all that. He really had this planned out. Your excitement builds; the wetness between your legs growing. Rafe sees the thoughts going on in your head.

He tries to reassure you, “relax, it’s fine, m’gonna take real good care of you baby.” He instructs you to scoot up towards the headboard of his bed. Quickly and skillfully, he ties your wrists to the bed, making sure it’s not tight enough to cause pain and not loose enough for you to slip out. You’re not sure how you feel about being tied up and against your will, it definitely leaves you very vulnerable; very out of control. However, for some reason you feel like you can almost trust him. Because so far, since leaving the club, he’s been very tentative and reassuring, even gentle at times. Which is not at all what you had expected from Rafe Cameron. 

Soon, his mouth is on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. You struggle against your restraints, feeling like you need to grip onto something. Your hips try to run from him, only causing him to grab ahold of your thighs, keeping you in place. 

“F-fuuck…” You whine.

Rafe mumbles against your cunt and you can feel the vibrations in your core. As his tongue fucks you ruthlessly, you find it hard to keep quiet, a sea of moans escaping from your lips.

“Feel good, hm? You like that?” You pout at the loss of his mouth on you, causing him to chuckle before resuming his actions. His tongue circles your clit, only stopping to suck on it. The heat is building in your lower stomach, almost getting unbearable.

“Ohhh…shitshitshitshitshit” You almost scream. “Fuck! Oh fuck Rafe. Please, please don’t…don’t stop.” Rafe pulls back, “told you you’d be begging.” Your hips buck up, chasing after his mouth, missing the feeling of his tongue. But ultimately, Rafe obeys, his mouth continuing its ministations on you. He adds a finger to the mix, slowly tracing up and down your entrance as he sucks at your clit. He slides his long digit inside of you without warning, thrusting it in and out, curling it up to hit the spongy spot deep inside you. “Fuck,” You cry. “I…fuck. G-gonna cum, Rafe!” Your wrists tug against the rope; hurting just a bit, making you whimper in pain. Though you’re distracted by the feeling of your orgasm creeping in. 

Rafe hears your cry and he can tell it’s different from your other moans. His head snaps up from between your legs, making you miss his warm, wet mouth on you. He continues his earlier actions, adding a second finger in you, trying to stretch you out as much as he can; to prepare you for him. Your legs wrap around his head as the barrier in your stomach finally breaks, letting your excruciatingly good orgasm wash over you.

He slowly works you down from your high, pulling his fingers out from you, making you squeeze around nothing, your body hating the absence of him. His tongue continues to lap up all your juices. Then he begins to kiss his way back up your body. When he meets your lips, he kisses you tenderly again, letting you taste yourself on his lips. While kissing you, his hands work on freeing your wrists. He sees the red marks they had left, feeling proud yet also feeling a bit bad for causing you pain. “You did so good…” He praises.

You tug his shirt up over his head and run your hands down his toned chest, still attempting to catch your breath from earlier. Then you work at his belt, tossing it aside and pulling off his pants, also tossing them aside. Now that he’s left in just his boxers, you sit up. You get Rafe to lay down where you had been. Using the same rope to tie his wrists to the bed; though you’re not too confident in your knot-tying abilities and you’re unsure if it’ll be able to contain him. 

“W-what are you doing?” He asks almost nervously. Rafe hadn’t been expecting for you to take charge of him, usually that doesn’t happen to him. He pulls against his restraints a bit, quickly finding out the pain that comes with. 

“Shh…relax, it’s fine.” You recite to him. He smirks, recognizing his own words.

“Fuckin’ brat.” He spits, trying to seem upset, although he really just thinks it’s the hottest fucking thing ever. 

You travel down his body, straddling his legs as you start to slowly pull his boxers off of him. Rafe’s hard cock springs out, shooting up into the air. You gasp at the sight. You can see why he’s always so cocky now, it’s because he’s got the means to back it up. 

Your hands find him, gently stroking his cock. Rafe’s head tips back, his eyes shutting in pleasure for a moment. Quickly, he’s watching you again, not wanting to miss the sight of this. Slowly, you put your mouth onto him. Rafe tries to remain in control by bucking his hips up off the bed, shoving his cock deep down your throat, making you gag in response. You pull off of him for a moment and he chuckles. Knowing he has a limited time with you, you don’t wait too long before sinking your mouth back down on him. As your confidence builds, so does your pace. 

“Shiiitt baby, feels so fucking good.” He groans. Already, you can feel his dick twitching in your mouth, causing him to whine. Big, tough Rafe Cameron whining underneath you, completely at your mercy. He doesn’t seem so threatening now that you’ve seen him like this. “W-wait, wait baby, wait.” He manages, his words just spilling out. He struggles against his restraints some more before continuing. “Not yet; I don’t wanna cum yet.” You understand, pulling your mouth off of him. You move to undo his restraints, his mouth finding your tits as you lean over him to untie the rope. 

The second he’s free, you’re already somehow on your back with him on top of you. Rafe leans over you and you press open-mouthed, wet kisses all across his chest as he does so. He grabs something from his nightstand and when he pulls back you can see the small, shiny wrapper in his hand. Smart, a condom. You hadn’t even thought of that, but it was probably a good idea.

You place your hands over his, taking the condom from him. As fast as you can, you open it and reach down between you two, rolling it onto his cock until it reaches the base. He leans back down on top of you, kissing your neck and jaw. He whispers, “can I?”

You respond jokingly, “that’s what you’re paying for, isn’t it?” Rafe just stares at you, his expression showing his annoyance and frustration with you. Before he asks you to ‘say it’, you add to your previous statement. “Yes, Rafe. Fuck me.”

Rafe doesn’t need any further permission as he lines himself up with your cunt. He wishes he could feel your wetness on his skin, but he knew wearing a condom was the smart thing. Slowly, he presses in. Only entering you about two inches, letting you adjust to him before adding a few more inches. Slowly; inch by inch, Rafe enters you, eventually bottoming out. Rafe stays still for a couple moments until you give him a small nod. He moves his hips slowly, rocking in and out of you at a comfortable pace. Your hands wrap around him, hooking underneath his biceps. Your palms grip onto his back, your nails only slightly digging into his skin. His pace begins to pick up, getting loud moans and whines to come from you. 

“Mmmnn…nnhhgghh f-fuuckk, Rafe!” You cry out, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

The sight of your tear only turns him on more, in a dark and twisted way. He uses his thumb to wipe away your warm, salty tear off of your cheek. 

Despite his gentle touch, Rafe is now drilling into you without regard for your poor cunt. Shamelessly fucking you with a condom on. He looks at the sticky, white mess leaking from your perfect cunt; creating a slick film that coats his entire cock. He reaches out to grab you by your hair, forcing your neck down so that you’re looking at where you and him connect, “See that? That’s all you baby.” 

When you’re greeted with the sight of his entire length buried deep inside of you, your eyes begin to roll back as your next orgasm approaches. Rafe clicks his tongue at you, pulling entirely out of you. After a few moments without him inside of you, you immediately start to pout. A whine escapes your lips, “Rafe…”, your hips buck up, as if trying to draw his attention back to your needy cunt. 

A small, cocky grin spreads across his face at the sight. His grip tightens in your hair as he begins to tug, directing your gaze right where he wants it, on him. “You gotta fuckin’ see this, baby.” Rafe says proudly, looking back down at your messy pussy. Quickly, he thrusts back into you with force and you watch as your cunt swallows him whole. “See that? See what you do for me?” Rafe speaks in a tone that sounds as though he’s praising you, but he knows that your body has no other option than to take him. “See how fuckin’ well you take me? This pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock.” 

Rafe groans, pre-cum now leaking into the condom as his pace becomes sporadic. Still going through the aftershocks of your most recent orgasm, your cunt continues to squeeze tightly around him.

“Holy f-fuck.” Rafe stutters, his fingers moving to your clit, rubbing it in circles. His movements are getting sloppy, arithmetic as he tries to draw another orgasm from you before he finishes. “God fucking damn.” Rafe’s head tips back, you lean up to kiss his neck, occasionally nipping at it, your moans being muffled by him.  

Your third orgasm approaches, your entire body trembling as you shriek. “Rafe! Fuck, fuck, I-fuck!” Your screams become muted when he kisses you, shutting you up. Rafe’s own orgasm starts to creep in, his thrusts getting harder for a moment before he stills inside of you. You can feel his cock twitch, followed by the feeling of his hot cum as it fills the condom. He slowly moves, easing you both back down from your highs. Eventually, he pulls out of you, rolling off to the side and laying on his back beside you. 

You work on catching your breath as you turn your head to look over at the time; you have about fifteen minutes left with him. You don’t know what he has in store for you now, he’s already succeeded in making you cum three times within forty-five minutes. While he takes a moment to rest, you decide to get on top of him. You pull off his condom, tying the end of it in a knot. Without giving him any kind of warning, you put your mouth back on him, sucking his warm, sticky seed off of his dick. One of his large hands shoots up to hold the back of your head, pushing your mouth all the way down on him. You can feel his semi-hard cock already growing harder again. 

“S-shit, babe.” He groans, pulling you up, bringing your face to his and meeting you with another kiss, as if to thank you. 

You stand up, your legs shaky. You half walk, half stumble into the adjoining bathroom, tossing the condom in the trash. You make your way back to the bed, laying next to him. You turn your head to look at him. “What else can I do for you? Time’s almost up.” You ask softly. 

Rafe huffs, pissed off that you had to remind him that this isn’t real, he’s paying for this, for you. Without a word, he flips over on top of you, his hand wrapping around your throat. There’s something different about him now. His eyes; they carry a bit of darkness, his movements now rough and aggressive. He squeezes your neck lightly, making you gasp in surprise. “Rafe…”

“Shhh…you’re gonna take what I give you.” He squeezes tighter, making it harder for you to breathe, but not impossible. He leans down, kissing all over your neck and chest, leaving bites and bruises in his wake. You let out a small whine involuntarily; you can feel his touch throughout your whole body, like a jolt of electricity. “Shut up, whore.” 

Suddenly, Rafe’s thrusting into you again. But wait, he’s not wearing a condom. In your surprise, this way feels so much better. You can feel the warmth and smoothness of his cock as it easily slides in and out of you, making the most lewd noises. You try to speak, but his hand tightens around your throat one final time, actually making it impossible for you to breathe. He stares into your eyes, watching as your face turns red and your panic sets in. You put your hands on his arm, hitting and tugging on it. Just as your vision starts to go dark, he eases his grip. You gasp for air, taking in as much as you can while he continues his attack on your pussy. 

You’re about to see stars again for the fourth time tonight when he suddenly pulls out of you. You whine at the loss of him, frustrated that he denied you of your orgasm. Rafe rolls off of you, making your brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck?” You question.

He looks over to the clock on his nightstand and you follow his gaze. “Time’s up.” He says plainly. You knew what he was doing. This sneaky motherfucker. He purposely got you to your climax right as the hour ended so you’d prove him right and beg for more; beg to let you cum one more time. As much as you wanted to prove him wrong and just leave, you need this, you need to feel him fill you up.

Before he can protest, you straddle his lap, sinking yourself down onto his cock. Immediately he groans, taking hold of your hips. He holds you still, not letting you move yet. “Knew you’d want more.” He says, now guiding you to grind on his dick, this new position lets him hit a new depth inside you. “M’not paying for this now.”

You don’t respond, instead using your energy to bounce up and down his length. Your climax is already near, your entire body shaking and spent from the past three orgasms he gave you. Rafe helps you out, his strong hand gripping onto you as he holds you up, drilling up into your cunt at a god-like pace. How is someone this talented, this fucking perfect, paying for sex? Surely he could get any girl he wants. Although you’re not complaining, four orgasms and a thousand dollars? How could it get any better than that? 

You yell out as the band in your stomach snaps, the pressure being relieved as a stream of your liquids squirt out of you, splashing onto his stomach, dripping down to his sheets underneath you both. You’re just as shocked as he is when this happens. You didn’t even know you could do that.

“Fuck,” Rafe growls, continuing to fuck up into your shaking body. Rafe doesn’t warn you before shooting his load into you. But the warmth and fulfillment of his seed feels too fucking good to be mad about. Slowly, you pull yourself off of him. He has to help lift you off of his cock since your body is completely spent. “You’re fucking amazing.” He presses a long, soft kiss to your head. 

After helping you clean up a bit, you change into your own clothes. Rafe drives you back to the club, the ride awfully quiet, both of you being too exhausted to talk. When you get there, he pulls his wallet out, grabbing out a large wad of cash and handing it to you. You quickly count it, and then recount it, when your results don’t change, you look up at him with furrowed brows. “That’s for being so fucking good.” Rafe had given you two thousand instead of one. This boosts your confidence a bit, an hour of sex with you is worth two thousand dollars? God, you should’ve fucked Rafe sooner. You get out of his truck and walk towards the club. Rafe speeds off out of the parking lot. 

It’s late, but Barry’s still here, though the crowd has definitely shrunken in the last hour. You walk in and find Barry in the back room. He laughs as he takes in your disheveled appearance; your hair and makeup are disastrous. 

“Looks like someone had a good time, huh? Now where’s my money?” He asks. You pull out the cash, counting 500 and tossing it to him. 

“There. That’s seventy-five percent of what I made.” You start to walk out. But his voice calls you back.

“Shit, you made two thousand in one hour just for fuckin’ him? You got some magic fuckin’ pussy or sum?” He laughs. “I might have to start sellin’ you out more, don’t I?”

Too tired to argue, you walk out. You don’t want to admit it, but you wouldn’t hate having to do that again with Rafe, whether it’s paid or unpaid.

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!

[retrosabers]

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.

contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance

i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.

also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)

!! divider by @strangergraphics !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.

who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.

a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.

at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.

excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.

as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.

if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.

what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.

a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.

your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.

bucky barnes.

quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.

to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.

what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.

it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.

the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.

flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.

you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.

when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.

the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.

you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.

please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.

in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.

it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.

you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.

surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.

bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.

“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.

you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.

it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.

here goes nothing.

“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.

a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.

you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.

“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.

for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.

“don’t recall asking for that either.”

you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”

“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.

despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.

“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.

“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”

bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.

“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.

you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.

“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”

he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”

you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””

why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.

that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.

just your luck, he’s right on schedule.

“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”

a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.

it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.

before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.

“merry christmas buck.”

your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.

and yet. he enjoyed the burn.

as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.

“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.

you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.

while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.

he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.

that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.

a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.

his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.

i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.

merry christmas ♡

bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.

from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.

you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.

but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.

later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.

bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.

tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.

and to ask you about your record collection.

thanks for reading! <3

tag list: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[rae-gar-targaryen]

darling, how could i fear any hurricane? [qimir/the stranger x force sensitive!reader]

Summary: Neither the backwater planet you’d chosen for yourself, nor the sanctity of your own mind, is safe from the nightly visitations of your dream stranger. Is he real, or just another trick of the mind? And what of the power he promises? Desire, he’d spoken of. Desire, desire, desire…

Pairing: Qimir/The Stranger x Force-Sensitive!reader [my reader is written ambiguously, but as with all of my reader inserts are written with a Latina!reader in mind]

Warnings: 18+ please – fingering, dry humping, the brief mention of choking, Qimir being a seductive motherfucker, relatively minor smut, all things considered. The briefest descriptions of violence; reader has female anatomy.

Word Count: 5.7k of sinful soliloquy and definitely no manipulation. No, you want this power, don’t you??

A/N: Breaking my writing drought with this. I don’t know if it’s any good, and no one asked for it. But I’m glad to be sharing my writing again. Please be gentle!! Also, if you’ve ever read my Mandalorian x princess!reader fic, there’s an easter egg in here for you!

--

The verdant planet of Vorduun was known for very little – A small, outer-world, far from the shiny Core planets that boast chrome, progress, and bureaucracy. Lush plantlife, a fertile place with brimming riverbanks, and jungles teeming and thrumming to life with flora and fauna at the turn of the seasons. Off the edge of the map. Off the edge of the world. A perfect place to hide.

To lose yourself. 

And the night is stifling, to say the least. Of all the Vorduunian summers you’d endured in your self-isolation, this one had to be the worst. The months’ long deluge of spring rains had made for a stiflingly humid summer, the green jungle steaming with sticky heat. If a saving grace was to be found in the swelter, it was that the night skies were unlike everything you’d ever beheld – a far cry from the fluorescent pollution endemic of your years on Courscant. 

Tonight's Vorduunian sky is no exception – a clear expanse of rich velvet, stars like diamonds crushed into the smooth folds of the expansive sky. Twinkling and winking richly down at you through the gaping slats of the shack you now called home. 

You twist, a serpent in your own threadbare bedsheets, attempting to find comfort in the sticky summer heat of the planet, chasing the elusive promise of coolness as you flip your pillow to the other side with a huff. 

Kind of a sick game, if you thought about it. That if you weren’t running from something, you were chasing something else. 

At present? Chasing a good night’s rest. Preferably dreamless, if you were honest. Your dreams of late are plagued with all sorts of incomprehensible flashes, feelings of being watched, feverish and hazy. Your subconscious’s foreboding certainty that if you’d only just turn around, you’d be met with a face that was not your own -– the disquieting sense of something, or someone, lurking just around a corner. Sprinting down echoing hallways with promises, greatness, a warrior's oath, all just out of reach, certain that if you’d slowed your pace, whatever was pursuing you might just snatch you, an unseen stranger.

Other nights, the dreams were different – the unflinching and unchanging grin set in a mask of metalloid teeth, baring themselves at you . Of ever-watchful eyes judging, as you forced yourself through training drills. The disapproving shake of your Master’s head, his disappointment palpable and always, always directed at only you . The seizing terror of being dropped into combat with no saber – of being skewered through by an unseen shadow with a red plasma blade. Of walls closing in on you. Of the Knights whom you had once considered your friends turning their backs on you while you fought tooth and nail. Of your lungs filled with your unreleased screams – of terror or frustration, you weren’t sure – pulling you down beneath the surface of your failure until you drowned in the disappointment of others’ unfulfilled expectations. Of hands on an unseen body tinkering with phials of something, producing poisonous concoctions of sickly green that the unseen stranger dripped down your throat, pouring them past your lips with sure, warm fingers pressing on your tongue. You swore you could feel the poison upon your waking, the phantom feeling of liquid shredding your veins with horrific heat, your heart thundering. 

Other nights the dreams were different yet, still. Of shadows shedding their inky cloak to reveal hands that caressed. Of hands that held you and wiped your tears. Of thorns falling from vines – leaving what once had pricked and scratched you to now soothe with velvety softness as the vines wound their way around your wrists, tugging you into an unseen embrace with whispers of promises humming in your ears like the tufty wings of insects. And you would go willingly. Of the warm breath of another in your ear, their body warm behind you, distinct in its softness from that of the sunwarmed cliffs the two of you would watch the sunset from, just you and your unseen stranger. Of those same metalloid teeth melting into a radiant smile of brilliant white, beheld in a sharp jaw – the critique of disapproving masters replaced by his balmy, sublime approval. 

Of the tease and taste of his cinnamon lips brushing your own, the fluttering fan of lashes along the peaks of your cheekbones. Of warm, wan whispers of want , desire , soothing your ears. Of warm, fine-boned, assured hands atop your own, guiding yours in a sensuous glide along your own skin. Promises of m ore, more, more as silken lips slipped their way along the column of your throat – your hitching gasps met with his rumbling hums of satisfaction that lasted in your ears for the duration of the following day. Of the gentle lapping of water over smooth-rocked shores, a hand grasping yours with a promise of power. Yet again of more, more, more, if you’d just … Well, you weren’t sure. 

What you were sure of was that it had been weeks of these dreams. Your exhaustion was tugging at the corners of your reality, manifesting itself into silly mistakes – a slipped knife while cutting your meals, or the prickling feeling of someone watching from the dark corner of your room. At times, you weren’t sure what was real and what was dreamscape. A slow descent into madness, torment that felt justified, somehow –-

This purgatory was clearly your penance for your failure. To atone for the fact that you could never be more than what you are now – a former padawan cast out of a renowned Order, thanks in part to her own passions and propensities, roiling rages, and lilting lust. A warrior stripped of all pomp and credential. A blistering reminder of something never to be, of someone you could never be. 

And so here you were. Piteous and exiled in the jungles of Vorduun with no one other than your occasional unseen dream stranger for company. And what of tonight? Had you slept? Were you asleep? The hazy jungle heat made it impossible to tell. When your days consist of the same, tedious routine maintenance to your little corner of jungle, purely isolated, save for irregular treks to the nearest settlement to barter … And when you tossed and turned your nights away in fitful fugue states of half-awake melded with oppressive dreams – well, who was to say what was really real?  

The ghost of a touch along your exposed shoulder didn’t merit a response … Until it happened again. Causing you to sit bolt upright in bed, eyes tracking the room for any disturbance – seen or unseen. 

That prickle, so like static rippling across your skin couldn’t be the Force. No, no. It was the trickle of sweat down the back of your neck, and nothing else. What reason would you have to feel the Force here, now? 

Just another heated night, just another heated dream….

And now, were your eyes deceiving you, or were the shadows in the corner of your room were moving, swirling into shape as a well-toned arm emerges from the darkness, raised in a gesture of … peace? And the rest of him follows, stepping into the muted illumination from your single gaslamp that sputters in the corner of your room, casting his shadow along the opposite wall, sinuous and slinking as he slowly approaches. 

You spring from your bed, eyes darting to the loose slat in your floor where you housed your ill-used saber, quickly considering the relative size of your room and how many steps it would take him to reach you, arms outstretched, to snuff the life from you before you could call the blade to your hand . 

His eyes track yours, clocking the floorboard, before placing both hands up in front of him now, a plea – 

“You don’t need that,” he murmurs, taking a tentative step toward you. And whether it was the room that shrank around you both, or that was just his presence in your space – so unused to anyone but you – you weren’t sure.

“Need what?” Play dumb, and he won't have any reason to harm you, leaving you an opportunity to strike. Your favorite trick, a minor deception for a tactical advantage.

He steps into the dim, flickering light of the gas lamp, a mild smirk blooming along his full lips, the lamplight warming his skin.

“Your Jedi weapon.”

You glance once more between the loose floorboard and the man slowly approaching you, cocking your head as his features became revealed to you, your mind tickling with recognition as you noted the sharp angle of his jaw and the baleful, syrupy darkness of his eyes –

“You,” you breathe. “I know your face.”

“Do you?” His eyes meet yours, searching. 

Yes. You had a good memory for faces, and his you had seen a few times before. Your trips to the nearest settlement every tenday for the open-air market to barter what you had cultivated from the land around your ramshackle home for fruit, thread, and other goods you didn’t often come by on your own. You had seen him at a stall selling tinctures and other apothecary-type goods. You’d never approached, of course. Hadn’t had a need for burn creams or toxins. But there was no denying the swooping lock of hair that would curtain over his eyes, the sharp angle of his features. The way his eyes would track the movement of the market, hawkish, despite the seeming ineffectual haze in them…

A minor deception, you now realize. But for what tactical advantage?

“The chemist from the bazaar,” you reply.

His lips quirk at your realization – the bud of the smirk now unfurling into a full smile. 

“You’re more observant than I gave you credit for, warrior,” he stands before you now, hands still lightly held up in a gesture of peace. “That’s good… A nice surprise ,” his voice taking on an almost-purr of satisfaction.   

You pause, lips parting lightly. What could he mean by that? 

“Qimir,” he gestures to himself by way of introduction.

Qimir. Likely not his real name. Still, you ponder, an interesting choice. Qimir. Like Chimaera, something ancient and unknowable. A monstrous creature signifying the parable of illusion – the promise of something only too impossible to achieve. You wonder if he knew what his “name” sounded like when he’d picked it.

And you hope your face hasn’t betrayed your whirring thoughts as you continue your assessment, hoping to keep a sweep of neutrality across your features as you address him again.

“If you say so. Business must be slow if you’re here to rob me, poisoner. I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed,” your eyes flit around the relatively bare bedroom, gesturing with your chin to the equally Spartan main room of your little ramshackle cabin. “Not much here of value.” 

He crosses one foot over the other as he takes a step to orbit you, almost swordsmanlike. As though he were preparing to duel. You mirror his step, your back to your bed now, facing your doorway. His body between yours and your exit. 

“I wouldn’t say nothing,” he brings a finger to his chin as if in ponderment. “You’re here, after all. And why would I give you my name, show you my face, if I intended to rob you?” 

“Why you do anything means nothing to me,” you bite, “and you’ll have to forgive my manners if I don’t feel like giving you my name. Leave, now , while I let you leave, Qimir.” 

His eyes sweep your form, note your weight on the balls of your feet, bracing for a fight. You probably have weapons other than your laser sword stashed away, if he had to guess . He takes a tentative step toward you, a low chuckle escaping him at the fire in your eyes, trying not to smile any wider than he has already, to give away his pleased impression of your fury. 

“I know who you are,” you blink at his statement, trying not to let the surprise show on your face. “You don't have anything to fear from me, little Jedi.”

“I am no Jedi,” you snipped, rolling your eyes at the insolence of the man before you. If he cared at all about your rude display, Qimir said nothing.

“I am more than aware of that, too,” he murmured, his voice like silk in your ears as he takes yet another small step toward you, invading your space, close enough to breathe your air, a hair’s breadth from touch.  

Too close. You flex your fingers, calling your lightsaber from its hiding place under your loose floorboard into the palm of your hand in a flash, the cool metal meeting your palm like an old friend, a sense of relief. You surge forward into Qimir’s space, pressing the hilt of the saber into his abdomen.

“If you know so much, then you also know you shouldn’t have come,” you snarl. “I don’t know if you didn't take the hint, here at the edge of the world, but I don't take kindly to uninvited guests.”  

“You did invite me, little viper,” he insists, his voice never losing its even, dulcet quality.

At your furrowed brow, he gently brings his fingertips to brush the bare skin of your wrist that’s pressing the hilt of your lightsaber into his stomach. A familiar, prickling ripple bursts across your skin, causing goosebumps to stipple your arms. So familiar. So like the feel of lips from your unseen stranger. So like the Force. 

The dark eyes that met yours in the low light of your room were familiar for more than just an observation in passing at the market. 

“Y-you,” you gasp, the realization causing your chest to seize, to clench your teeth in the wave of seething anger. “You’ve been … in my head … for months …” 

He cocks his head at you, watching the emotions process along your face. He had seen your fears and failures, your heart’s greatest desires. He had seen it all …

“The quickest way to your heart,” he reasons. “Through your head. So you’ll have to forgive my intrusion. I wanted to know you.” Sweet words meant to soothe.  

You aren’t sure if that makes it any better. Perhaps the reasoning makes it worse.

“So like a poisoner,” you level his gaze with a steely one of your own. “To try to slip through the cracks unseen. But I know the quickest way to your heart.”

“You do?” He seems surprised at your rejoinder. As if he hadn’t expected you to play. To be so quick of wit as you were of reflex.

“Between your fourth and fifth rib,” you hum, your voice taking on an almost-seductive tone – a contradiction to the reminder of you pressing the hilt of the saber into him, precisely where you mean to. 

“I appreciate a good threat. Clever,” he smiles, placating. “But there’s no need for that, little warrior. After all… I wouldn't leave you to the dark, not like they did,” he assures, brushing his fingertips against the bare skin of your wrist, so lightly you would’ve thought you’d imagined it. Using the contact to connect to you through the Force once more – your shared memories dancing behind one another’s eyes. Of your fellow Padawans succeeding while your Master only saw failure. Of the dazzlingly white smile of your classmate with the bronze skin and twists in his hair, his yellow lightsaber flashing as you drilled together, his smile fading to frown with the rest of his features as you had used the Force to push him away a bit too hard – rage bubbling to the surface – in direct violation of your training ordinances. Of your departure from Coruscant, no one to bid you goodbye, not even your training partner who had once called himself your friend.

You make to turn your head, to break contact with his dark, glimmering, all-seeing eyes. Like tar pits, drawing you ever deeper. His other hand catches your chin between thumb and forefinger, drawing you back to his gaze, an orbit you cannot escape. Would you even want to?

“And do you believe you would have belonged? The Jedi are deceivers. They deal in abandonment … cloaked in empty platitudes,” he trails his index finger along the curve of your  jawline, an almost illusory brush of his skin against yours – the whisper of a touch, as though to illustrate the point. “The wisp of a  promise, like spun sugar. Sweet, but false, their promises of righteousness. Of importance.”

Your lips part, catching the barest bit of his thumb as it does so, your eyes now searching his, seeking motive.

“And what do you offer instead? That's what this is, right? An offer?”

He smiles wider now, nodding in the barest acknowledgment. As though you’ve finally asked the right question.

“I … make the intangible tangible.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning …” his hand leaves the curve of your jaw to touch his fingertips to your temple, pressing, rendering a vision to your mind. And what Force magic was this? To make you see beyond your own eye’s sight. Foresight? An illusion? A vision? A memory? A promise or a deception?

Whatever it is, you see it so clearly – an uninhabited plant roaring with ocean as far as your eyeline can perceive. Waves lapping gently along grey-stoned shores. Moss-covered alcoves where you sit with him, your stranger, the sunset warming your skin as he caresses your face, your hair, whispering praises just beyond your mind’s own comprehension into your ear – the tone sinful, syrupy. His arms securing you in the night as you rest, no more dreams of abandonment. 

Warmth, endless warmth… as his lips trail the shell of your ear, down your neck, bestowing belief of besotted brushes of lips. Adroit affection aimed right at the heart of you. 

“Hmmm … meaning …. Your feelings, your power, your talent all working, to manifest toward something real. Something you want.” His hand leaves your temple and rests on your shoulder, taking advantage of your state of ponderment to gently guide you, ever mindful of the still-unlit lightsaber pressed to his stomach, leading away from your bed to the wall just next to the adjacent doorframe, the patient waltz of a waiting predator. He brings his hand to rest on the wall, next to your head.

“Something I want,” you reply dreamily, coming back to yourself just enough to realize what he’d said, exhaling through your nose in an indignant little huff. “In exchange for … ?”

“Tell me something,” he replies, lithely lilting around your question with one of his own, flexing his fingers where they rest on the wall. “Why are you no Jedi?” 

“I … abjured,” you admit, a bit too primly, the lightsaber now feeling like an unbearable weight in your palm at your words, the weight of choices – both your own and those of whom purported to teach you. To guide you to something greater. Was it as he said? Were their promises so meaningless? “Broke my oath,” you suck your lower lip between your teeth, pausing before daring to meet his gaze again. “I couldn’t … suppress how they wanted me to. I didn’t want to fail anymore. I was so tired of failing. So, I … abjured. I was weak.” 

Your eyes meet his once more at your admission, yours shining with unshed tears waiting to fall like stars. Shimmering promises to slip down your cheeks, unkept and unchecked. Your fingers fumbled, seemingly of their own accord, unwilling to hold the weight, the threat, of the saber against him any longer. The hilt clattered to the floor, a clanging finality to punctuate your words. And when was the last time you had been so honest, so vulnerable with another?

How … unlike you. 

“Not weak,” he cups your cheeks with both hands, fine-boned thumbs tracing the peaks of your cheeks, as though to wipe away your unshed tears. “The same as me. Power searching for its other half. An unwaning, unflickering flame.” 

Your unseen stranger, now seen, takes your hands in his, the buzz of the Force still tingling across your skin at his words, at the recognition of his power.

“You asked what I want. You want the same as me, and I the same as you. A companion . A partner. Unlike them, I won't judge you for your feelings. Won’t judge you for your power …  You want – I can feel it rippling across your skin,” he closes his eyes, cocking his head, shivering as though to illustrate the point. “... Mmm, and I want,  too. We can want together. If you'd let us.”

The flickering light of your room seemed to dim in tandem with his syrupy words, cloying and dripping like honey into golden nettle tea. The swirling honeytar of his eyes appraising you as the Force connection prickled with hazy heat between your bodies and the damnable musk of the jungle air.

You press yourself further into the wall he’d leaned you against, tilting your chin to appraise him in kind, searching for veracity in his words. Something more substantial than the “spun sugar” he’d accused the Jedi of weaving. 

As though he could sense your trepidation before it could cross your face, he placed a hand on your hip, the contact searing you through the thin fabric of your tank top.  

“They kicked you out because you feel. I'd never do that. I want you to feel … to feel power. To feel what you’re capable of. Of what it can become. Rage. Fear. Loss. Desire. Train with me, you’ll feel it all. I want you to feel it all … to feel me.”

Desire, he had spoken of. The gentle roll of his low voice over the syllables echoing perfectly in your ears. Desire, desire, desire. That desire, so  like venom snaking its way through your blood, hot and purposeful. An all-consuming burn through your blood, befitting of a poisoner as he. 

“You felt it, didn’t you? When I came in,” he iterates, somewhere south of a plea. “All. That. Power.” The hand not resting on your hip comes to cup your face once more. “I can teach you.” 

You had read somewhere once, in the Archives, about creatures on long-abandoned planets with the ability to draw their prey in through vanity. The flash of feathers. Or shiny scales. Big, baleful eyes, perhaps. Only to sink their teeth in once their intended had come too close. 

You draw in a breath, searching his pleasing face for any sign of a tell. Of the flicker of eyes that would signify deception. Of hidden fangs beneath his beautiful, full lips. Of anything that would bely his true intentions behind your Force connection. You swept your eyes across broad, defined shoulders, down toned, muscled arms exposed through his sleeveless shift. A warriors’ weapon wrapped in a pleasing package, to be sure. But … with no discernable hint of false suggestion. 

You shift your weight once more onto the balls of your feet, away from the wall and into him . Continuing your appraisal as you tilt your head, allowing the scent of his skin – the tang of sweat from the humid jungle air commingling with something sharp and clean – to wash over you. 

You invade his space now, leaning into the hand that grips your hip and the other that cradles your head, boldly brushing your lips along his with the barest hint of touch, feeling his lips smile against yours.

You whisper, your lips silken against his, “Tell me, poisoner … You seduce me with lies, is that it? You wish for me to call you Master? Forsake all else to worship at your altar?” 

You catch the flash in his eyes as the word “seduce” leaves your lips.

“I haven't lied to you,” his voice is a hum. An attempt to provide reassurance as he couples them with what he hopes is a comforting gesture. His fingers travel from your hip to trail your ribs, a partial embrace.

“Do you consider not telling the entire truth to be a lie?” 

“Have I shown you any lies? No. Just dreams. The promise of what could be. What I –,” he pauses, “– we could be. I cannot fabricate the Force, little warrior. Everything you feel tonight is you . It’s me. What more could you want? ” 

Your once-steely resolve is crumbling under the weight of his insinuation … "everything you feel tonight” –  the honey in his words sweet to your ears, you wonder fleetingly if he'd be even sweeter on your tongue. 

And he knew you, didn’t he? By his own admission, he’d seen your faults and flaws for months … your desires. And he had shown you promises, premonitions, predilections… a future of power. And if there is power in two hemispheres – one of sweltering heat, one of blistering ice. Which were you? And which was he? 

Together you would surely melt…

“No more rules, little warrior,” he sighs, “just the power of two.” He slides his lips across yours, purposeful, before capturing your lower lip between his teeth, nipping once before releasing, admiring the way your expression flickered from defiance to desire before surging forward, pressing you back into the wall as his lips capture yours.

He swallows your gasp, bringing his fingers to wrap loosely around your neck while his other hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt. 

You break from his kiss with a gasp between swollen, bitten lips. But he gives you no reprieve, his lips trailing to your neck, where he sets about pressing hot-mouthed kisses. Molten lava flooding the column of your throat, chased with the scrape of nipping teeth. Soothe and scrape. Push and pull. Give, give, give, take.  

You thread your fingers through the silken hair tucked behind his ears, tugging him from his ministrations on your neck and forcing him to meet your eyes – to see if the blaze of want you felt scorching your skin was reflected in the liquid coal, ready to ignite. 

His lips twist into a smirk at your insistent tugging; if he was at all surprised, he didn’t show it. His face the perfect picture of pleasure. 

“What would we do with it?” You inquire, “This power?” 

“Hmmm,” he pretended to ponder, suddenly scooping you, a brief lift as he crossed the short distance to your bed, seating himself with you on his lap. No concession of dominance; merely placing you precisely where he means to. To allow you to feel him beneath you. 

“What would you like to do, little warrior, hm?” His fingers flicked the thin straps of your flimsy sleep shirt, exposing your shoulders, leaning forward to trail his lips along the now-bared expanse of your shoulder, your collar bones, your neck, his eyes glancing up to watch your face as he went. “Make them pay? Take what’s yours?” 

His hands feel their way down your form, down your sides, along your hips, the skin of his palms rasping against the smooth expanse of your thighs has his fine-boned fingers make their way beneath the loose fabric of the cropped pants you sleep in, dangerously close to the precipice of your desire , urging you to move. Guiding your hips in a rhythmic glide in his lap. 

You gasp at his attentions, at the combination of his promises and the heady feel of his skin along yours, bringing your hands to grip his biceps – desperately seeking a way to anchor yourself. 

And if it’s his poison that will bring you to the edge, would you regret it? You were starting to believe you could never regret him , not at the feel of his chest pressed against yours, the toned muscle beneath your fingers. His sharp angles caressing your soft curves, replacing the lonely ache in your bones with the lovely heat of him, both his promises and his attentions.

His mouth was keyed and intentional in its work of you, with pressed kisses like flower petals blooming along the skin of your neck, followed by the scraping thorns of his teeth. Brutish and beautiful, as his fine-boned fingers crept to the inside of your thighs, rubbing along your clothed center, intensifying the ache you felt. He shifts your weight in his lap, causing your legs to spread wider, straddling him lowly as he tugs the offending fabric aside, guiding your hips into a roll over his clothed lap and his growing hardness. Manifesting his delight at the choked gasp you emitted in the form of a teasing little buck of his hips, guiding you down as he guided himself up, delighting in the sharp gasps that met his ears as he continues to sway you to his rhythm. 

“Desire isn't a sin, little warrior,” he breathes the words into your mouth, lips a hairs’ breadth apart, the better to swallow your moans. “What we feel feeds our connection to the Force, gives you strength ... If you know how. Let me show you. Touch me.” 

It was as though electricity was crackling, popping beneath your fingertips as you took his instruction and began to explore the expanse of his body, slipping your hands beneath his tunic to feel the silken heat of his firm torso, the ache within you mounting at the heady combination of the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips – so long since you’d touched another, been touched – and his hardness between the cleft of your thighs. Smoldering, low-heat burned along your skin and beneath your fingertips. Or was it his fingers that were doing the burning? It was hard to tell where he ended and you began, one arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you bodily into him, an infinite loop of power and pleasure.

As you continue to touch him, you could feel it – his connection to the force, strong, volatile, like lightning striking the ocean – crackling and formidable like the man who contained it.

And Qimir – you had long since given up trying to determine if it was, in fact, his real name – rewards you with a gift of his own, the velvet rumble of a groan of pleasure emanating from his throat at your touch. A sound of syrup and satisfaction. 

Pleased that you could garner such a reaction from a being as powerful as he, you smile, boldly meeting his lips with a kiss, opening your mouth with a gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, to taste the zip of power that he had determined in his moths of observation was just you, a torrent of citrus drizzle, bold and sweet. 

Reluctantly, he parts his lips from yours, ducking his head to tug the straps of your top down with his teeth, exposing your breasts to the heated air of the room. And if your desire at the repeated rolling of his hips beneath yours wasn’t enough to do you in, you figured this might. Bathing in the celestial feel the press his lips to your nipple, tongue swirling over the peaking flesh. Pleased at the goosebumps that erupt now in the wake of his attention. 

While he continues to tease your breasts with tongue and teeth, Qimir guides his other hand along your thighs, slipping his practiced fingers beneath your shorts, delighting in the wetness he was met with, basking  in the jolting shiver the motion elicited from you, at the friction of his fingers rubbing along the seam of you – causing you to wiggle, to roll your hips into his touch. 

And oh, as he slips his fingers inside of you, your eyes roll back, tilting your head to allow Qimir to admire the curving, elegant slope of exposed throat – prey before a predator, gasping at the pleasure he wrought. Breathless. If you thought he was teasing you before, his fingers inside of you were their own type of mocking punishment, well aware of his effect on you and the way your cunt throbs as he strokes inside of you. You could do nothing but wriggle your hips, whimpering piteously and attempting to roll your hips to follow his fingers as they work you, as this crescendo builds.

“Say you’ll be mine, warrior, and you can have it.” he promises. A new oath. One you’d never forsake. For him, you’d never turn, never abjure. Not so long as his touch made stars erupt behind your eyes, not so long as his lips dripped syrup promises down your throat.  

Kissing you once more, golden and slow, molten and revelatory as he works his fingers inside of you, your thighs parting to accommodate him. His thumb rolls repeated brushes over your clit, delighting in the starshine burst as you reached your peak, a broken little moan that sounded suspiciously like the word “master,” passing your lips in a keening sigh. 

You regard him through bleary, closing eyes and the warm, citrus haze of your orgasm as he slips his fingers from you, guiding you down to recline in your bed, stroking your hair as he does so, lulling you as a lover would. 

“Sleep, warrior,” his velvet voice meets your ears, lyrical and lilting. “I’ll be back for you.” 

And like each night before that one, his figure slips from you… as though he was never there. It wasn’t a dream, was it? It was hard to tell after months of this teasing game. After his promises built so much only to guide you to this release. 

And in the silvery light of the jungle’s dawn, you awoke with that very question on your lips, met with the sight of your saber placed gently on your little bedside table as opposed to its usual hiding spot. You wake to the sweet afterache of something between your thighs, to the scraped marks of teeth along the expanse of your neck. 

And to the promise of something – of a future of power and partnership. If only you’d be so bold as to accept it. As you eyed the saber, you recalled the prickle of his Force power along your skin, increasing with his proximity. And by the time he arrived to meet you again, you knew what your answer would be … 

--

tagging:

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[wandaslittlepsycho]

Precious

pairing: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 ༝༝ 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: your bunny slips through the crack of your front door and you run after her in hopes of catching the pet again. You get lost but your time still ticks, nightfall inching closer and closer as you inevitably sink further into the woods. Luckily, your eyes spot a cabin, and you become acquaintances with the unusual redhead that resides there.

warnings: dubcon, filthy smutty smut smut, HEAVYYYY dacryphilia, groping, dry humping, praise kink, thigh riding (r receiving), mid writing, wanda is lowkey a sadist, slightly unhinged crazy yet loveable and sexy cabin wanda, age gap > r is 20 w is 32

A/N: first fic!!! hi… im very new to writing fics so please be nice ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა (i wrote this listening to a true crime documentary idk)

kind of a messy plot but I still hope my little freaks enjoy…… and I’m also sorry this took longer than expected I just kept contemplating if it was good or absolute shit </3

+

this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

It’s getting pretty late…

You think to yourself, hugging your shoulders as you look up at the overcast sky.

How did I end up here in the first place?

✦

You move a leaf to the side and pick the fresh strawberry that was stashed there, rinsing it in your small bucket of water and taking a mouthful of the delicious treat.

You hear a shuffle beside you. Turning your head, you see a white bunny hiding behind one of your sunflower pots. You smile and place another strawberry onto the ground before slowly walking away. Your eyes relish how cute the little animal is as they chomp away at your colourful fruit.

You stand in the corner of your garden and decide from then on, you’d feed the hungry bunnies that would stroll into your neighbourhood.

A few days pass and you quickly became friends with two specific bunnies who you named Clover and Daisy. You eventually took them in as your own, rottenly spoiling both of the creatures. You loved having them around because living alone in a small town that was an hour away from the city can definitely become lonely.

“This tastes like candy to you doesn’t it Daisy?” You say as you hold out your hand and watch her nibble it up. The fur around her mouth is stained purple, you laugh at the sight.

“Okay that’s enough blueberries for tonight! You’ll get sick if you keep eating those.” You click the plastic container shut, standing up and walking into your kitchen. You place the container in the side compartment of your fridge for tomorrow and stroll back into your living room.

Your brows furrow. Daisy is gone. Daisy and Clover are such good bunnies, they never leave your sight for more than a minute. You assume she ran to her sister Clover, but your eyes widen in horror when you see your front door slightly more cracked open than it was before you left.

You anxiously open your phone and dial your best friend Frankie. You ramble to her about how stupid you felt for leaving the door open, like you are an irresponsible parent who’s no smarter than a bag of rocks. She calmly tells you to go look for Daisy and that she’ll come over as soon as she can to watch Clover.

“Thank you so so much, Frankie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sigh in relief, a hand pressed over your chest. You feel your heart jump underneath your palm and your lips trembling with every breath.

“It’s no problem, Y/N/N. Now go look for that bunny, I’ll be over in 5.”

“Bye, thank you again..” You hang up the phone and dart out the door. You frantically look through your shrubs and call her name, but a bright white spot in your peripheral steals your attention.

There she is, bouncing her way into the open forest across the road from you. As soon as she hops out of your view you race towards her, carelessly running past two moving cars. You ignore the frustrated yelling and the beeping horns, continuing to boost into daisies direction.

“DAISY! WAIT!!”

You yell, but your shouting only seems to spur her on. You run after her and neither of you lose pace. You turn corners, run through mud and almost slip doing so at least two times. The animal suddenly picks up it’s speed, turning abruptly and disappearing into a thick bush. You get on your knees and practically rip this bush to shreds, but she was already long gone. Daisy is no more.

You feel tears sting your eyes, ears and cheeks becoming hot from your stress. You sniffle and wipe your tears with the sleeve of your jacket. You knew it was impossible to look for her now. That bunny became your life in just a couple of days, she felt like a childhood pet. The thought of never seeing her again made your heartstrings tie themselves into knots.

You lose the path you were on but you couldn’t care less. You lost your beloved bunny baby; life is no longer worth living. You wonder if Clover’s okay, and how exactly you’d break the news to her.

So lost and full of woe, mind not even switched on, you didn’t notice the thick tree root in front of you until you stub your foot against it and fall forward. You wince and slowly stand up again. Dusting the crunchy leaves off of your clothes, you use the back of your hand to wipe the dripping bead of blood from your cheekbone.

Great, a cut. I’ll have to clean that up when I get home..

You wonder aimlessly with your head hung low. A brisk breeze that brushes past you is what makes you finally look up.

You hug your shoulders as you stare at the gloomy airspace. The sun isn’t beaming, only a variation of different grey clouds flood the sky.

A person? This far out on in the woods?

Wanda thinks. She watches you with a deranged, curious look as you weave yourself through the webs and bushes, seemingly extra careful about tree roots.

You look up from the ground, scanning the area around you and pause when you see the warm glow of her cabin.

My god, she’s gorgeous.

She takes a swift step back so she’s not in the frame of the window anymore, her brows furrowing. She stares at the wall, she hasn’t seen an actual person in so long.

What is a girl like you doing traipsing in the woods?

She peeks again and now you’re making your way over, big wary eyes cautiously examining your surroundings. A shiver rocks through you as you cough into your elbow, then using that arm to place three firm knocks on the door.

You sigh while you wait for someone to answer the door. You switch from tippy toes to the heel of your feet in a nervous manner. The cabin looks great, almost pristine, there’s no way it’s abandoned.

You feel stupid for going into a cabin in the woods. It’s like some dumb movie; you’re just hoping you don’t end up dead. You expect to see an old, wrinkled man the size of a third grader, but your eyes widen when a tall red headed woman swings the door open. You stutter, stunned that a woman like her would live in a place so isolated.

Holy shit, she’s fine.

“Hi, um.. I know it’s a lot to ask but can I stay here for a little bit? I… got lost.” You fiddle with your fingers. She chuckles as she crosses her arms, biting her lip and letting her eyes run up and down your fidgety figure.

“No it’s not asking anything at all. It’s not like I get visitors very often.” She moves to the side and welcomes you in. You look up at her and mumble a small thank you, slowly stepping inside her warm homestead.

The smell of firewood burning and sweet lavender conquer your senses. The comforting atmosphere relaxes you despite how unfamiliar it is. You kick off your boots and grab them so you can neatly place them next to the door. She shuts the door and clicks it locked, quietly making her way over to what looks like her kitchen.

You drink in the sight around you. A tall, cobblestone fireplace lined up against the wall with wood already burning inside of it. A soft lounge suite with a fluffy mat sitting right underneath it. There’s a short hallway and two doors, one you assume leading into her bedroom and the other probably being her bathroom.

One thing you notice in particular is a painting, one with two women sitting on a red velvet couch. One is dressed in white, the other is dressed in black and they both have lace blindfolds wrapped around their heads.

Their Victorian dresses were detailed and long, their lips so close but afraid to touch and give in.

You look away and clench your fists. Your face is now hot, when you entered a remote cabin in the woods, a gay victorian painting was the last thing you expected.

“Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” The woman’s hoarse voice echoes through the room. Your ears perk up when they catch a touch of an accent.

Is she some type of Russian? That’s hot.

Your anxious form shifts over to her couch to sit down. You sigh in relief, your aching bones melting into the man made cloud that was this woman’s sofa.

“So what’s your name, milaya?” The woman hands you a cup. Your cold fingers feel fuzzy against the hot mug, shuffling back further into her couch so you can sit up comfortably.

“Y/N. You?”

“Wanda.”

A small smile sits on her face that is on some level, disturbing. It’s such a beautiful smile but you can feel something is not right with her. Your intuition has never made itself more distinct, it was less noticeable when you were walking alone outside.

The room feels like it’s getting smaller, the claustrophobia whips the air right out of your lungs. Your eyes flicker between hers. The room starts to spin. Your ears start to ring. Before you could pass out cold, she cups your chin, the gentle gesture pulling you out of your panicked state.

“That’s a nasty cut isn’t it? Would you like me to take care of that?” She says, her tone coaxing. Your curious eyes linger on her,

Why is this stranger being so generous?

If someone entered your home and needed to stay the night, you’d tell them to get lost. She caresses your face softly while she stares at the wound.

“No it’s oka-“ She suddenly pushes a finger to the fresh cut, forcing you to wince and pull away from her. She looks at you in a way you can’t describe, your reaction seemingly piqueing her interest. Her pupils dilate but not enough for you to notice. You look at her with fearful eyes and think to yourself,

Who would do that?

“Actually, that would be nice. Thank you..”

~

Your eyes switch between the steaming drink in your hand and the obviously unhinged redhead sitting next to you. Her aura is intimidating, but you convince yourself it’s paranoia.

I’m in a remote cabin deep in the woods.

Who wouldn’t be unsettled? She’s nice and she helped you…stop being dumb Y/N!

“Thank you again for cleaning my cut, Wanda.” You try to strike up a conversation, but all you’re met with is painful silence. She watches your lips touch the ring of the porcelain teacup, then moving her eyes up to meet your own.

“You’re very observant aren’t you?” You refer to her endless stare, disguising your discomfort with a small chuckle. Her smile widens.

"Fascinuješ ma, miláčik.” “You fascinate me, darling.”

Your brows squeeze together. You wish you could understand what she said, but it felt rude asking her to repeat that in English. You result in shyly looking away and focus on your dangling feet.

Her hand occasionally runs down your back or strokes your arm. Her icy featherlight touches cause goosebumps to ride over your skin. She notices your eyes following her fingers, a mischief smirk hiking up her cheeks.

“You’re so lucky I’m here to help you, dear. What was a girl like you doing in the woods all alone?” Her hand lands on your knee, slowly climbing up closer to your heat and lightly massaging the flesh there. You squirm when she inches closer to your mound, but you’re in her home. She could do anything to you if you said something that upset her.

What if she’s just being nice? I don’t want to offend her…

“I- uh- I was hunting?” You try to paint yourself as tough but fail spectacularly; you can tell by the way she squints her eyes when she hears your answer.

“If that were true, you’d have hunting gear on you, sweetie.” She moves your hair to the other side of your neck to expose the milky skin there. She gawks at your neck like a predator creeping on her prey, ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

The thought of kissing and licking at your silky skin and the vivid image of you biting your plush pink lips made her tremble with desire.

You shrink, staring at the drink in your hands and feeling a strike of vulnerability as you quietly say the words, “I was chasing a bunny..”

“Aww aren’t you precious?” She praises. She toys with the soft threads of your hair, your cheeks glowing a rosy pink from her comment. Her hand squeezes your thigh more roughly, the unexpected act making you jump.

“Such a pretty thing.” She whispers to herself. You don’t catch her words, so you hum and tilt your head, showing your confusion in hopes she would repeat herself.

“Oh… nothing.” She quickly replaces her shock with a crooked grin. Your lips stretch into a small and nervous smile, slowly putting the cup to your mouth again.

A few more moments of silence are present. The crackling of burning wood and the crickets chirping in the distance gave you a chance to finally breathe, although you still struggle to ignore her invasive presence.

“Put the drink down.” You look at her in surprise. You stutter, taken aback by her orders but don’t dare ask any questions. You lick your lips and shuffle, leaning forward to sit the drink on her coffee table. You then move back against the couch and stare into the orange flames in front of you.

“Do you like when people are rough with you, angel?”

You freeze hearing her question. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear ever so gently, grinning when she sees the sheer terror written on your face. There was something eerie about the way she had asked you, a corrupted little twinkle beaming from her eyes.

“Well, no.. N-Not really why?” Your voice is shaking. You know for sure now that this woman is not in her right mind. She could be capable of doing anything and you wouldn’t expect it. She flashes you a charming smile as she continues to twirl and play with your hair, leaning closer to you before whispering,

“Can I tell you a secret?” Your breath hitches softly and your body tenses at the close proximity. You refuse to look at her. You cement your eyes to the flickering fire in front of you. Her hand smoothly travels from your thigh to the zip of your corduroy jacket, slowly pulling down at the metal teeth to reveal your white v-neck shirt and ruby necklace. The sound of your zipper in the unsettling silence makes your skin crawl. You could almost hear the ominous, suspenseful background music. You don’t know what would happen if you deny her, so you hesitantly nod your head.

“I like hurting people… Especially pretty toys like you. I haven’t done it in a long time though.” Her eyes hungrily take in your chilled expression. You gulp when she pulls the jacket off of your shoulders and throws to the side.

“I love to see girls cry, tears running down their sweet little faces…” Her hands rub your upper arms soothingly as she rubbed her nose into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent. You found yourself unable to move or respond, giving in to her game and listening to her sick train of thought.

“Can I make you cry, please, sweet girl?” She mumbles into your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin there. Your breathing becomes heavier, needing her so very badly you start to tune out the blaring alarms in your head.

“Wanda listen-” She moves on top of you. She situates herself between your legs giving you no chance to close them, running her hands up and down your thighs. It all happened so fast.

“Pretty please? You’d look so good..” She becomes breathless at the thought, lunging forward and forcefully pushing her lips onto yours. Her lips feel pillowy and soft against yours, she smells of sweet vanilla and a smoky but subtle cinnamon; the mix makes your brain go dizzy with want. She tangles her hands with yours so she can pin your frantic ones onto the couch. Butterflies dance in your stomach, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Her kiss is rough but somehow so soft at the same time, the conflicted feeling makes your heart flutter.

She puts all her body weight onto you, grinding her crotch into yours as she murmurs praises into your mouth. “You’re so fucking cute,” “It’s gonna feel so so good, just let me touch you..”

She slides her tongue across your lip, silently telling you to open your mouth. She angrily tightens her grip on your hands when you groan and clench your jaw shut, forbidding her access.

“Open your mouth, or I’ll find another way to make it stay open.” You whine quietly, slowly opening your mouth and letting her slide in. You whimper and squirm when her hands land on your hips, guiding you to grind against her knee.

“There you go, so so pretty grinding on me like that..” You grab handfuls of her sweater, the fabric of your cotton panties rubbing against you creating the perfect friction. You softly moan her name, back arching while hiding your face in her neck, ashamed how riled up you are from being taken advantage of. One of her hands move from your hip to your thigh, exploring the rest of your body before snaking up your stomach to grope at your breasts.

“Fuck,” She whimpers before biting down on your lip. She twists and teases your nipples between her fingers, feasting on the sight of your pathetic writhing.

“Wanda!” Your movements against her thigh become more frantic, so blissed out you couldn’t care about how needy and dumb you must look.

Your hands advance to her biceps, clutching onto her as you try reach the high you so deeply crave. Your heart thuds in your chest, sweat glistening on your forehead and gasping for air. Your tears soak her shirt, hating yourself for giving in to her but also not willing to stop.

“Cum, make a mess for me bunny..” Her hand grabs your chin and holds it still. You foolishly kept trying to turn your head, but your actions cease when her hand moves from your chin to wrap around your throat.

“Look at me when you cum.” She forces her face impossibly closer to yours, jutting out her jaw and admiring the sparkling tears falling from your eyes. Her breathing becomes ragged listening to your whines and sobs, the throb between her legs intensifying.

“I don’t want to..”

“I don’t care if you want to or not. I won’t let you move until you do.”

Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll to the back of your head, her cruel words somehow pushing you over the edge. Everything becomes white, your thighs shake and your body tenses. Waves of pleasure crash down on you, the euphoric feeling pulsing through you from head to toe.

She eagerly watches you fall apart from your first climax, knowing that she’s not even halfway done with you. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes struggling to stay open and arms spread over the couch.

She carefully pushes her knee further into your pussy, your pleas and protests only making her more excited for what she plans next.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, angel.”

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

[smartkookiee]

Vampire Boy || Ch.1 - jjk.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 𓆩♱𓆪 pairing: vampire!Jungkook x human!Reader (afab, she/her) 𓆩♱𓆪 content: 18+ explicit content, established relationship au 𓆩♱𓆪 chapter warning/tags: golden retriever vampire boyfriend jk, "27"jk 26 reader, vampire activities, blood drinking, fluff, some angst, SMUT, blood kink?? Oh they are so in love its disgusting, so much domesticity in this chapter, I love them I'm sobbing, VAMPIRE NEW YEARS, big gatsby like party, this party is crazy extravagant, like blood and money galore, little bit of gore this chapter (nothing serious), drinking, swearing, intoxication, crying, reader is a librarian, vampire history and vampire war, angsty moment for yoongi and monique, yoongi history, Jungkook really likes your blood, my own vampire rules??, Jungkook is so whipped, y/n is a little bit of a brat, they are soooo down bad for each other, vampire!Jimin, vampire!Jin, vampire!Hoseok, vampire!Yoongi, other vampire characters (the girlies) unprotected sex (Jungkook literally cannot get y/n pregnant), cream pie, fingering, dick riding, so much kissing, hickies (sort of), blood drinking during sex, god they cannot stay off each other like CHILL (lmao), discussion of feeding on animals and people, this chapter is LOOONNGGG but so fun and I loved writing it 𓆩♱𓆪word count: 23.8K 𓆩♱𓆪Series Masterlist𓆩♱𓆪 𓆩♱𓆪 Next Chapter𓆩♱𓆪 𓆩♱𓆪If you want to be added to the tag list comment on this post!! fic crossposted to ao3 𓆩♱𓆪a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO WAITED SO PATIENTLY FOR THIS. I HOPE THIS FIRST CHAPTER IS TO YOUR LIKING IF YOU SEE ANY MISTAKES NO YO DIDN'T<3 ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Fumbling with your keys, you tried to wedge them between your fingers, your pocketknife a reassuring weight in your other pocket. It was late, dark, and winter had a way of making everything eerily silent.

Tonight, you were in charge of closing the library. Your coworkers lived in opposite directions, leaving you to navigate the cold streets alone. Two routes lay before you: the long way, well-lit but littered with rowdy bar-goers and men who were a little too comfortable getting a little too close, or the shortcut through the dimly lit alley but was a straight shot to the other side. One was safer but full of potential annoyances; the other was just outright stupid.

Cold nipped at your exposed skin, and you shivered. You could already hear the noise from up the street and you didn’t have the energy to fight anyone off tonight. Nope. Not worth it tonight. You turned up the street and ducked into the alley, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself.

Quick and easy. No stopping. Don’t look at anything.

The sound of rain dripping from pipes and rooftops was all you could hear. It masked everything else, which, in hindsight, made it even worse because now you couldn’t hear what you were actively trying to keep an ear out for. Until—

Clang.

Could have been an animal but you knew better though. You could tell, someone was definitely behind you. As light on their feet as they were, you could pick out the steps they took. 

You reach into your pocket. Pulling out the knife. Slipping it open and gripping it tight in your hand. Not your best self defense weapon it works for a good scare. 

“All right let’s get this over with.” You mutter under your breath twisting around on your heel, the person was obscured, the darkness surrounding them. “Might as well show yourself.” 

The dark figure stepped out into the alleyway. Taking a wide stance, placing their hands on their hips. Superhero. You cocked an eyebrow before they spoke in a low rumbling tone, “I’m Batman.” 

Realization settled over you and all of your nerves faded away instantly. 

“Jungkook!” You whined. Folding your knife back up looking down and putting it back in your pocket. His presence appears next to you with a push of the wind around you. 

“Hi baby.” Jungkook snaked his arms around your waist pulling you into him. Kissing you on the cheek. Nudging his nose into your neck and breathing in deeply. Taking in all of your scent. “God you smell good.” 

This is Jungkook, your boyfriend, and evidently a vampire. 

“You know you scared the shit out of me?” You hit him in the shoulder, trying to shove him away but failing. His eyes were wide and his red irises dilated with intent. He had a shit eating grin plastered across his face as well as he pulled his face away from you. 

“I’m sorry. I seem to recall you promising me you wouldn’t cut through dark sketchy alleyways anymore.” He pouts but his tone was serious, you roll your eyes. You manage to pull yourself away and continue down the alley, Jungkook right on your tail. 

“I seem to recall you saying you wouldn’t check up on me like this after work.” You cross your arms over yourself preserving the warmth you had.

 “I was out and I was going to walk with you as a surprise! Then I saw you duck into the alleyway.” His hand looped through one of your arms and around your elbow, pulling it free from its fold. “This century has phones baby, I may be old but I know how it all works. Just call me next time you don’t feel safe.” 

You let out an annoyed sigh, knowing he’s right. “I know I know. It was stupid and I was just trying to make it back quick tonight. I know it was stupid.” 

“I just want you to get home in one piece please.” Jungkook whined, sliding his hand down to wrap his hand in yours. Cold fingertips enveloping your fingers. “I’m also not the only vampire in these parts”

“You’re all cold.” Holding his cold fingers between both of your paths to warm them up. You tease trying to lighten the mood and it seems to work some. A small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Mmm, well I have you now to warm me up.” Not that Jungkook could tell the difference but you definitely could. 

Vampires weren’t just ice cold like in the movies. Their temperature adapted to their surroundings like bottles of water. Fresh blood warmed them up, heaters helped, but they couldn’t actually feel the temperature. Jungkook made an effort to stay warm for you, though. You were hot blooded and having a boyfriend that stayed roughly 20 degrees colder, he tried to warm himself up just enough for you. 

Because of that, that’s how you noticed it; his fingers trembled slightly, which was definitely not a reaction to the cold air outside.

“You’re shaky.” You frowned, the quivering clear.

"...Just a little hungry." Jungkook shook his head, rolling his shoulders, as if he could shake off the craving, bury it beneath sheer willpower.

You frowned, your gaze flicking to his hands. "You get the shakes when you push it too far. You should go get something to eat. I’m sure there are some drunk guys back there you could snack on."

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. "It's fine. I'll eat when we get home."

But you knew better.

You knew the way his pupils dilated too wide the moment he saw you. How his gaze kept flickering to your throat, your wrist, anywhere he could hear it. Feel it. The steady, pulsing rhythm of your heartbeat drumming against his restraint.

Jungkook was careful, always careful. But hunger had a way of gnawing at even the most controlled instincts. You saw it in the way his jaw tensed, how his fingers flexed, how his breath stuttered just slightly every time you moved too close.

He was trying so hard to ignore it.

Trying not to listen to the blood rushing beneath your skin.

Trying not to stare.

“Just take some of mine tonight.” Your voice cut through the noise of your own blood. 

Jungkook perked up a little, eyes dilating further. “Really?” 

“Don’t get too excited, just a little bit. I still have to work tomorrow.” You smirked, dragging him along behind you.

Jungkook tilts his head, “You make it sound like I only see you as a blood bank or something.” He looks down to his feet and a pout on his lips. You stop his train of thought though and bring both of your hands to both of his cheeks.

“I’m teasing.” You rub his cheeks with your thumbs, the coldness seeping away with the warmth you present them. “Take what you need vampire boy. Are you going to sit here and act like you’re not excited about it?” 

He nods his head from side to side, chewing on his bottom lip. A hint of a fang peaking out. “Anything to do with you makes me excited.” 

“Don’t be gross.” You shove him again, but he doesn’t let you go. “Let’s get home and you can take what you need.” 

Jungkook hesitated but you had that determined look in your eyes. You weren’t going to let this go so easily, “Fine, but I’m having some other blood first!”

There was a certain giddiness in your steps now.“Oh I’m gonna sleep so good tonight.”

“That should not be the main reason to let me drink from you!” Jungkook protested and you dragged him along the streets swinging your connected hands. A small giggle falling from your lips.

You really didn’t mind when he drank off of you and you really did get the best sleep after since you would be literally drained. Jungkook never understood how you couldn’t really mind doing it but he didn’t find much he was surprised with you anymore. 

Your ability to just be so cool and casual about the vampire things sometimes still throws him off though. He also loved it that you were just so cool because a lot of people weren’t and have not been. You had a certain curiosity and willingness to learn. 

None of it scared you, it was actually cool to learn that vampires were real. Although you didn’t really initially believe it when Jungkook told you what he was. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Two and a half years ago.

Jungkook was extremely nervous. 

This was a conversation he had meant to have for a long time. A year, maybe longer. He always found reasons to delay it, to avoid it. It wasn’t going to be a problem telling you; he had gotten the go-ahead from everyone. Actually, he’d had it for over a year now, but their approval didn’t matter. What mattered was what came after he told you.

Were you going to freak out? Would you believe him? Would you be mad? 

A million different scenarios had run through his head all week about how this could go. The possibilities gnawed at him so deeply that he had unintentionally been avoiding you. Not responding to texts or calls as quickly. Avoiding hanging out or dates. It was entirely out of character. The longest the two of you had ever gone without seeing each other was five days, and that was only because of a vacation. Now, over a week had passed, and his silence was suffocating you.

You didn’t think anything was wrong but this sudden distance and silence from Jungkook was freaking you out. Had you done something or said something to make Jungkook mad? Did you do something that was upsetting? Was he just not feeling it anymore? You had broached the topic of moving in together recently and you wondered if that had made Jungkook uneasy.  Everything seemed fine up until now. Almost perfect even, then suddenly Jungkook had completely closed himself off. 

You were jumping to the worst conclusions, the biggest one, a break up. Which is what you had been emotionally preparing for. Jungkook was going to dump you and you would just have to deal with that. Easily, you could already feel this would be the biggest break up of your life. The both of you had already shared and done so much together, you couldn’t imagine giving yourself to someone else the same way. 

That’s when Jungkook said he wanted to come over tonight to talk about something, you were doing everything in your power to keep yourself composed. You had been shaking and anxious since you got the text. 

Even worse when you get the knock on the door. 

With your hands still shaking and your heart pounding in your ears. You twist the knob and pull the door open, Jungkook standing with a soft smile on his face standing in front of you. The smile disarming you slightly. 

“Hi.” You said, forcing a smile back as you tried to hide the storm brewing inside you.

“Hi baby.” Jungkook hesitates a step forward, but can sense some unease coming from you. “Can I come in?” 

You hadn’t realized that you hadn’t opened the door enough that he could enter. You clear your throat, “Yes… obviously.” You open the door and step to the side so he can come in. The pet name was a good sign but you are still on edge. 

As he walked in, the silence in your studio apartment felt deafening. Every creak of the floorboards, every breath you took, seemed to echo. You closed the door, the sound reverberating through the small space, amplifying the tension. Jungkook paused in the middle of the room, uncharacteristically quiet, his steps heavy with unspoken words.

You moved around him, trying to read his face. He looked tired and conflicted, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip. He avoided your gaze. With your anxiety spiking, you retreated to the bed, the only real place to sit in your tiny space. Perched on the edge, you gripped the blanket beneath you like a lifeline.

“You wanted to talk?” Your voice was a little hoarse. Feeling like your entire body was about to start shaking. 

Jungkook nodded, his fingers fidgeting as if searching for something to anchor him. “I… I don’t really know how to say this.” He began, pacing back and forth. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long, and now that I’m here, I… I don’t know how.”

The growing sense of dread in your chest felt unbearable. You couldn’t take it anymore. “If…” You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. “If you’re just going to dump me, please don’t drag it out. Just say it.”

Jungkook's eyes widened for a moment, “What?” 

You look at him, seeing the visible confusion on his face. “That’s what this is right? You wanted to talk… and that typically means you want to end things.” 

“Y/N.” Jungkook starts but with a wave of your hand you cut him off. 

“No, it’s okay. If that’s what this is, it's fine, just please don’t make me wait to hear it.” You hadn’t realised but you were digging your fingers into your mattress now. So hard your knuckles had gone white.

Jungkook paused for a second before he laughed, tilting his head. Eyes sympathetic.  “Oh baby.” He comes over and kneels on the ground in front of you. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” You whine, his smile felt almost mocking now. 

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m not breaking up with you.” Jungkook sighs, he reaches and takes your hands in yours. Lacing your fingers together, “I love you, I don’t want to break up.” 

You stay silent, his face has returned to its familiar soft nature versus the stressed one a moment ago. He wasn’t lying. “What?” 

“We aren’t breaking up.” Jungkook kisses both of your hands, soothingly. Holding them close. Watching your face morph from concern to relaxation as his words settle in. “Why would you think that?”

You let out a heavy sigh you didn’t realize you were holding in, “Oh… is asked about moving in. I thought I had freaked you out or something and you were going to bolt.” 

Jungkook laughed some more, just a quiet laugh under his breath. “You really think asking me to move in together freaked me out? We basically live together already.” 

Your mouth falls into a pout, “I don’t know! You were all quiet and weird! I didn’t see you at all this week and you were barely talking to me!” You lay back on your bed, covering your face with your hands. Maybe you did jump to too many conclusions, but all the behavior this week was weird. 

Jungkook gets to his feets but lays down next to you on your bed. “I do have something to tell you and it is serious. I just didn’t know how I wanted to tell you yet so I didn’t want to talk to you until I figured out how I wanted to do it.” He rested his hand on your stomach, wanting to pull you closer but letting you stay where you were. 

You peak between your fingers to look at him. Jungkook's eyes are full of love only for you and no malicious intent behind them. “Is it going to give me a heart attack? Like the one you almost just gave me?” 

Jungkook shakes his head. “Might be confusing but hopefully no heart attack.” 

“Well tell me. I can handle basically any news now.” You both sit back up on your bed. You pull your legs under you so your legs are crossed together. 

Jungkook paused. Now he really had to face the music. You could tell whatever it was really was serious and probably wasn’t going to be easy. He just needed to do it. He just needed to rip the bandaid off and say it. Get it off his chest. There was no easy way, and he would spend a lifetime explaining if he needed to. 

“Okay.” He stayed quiet for a moment, “I-... shit this is hard.” 

You watched as he figured this out in his mind. You could tell he was really jumping through hoops. You, trying to break the tension, say, “You’re not pregnant right? I’m not ready to be a dad.”

You laugh at your own joke but Jungkook just rolls his eyes with a smile. Knowing you aren’t serious and just trying to make this easier. Jungkook continues, “This is serious!”

“Sorry. Take your time. You know you can tell me anything.” You say with sincerity, reaching a hand to rub his arm. 

“I know.” He nodded, “Everything… will be different. Everything will change.” 

“Okay, now you are really making me nervous.” You shift uncomfortably on the bed, you really hoped something wasn’t wrong. Like he was sick or something.

He looks between your eyes for a moment, the whole nature of the relationship you two had may just crumble in a moment. Everything that you knew would suddenly be unknown. That terrified him. He couldn’t predict what would happen next. He can say everything perfect and could be just right and still not know what you would say next. 

Just say it.

“I’m… I’m a vampire.” Jungkook whispers.

Your eyebrows knit together not fully hearing him, “What?”

Jungkook takes in a long long deep breath, meeting your eyes. “I’m a vampire.”

Silence fell over the room. Neither of you said a thing, you were just staring between Jungkook's eyes. Trying to find a lie. Trying to find a reason? Because this surely had to be a joke. He had to be joking. 

“Honey.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee for a moment. You reflexively pull it back. 

“Wow.” You say, a small shake to your head. A certain mistiness to your eyes. “I’ve heard a lot of excuses but this really takes the cake.” You stand up from the bed back facing to Jungkook. His face contorted into concern watching you. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Jungkook moves so he’s sitting on the side of the bed now. 

You turn around, clear hurt in your eyes. “You know it actually would have been kinder to just dump me versus saying something insane to get me to dump you. If that’s what you want then—”

Jungkook stands for a moment, pausing your train of thought. “I’m-I’m not lying though.” 

“Yeah, right. I’m a vampire. That’s rich.” You start laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Trying to overwhelm the pain forming in your chest. 

“Have I ever given you a reason to think I’m lying? Have I ever given you any reason to doubt me?” Jungkook steps toward you and you stand your ground. You don’t answer him but just shake your head. You looked angry and so he was thinking of anything he could do. “Why would I suddenly make up a wild story to get you to break up with me?” 

You let out a noise of annoyance,“Because you wanted an easy way out, I don’t know!” A small huff trailing behind your words. 

Jungkook places both of his hands on your shoulders, “Y/N this is real. I’m telling you the truth. I love you, I would never lie to you about something like this. I am… a vampire. I’m not trying to make an excuse, this is real.” His grip was tight on you, tighter than you had ever felt before. Unnaturally so.

Nothing in the way he was speaking seemed like a lie. No malice or farce, which was the part that was confusing you the most. It was completely sincere. As far as you had known he had never lied to you. That little voice of self preservation was still ringing in your mind though, telling you to get out. To run. “If… Well… Then… Then prove it.” 

“What?”

“If you’re a vampire then there are surely ways to prove it… So prove it.” You look into his eyes now. If he had any chance of saving this it was now, he had to show you everything or else you would be done. Which he was more than ready to do.

Jungkook’s mouth did move but you very distinctly heard him say, Okay. Like an echo inside your mind you almost couldn’t convince yourself he hadn’t just said it.

He brought his hands up to his eyes, pinching something, contacts. He took them from both eyes, pulling out a contact lens case from a pocket and placing them back in respectively. Jungkook lifted his head again to reveal not the dark brown ones you were so used to but ones that were a deep crimson. Could almost look brown in certain lights, but they were definitely red. Then Jungkook opened his mouth and you watched as two sets of fangs detracted down over where his k9’s were. Two long and what you could only imagine were incredibly sharp fangs.

Jungkook just took in your reaction, you blinked a few times standing in silence. No change in expression to show what you were thinking or feeling. The sweet boy you had come to know and love had transformed in front of your eyes. Although his new features seemed to initiate a fight or flight response in you, Jungkook could sense it. He tried to reach out to you but you flinched, just enough for him to notice. 

He wanted desperately to bring you closer, but he needed to let you take it all in.

“I know. It’s… a lot. I just couldn’t keep it a secret anymore—” 

“This is so cool!” Your face morphed into a look of complete fascination. Voice shooting up and octave. Your sudden change in demeanor threw Jungkook off, you took quick steps toward him and suddenly you were pushing him to sit on the bed again. You fingers swiftly move into his mouth holding his lips up away from his gums, inspecting his teeth. 

Jungkook sat dumbfounded and eyes wide for a moment, he wasn’t prepared nor expecting this kind of outburst. You were gripping onto each side of his head, Moving it from side to side so you could get a good look at them. They were pretty big and seemed to just come out of nowhere from the roof of his mouth. Completely replaced where his regular teeth were. They were pretty and almost seemed to fit him more naturally than his regular teeth. Your thumbs were still pulling at his lips revealing his gums, viewing where the fangs hide. 

“So these just retract and detract? Do you do it on command? Does it hurt?” You say as your lean your eyes close into his mouth viewing the anatomy. Jungkook stifled a laugh because he wasn’t really able to get words out with your thumbs in his mouth. You traced one of them with your thumbs, but accidentally pricked yourself on the end of it. “Okay, sharper than I thought.” 

The smell of your blood being so close to Jungkook's nose made his pupils dilate instantly, you watched it happen but Jungkook kept himself still. It was always a natural reaction to blood. 

“Careful.” Jungkook pushed your hands away while holding your wrists in his hands. “They hide up inside of my skull and I can do it on command. It doesn’t hurt anymore though.” 

“Show me again.” You smile, a small hint of anticipation lacing your voice. “Please?” 

Jungkook nods, opening his mouth. He releases one of your hands so you can push back his lip again with your thumb. As Jungkook pushes his fangs in and out of their place and you can visibly see how they move up and down. You were completely mesmerized by the action. Just watching his fangs seems to take their rightful place in his mouth. It was so weird to watch but also extremely fascinating. You let his lip go at a certain point once your curiosity had been satisfied. Jungkook traced the inside of his lips with his tongue to comfort the muscle that had been forced back.

You found your fascination had moved from his teeth back to his eyes. “You wore color contacts this whole time?” Your hands found their way to his cheeks, looking between his eyes. Tracing, with your eyes, the new unfamiliar color that lined them. These were his real eyes. 

“Can’t exactly walk around with red eyes without some suspicion or stares.” Jungkook smiled, he could relax again, placing his hands on the side of your body as you just observed him. No, inspected him, like you were in a lab. He didn’t mind, you could ask him anything and he will tell you whatever you want. 

You were still stuck on his eyes. They were such a dark red, velvety. They suited him well. The same ones you had looked at so many times but now you were actually seeing them. “They’re beautiful.” 

“Really?” His heart felt like it skipped a beat in his chest, your first complement of his true appearance.

“I love them. They’re… I don’t even have the words. They’re… you. This is you.” Because this is the first time you really were seeing him, seeing him for everything. You thought you knew him before but it was all complete now. 

“This is me.” Jungkook whispered, a weight finally being taken away from him. No more hiding. 

You just stand there quietly staring at him, imprinting this moment in your memory. Taking in every detail. But you couldn’t help but have a million different things also running through your mind. A million different questions and a million thoughts about what this means now. 

Jungkook could see you running through every question in your mind, just waiting for you to ask. He had nothing in his head though, nothing he wanted to think about. You were here, and you weren’t mad. You were here and you were excited. You were still here and you weren’t sending him away. 

“I have just… so many things I want to ask.” You rock a little bit on your feet. Anticipation eating you from the inside out. 

“Ask anything. I’ll tell you whatever you want.” Jungkook jumped on the end of your sentence, eager, insistent. He wanted to give you every answer. He would give you everything.

“Well… uhh… I don’t know. Um.” Your mind flipped through every vampire story you had ever heard, sifting through myths and legends, trying to figure out where to start. “Okay. Speed? Strength? Is that real, or just a fairy tale?”

“That’s all real.” Jungkook said without hesitation. “I’ve actually been faking straining when I pick up heavy things for you. It doesn’t feel like anything.” He shrugged, as if admitting to a harmless prank.

“Really? Show me!” Excitement bubbled up in your chest, making you bounce slightly on your heels.

Jungkook grinned, standing from the bed with a casual ease. He turned, scanning your apartment, his sharp gaze flicking over every object. His eyes landed on your massive wooden dresser. The one that had nearly killed you when you first moved in, requiring the help of two friends and a ridiculous amount of cursing just to get it through the door.

Without hesitation, Jungkook strode toward it. He crouched slightly, slipping both hands beneath the base, but there was no visible effort. No tensed muscles, no grunt of exertion; just an easy, almost lazy movement as he lifted it clean off the floor. The dresser, heavy enough to crush a human, might as well have been a stack of pillows in his grip.

“See?” He turned his head toward you, lifting it up and down a few times as if he were curling a dumbbell at the gym. He even tossed it lightly into the air, barely an inch, just enough to make your stomach lurch with the thought of it crashing down, before catching it again.

Your mouth fell open.

"Holy shit.”

Jungkook grinned and set the dresser back in place with an almost exaggerated gentleness, as if it were made of glass. His hands lingered on it for a moment before he turned back to you, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“This is so cool! I never have to lift anything ever again.” You said, your mind still struggling to process what you had just seen. “I’ll just have you do it.”

“Oh yeah?” He was suddenly in front of you, closing the space in an instant, his presence comforting despite what you thought vampires were supposed to be. “Am I your pack mule now?”

“Only for the really heavy stuff.” You teased, tilting your head up at him.

Jungkook chuckled, his fangs barely flashing as his smile grew. Then his hands came up, cupping your face with a gentleness that contradicted the sheer, terrifying strength you had just witnessed. His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones, grounding you in the moment.

“Ask me more.” He said, his voice softer now. “Please. I want to answer all of your questions. No matter how long it takes.” 

Your heart pounded against your ribs.

“This is just so insane. You really are… a vampire.” The words left your lips like an exhale, the weight of them heavy in the air.

Jungkook just smiled, his hands never leaving your face. “Yeah,” He murmured. “and you’re not scared.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an observation, one that made something deep inside you shift.

Because he was right. You weren’t scared. You were fascinated.

“For how long?” You asked, studying him carefully. “Are you actually twenty-seven?”

Jungkook’s lips pressed together for a moment. Then he shook his head, his eyes briefly flicking away before he forced himself to meet your gaze again. “I’m… much older.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. “How much older?”

“Five hundred and twenty-three.”

Silence.

Your mouth parted slightly, your mind struggling to wrap itself around the number. Five hundred. And twenty-three. Your eyes widened as the realization fully sank in, and before you could stop yourself, a small, disbelieving laugh bubbled out of you. You clapped your hands over your mouth.

“Oh my god.” Another breathy laugh. “You’re so old!”

Jungkook’s expression immediately twisted into one of betrayal, his brows knitting together. “Hey!”

You dropped your hands, grinning at his wounded look. “Cradle robber.”

“Stop.”

“Sorry, I just didn’t realize I was dating a man with both feet literally in the grave!”

“Y/N!” Jungkook groaned, his head dropping forward in exaggerated defeat. He pouted, lips forming the perfect shape of a complaint. You giggled, the sound light and unbothered, before reaching up to pull his face closer. You pressed small, playful kisses along his jaw, his cheekbones, the tip of his nose. Each one chasing away the wounded puppy look on his face. Replaced with a crooked smile. 

“I just needed to get it out! I promise it’s fine!” You laugh some more to Jungkook's dismay, but you settle for a moment and another thought creeps in. “Is that strange? You’ve seen the world change so many times.” You rub your hands up and down his arms in a soothing motion.

Jungkook’s hands found your waist, his thumbs brushing absentmindedly along your sides. “It’s funny… it’s just normal now.” His voice softened, more thoughtful. “I think I’ve liked this century the best so far. I miss certain things about the past, but I also don’t.” His dark eyes searched yours, as if debating whether to say more. “It’s exciting to see what will become of humans.”

A strange, quiet feeling settled over you. You couldn’t even begin to imagine it. Seeing wars begin and end. Cities rise and fall. Watching humanity evolve and adapt, century after century, while you remained unchanged.

You swallowed. “Are you the only one?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “No.”

You leaned in a little, your fingers tightening slightly on his arms. “How many are there?”

“In the world?” He tilted his head, considering the scope of your question.

“Sure.” You shrugged, though that wasn’t exactly what you meant.

He exhaled, brows furrowing as he thought. “Uhhh, maybe a few thousand? Not an exact number, but there are more than you’d think.”

“Huh. Anyone we know?” You narrow your eyes, already suspecting the answer. There’s no way Jungkook is the only one in your friend group.

He hesitates for a moment, then nods. “Yes.”

“Who?” You demand, your voice rising slightly.

“Jimin… and Jin… and Hobi.” Jungkook starts, then hesitates again, as if debating whether to continue.

“I knew it!” You leap to your feet, nearly toppling over in your excitement. Jungkook reaches out to steady you, his hands firm on your arms as you wobble on the uneven mattress. “The first time I met Jin, I was like, ‘If there’s anyone in this world who’s a vampire, it’s that guy!’”

Jungkook chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think he told me about that.”

Your enthusiasm falters for a moment. “Wait, told you? I don’t think I told anyone that.”

“Yeah… He read your thoughts.”

“What!” You exclaim, your voice jumping an octave.

“Yeah… we can read thoughts.” Jungkook admits, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Oh my god.” You collapse back onto the bed, your hands covering your face. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Why?” Jungkook leans over you, his face hovering above yours, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

You sit up on your elbows, glaring at him. “I’ve… not exactly had the purest thoughts about you… in the presence of our friends…” Jungkook lets his head drop with a laugh, his shoulders shaking. You groan and push him away with your foot against his chest. “This is mortifying! If any of them read my thoughts, they know what a freak I am!”

“I don’t think they need to read your thoughts to know that.” Jungkook teases, dodging your half-hearted kick.

“Jungkook!” You shout, grabbing a pillow from on your bed, throwing it at him.

“What!” He laughs, catching the pillow effortlessly. Then let it fall to the floor. 

“This is the worst part about all of this!” You wail, flopping back onto the bed. Your melodrama filling the room but it seems to not phase Jungkook whatsoever.

“No one cares!” He reassures you, sitting down beside you.

“I do!” You insist, covering your face again.

“If anyone would care, it might be Monique.” Jungkook adds casually, as if he wasn’t dropping another bombshell.

“What?” You bolt upright again, your eyes wide.

“Yeah… uhh, that was the other thing. Monique is a vampire too.”

“What?”

“Oh and your friend Rehna… also a vampire. Young but she’s one too.” 

“I think this may literally be too much information.” You mutter, staring aimlessly up at your ceiling. Your voice quieter now. “So has everyone just been laughing at me for not knowing?” 

“Not at all.” Jungkook says quickly, his tone soft. He lays down next to you and reaches an arm over you, pulling you into him. “They all love you. It’s just in our nature to hide what we are. It doesn’t always go well when humans find out.”

“Am I going to get in trouble for knowing?” You ask, turning your head to face him. A sudden worry creeping into your voice.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowns.

“Well, okay, not to reference movie vampires, but typically there are rules for telling humans. You either have to turn me, or kill me, or something. I don’t know.”

Jungkook blinked. Then, to your surprise, he laughed—a soft, rich sound that made the knot in your chest loosen just a little. He shook his head, “No. There are no rules or laws for what we do or who we tell. We have traditions, but no laws.”

“Okay, so I’m not going to get hunted down by, like, a vampire government now?” you ask, only half-joking.

“No. Maybe by other vampires, but that’s for food. You probably stink like me anyways, so no one will touch you.” Jungkook said it so casual as if he didn’t need to explain what that meant.

“I stink?” You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, glaring at him.

“It’s more like a scent.” Jungkook explains, his voice softening. “Vampires have their own, and humans have their own.”

“Do I smell bad?” You ask, suddenly self-conscious.

“Not at all.” Jungkook says, his voice dropping to a low. “To me, you smell amazing.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down and you shove his shoulder away from you in annoyance.

“Is that because I’m food? Technically?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes and no.” He admits. Rolling back your direction. “I’m in love with you, so I always want to be around you and near you. You also have the same blood type I did when I was human, so that draws me to you.”

“Well, at least I don’t smell bad.” You mutter, crossing your arms.

“Well, Hobi thinks you smell bad.” Jungkook adds with a grin. “You have his least favorite blood type.”

“Oh, well, that’s just great.” You reply dryly.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Jungkook reassures you. “It just means he’s less likely to snack on you.”

“Okay, wait.” You say, holding up a hand. “So you can smell blood, read minds, and have super strength and speed. Do you guys have other powers?”

“That’s where the differences start to come in.” Jungkook explains. “Every vampire has different skills beyond those. Some develop early, some with age and time, and some with practice.”

“What’s yours?” You ask, intrigued. He had to have something and you knew it had to be good.

“Mine is… sort of similar to a siren.” He says, his voice taking on a mysterious edge.

“Are sirens real too?” You press, leaning a bit too close, “Not the point, continue.” 

“I have to sing for it to work.” Jungkook hesitates for a moment but then explains. “It sort of casts a spell on the person I’m targeting. It’s mostly for luring in easy prey, but I can use it for other reasons too—alter memories, issue commands, or access knowledge about the person and their body. The person never remembers they’ve been affected by it afterward.”

You pause, a thought occurring to you. “Have you ever used it on me?”

Jungkook nods, his expression turning serious and he chewed on his lips for a moment.. “...Just once. It was on that trip we took months ago. I had to bring food for myself, and it was more than usual. More than would be easy to hide or explain. So I… used it to alter your memory of the food. Instead of blood bags, you remember regular food.”

You paused realizing the weight of what he was just telling you. Although a small occurrence, he had to alter a part of your memories. You think back on it and try to see if maybe you did remember anything different, the only other thing you really remember from that trip is Jungkook getting extreme food poisoning. 

“I wasn’t ready to tell you yet.” Jungkook continues, his voice tinged with guilt. “I wanted to stay… us a little longer because I was so afraid of how it would change things. I got so sick the night I did it because I felt so guilty. I promised when we started dating I would never use any of my powers on you…”

“How come?” You ask softly.

“Because… I knew whatever this was, it was… I don’t know. What we have is good… and is like one of the only good things I’ve found in a long time.” He says, his eyes locking onto yours. “I wanted it all to be real—no powers, no manipulation. Just me… and just you. No tricks.”

You both sit in silence looking at each other, before you completely breeze by his small moment of vulnerability. “You said you had food poisoning.” You recall, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It felt like it at the time.” Jungkook nods, thinking back on it. He really did get sick to his stomach. The guilt ade bringing all that blood almost a complete waste. “I felt so guilty because I never want to hide things from you. Ever.”

“I’m sorry you had to do that.” You say, reaching out to take his hand.

“No, you don’t need to apologize.” He squeezes your hand gently. “I just wish I’d told you sooner. If I’d known it would go this well, I probably would have told you in the first month.”

“I might have been scared in the first month.” You admit with a small laugh. “Might have run away out of self preservation.” 

“That’s why I waited.” He says, smiling softly. “But then I kept waiting and waiting for the right moment and I got more anxious.”

“Well… now I know.” You say, laying on your side next to him again. Your faces so close together, 

“Now you know.” He echoes, wrapping an arm around you.

“How do you eat? What do you eat? Human? Animal?” You ask after a moment, your curiosity resurfacing.

“Human blood and animal blood. Animal blood more often.” He explains. “Lots of vampires work at blood banks.”

“Wow, shocker.” you say dryly. “Vampires working with blood? Insane.”

“I know, news of the millennia.” Jungkook replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm as you both burst into laughter.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Present Day 

That felt like an entire lifetime ago now. 

Since then, you’d learned practically everything there was to know about vampires—the myths, the truths, the strange little quirks no one ever talked about. The things that were never written in books, never whispered in horror stories. Jungkook had been an open book from the moment he told you. Just the truth, plain and simple, dropped into conversation like he was telling you his favorite color.

At first, it had been surreal. The idea that vampires weren’t just creatures of fiction but real, living. Well, undead, beings who walked among humans undetected. That the man you had been falling in love with had walked through centuries, watched history unfold firsthand. It made your head spin. But never scary. Jungkook was still Jungkook. He still left wet towels on the bathroom floor. He still made the world’s worst coffee. He still held your hand in crowded places and kissed your forehead when you were too tired to function.

The only big difference in your relationship was that you couldn’t really eat together. For obvious reasons. 

Also the sun thing, not a huge problem like people think. They can be in the sun but if they don’t eat the same day they will die. They can be out longer the older they get. They don’t immediately disengage though.

You had barely scratched the surface even after all this time. 

After too long in the cold, the two of you finally reached your apartment. The moment you stepped onto your floor, you spotted something taped to the front door. Your name and Jungkook’s were written in elegant, swirling calligraphy, the gold ink shimmering under the hallway light.

“Already that time of year.” You plucked the envelope from the door, holding it up as Jungkook unlocked it.

He barely glanced at it before sighing. “We should ditch.”

You snorted. “Oh, I’m sure that’ll go over great. Centuries of tradition thrown out the window.”

“We could start our own tradition.” He offered, wiggling his eyebrows as he pushed the door open.

You shook your head, already slipping inside. “And when Jimin hunts us down and drags us there himself, then what?”

Jungkook grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, We run faster. More like he’ll run faster.

You ignored him, already peeling the envelope open. The paper was thick and luxurious—the kind that felt expensive—and it smelled faintly of pine, because of course Jimin thought of every last detail. The invitation itself was beautiful, decorated with intricate gold and green accents, the lettering impossibly flawless. Jimin never just sent invitations. He crafted them, turning them into little works of art.

Jimin’s Annual New Vampire Soirée.

The famed New Years party. 

You shrugged off your jacket, letting the day slip away with it, and—without needing to ask—Jungkook took it from you, hanging it neatly in the small coat closet by the door.

“I’ve attended just about every single one of these things.” He groaned, toeing off his shoes and trailing behind you. “I think he can live without us for one year.”

By every single one, he meant a few hundred.

“Oh, come on.” You teased, skimming the details. “It’s the only time we get to really dress up. I like you in a suit.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “That’s your main selling point?”

“Duh.” You smirk, it also gives you an excuse to wear something nice which is rare these days. “Because then I get to take it off after. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.” 

Jungkook sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Fine. But if Jimin ropes me into another game of charades, I’m taking you down with me.”

“Deal.”

You both round your way to the kitchen. Your place together was very nice, mostly funded by Jungkook. You had two bedrooms that stretched up a hallway, one for the two of you and one for a small office the two of you curated. A large and beautiful kitchen that is really only used by you. In a high building with beautiful views. 

You pull out a stool at the island. Jungkook pulling out a few bags of blood. They were donation bags like you would see at a blood drive. Which means he had elected to have human blood tonight vs animal. Jungkook didn’t really mind eating in front of you anymore. The first few weeks you two lived together you couldn’t stomach it, but now it was normal. 

You’d asked him before what it was like. Vampires could still eat real food but it doesn’t fill them up or provide the same benefits it does for humans. They need blood or they won’t survive. It’s food, like anything you eat. They have cravings for it and some taste better than others. Sometimes they needed it more often and sometimes they could go without it. Jungkook had recently been trying to go longer and longer without it but it had been proving difficult. He could usually feed once a week and be okay, but he’s been trying to push for two weeks. 

Who would have thought that having a human partner would make that difficult? 

Jungkook opened one of the pouches and he just sucked on the dispensing tube like it was a fruit pouch of some kind. The way he reacted made him act like it was delicious, you were always curious but knew it would not have the same effect for you. Would probably be gross or your body would naturally make you throw it up. Still, your curiosity always lingered. 

Jungkook noticed you staring at him out of the corner of his vision as he was looking at his phone and eating his meal. “You’re next, be patient.” He teased. 

“That’s not!… that’s not why I was staring at you. Can’t I just look at my boyfriend?” You cross your arms, putting up your fake defenses. 

“Always. You just look like you want to ask me something.” He turns his focus to you, still drink from the pouch. 

You pause for a moment, “What was it like the first time…?” 

“Eating?” 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever asked.” You lean on your elbows on the counter. 

It’s been quite some time but Jungkook does remember it. “It was warm… but sweet. Like candy but if the sugar high hit instantly. It was like I was taking my first breath.” 

“Was it weird?” 

“No… Strangely. It felt completely normal. Weird as it sounds. It was like my mind had completely rewired itself away from regular food. Blood was all I needed.” Jungkook shrugged, it really was night and day. One day he wanted human food and the next he couldn’t care less about it. 

“You weren’t afraid of it?” 

Jungkook nodded, “Of course… but unfortunately because of our nature you have to move past it quickly… You had to kill to eat. We didn’t have the convenience of having blood banks so we didn’t have to kill.” 

“I didn’t think about that… no preservation.” 

Jungkook eyed you for a moment. “What? Thinking about trying it?” He waved the pouch in your direction, the blood sloshing around in the bag making your stomach turn.

“Well most of the time you make it look good, so my mind wanders. I know it’ll be shit for me.” You rest your chin on one of your palms. Jungkook finished off one of the pouches. Teeth stained red and his pupils were no longer dilated like before. Which was the usual once his hunger had been satisfied.

Jungkook smiles, swiping his bottom lip to catch a drop of blood. He starts on the second one, drinking this one much faster than the first. You can tell he doesn’t like it very much from the face he makes. He rounds his way around the counter, to you. Behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as he drank. One of his arms snaking around you. Your back pressed into his chest. 

Although the packs were cold, Jungkook’s body heats up just a little bit when eating. Making him almost feel human. 

“Bad?” You ask as he sets down the second pack on the counter. His tongue poked out his cheeks as he wiped his teeth clean of the bitter taste. 

“Just bitter. Not great.” Jungkook’s sighs wrapping his other arm around you now. His nose is buried into your neck now. 

“You know where I know there will be really good blood?” You muse and Jungkook just rolls his eyes. “Jimin’s party.” 

“I’d still rather spend my time with you.” He places a kiss right on your jaw where your neck meets. “Alone.” 

“Hmm maybe next time.” You rest the side of your head against his. You both rocked from side to side slightly. “Plus you get to have me all the time.” 

“I know I know.” He places another kiss further down your neck. His grip is tightening around you. 

Jungkook was barely listening though, your steady heartbeat was pounding in his ear. Yes he had quenched his thirst quite a bit but he still needed yours. The fact that you had his same blood type made it incredibly difficult to resist on days when he was especially hungry because your blood is all he would want. If only he could feed off of you whenever he wanted and it wouldn't kill you quickly. Still, he could hear the pulsing vein in your neck calling out for him. He was usually pretty good about blocking out this kind of thing around you but tonight was especially difficult.  

“Just do it.” You whisper, you can feel him getting anxious and a little twitchy. You knew he wanted to eat. “Go ahead.” 

Jungkook shakes his head, “Not yet.” 

“Jungkook, you and I both know you haven’t eaten enough.” You pull out of his grip and twist around in your seat to look at him. “Free meal might as well be written on my forehead.” 

“Better not be. I’m the only one allowed to eat from you.” He smiled, both of his hands running up and down your thighs now. 

Before you could get a word in, his lips were on yours. One of his hands coming up to cup your jaw. The kiss has a certain intensity to it and you match Jungkook’s energy in kind. His tongue sliding into your mouth and your taste buds being met with a iron like flavor. A little off putting at first but you push past it. It wasn’t the first time you had tasted the aftermath of a feeding before. 

When you were first dating Jungkook would wash his mouth out pretty good before he would see you so that it wouldn’t happen. Not exactly easy to explain why he tastes like his mouth was bleeding when making out. 

Your hands found their way to the bottom of his shirt and your hands glided up his abdomen. Warm hands meeting cold skin. Your legs widen to let him stand between them. You were leaning back against the counter, the corner digging into your back some but you didn’t mind. Jungkook’s hand on your jaw moves it’s way to the back of your neck and into your hair. He gives it a light tug which elicits a small sound from you. A small whine which is exactly what he wanted 

You break away from him for a second, breathless. “Jungkook… You have to eat.”

Jungkook kisses you again, a little sloppier this time. Before pulling back, “Not yet my love.” He mumbles against your skin kissing his way down your throat, his other hand tracing the inside of your thigh.

You sigh in content leaning into him, “Y-You get a little intense when you’re like this though.”

 Jungkook pulls back away from you, kissing you again. Soft and sweet. Before breaking away. “I’m alright. I just missed you so I want to have my way with you now.” 

“Oh is that right?” You tilt your head to the side, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “You know you see me everyday?” 

“It’s not enough.” Jungkook whispers, and kisses you again. 

You bring your hands up to either side of his cheeks and drink him in. “You’re cheesy.” You mumble against his lips. 

Jungkook brings both of his hands down and tucks them underneath you to lift you from the stool. The sudden motion makes you yelp. “You love it.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” You say nonchalantly like you were trying to play it off. Jungkook just rolls his eyes, keeping a tight grip on you. 

Before you could think, your body was pressed into Jungkook's. As the kitchen and hall blurred past your vision as if you were in a car. Jungkook ran the both of you into your bedroom. Your hair instantaneously a mess around your face.

“Jungkook!” You whined, he let you fall from his grip onto the bed. You immediately smoothed your hair away from your face. “I hate when you do that.” 

Jungkook is standing at the end of your bed, pulling his shirt over the top of his head. “I have a few ways I can make it up to you.” 

“I hope so.” You bite down on your bottom lip but a huge smile still on your face. Jungkook couldn’t help but find you absolutely intoxicating. 

Jungkook kneels in front of the bed, “God you’re beautiful.”

His hands climbed their way up your thighs and under your shirt to help lift it over your head in a swift motion. Discarding it to the floor. Your hands come down to unbutton your pants and Jungook slides them off of your legs. Jungkook with ease, pulling your hips to the end of the bed. Although to Jungkook it felt like nothing. Anytime he moved you you could tell the strength he held. It was clear that he was intentionally holding back. 

Jungkook’s face came down between your legs, kissing his way up your left thigh. You watch him for a moment, you could see his eyes dilate for a second and a hint of his fangs grow from his mouth. In that instant one of his fangs punctured the skin of your thigh. 

You gasp in surprise. A little blood escaped before Jungkook licks over the wound, closing it again. Jungkook's eyes closed and his breath raged. Your blood is like ecstasy on his tongue.

“Honey, a little warning next time.” You pout.

“Sorry baby.” He looks up to you with this puppy dog expression. “I just needed a taste.” 

“Okay, it just hurts. Easier on the neck. I’m used to it.” You bring your hand down to rub his cheek. He turns his face to kiss your palm. 

“So you’re saying I need to bite you more places more often.” He smirks and you just hum. 

“Sounds good to me.” You giggle and Jungkook's face softens. A look more of adoration.

“Whatever you want, pretty.” His head dips back down between your legs. You lay back on the bed. Jungkook hooking your underwear in between his teeth and pulling it down your legs.

He presses a feather light kiss to your clit before kissing all the way up your stomach, then chest, and then kissing you on the mouth. Sliding his tongue into your mouth with ease. Jungkook's fingers were wasting no time before he was rubbing your clit with one of his hands. Slow and tantalizing circles. You bit down on Jungkook’s lip pulling it back before letting him fall back into place. 

“I’m supposed to do that.” Jungkook fake whined, his fingers tracing the outside of your entrance which was dripping. Waiting for him to touch you. 

“Whoops.” You bring your arm to rest above your head. “Instructions unclear.” 

He kisses you again, before pulling away to kiss and then suck on your neck. Not feeding, just sucking to give you a regular old hickey. Taking two of his fingers to and sliding them deep into your dripping pussy. Reaching and curling his fingers to touch that spongy spot inside you that can easily make you cum. 

“Fuck just like that.” You moan, your eyes screwing shut. Your knees coming up in reaction to the pleasure. Jungkook moved to a different spot on your neck and left another barely visible mark. He had seen you cum and had you exactly like this hundreds of times now but he still could not get enough. He pulled away from you to look down at you again.

But sex was always a little complicated. Your blood moving and your heart pounding is almost deafening. Especially today he was still hungry and his mind still reeled with needing your blood. Spinning as he could hear the blood in your body pumping quickly with every quickened breath you took because of every touch he gave you. He hadn’t even realised, his fangs had reappeared in his mouth. He was beginning to drool. 

You open your eyes again and you see it. He was dazed, eyes completely dilated again. “Jungkook.” You say, tracing in line down his face. “Come back here.” 

Jungkook closed his eyes,  shaking his head. His fangs returned back in his mouth. Eyes returning to normal. “Sorry baby.” 

He pulls his fingers out and begins to rub your clit from side to side. You were getting close quickly, but you needed a little more. 

“You didn’t eat enough.” You raise an eyebrow to him. 

“I thought I did.” He rests his forehead against your, your breathing mingling with your lips so close together. “Not enough I guess.” 

You give him a quick peck on the lips before pulling back slightly. “Just a little longer honey.” You moan. You both knew if he drank from you now, the night ends here because you will be too dizzy and too tired to continue. 

“I’m fine, my love. You just focus on cumming on my fingers just how I like.” Jungkook leans up and away from you, connecting his mouth with one of your nipples. Licking around the bud, sucking and slowly pushing you closer to the edge. 

“Jungkook.” You moan, and Jungkook dips his fingers back between your legs. Pumping them in and out of you relentlessly. Wanting to get you over the edge, and blocking anything else out. 

Jungkook pulls his mouth away from you. His teeth chatter from hunger instinctually and he has to shake his head back to a normal state. He was so hard inside of his pants he could have cum just like this. “Oh you’re doing so good.” 

“God I need you to fuck me.” You whine, grinding your hips into Jungkook’s hand. He follows along with your rhythm, and continues to fuck you with his fingers. It really was not enough for you.

“Oh yeah? How bad?” 

“I’m serious please fuck me Jungkook.” You bring your hands up under his shoulders and around his back, digging your nails into him. 

“Fuck.” He exhaled, “I really want to make you cum like this though.” 

“Please baby, I need it. Please please please.” Between each please you kiss him. Jungkook chasing after your mouth after every kiss. Both of your hearts pounding in his ears, dancing together as one. 

“Yes… Yes, whatever you want.” Jungkook, with some hesitation retreats from you. His hand pulls out of you and you let out a small moan but know it’ll be replaced soon. Jungkook stands and begins to discard his pants and then his boxers with little time.

You stand up and kiss him again, before spinning the both of you around and sitting him on the bed. He was fully erected and you honestly needed to fuck him badly. You wanted him to fill up every inch of you. Your eagerness surprises him a little as you rest your hands on each of his shoulders. Adjusting your hips on either side of his. 

Jungkook just watches you eyes wide. His red eyes were dilated almost to black. You waste no time lining up your entrance with his tip, sinking down onto it slowly. Letting him slowly fill you up. Jungkook takes in a sharp breath leaning back on his hands while you sink down onto him. The two of you had no need for protection, from what it sounded like from many accounts. Jungkook couldn’t get you pregnant no matter how hard you tried.

Jungkook's eyes close tight, and his grip on the blanket next to him was evident. One of his hands comes to grip on your hip forcing you to bottom out on him. His grip was too tight, “Ease up.” You place your hand on top of his like you need to pull him back to earth. 

“Sorry.” He moans, his head falling to the side. His dick tucked perfectly inside you and his head twitching slightly almost driving you insane. “God you feel so good, fuck.”

You hum, and lift your hips on top of him. A moan falling past your lips, “Oh yes.” 

You create a slow rhythm between the two of you. Your hips rising slowly up and down on his cock. His dick rubbing up against that same spot inside you and your high building all over again. Jungkook is now able to get some relief. He was still having a hard time though. He was still just focussing on your neck. 

You could see it all over his face, his fangs were slowly peeking out again. His mouth was slack and eyes all fucked out. He was hungry and you were mostly just teasing him at this point. A small punishment for not eating enough. 

“Oh are you hungry?” You lift yourself up and sit yourself back down onto him again. 

Jungkook let’s out a gasp as he nods, “Yes.” 

“Hmm,” You sit up, Jungkook's dick dragging inside you tantalizing. “You lied to me. Said you were fine, but look at you.” 

“I’m sorry baby. I… I just… please.” He begs, a cross between desire and ferality written on his face. You sit your hips back down onto him, a moan falling from the both of you. You needed to toe this line carefully, but it was always a little fun when you got too. 

You loved seeing Jungkook getting so desperate for you, in more ways than one. He did it to you all the time and so you reveled in the time you got to do it to him. 

You continue to tease, you tone playful, “I don’t think you deserve my blood now.”

“Oh god please no.” Jungkook’s hands come up to either side of your face, desperation in his voice. Trying to pull you closer but enough slack given so you can hold yourself away. “Beautiful that’s not funny, don’t play with me right now.” 

“No. You said you were fine and you’re about to lose it.. All over my blood.” You lift your hips up and sit back down onto him again. “Shame.” 

“Please let me drink from you. Please just a little bit.” Jungkook's voice became slightly hoarse and he was fidgeting under you in desperation. Making his dick move inside and you had to do your best to not just cum all over him right now.

You place your hands on top of his that are rested on either side of your face. Pulling them away. “Ask nicely.” 

“Please. Oh my love please let me taste you.” He conceded, he was totally out of it. You had gotten what you wanted and it was so hot. 

His eyes sparkling under the light that only creeps in through the window of your room. You don’t move anymore. You kiss both of his hands before  letting them go. You tilt your head to the left side to present your neck. Jungkook, although starving, takes gentle care of you. One hand coming back to hold your opposite cheek, the other around your back. Keeping you in place. You close your eyes waiting for him to make his move. 

Jungkook’s fangs were fully exposed, his senses were completely filled with you. He licks a line over the spot where he is going to puncture before he sinks both of his teeth into your neck. Straight into the vein. The pain is cold and needle-like before it is gone but the side of your face and neck feels completely numb. Then Jungkook starts to drink, you can feel your heart begin to quicken. As the blood seeps out from you through the new holes in your neck. Jungkook drinks slowly to make sure he can tell how much he is taking. 

You remember the first time it happened, it hurt a lot. You felt like you could feel life draining out of you. Now it no longer hurts and has become more of an intimate act for the two of  you. Jungkook was always endlessly careful about how much he took. Never more than a blood bag's worth. It was difficult because of how good you tasted, you weren’t only the love of his life but the best meal he had in his time of being a vampire. 

Jungkook’s grip on your head was tight so you couldn't easily slip away, but after a moment, Jungkook loosened his grip and you could tell he was done. You had kept your eyes closed. Usually you got pretty dizzy during this so you always closed your eyes.  Jungkook with some force pulled himself away from you. His face came into view. His mouth was covered in your blood and it was dripping down his chin, teeth also stained red once again. His fangs detract back into his mouth. He was out of breath. 

Your eyes were tired, as you leaned forward on his shoulder. “Fuck me. That never gets old.” Jungkook sigh. Jungkook leans back in to lick over the spot to close the wounds. A stray drop of blood had made its way down your neck and collarbone. Jungkook wasted no time in licking it’s trail back up your neck. Cleaning it away for you. 

You kiss his forehead because it didn’t really do it for you to taste your own blood. “It can’t be that good.” 

“Oh trust me, it is.” Jungkook shifts his hips under you, his dick nudges slightly inside you. You gasp and Jungkook is finally actually able to enjoy your pleasure instead of hearing your blood pound in your ears. 

You lift our hips up and down on top of him again, his cock bottoming out inside your again and you both moan. Before you can continue though, Jungkook lifts you off of him and flips the two of you back over so you’re on your back. He does this to your surprise. 

“Now I can fuck you like I want.” Jungkook leans away from you and strokes his cock a few times before pressing it to your entrance. Swirling it around. You widen you legs so that he can have better access, you needed him to fuck you bad. Before you got to tired to do so. 

Jungkook guides his dick inside of you again. 

“Yes!” You groan, wrapping your arms around his neck, as Jungkook picks up his speed and he rocks his hips into your. The slapping of your skin echoing in the room. 

“That’s right baby. Cream my cock.” Jungkook groans as he continues to rock into you. The dizziness was hitting you but you didn’t care, you could feel your climax coming. 

“Fuck I’m so close Jungkook.” You groan, grinding your hips into his each time he makes contact with yours. Jungkook was kissing all around your neck, encouraging your high. He wanted you to cum so bad, getting to eat from you and then make you cum. He couldn’t think of anything better. 

Jungkook's body had become warm again, eating straight from you had that effect. You loved it when it happened, made you wonder if he was this warm when he was human too. 

“Cum for me baby, please please cum all over me.” Jungkook begged into your ear. Jungkook thrusted a few more times, his tip dragging against your g spot and you were cumming undone. Walls squeezing his cock as your cum began to cover him. 

Your walls squeezing around him as he fucked himself into you. “Oh fuck yes. God you feel so good.” 

With a few more pumps Jungkook was coming undone and cumming inside you. His cum filling up your cunt as he continued to fuck into you. Your cum and his mixing together. Jungkook thrust a few more times before coming to a stop. He slid himself out of you and his cum spilling out of your throbbing pussy. He wanted to kiss you but he had your dried blood all around his mouth. 

You were pretty dizzy, having an orgasm in the midst of losing a pint of blood wasn’t a super easy combination. Jungkook slid into your bathroom, closing the door so he could flick the light on. You covered your face with with your arms anyways, not sure if you would really be able to sit up without difficulty. After a moment Jungkook returned, he had gotten a new pair of boxers and his face was all cleaned up now. With a blink of the eye he had zipped out of the room and then zipped back in, you could feel the air shift with the speed he was going. 

He removed one of your arms from your face. A smile on his face as you open your eyes to look at him. 

“Come on let’s get you cleaned up.” He kissed you, his skin was cold again. Taking one of your hands and helping you sit up. What you hadn’t noticed is he brought back with him some juice, and another towel that was warm to clean you up. What you didn’t really notice was how you were also covered in your own dried blood. Jungkook may have taken a bit too much since he was a little sloppy with it. 

“I’m really dizzy.” Which was mild but was almost headache inducing. 

Jungkook nods, grabbing the juice he has placed on the ground next to him. “I know. I got you this and you need to drink it.” 

He places the cup in your hand. You drink it all down pretty quickly, you probably should have also eaten something when you got home. Would have made this a little easier but whatever. Wasn’t your first rodeo but Jungkook worried every single time. He helped you clean up after you are comfortable moving. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Your next day at work was alright but you were,  in fact, exhausted. 

You were filing books away, running on two coffees, but you still felt like you were going to need another. You worked as a librarian with one of the largest Libraries in the city that had some of the oldest works, so this was your typical day in and out. You had spent a good part of your morning also restoring old books. Now you were doing some mundane tasks that needed to be finished. Luckily you would be leaving soon and early.

Your friend, Rehna, who was also your colleague, had rounded her way around the corner in your aisle to find you. She had roped you into an afternoon of shopping to find a new outfit for Jimin’s party. It was only two days away, the invite was fresh but Jimin had confirmed with you months ago that you and Jungkook would be in attendance. Much to Jungkook’s complaints. 

Rehna is also a vampire.

She was the youngest of the group. She was only turned 8 years ago. She’s technically 30 but she was 23 when she turned. She’s told you her story before, she was turned on accident. She was attacked by a vampire, she ended up biting him back and she swallowed enough blood to make her turn. Apparently it didn’t take much. You actually met her before you met any of the others. She was a vampire then but she was running around on her own. She only knew of Jungkook and the others through Jimin’s parties but never hung out with them until you and Jungkook started seeing each other. 

“Please tell me you’re almost done. I’m bored and I’m ready to find something perfect.”

“I would have thought you found something already.” You say, the theme was Bejeweled. Which was incredibly vague but you think you had the idea. “Honestly anything shimmery or shiny will probably work.” 

“Yeah but you know these parties are basically red carpet events.” 

“You just want to win the outfit contest this year.” She had entered and had yet to win the competition for the last few years you were in attendance. 

Her smirk turned wicked. "Damn right I do. This is my year." She lifted a finger in a dramatic flourish. "Now hurry up."

Before you could argue, the stack of books you were holding suddenly lifted out of your arms and flew onto the shelves, slotting themselves into place with eerie precision.

"Rehna." You groaned.

She grinned, brushing imaginary dust off her hands. "Oh, look at that, you’re done! Time to go!"

"Damn vampire powers." You muttered, crossing your arms.

You were annoyingly jealous that she could move things with her mind. Would make your life much easier as it certainly makes hers. She usually wouldn’t use it so openly but she really wanted to get out of here.

“I have a feeling you won’t have to complain about them for too much longer.” Rehna jokes but realizes her mouth was getting ahead of her mind. 

“What?” You say, luckily you were a bit distracted and didn’t hear what she said. 

You blinked, but before you could question her, she quickly threw an arm around your shoulders, steering you toward the employee room. "So, how’s Jungkook? Still annoying?"

You roll your eyes, “Jungkook is fine.” 

“He doesn’t come around here as much as he used too.” She sighs. She was actually glad. 

“He’s been busy lately, there’s always some new business with Jin these days. Today Jimin has roped him into something for the party.” You both enter the employee room and you both begin to gather your things. 

“Oh how exciting. To be honest I’m fine with him not coming around. He always leaves his stink all around here.” She shivers at the thought, Jungkook and Rehna weren’t enemies by any means. If anything they were basically like siblings at this point but if he was the annoying brother she only cared to see at family gatherings. 

“He can’t smell that bad.” You throw your bag over your shoulder. 

“Believe me. He does.” She groans, it was a vampire thing. From how Jimin has described it to you it’s not very strong, it’s just subtle but some vampires don’t like others smell. Rehna really did not care for Jungkook’s scent.

“Anyways, I’m assuming Jimin will have him roped into party prep all day. Makes it easy since it’s just at Jin’s manor and not like in a cave on the side of a mountain or something.” You explain, which is exactly what he had done last year. 

“Ugh but the best parties are always the ones he throws in some random obscure place.” She pouted. 

“I almost lost my toes because of the cold, and none of you produced any body heat so you were no help.” You moan, thinking about it. Most of the night was very fun but by the end of it you felt like your feet were going to fall off because the cold hurt them so badly. Evidently when vampires hold a party inside a mountain in the middle of winter, cold doesn’t factor into their plans.

As you grabbed your bag, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something she wasn’t telling you. But with Rehna, that wasn’t unusual.

And honestly? You were too tired to press her on it.

“Well it’ll still be grand no matter where it’s at. Jimin will make sure of that.”  

Because this party—this event—was the biggest night of the year.

Not just for vampires. For everyone.

Jimin’s soirée was a spectacle, something out of a gothic dream. It was more than a party—it was a gathering of the undead, an annual tradition that had carried on for centuries. Carried on because of Jimin. A night of indulgence and excess, of laughter and celebration. Vampires from all over the region attended, their grudges and rivalries put aside in favor of revelry. A silent truce held for one evening, upheld by nothing more than ancient tradition and the promise of a damn good time.

The venue changed every year, always extravagant, always hidden in plain sight. An old mansion, a repurposed cathedral, a secret ballroom tucked beneath the city. Chandeliers dripped with candlelight, casting golden glows against dark velvet walls. Music floated through the air; classical waltzes and modern remixes alike, played by musicians who had honed their craft for centuries. The scent of aged wine and fresh blood filled every corner, mingling with the faint traces of perfume and cologne.

But the real attraction, the thing that drew vampires from all over, was the blood.

It was a feast unlike any other.

Vampires brought their finest. Aged blood, stored in crystal decanters like fine whiskey. Fresh blood, bottled and sealed, each one labeled with its origin. Rare types, unique flavors, collected over years. Some brought exotic blends, infused with herbs and spices, creating something akin to mulled wine but richer, more intoxicating.

And it wasn’t just about drinking. It was about history. Vampires exchanged stories, sharing memories of the humans they once knew, the lives they once lived. They brought gifts, rare artifacts, and trinkets from centuries past. Some fought for sport, showcasing inhuman strength with friendly duels that blurred the line between violence and performance art. Others danced, moving with a grace that defied physics, their bodies fluid and weightless.

It was decadent. It was breathtaking.

And you got to witness all of it.

Human’s being in attendance wasn’t unusual. The situation that you and Jungkook had was not unusual. There were other vampires that had human partners and they would bring them along as well. Not all of them stayed human, the first year you went just about every human there you had met was either turned or had broken up with their vampire counterpart by the time the next party rolled around.

Human’s who weren’t the partners of vampires weren’t permitted though, or those who weren’t deeply entangled in their world. There is one man who is a sixth generation banker who is invited to these parties because he is in charge of the finances of a handful of wealthy vampires. His name is Larry. Nice guy.

Your continuation in being a human, although you and Jungkook had seemed to be attached by the hip, had brewed a curiosity in everyone. Although it wasn’t frowned upon or strange, it did feel like it to everyone else. Especially amongst Jungkook’s own coven. 

“Jungkook, to the left! How many times do I have to repeat myself?!”

Jimin’s voice rang through the grand ballroom, exasperation thick in his tone. The cavernous space was in chaos—drapes of deep sapphire, shimmering crystal fixtures, and layers upon layers of bejeweled decorations yet to be placed. At the center of it all, precariously balanced on a tall ladder, was Jungkook, attempting to hang a string of decorative jewels exactly where Jimin wanted.

Or, at least, close enough.

“I can’t go any more left!” Jungkook snapped, gripping the ladder with one hand and holding the jewels with the other. “If you want it so precise, why don’t you climb up here and do it yourself?”

“I’m busy!” Jimin shot back, crossing his arms as if he were personally burdened by the weight of this entire production. “I have a million things to oversee, and you’re up there messing around!”

Jungkook let out an aggravated sigh and simply hung the jewels where he stood, ignoring Jimin’s frantic gesturing.

Jimin flailed. “That is not where I told you to—”

“Too bad! I’m getting down.” Jungkook climbed down the ladder, dropping to the floor with ease. “If you care that much, do it yourself.”

Jimin threw his arms in the air. “I swear—”

“If you two are going to fight, at least take it to the living room.” Jin’s voice interrupted, smooth and composed as ever. He strolled into the ballroom with a book in one hand, scribbling notes with the other. “I don’t need you breaking another chandelier.”

“He’s ruining my vision.” Jimin huffed. Jungkook leaning against the ladder, annoyance all over his face.

Jin barely looked up. “Isn’t there an actual decorator running around here somewhere? I thought you hired someone?”

Jimin scoffed. “I did… But Jungkook’s here, so why not make him useful?”

Jin chuckled, thoroughly entertained, while Jungkook remained unimpressed. He had come here to talk to Jin about something else entirely, yet somehow, he had been roped into helping Jimin with decorations. The entire house was alive with movement—hired help rushing around, carefully placing extravagant decorations that now stretched through every corridor.

“I would’ve rather helped with literally anything else.” Jungkook muttered, stepping beside Jimin and bumping his shoulder.

Jimin huffed, shoving him back just slightly. “Well, too bad, because I needed you.”

Jin finally took a good look around the ballroom, his sharp eyes scanning the shimmering spectacle before him. It was hard to surprise Jin, but even he seemed impressed. “Damn, Jimin. You’ve seriously outdone yourself.”

Jungkook had to admit—the room was stunning. Sparkles in every corner, a perfect blend of opulence and elegance. Everything dripped with wealth, which, knowing Jimin, was always the plan. You were going to eat it up.

“Three hundred-plus of these gatherings, and you still manage to come up with new ideas.” Jungkook teased.

Jimin shot him a smug glance. “I’ve only gotten better at it over the years. Trust me, I’ve got plenty more party ideas left in me.”

Jungkook smirked. “Great. You can plan any party I ever throw.”

Jimin’s eyes lit up. “Promise?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Yes. Not that that’ll happen anytime soon.”

Jin, who had been silently observing, suddenly looked intrigued. “Oh? That sounded like a hint at something.”

Jungkook frowned slightly, glancing between the two of them. “A hint at what?”

“Oh, please.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “We’re all counting down the days until you and Y/N finally get hitched.”

Getting married to a vampire was a little different. A vampire marrying another vampire was more about declaring a companion. Some vampires do have the traditional ceremony but it wasn’t like the celebration that a human marriage was because vampires who wed other vampires is more of a casual affair. “Getting Married” was usually a term for vampires with human partners. 

Jungkook choked on his own breath, “We aren’t getting married.” 

“Why not, it’s been years. I figured it would have happened after you told her about us. You basically kiss the ground she walks on anyways.” Jimin smirks, trying to poke fun but a tone of seriousness was behind the remark. 

“You’ve been together for five years now and you haven’t asked?” Jin asked, he couldn’t help himself. He too was curious when the two of you would be getting married. 

“We haven’t talked about it.” Jungkook admitted, quietly. Almost looking like a kicked puppy or that he was going to get in trouble.

Jin and Jimin both pause for a moment, Jin raises a brow to Jungkook. “Seriously?”

Jungkook shakes his head. It actually never really came up, Jungkook was actually quite nervous to broach the topic. It was very serious and it’s not that he hadn’t thought about it, in fact he did. Just not in the way everyone thinks he would be thinking about it. He was more waiting for you to bring it up.

Jimin suddenly grabbed Jungkook by the ear, dragging him down to his level. “I cannot believe you haven’t talked about it. How could you not?”

“Ow—Jimin!” Jungkook swatted him away, freeing himself from his grip. He rubbed his ear with a glare. “I have thought about it, but it’s not that simple! We’ve talked about, like… regular marriage, but not about this.”

Jin tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “What’s the big deal? It’s completely normal. Happens all the time.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw. “Because I have no idea if that’s what she even wants.”

Jimin sighed dramatically before smacking Jungkook’s shoulder. “Seems like something you should talk about!”

Jungkook shot him a look, but Jimin just grinned. Ever since you had come into their lives, Jimin had immediately taken to you—he adored you. And whenever Jungkook did anything that seemed remotely questionable, Jimin was always the first to go to bat for you.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. The weight of their words settled uncomfortably in his chest. This wasn’t just a marriage proposal. This was forever. Asking you to marry him wasn’t just about rings and vows—it meant asking you to give up your humanity. 

To turn. To be like him.

The thought alone sent a storm of memories crashing through Jungkook’s mind, memories laced with pain, fear, and the irreversible consequences of a choice that could never be undone. He had buried them deep, locked them away where they couldn’t touch him. But now, under the scrutiny of his closest friends, the weight of it all pressed down on his chest like a boulder.

“The time isn’t right.” He muttered, voice tight.

Jimin stopped mid-step, turned on his heel, and without a second thought, kicked Jungkook square in the ass.

Jungkook stumbled forward, catching himself before he could completely lose balance. His glare shot daggers. “Hey!”

Jimin didn’t even flinch. “You deserved that.”

“I’m with him on that one.” Jin chimed in, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Right time? What kind of answer is that? You love her. I don’t even need to invade your thoughts to know that.”

A sly grin spread across Jimin’s face. I am invading your thoughts, his voice echoed smugly in Jungkook’s head. “And I know that’s a bullshit answer.”

Jungkook tensed, jaw clenching as he focused for a split second and then shut Jimin out of his mind. The vampire in front of him blinked, looking mildly offended before pouting.

Jungkook’s voice came out flat. “Come on. Is it really that hard to guess why I’m hesitant?”

Jin and Jimin exchanged glances before answering in unison. “Yes.”

Jungkook exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Unbelievable.”

The air in the room shifted. He glanced around at the staff still buzzing through the ballroom, adjusting final decorations, moving chairs into perfect alignment. Not here. Not where curious ears might overhear things that didn’t concern them.

So instead, he let his thoughts slip past the surface and invaded theirs.

A beat of silence.

Jin and Jimin went still as the realization settled in, Jungkook’s memories bleeding into their awareness like ink spilled across a pristine surface. Their postures changed and Jin’s amusement faded into something serious, Jimin’s cocky demeanor softened.

Jungkook. Jin projected, his mind brushing against his friend’s like a whisper in the dark.  There’s such a slim chance of that happening.

Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the polished floor beneath him. You can’t promise that. You remember how bad it got.

A flicker of something unreadable passed through Jin’s face.

Jimin cut in, his mind pressing against theirs like a sharp rod. That was a special case. This is different.

Jungkook shook his head, tension crawling up his spine. None of us know that. It would be my blood this time. It could have the same effect… or worse.

Jimin stepped forward, placing both hands firmly on Jungkook’s shoulders, his touch grounding, his presence warm despite the centuries he had spent as something cold. His voice was softer now, even in Jungkook’s head. Alright… I feel bad for giving you a hard time. But, Jungkook, everything is fine now. This could be something beautiful.

Jungkook swallowed thickly, flexing his fingers, trying to shake out the unease tightening in his chest.

Every time he let himself think about turning you, the same anxiety gripped him like a vice.

Jungkook's mind brushed past there's one more time, Or it could all be for nothing.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It had been a few days since that conversation.

Jungkook had done everything in his power to shove the topic out of his mind, burying it beneath the routine of everyday life. He convinced himself there was no need to bring it up, not until you did first. It had to be something you wanted, so he saw no need for him to have that conversation until you wanted too. 

And Jungkook—true to his word—never invaded your thoughts. Never once slipped into your mind the way he so easily did with the others.

But right now? God, how he wished he could.

Because as he sat on the edge of the tub, watching you flit between the closet and bathroom, he had no idea what you thought about any of it.

It was New Year’s Eve.

The scent of your perfume lingered in the air, mixing with the faint traces of soap and fabric softener from your clothes. You were wearing nothing fancy yet, just sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Your hair half-done, your makeup barely started because you kept getting distracted. One minute you were digging through your jewelry, the next you were redoing your eyebrows, and now you were standing in front of the mirror, testing two different pairs of earrings.

Jungkook hadn’t even started putting himself together. He sat there, in slacks and a button-up with the top few buttons left open. But he wasn’t thinking about the party.

He was thinking about you.

And apparently, he was staring too hard because you turned toward him, arching a brow.

“What’s going on inside there?” You took a step closer and poked his forehead, snapping him from his daze.

Jungkook blinked, tilting his head up at you with an easy smile. “I’m thinking about you.”

Your face lit up, playful and teasing. “Oh yeah? What about me?” Turning back to the mirror to continue what you were doing.

Jungkook leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched you through the mirror. “How much I love you.”

Your expression twisted into disgust. “Gross.”

Jungkook snorted, shaking his head as he stood up and closed the space between you. “You’re gross.”

Before you could retort, he draped himself over you, resting his chin on your shoulder. Watching as you meticulously filled in your brows. You let out a small huff of concentration, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you tried to finally get them right.

Jungkook’s hands found your waist, wrapping around you with ease, pulling you flush against him.

“Jungkook.” You warned as you reached for your mascara. Unable to reach it as Jungkook pulls you a step back. You hand pathetically waving in the air for it. He started to sway you side to side, his grip tightening just enough to throw you off balance. “Jungkook.”

“We can be a little late.” He murmured against your neck, pressing a slow kiss to the spot where your shoulder met your neck.

You exhaled sharply. “No, no, no. You do this every time.” Laughing, you pried his arms off of you and spun around, poking him in the chest. “I don’t want to miss anything! I like these parties, you know.”

Jungkook just grinned, all mischievous and smug, before leaning down and stealing a quick kiss from your lips. “You always fall for it, though.”

You turned back to the mirror, rolling your eyes as you reached for your brush. “Yeah, like a sucker! Not this time.”

Jungkook stepped in close again, this time pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His hands landed on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing slow circles as he watched you apply your mascara with careful precision.

“You’re just so cute.” He hummed, his voice a soft murmur against your ear. “I can’t help it.”

“How about you finish getting ready or something?” You quipped, flicking your gaze to him through the mirror. Waving your hand to shew him away.

You knew what he was trying to do. You also knew exactly what would happen if you gave in; your makeup smudged, your hair ruined, a twenty-minute delay at best. This year you were determined to get there at a reasonable time. 

“Fine. We both know it’s going to take me like five seconds to get ready though.” Jungkook strolls away from you, you could hear some frantic shuffling in the closet, before Jungkook appears seconds later. 

Dark green, nearly black, pinstripe three-piece suit hugged his frame perfectly, the crispness of his dress shirt stark against his inky tattoos. His hair somehow effortlessly tousled yet perfectly styled, made it seem as if he’d walked straight out of a magazine spread.

Jungkook threw his arms out with a smug grin. “See? All done.”

“Show off.” You pout, as you continue what you’re doing. 

Jungkook just chuckled, sauntering over and perching himself back down on the edge of the tub, legs spread, shoulders relaxed—taunting. He didn’t say anything, but the amusement in his eyes told you everything. Suddenly his voice invades and echoing through your mind. 

Am I distracting you yet?

You pointedly ignored him.

Though, you could still feel him watching you, and if you let yourself think about it too much, you knew you’d never finish getting ready. Because deep down, you knew he’d rather spend the night tangled up with you, alone, than go to this party at all.

After a little while, you finally finished your makeup and got dressed emerging in a similarly colored dark green silk gown that was beaded intricately with some beads that dangle off the gown like droplets. With some movement of the dress you sparkled under the light.  An off the shoulder classic, very old hollywood.

As you stepped out, Jungkook’s head snapped up.

His gaze slowly dragged over you, taking in every detail, his lips parting slightly before he let out a low whistle.

You grinned, twirling slightly to show off the full effect.

Jungkook stood again and crossed the space between you in a few strides. He leaned back against the bathroom sink, looking you up and down with something just shy of awe.

 “Hey you got something right here.” 

You look at him confused, then back in the mirror, “What? Where?” You frantically look over your face. 

He reached out, with his pointer finger and thumb, tilting your chin toward him. “Hmm… right here.”

Before you could react, he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek. You let out a soft laugh, narrowing your eyes at him. “Wow.”

Jungkook merely shrugged, feigning innocence. “Oh—wait. One more.”

Before you could question him, he leaned in again, this time pressing an equally slow kiss to your other cheek.

“Had to get that one.” He murmured, lips brushing against your skin. “Or the whole outfit would’ve been ruined.”

“Oh I’m sure.” You nod, your eyes racking over him now.  A familiar glow filling your whole chest. Jungkook took your hand in his. Pulling you out of the bathroom.

“Come on, sucker, we’ve got a party to go to.”

“Awe come on. You’re the one who said we could be late.” You tease with a small laugh falling off your lips. 

The two of you wasted no more time leaving, knowing full well that if you lingered any longer, you wouldn’t be stepping foot outside the apartment for days.

Jin’s manor was a short drive out of the city, nestled beyond the reach of streetlights and skyscrapers, surrounded by acres of untouched wilderness. The grand estate stood like a relic of another time—imposing yet elegant, its dark stone exterior bathed in the silver glow of the moon.

Despite its remote location, the manor was alive with energy. As Jungkook pulled up the winding driveway, you could already hear the faint hum of music drifting from within, an undertone to the laughter and clinking of glasses.

Jin’s home was more than just a lavish estate; it was the heart of their coven, a sanctuary that housed centuries of history. Ancient relics, preserved documents, and books bound in timeworn leather lined the vast library that stretched across one wings of the house. Jin had graciously allowed you to explore it before, though even after countless hours buried in those tomes, you had barely made a dent in its secrets. Centuries of vampire lore lived here, and it was precisely that allure that had made Jimin so adamant about hosting the party at the manor this year.

When you and Jungkook arrived, the massive double doors were already open, held by two eerily still gentlemen dressed in midnight-black suits. Their expressions were unreadable, their gazes sharp but unmoving.

You barely spared them a glance before stepping inside, though a part of you wondered—were they vampires? Or just illusions, elegant puppets crafted by Jimin’s magic? It wouldn’t be the first time he had conjured something like this for dramatic effect.

The moment you crossed the threshold, you were swallowed by opulence.

The vast entrance hall was bathed in a dazzling glow, every inch of the ceiling and walls adorned with sparkling gemstones, strung together like constellations. The light from the grand chandelier refracted off the stones, casting glittering reflections across the marble floors, creating an illusion of stardust swirling through the air.

It was breathtaking.

The energy in the room was magnetic—guests, both vampire and human, dressed in the finest silks and velvets, mingled effortlessly. Laughter and music wove through the air like silk threads, wrapping around you as you took it all in.

You leaned into Jungkook, who had an iron glad grip on your waste since entering the house. “Remind me to tell Jimin there could have been more glitter.” 

Jungkook laughed, “I know he really over did it this time.” 

“No!” You wave your hand dismissing him, “It's fantastic this is stuff you really only read about.” 

And it was.

The sheer extravagance of the event was unlike anything you had ever seen. The caterers, gliding through the crowd, were dressed almost as exquisitely as the guests themselves, adorned in dark silks with golden accents, carrying trays of crystal glasses filled with deep, crimson liquid. Blood. Some trays held what you assumed was champagne, meant for the few humans—like yourself—who had been granted entry to this ethereal gathering.

The walls shimmered with illusions, flickering images of dazzling courtiers and celestial phenomena. The ceiling above transformed into a starry sky that seemed almost real, galaxies swirling and constellations twinkling in slow, mesmerizing motion.

Jungkook dragged you along as you basked in every intricate detail, his hand firm yet patient as he guided you toward the grand staircase that led up to the main ballroom.

At the foot of the stairs, Jin and Jimin stood poised like royalty, greeting each guest as they arrived. Jin was immaculate in a deep burgundy ensemble that complimented his yellow eyes, exuding effortless authority, while Jimin—never one to be outshined—was a vision in icy silver, his entire look designed to catch the light and demand attention. Jimin had also bleached his hair back to blonde to seemingly match his outfit. All making his red eyes shine brighter.

Guests arrived behind you in a steady stream, some carrying elegantly wrapped gifts, others presenting cases of unknown offerings—rare wines, expensive liquors, or perhaps something even more elusive.

“Oh a vision in green.”

Jimin’s voice was warm and teasing as he extended a hand toward you, taking yours with effortless grace and placing a chaste kiss to the back of it. His lips curled into a knowing smile as he straightened, eyes flickering with mischief.

“Jimin, this is truly something else.” Your gaze swept across the dazzling room once more, still in awe of how something so grand, so utterly enchanting, could exist completely hidden from the rest of the world.

“You flatter me.” He hummed, tilting his head slightly. “Jungkook helped a lot in getting some of these decorations, so he deserves some credit.”

Jimin shot a wink in Jungkook’s direction, though you caught the slight twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips—no doubt remembering the near disaster that had almost cost them an entire ballroom and possibly Jungkook’s head in the process.

“Well, I can’t wait to see what else you have planned for the night.” You bounced on your heels, excitement thrumming through you.

Jimin, ever the opportunist, wasted no time looping his arm through yours, effectively pulling you closer. He leaned slightly around you, peering at Jungkook, who was momentarily engaged in quiet conversation with Jin.

“Can I steal her away?”

Jungkook’s brows lifted, gaze flicking between the two of you with mild suspicion. “Already? We haven���t even gotten a drink.”

“I promise to bring her back before midnight!” Jimin didn’t even wait for a response before whisking you away, your shoes clicking against the marble steps as you struggled to match his pace.

You barely managed to wave at Jungkook, who remained at the foot of the stairs, watching you go with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement. But the moment your eyes met, his softened, comforted by the unfiltered excitement on your face.

Jimin led you straight into the ballroom—an even grander spectacle than the entrance hall.

A massive Phantom of the Opera-style chandelier hung from the center of the vaulted ceiling, illuminated by shifting technicolor light that cast mesmerizing reflections onto the polished floor. Rhinestone streamers draped across the ceiling like cascading waterfalls, shimmering under the glow. The same illusionary night sky from the main hall continued here, except now, the constellations moved, twinkling and rearranging themselves in intricate patterns, like a cosmic dance only the stars understood.

The music was rich and full-bodied, played live by a band on a raised stage at the far end of the room. Couples twirled on the dance floor in elegant, sweeping motions, lost in the rhythm of the night. Along the walls, guests gathered in small clusters, glasses in hand, some already deep into their drinks, their laughter and whispered conversations filling the space like a carefully orchestrated melody.

“Monique! I got her!” Jimin called out suddenly, his voice cutting through the lively chatter.

A woman with cascading dark curls turned at the sound of his voice, her deep purple gown clinging to her frame as she pivoted effortlessly. The backless design of her dress only added to her commanding presence, and as she lifted a delicate crystal glass to her lips, the deep red stain left behind told you exactly what she’d been drinking. Her hair curly and draped around her in effortless elegance. Orange eyes shining under the lights.

Monique.

She was one of Jin’s closest confidantes and Yoongi’s wife—212 years old, sharp as a dagger, and the resident doctor who could mend almost any injury, supernatural or otherwise. She was a force of nature in her own right. You could only imagine what Yoongi was like if she was like this, you had never had the pleasure of meeting him. Just heard stories. 

At the sight of you, her face lit up. “Darling!” she cheered, her voice smooth as silk yet edged with a teasing warmth.

She closed the distance between you in an instant, placing affectionate kisses on both of your cheeks before pulling back to admire you fully.

“My God, you look gorgeous.” You gave her a once-over in return, a slow grin tugging at your lips.

“Right?” She lifted her arms and gave a twirl, letting the deep purple silk of her gown fan out elegantly before settling back into place. “Always ready to impress.”

“And I am.” Without hesitation, you linked your arm through hers, Jimin still holding onto your other side, the three of you now moving as an exclusive little trio through the glittering expanse of the ballroom. The energy in the room crackled—laughter, conversation, the clink of glasses, and the distant hum of the live band blending seamlessly together.

“So, what have I missed so far?” You asked, glancing between them.

Monique took a slow sip from her glass, the deep red liquid staining her lips like crushed roses. When she pulled back, her eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Nothing at all, darling. The party has just begun.”

There was something reassuring in her tone, but you didn’t miss the way her grip on you remained firm. Protective.

These gatherings were grand, extravagant, and, by all means, safe—but that never stopped the occasional stray vampire from giving in to temptation. You were painfully, unmistakably human, and your scent had already caught the attention of several guests. Their gazes lingered just a second too long, their smiles just a bit too sharp. Monique, ever perceptive, had already positioned herself between you and a few of the more curious onlookers, a subtle yet deliberate message—this one is not yours to touch.

“With you here, my dear, I can actually get things started.” Jimin mused, flashing you a grin before gracefully slipping out of your grasp.

Your eyes followed him as he moved through the ballroom like a phantom, effortless and commanding. Without a single spoken request, guests instinctively parted for him, creating space at the center of the grand hall. The shift was immediate, the energy in the room tightening like a drawn bowstring. A hushed murmur rippled through the crowd, and then, as if bewitched, the music began to die down.

Jimin turned on his heel, his expression slipping from playful to regal in an instant. When he spoke, his voice carried through the room, smooth as silk yet impossible to ignore.

“Undead and undesired.” He began, the corners of his lips curling mischievously. “Welcome to the greatest night of your lives.”

A round of applause echoed through the hall, accompanied by knowing laughter from those familiar with his theatrics. He soaked in the attention, allowing just the right amount of dramatic pause before continuing.

“I am your glorious host for this evening.” He declared, his arms spreading wide as if embracing the entire room. “You’ve heard me say it all before the universe made earth, then man, and then the vampire.” A rounding sound of hisses left everyone in the room, a large display of teeth and intimidation. “And we have many great things in store for you tonight—stories that will haunt your dreams, performances that will leave you breathless, and blood that will keep you satisfied until the end of time… or at least until my next party.”

More laughter, the atmosphere growing lighter, though the air remained charged with anticipation.

“Please, enjoy yourselves.” Jimin’s gaze flickered over the crowd, his smirk deepening. “Indulge as much as you wish. Tonight, we feast, we dance, and we are one with the night.” 

With a spin and swish of his finger, the illusion that was once on the ceiling dripped down to the floor. Making it appear as if instead of walking on marble everyone was walking on the night sky. The illusion also seemed to envelope Jimin and his hair turned black and his suit went from silver to a midnight blue. The chandelier above shimmered, the illusionary constellations shifting in a dazzling display. The band struck up a new tune, rich and decadent, and just like that, the night was set into motion once more.

Monique exhaled beside you, shaking her head with a fond chuckle. “That boy was born to put on a show.”

“He does it rather well if I do say so.” You say, grabbing a champagne off of a tray that passes by you. Taking a sip, and of course Jimin had gotten a very nice quality champagne for this affair. You would probably be responsible for drinking two of the bottles.

“Where’s your boy?” Monique glances around the room seeing if she can spot Jungkook herself. 

“Jimin dragged me away before he could follow. He’ll find us.” You said, taking another sip.

The music in the air swelled as a performance took center stage, dancers twirling in perfect synchrony, their movements almost hypnotic. The glittering lights overhead cast shifting patterns across the floor, and Jimin had once again disappeared, likely off to greet more guests.

“I have no doubt he’ll find us soon. You two start to implode when away from each other too long.” She teased, squeezing your arm. 

“That may be a little true.” You giggle, sipping your champagne. 

“It’s sweet. You’re really great for him. I’ve always thought that.” She hums, which was true. She has told you many times over the years how great she thinks the two of you are. She was the most encouraging of the relationship in the beginning before Jungook told everyone he was dating a human. 

“What about you?” You asked, tilting your head curiously. “Where is this mysterious Yoongi I’ve heard about for years?”

You’d expected a flippant response, maybe even an exasperated sigh, but instead, a flicker of something serious crossed Monique’s face. It was so quick, you almost missed it but not quite. She schooled her features almost instantly, her smirk returning as she glanced behind you.

“Speaking of your lovesick puppy.” She raises her glass to Jungkook who was coming in your direction. 

You turn to look at him, a smile on his face. “Five seconds in this place, and they steal you from me.” He said, immediately reaching for your free hand.

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I think they like me better than you.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I think you’re right.” Then, glancing toward Monique, he added, “Hey, Mon.” 

“Jungkook.” She tipped her glass in his direction. “Happy New Year. Get yourself a drink.” Without waiting for a response, she snagged a goblet off another passing tray and handed it to him.

He accepted it with a nod. “Happy New Year. Planning to steal her from me again?” He teased, resting his head lightly against yours.

“No I’ll let you have her back… for now.”  Monique’s smile remained in place, but something in her tone shifted slightly. You caught it again, that same momentary change in her expression. And then, just like that, she was stepping away, disappearing into the crowd.

Jungkook didn’t seem to notice.

“Where do you want to start?” Jungkook leaned in close to your ear. “Dancing, gambling, making out in the bathroom. I like the last one but that’s me.” 

You smile, hitting him in the chest, “We need at least two more drinks before we can do that.” 

“Boo, you’re no fun.” He clinks his glass against yours, “Guess I need to start.” 

You stop him before he takes a sip, “Hold on, one more kiss before you have iron mouth the rest of the mouth.”

He smiles, leaning in and giving you a lingering kiss. Wanting more but not really wanting to stick his tongue down your throat in front of all these people. 

With that, the night raged on, a whirlwind of movement and sound. You and Jungkook drifted from room to room, immersed in stories that spanned centuries. Some vampires were impossibly old, their gazes heavy with history, while others were younger, still burning with the reckless energy of newfound immortality. There were dazzling performances—some manipulating fire with a flick of their fingers, others bending shadows into eerie, shifting forms. Illusions warped reality before your eyes, grand halls transforming in an instant, blurring the line between what was real and what was merely a trick of power.

The night reached its peak with a fencing match and sleek steel flashing under candlelight, footwork so precise it looked more like choreography than combat. The duelists struck with deadly accuracy, piercing and slashing in ways that would have been fatal to any human. But here, wounds were shrugged off, blades pulled from chests without so much as a grimace before the fight resumed. Laughter and applause rippled through the crowd, the energy of the gathering growing wilder as midnight loomed. Blood flowed freely, whether in ornate goblets or from the eager mouths of those who had abandoned restraint.  

Jungkook and you got separated at some point. You had found Rehna amongst the chaos though. 

You both were now in a drawing room which was hosting the outfit competition. Waiting for the results to be read allowed. Rehna had her hands clamped tight around yours, almost painfully but you knew she was excited. Hoseok was the hosting vampire for this year’s competition.

“Second place goes too,” He opened up the small envelope, “The vampire Rehna.”

You let go of her hand and start clapping yours and join in cheers from other vampires as she walks on stage to accept her award. She was happy but you could tell she was a little bitter about not getting first. She rejoins you as the winner gets their prize. 

“Hey that was a tough call, I mean that girl who got first literally had made her dress in the 18th century… you can’t beat that.” You try to comfort her, but she picks herself up quickly. 

“Starting tomorrow we are planning my outfit for next year. That first place is mine.” She nods, gripping onto her small trophy so tight that it seemed to bend underneath her grip. 

“Hey, the top three get to take home some really nice bottles of blood. Why don’t we go pick yours out?” You say pulling her past other guests to leave the drawing room. 

You both make your way back into the heart of the house where you pass some tall French  doors that lead to a balcony area. Some vampires were smoking and other vampires leaning casually and others in deep discussion. You almost think nothing of it before you catch a glimpse of Monique standing outside alone. It makes you stop in your tracks. Rehna noticing your pause. 

“You alright?” She raises an eyebrow to you, trying to see what you see. 

You wave for her to continue on, “You go ahead. I’ll find you later.” 

She wants to pry but nods and continues as you turn to head out onto the balcony. The view of the estate just looked over the woods that spanned one side of the house. You could see the stars pretty clearly out here and it would be a lovely spot to sit and think. You understand why Monique may be finding solace here. You couldn’t help if you said something wrong to her earlier. She usually would be enjoying the festivities but was here… alone. Having that same look on her face that you saw earlier. 

The cold air bites against your skin, sharp and unwelcome, but you push past the discomfort and step closer to Monique. The moonlight catches in her dark eyes, and there’s something distant in her expression, a weight you can’t quite name.

"Care for some company?" You offer, your voice light despite the strange tension in the air.

She turns toward you with a soft, practiced smile. "Oh, darling. Having a good night?"

"So far, yes," You admit, swaying slightly as warmth buzzes through your limbs. "I’m a little tipsy, to be honest." You giggle, the edges of your amusement blurring under the influence, and Monique’s smile lingers, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Are you alright? You don’t seem as festive as you usually are at these things." You press, watching her closely.

She hums, a quiet acknowledgment, then exhales slowly. "I’m alright. Still having a good time, I promise. Just… some old memories getting kicked up."

"Was it something I said earlier? I’m sorry if I—"

She cuts you off with a small shake of her head. "No, not at all. I already knew I was going to feel this way tonight. It has nothing to do with you."

You study her, unconvinced. "Well, then what is it? I’m pretty good at listening. Even if I don’t always understand all the vampire stuff." You shrug, trying to offer levity.

A flicker of hesitation crosses her face, but then she sighs, her gaze flicking away. "It’s… Yoongi."

Your head tilts slightly. "The famous and elusive husband?"

The name lingers in the air between you. You’ve heard plenty about Yoongi. Whispers of a sharp mind, a man who seemed to exist only in the stories others told. You’d assumed he was simply away, a researcher, a traveler always chasing something beyond your reach. Whenever the subject arose, the conversation had a way of dissolving into something else, slipping through your fingers before you could grasp any real details. The way everyone spoke about him made it feel like he was still here.

Just hidden, just unseen.

"Yes…" Monique’s voice is quieter now, careful. "Has Jungkook talked about him much?"

"Here and there.” You admit. "The subject always seems to get dropped pretty quickly, though. I’ve heard plenty of stories from everyone else. I’ve always wanted to meet him, but it feels like… like he’s never around."

A pause. "Makes sense.” She murmurs, gaze flickering as if she’s choosing her words with precision. "Well, they were very close… Are close. Come with me."

She nods her head back inside and she takes your hand before you can ask anything else, fingers cool and firm as she pulls you through the party.

She grabs two more glasses which you assume is for herself. She leads you down two flights of stairs, away from the pulse of the party, the sounds fading into a distant echo. The air grows cooler, the flickering light from the sconces casting elongated shadows on the stone walls. You recognize this path and its one that leads to the cellars, a place you’ve rarely ventured. Few people come down here during these gatherings. It feels… separate, untouched by the revelry above.

“This feels like I'm being set up to be sacrificed or something.” You joke, trying to lighten the eerie atmosphere.

Monique lets out a laugh, her voice rich and amused. “Weird place to sacrifice you, considering there are over two hundred vampires upstairs.”

“True.” You admit, though the further she leads you, the less sure you are about anything. The air shifts, turning cooler, denser. The house above is lavish, but down here, it feels ancient. The stone walls, though well-lit, seem to close in the deeper you go.

There’s a shift in Monique’s expression, something amused yet knowing. “Oh, also, your boyfriend is trying to find you. He’s calling out.”

You groan. “How bad?”

“Pretty drunk.”

“Oh no.” You sigh, rubbing your temple. “He probably drank that mulled blood stuff. He waits all year for it.”

Monique smirks. “He’s going to be a handful when you get back.”

Great. You were already preparing for a very clingy, very intoxicated Jungkook draping himself over you the moment you surfaced from… whatever this was. But for now, Monique’s grip on your wrist is firm, leading you deeper into the underground corridors.

Eventually, you reach a narrow hallway lined with locked doors. Some have glass doors, showing carefully preserved artifacts displayed in temperature-controlled rooms and historical relics, no doubt, kept safe from time and age. Others bear plaques reading “Archives.” You recognize the setup from the old library you used to work at, except this was older, untouched by time in a way that made your stomach twist.

Monique stops at the last door. It’s heavier than the others, its dark wood carved with intricate patterns, a symbol you don’t recognize etched into the center. Without hesitation, she opens it.

The room inside is cold. Silent. The flickering lights barely reach the high ceilings, casting long shadows across the stone floor. The walls are lined with plaques, names etched in silver, and beneath them, urns carefully placed in recessed alcoves. It looks like a crypt, and the air feels thick with something unspoken.

But what catches your attention isn’t the room itself—it’s the statue at the very end.

It’s life-sized, eerily detailed. A man, frozen mid-motion, his body twisted as if recoiling from something unseen. His expression is caught between defiance and fear, lips slightly parted, eyes wide. He’s propped up with supports, standing atop a pedestal, carved in a military-style uniform.

You hesitate near the doorway, the weight of the space pressing down on you. Monique, however, steps forward, placing one of the glasses of blood on the pedestal’s edge with deliberate care. Then she turns to you, her gaze unreadable.

“Y/N,” She says softly, her voice carrying through the quiet, “meet Yoongi.”

You blink. Once. Twice.

Your gaze flicks between her and the statue, confusion settling into your bones. “What?”

She looks at the figure, then back at you. “This is Yoongi.” She lifts a hand toward the frozen man, as if introducing him formally.

You take a cautious step forward. “I’m confused.”

“There’s a long story here, but this…” Monique exhales, her expression tightening. “This is my husband. This is why you’ve never met him.”

A sharp chill slides down your spine. You glance at the room again, at the plaques, at the urns. Your stomach twists. “Did… D-Did he die?”

Monique shakes her head, her voice dropping to something nearly inaudible. “That would be easier.”

You step closer, standing beside her now. She’s staring at the statue like it might move, like it might suddenly exhale and return to her after years of silence. You don’t interrupt. After a long moment, she takes a deep breath. “How much has Jungkook told you about… vampire powers? Our history?”

You shake your head slightly. “Jungkook’s told me details here and there. I’ve asked a lot of questions, but honestly… it still feels like I’ve barely scratched the surface even after two years.”

Monique hums in acknowledgment. “It’s complicated.” She says, nodding. “As you know, we all have the speed, the strength, the mind reading… but beyond that, we each develop our own abilities. When a vampire has the power to manipulate something, and I mean truly change it, the only one who can undo that power is the one who cast it in the first place.”

A small pause echos between you. You watch as she seems to make a decision, deciding to tell a different story. 

She continues, voice distant. “I met Yoongi at the beginning of the 19th century. My sister and I had just moved to England, escaping a war that wasn’t ours. My father had connections and secured us a comfortable life through distant relatives. It was exciting but suddenly, we had titles, dowries, invitations to every ball. For a young woman, it was everything society told me I should want.” She lets out a quiet laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Yoongi was a Viscount at the time.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Really?”

“They were having fun with it.” A small smirk touches her lips, as if recalling something fond. “Anyway, Yoongi was highly sought after that season. He had wealth, he was gorgeous, and he had absolutely no intention of marrying.”

You can’t help but smile. “So how did you get his attention?”

Monique’s smirk widens, her gaze flicking to the statue. “It’s a classic story. Boy meets girl. Girl spills wine on him in front of everyone.”

You wince. “Oh no.”

“It was mortifying.” Monique shakes her head at the memory, a soft, wistful laugh escaping her lips. “I spent days trying to make it right, sending notes, trying to find a way to replace his coat. Apologizing over and over, but he didn’t care in the slightest. He actually found it amusing how much care I placed in a simple dress shirt.”

She falls silent then, her eyes locked onto Yoongi’s frozen form, as if trapped in the past alongside him. The weight of her grief settles over the room like a thick fog, making the air heavy, pressing against your chest. 

“So then what?” You ask gently, urging her on.

“He started coming around more often. We became fast friends, though he never officially courted me. It all just… fell into place. One day, I realized I couldn’t help how I felt. Except he beat me to it. Probably read my mind or something.” Shaking her head with pursed lips, “It was easy, natural… until he had to tell me about the vampire part.”

“How did he do it?”

“He just blurted it out.” She huffs a small laugh, the memory clearly amusing in hindsight. “He wasn’t dramatic about it, didn’t sugarcoat it,  just said it. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t care if I knew. He was so sure I wouldn’t blink twice over it. And he was right. I didn’t.” She shrugs. “I had no idea before that. They were very good at keeping themselves hidden back then.”

You shift your weight slightly, glancing again at the statue, at the way Yoongi’s body is posed. “Then he asked you to marry him?”

Monique exhales a long breath, her fingers tightening around the glass she holds. “Yoongi was actually afraid to ask me to marry him. Vampires asking for a human’s hand in marriage is a big deal. You are asking this person to be with you for eternity. It meant Yoongi was asking to turn me, turn into a vampire. Now he had little hesitation about it, for a long time, but he was terrified of what it meant. Of taking something from me. My humanity, my chance at a ‘normal’ life. He worried about things like children, about whether I would resent the decision later.” She shakes her head. “But I never wanted children. I watched my mother have five boys and knew early on that that life wasn’t for me.”

“So what did you say when he finally asked?”

A soft, nostalgic smile curves her lips. “I told him there was nothing I wanted more. That the idea of forever with him didn’t scare me. That  it excited me.” Her gaze flickers with warmth, but only for a moment before the sadness creeps back in. “He was so surprised by my willingness. But for me, it was the easiest decision in the world. That I would willingly die for him.” 

Silence hangs between you for a beat before you press further. “So then… how… when did this happen?”

Monique’s expression shifts, her voice quieter now. “It happened during World War One. Humans weren’t the only ones at war. There was a war between vampires, too. A lot of vampire men were drafted into the human armies, fighting not just humans, but each other. And the women… we fought our own battles in the shadows, deep in the forests.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “No matter how powerful we think we are, war finds a way to break everyone.”

Your stomach knots at the implication.

“One night, Yoongi and Jin were on patrol for their unit when they were ambushed by a squad of enemy vampires. They had no idea what kind of abilities these vampires had, but they were outnumbered. Jin managed to take down two of them, but he got badly injured in the process. Yoongi, was trying to get Jin out, trying to protect him. And then…” She swallows hard, her eyes drifting back to the statue. “One of them petrified him.”

“Oh no.”

She nods. “Turned to stone instantly.” Her fingers clenched into fists. “Jungkook and Hoseok found Jin, barely alive, but by the time they got there, it was too late. The vampire who did this to him was gone. No trace. No way to track them.” She exhales sharply. “They brought Yoongi back like this… and he’s been this way ever since.”

A cold chill creeps up your spine as you stare at Yoongi’s statue. The idea that he isn’t dead but that he’s still in there, trapped, unable to move, unable to speak—makes your skin crawl.

“You haven’t found the vampire who did this? Even after all this time?” You whisper.

Monique’s jaw tightens, and when she speaks, her voice is edged with something far more dangerous than sadness.

“No.”

Her lips press together before she exhales sharply. “It’s possible they’re dead. But it doesn’t undo the effect.” Her voice wavers, frustration and grief laced together in a fragile thread. “It’s almost ironic. Yoongi spend most of his life dedicated to understanding vampires better. Yoongi spent centuries researching vampire abilities, collecting books, studying cases, trying to understand all the different powers we possess… and yet, even with all his research, we still don’t have an answer.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “So he’s just… like this. Until we find a way to undo it.”

Your throat tightens. “Mon… I’m so sorry.” A small tear escaping one of your eyes. The grief that escapes her overwhelming you.

She shakes her head. “No need to apologize.” She reaches over, wiping your tear away. “And no need for tears.” 

“But—I can’t even imagine how you feel.”

“It’s…” She hesitates. “It’s painful. I have to keep living in the hopes we find something… For the first few years, I wasn’t—I was just existing. A shell of myself, searching for answers, desperate for anything that could fix this. I hunted for that vampire for what felt like forever. We had leads, rumors about others with similar abilities, but they always led to dead ends.”

You swallow, glancing back at Yoongi’s unmoving figure. “You know… Can he hear us?”

Monique exhales slowly. “We don’t know. We all talk to him regardless, just in case. We tell him about the world, about what’s happening, about us. We try to keep him filled in… but honestly?” Her voice wavers. “A part of me hopes he can hear us. But another part of me hopes he can’t. That he hasn’t been sitting here, awake, for more than a hundred years, unable to move, unable to speak.”

Your eyes widen at the realization, he could be awake. “Oh my god. I hadn’t even thought about that.”

Monique’s eyes soften, but there’s an unbearable weight behind them. “Yeah… so today is hard. It’s supposed to be a celebration, but how do I celebrate without the person I want most? Sometimes it feels like he died. The grief comes and goes, like waves, crashing when I least expect it.”

“I don’t know… I’m sorry.” You murmur.

She meets your gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in her expression. “I hope we can find something.” She sighs, rolling the stem of her glass between her fingers. “But at least we live in a lasting age of peace now. Vampires have worked hard to bridge the gaps between us. We won’t have to fight like that again. We lost so many—so many were sacrificed.”

She pauses, then continues. “We’ve had vampires come from all over, trying to help. Some of them were Yoongi’s friends, people he helped in their time of need. But no matter how many have tried…” She gestures toward him, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’re still here.”

You hesitate, glancing around the dimly lit space. “Why is he down here? Why not up at the party, where people can pay their respects?”

Monique’s jaw tightens. “Because in the ‘90s, some drunk idiot broke off his left arm.”

Your eyes widen. “Shit.”

She nods, and now that you look closer, you can see the faint lines where the repair was made. Just below the shoulder.

“After that, we decided Yoongi couldn’t be displayed at the parties anymore. It was too dangerous. Too much risk.”

Your chest tightens at the thought. “That’s awful.”

She hums, staring at her glass before tipping it slightly in the direction of the other drink she brought down. “That’s why I bring this.” She  says softly. “It’s for him. So he can still celebrate. I always come down here on this night. I spend the New Year with him.”

Your heart aches at the quiet devotion in her voice. “That’s… so sad.”

Monique shakes her head, offering you the ghost of a smile. “No sadness tonight. It’s a night of celebration.” She reaches out, squeezing your hand gently. “You should go back up. I’ll be okay. Now that you’ve finally met Yoongi.”

“Well it was lovely to meet you Yoongi.” You nod towards him looking back to her, “I  don’t mind staying.”

“You have so much to celebrate.” She gives you a small, reassuring smile. “Go be with everyone. Celebrate into the night. It’s close to midnight, and I’ve kept you long enough.”

You open your mouth to protest, but at that moment—

Baby. Baby, where are you?

Jungkook’s voice echoes in your mind, petulant and needy. He sounds whiny, which means he’s definitely had a few too many drinks. If you don’t go find him, he’s liable to start running through the halls, searching for you like a lovesick idiot.

You sigh, amused. “I’ll come say goodbye before we leave.”

Monique nods, her expression warm but tired. “Okay.”

With one last glance at Yoongi’s frozen form, you turn and head back up to the party—leaving Monique to her vigil, her love for him unwavering even after a century of waiting.

With a heavy heart and a mind full of tangled thoughts, you ascend the stairs, leaving behind the weight of Monique and Yoongi’s story. Their tragedy lingers in your chest, an ache that refuses to settle. She’s been waiting, searching, for him, for a way to bring him back. The sorrow in her voice clings to you, and as much as you wish you could do something, anything, to help… you know there’s nothing.

The party is still in full swing as you step back into the throng of people. Laughter echoes through the grand halls, music thrums beneath your feet, and the faint scent of spilled champagne lingers in the air. You weave your way through the crowd, your mind distracted as you search for Jungkook.

He could be anywhere by now, lost in the sea of guests. You sigh, dodging a pair of unsteady dancers and taking note of the slight destruction left in the wake of too much drinking—Jimin is going to love that.

“Oh, Jungkook, where are you?” You murmur to yourself, scanning the faces around you.

If only you had some supernatural ability to read minds, to pull his thoughts from the noise and find him in an instant instead of aimlessly wandering.

You slip into a quieter hallway, peeking into rooms as you pass, hoping to spot him. Nothing. It’s almost comical—he’s likely looking for you too, both of you just barely missing each other in the chaos.

Meanwhile, Jungkook has been trapped for the past hour listening to Jimin’s annual rant about how he should have won a gold medal in the 1972 Winter Olympics. He tells the story every single year, growing more bitter with time. Jungkook, slouched on a couch with his head hanging over the back, has all but tuned him out, using what little cognitive function he has left to search for your mind instead.

It’s proving difficult.

He’s six—no, seven drinks in. His limbs feel heavy, his mind hazy.

His eyes are closed when he feels it, a soft press of lips against his forehead. His red eyes blink open, vision blurry before it sharpens, landing on you. You’re smiling down at him, hands braced on either side of his head, warmth radiating from your touch.

“My love.” You say and Jungkook hums. A drunken smile on his face. Unbeknownst to him you had left a lipstick march on his forehead. In his search for him, you took a pause to reapply it.

“You found me.” He sighs. You kiss hip lips, a little awkward since his head was upside down. Leaving another stain on his lips. Then another on both of his cheeks. Another on his nose. All leaving lipstick stains behind.

“Now you look perfect.” You laugh at your work, Jungkook still unaware of what you had done. You pull out your phone to take a picture. It would be a good one to show him later. 

“I need to tell you a secret.” He says staring up at you while you stare at the picture.

“Yeah?” You look at him and he curls his finger gesturing for you to come closer. You lean your head close to his mouth. 

“I’m a vampire.” He whispers. Then, with a chuckle, he giggles at himself.

You snort, pulling back to look at him properly. “Oh my god, I had no idea.”

He waves for you to come close again and you comply, “I also really want to rip that dress off with my teeth.” 

“Hot, maybe another time.” You whisper to him. Standing back up straight. Jungkook hoists himself off of the couch. Walking past you with a smug grin on his face as he leaves the room. 

Follow me. His voice calls back to you in your mind.

You trail after him as he just keeps on walking through the house, stumbling a little but mostly keeping himself up right. You stay close behind, he manages to swiftly grab another glass for himself and for you. He caught a quick glimpse of himself in a mirror and gave you a knowing look. You just shrug your shoulders like you had no idea what you had done. 

 Before he veers down another hallway, which was technically off limits to other party members. You knew this wing, this is where the library was. Which is exactly where Jungkook ducked into. Things that were old but could be safely kept out in the open for those to look at regularly were kept here. It was a beautiful collection that Jin had curated over the years. Some works you would never find in any parts of the world. It didn’t shield from the rest of the sounds of the party but it was much quieter. Only a lamp was left on so the light in here was dark. 

“No Jin will actually kill us if he sees we brought drinks in here!” You protest staying a foot outside the door while Jungkook stands inside. 

“He’ll never know, plus he likes you so he would never get mad at you.” 

“Jungkook it’s almost midnight, we'll miss the countdown.” 

“We can have our own.” 

“But-“

“Come here.” He grabs your hand pulling you into the room anyways. Closing the door behind the both of you. “I just want one moment just with you.” 

He sets the glasses down on one of the side tables. Taking your hand again. Pulling you into him. You don’t protest him letting yourself fall into his arms. 

It was just a comfortable silence between the two of you for a moment. The hum of the music outside filled in the void as your mind was flooded. Your chest was so full and so warm because you just loved Jungkook so much. Your mind still wandered. Thinking about something like what happened to Yoongi and Monique… you couldn’t imagine. How would you even handle that kind of thing if it was you two. She’s been waiting for over a hundred years now. 

They only got a small piece of forever together. 

You felt every word she said about Yoongi because it’s all the same things you felt for Jungkook. You would go searching the world for something to fix him. To bring him back to you. You would do anything. 

You would die for him. 

Your thoughts are interrupted. The sounds of people outside begin to countdown from 30. 

“So what do you want in the new year?” You ask him, your arms hugging tighter around Jungkook.

He thought for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip, “Never hear Jimin’s Olympic story ever again. I lived it… I already know what happened.” 

You laugh, “Be serious.” 

20.

“Fine. I don’t need anything. I have everything I want already.” 

“Everything? That’s a lot.” 

“I know.” 

15.

Jungkook leans close to your ear. “What about you? What do you want for the new year?” 

“I think I want to have everything… I don’t have it quite yet.” 

“What do you mean?” 

10.

“I just…” The words caught in your throat because you had wanted it for much longer than you were willing to voice. You had thought about it since the day he told you but you weren’t sure if you were ready.

“What is it?” 

“I want more than this Jungkook… I want forever.” 

5.

“What are you saying?” 

4.

“I want you. I want our life. I don’t think I was ready to talk about it before but I want it now…” 

“Y/N.”

2.

1.

“I want to be like you... I want you to turn me into a vampire.” 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

a/n: woof this is a long one, I hope you enjoyed!! Let me know your thoughts plssssssss... I will try to have the next part out as soon as possible but enjoy this for now <3

𓆩♱𓆪 Next Chapter

Taglist!: @lilacstellar @london-dreamer71 @pitchblack0309 @dna-black-and-blue @uniquesuitcasegothcop @fancypeacepersona @whoisnanda04 @starlight-1010 @yooniepot @myjungkookthighs @inkedkoos @rrosiitas @spideyjimin @ahgasegotarmy116 @destenyofficial @taekrve @agustverse @jungkookswifeeeeeee @superstarfishsandwich @kooeuphoria @bdlyanne @candyshin00 @littlegirlmin @jimineepaboya @rklve @https-mei @littlegirlmin @m00njinnie @yoongisgirl69 @adoresjjk @dieforkoo @kookoo-kachoo @ukndtwme @livi101ful @mimi1097 @mrsjohnnysuh @heebear @xsyruhh @somehowukook

[mariasont]

Hii! I saw this gif earlier today and I literally had a brain wave of an idea for fan fic!

Based off this gif below. S2!reid x reader. Reader has called off sick for a few days now and Spencer has been “looking after them” (ifyky) and one of bau members actually comes to help them with their “sickness” and sees Spencer leave like the gif below and he is like “hey.. wow” awkward! (Can be light smug or implied, up to you!!)

Looking After You - S.R

a/n: um i loved writing this one tehe, ur mind is amazing and i thank you for trusting me to make it come to life

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smutsy, spencer giving head (i just know that man gives the best head i really can't think about it for long), reader is sick (kind of), morgan and garcia being nosy per usual

wc: 1k

His mouth was on you, head between your thighs as you pulled at his hair, whining his name between moans. He was a genius, yes of course in the literal sense, but you meant in bed. He was perfect and he ate you out like he was a man starving and this was his first meal in weeks.

You had been down with a cold for the past couple of days, finally seeing the end of the tunnel after some help from Spencer. You had been surprised when he showed up at your door with a plethora of home remedies and even more surprised when one of those remendies included his mouth being glued to your cunt.

Each breath you took, you could feel yourself getting closer—an electric tingle spreading from your toes to your fingers, the tight coiling of desire in your belly. That elusive peak was tantilizingly close, deliciously aching, but just out of reach.

Fate apparently had a twisted sense of humor and decided it would stay out of reach.

The knock on the door was like a cold splash of water causing you to jolt up, but Spencer's large palms clasped around your thighs as if to say, I'm not done with you yet.

The sharp intake of breath was involuntary, a reflex as you sunk back into the mattress. Whoever was at the door would get the message eventually. Right now, you were writhing against the sheets with hands forming fists in the curls of Spencer's hair, and that was all that mattered.

"Oh—yes, Spence, please." You weren't certain you were making sense.

He hummed against your clit, sending full body shockwaves through you as you finally released, like a taut rubber band finally being snapped. You were panting, mumbling something incoherent as your hands sought out Spencer's.

Another knock, more aggressive this time. You struggled to sit up, your mind still hazy, but Spencer's gentle touch coaxed you back down.

"I'll get it," he said, fingers tracing constellations from freckle to freckle on your ankle. "Do what you do best, sit and look pretty."

You laughed weakly, pressing your lips against his before you watched him disappear from the room.

Spencer moved to answer the door, his hand barely grazing over the handle before turning it, but as it swung open, the color drained from his cheeks, eyes widening at the people in front of him.

Garcia and Morgan.

He was suddenly aware of how he looked—hair strewn in every direction, glasses resting lopsidedly on his nose, mouth no doubt still covered in you. That thought prompted him to bring his sleeve up to his face, wiping the remnants away as he simultaneously ran a hand through his hair.

But it was too little too late, they had damning evidence against him now. His first instinct was to slam the door shut, but he hesitated, certain it would worsen the situation. So he remained still, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly, his eyes flickering to the soup and tissues they presented.

"Are we at the wrong apartment?" Penelope whispered, not-so-discreetly, to Morgan.

"Nope, this is definitely the right apartment." Morgan said, smirking as he clasped Spencer on the shoulder. "You've been taking care of her, huh, Reid?"

"Time out!" Penelope squealed, her hands jumping up, almost dropping the soup in the process. "You and—, and you guys are? You're lying. Oh my stars, wait, what were you two doing? Why do you look like you've been... oh, don't tell me!"

Spencer could feel the pink suffusing his face, fingers pinching his brow as he started to shut the door. He should know better than to check the peep hole before opening the door.

Morgan's hand stuck out, preventing the door from shutting any further.

"Hold your horses, pretty boy," Morgan teased, nudging Spencer aside without waiting for an invitation. His eyes darted around your living room as if he would find you. "At least let us do what we came here to do."

Penelope started to set her stuff on the coffee table, her face displaying her thrilled emotions like an open book.

"I can't wait for JJ to know about this, she's going to freak," Garcia says, clasping on to Morgan's arm.

Morgan laughed, patting her hand as he shook his head. "No one is going to tell anyone. Your secret is safe with us, pretty boy. We're a vault, aren't we, baby girl?"

"Yeah, okay, fine," Penelope started, lips pursing as she peered into the kitchen. "But just so we're clear, this is going to be like swallowing a live grenade of gossip.

Now it was Spencer's turn to laugh, head shaking as he pushed his glasses to the top of his nose.

"Thanks, guys. I'm sure she's going to appreciate this."

He nodded towards the items, disregarding their comments as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, walking them both to the door and hoping to the gods you would stay put.

"Alright, we'll let you get back to... whatever this is," Morgan conceded, hands shooting up in defense as he stepped out the door. "But hey, you make her cry, and I'll be using those spaghetti limbs of yours to mop the floor."

"Morgan!" Penelope said, slapping him on the shoulder.

"Unnecessary, but understood," Spencer said, waving towards the exit. "Now, if you wouldn't mind..."

He could feel the migraine coming on.

"Oh my god."

They were both looking behind him, he followed their gaze, seeing you standing there just outside the bedroom door, wearing his boxers and one of his Star Trek shirts.

He slammed the door shut.

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[bookshelf-dust]

relief

evan buckley x fem!reader

gif by @suledins

PSA IF YOU’RE A MINOR: GET THE FUCK OFF MY PORCH BEFORE I WHOOP YOUR ASS. THIS FIC IS STRICTLY 18+. I RESPECT YOUR BOUNDARIES, YOU RESPECT MINE.

word count: 6,568

warnings: nsfw 18+ only; swearing, inexperienced!reader, mentions of therapy/insecurities regarding inexperience, conversations about sex, heavy petting, fingering

synopsis: buck is a walking golden retriever. when he asks you out for the first time and begins to learn more about his arson-investigating coworker, it’s easy to say he puts that eagerness to use.

a/n: this is the very first smut fic i have EVER written (aside from some old old dirty nsfw headcanons). that being said, please bear with me, because this stuff is hard!! shoutout to all the wonderful writers who do this all the time because phew! 🤧 i am pretty happy with how this turned out, and i’m proud of myself for writing for a new character and trying something totally different from my norm! i had no plan of direction for this fic when i started it, but i hope the end result will resonate with some of you, and if it doesn’t, i still hope it gives you some good feelings and a little escape from this fuck ass world <33

————

Evan Buckley is a hellishly gorgeous man. Oftentimes, you have to remind yourself that he’s real—that he’s not some sort of mirage, a result of your constant sleep deprived state. He’s the kind of breathtaking that you find to be unfair.

You started working for the 118 as their house arson investigator three months ago. Captain Nash soothed every nerve you had going in, showing you to your quaint little office, introducing you to everyone else in the house. You’d definitely needed the comfort of that transition, but hadn’t expected your colleagues to be so welcoming. 

You were transferred as part of a greater Los Angeles initiative to create stronger communication and collaboration between the first responders and specialized investigators, as so much of their jobs go hand-in-hand. Although you’re pretty sure it’s only because the department heads get sick of answering follow-up questions about causes of fires—if people had insurance, if it was an accident or an attack, etc. 

So they split up you and the rest of your original team into varying firehouses so that there would always be an arson investigator on hand. And if there’s any foul play, then the police can be contacted quicker, as the investigator becomes a direct source to target those issues. You’d complain about all these silly loopholes if it weren’t for the fact that you’d gotten a pretty raise for your trouble. 

In truth, working with the 118 is the most useful you’ve felt in a long time. You know you’re good at your job, and you’d tell anyone who asked that you’ve done the work and you know that to be true. This opportunity has allowed you so much more field work than you could’ve imagined, which excites you. And there is the benefit of the eye-candy your coworker provides. 

Which is why, each time Buck approaches you, you have to blink a few times, press your nails into your palm, do something to ground yourself so that you might be able to carry on a conversation with him. Tonight though, he’s managed to sneak up on you, giving you no time to seem more like a sociable human being. 

“Hey, uh, you ever figure out the cause of that house fire from the other night?”

Buck is propped up against the door to your office, the air immediately responding to his presence, making everything feel lighter. 

You look up from your desk, huff out a breath to try and blow the hair away from your eyes. 

“Oh, hey, Buck. The house that the newlywed couple had just bought?”

Knowing him is enough to tell you that this particular fire would be the one to stick in his memory come week's end, the others being much too mundane for conversation.

Buck nods, a mischievous smirk appearing on his face. 

“Yeah, actually,” you say, encouraged to continue. “Turns out the couple started it without even realizing. They didn’t remember everything at first, but after going over there and questioning them some more, they finally pieced it together.”

Buck steps a little further into your office. You watch as he bends at the waist, hands coming to rest on one of the squishy chairs across from you. 

“How do you start a fire in your own house, and not notice?” he asks, that playful lilt to his voice reaching your ears. 

Your cheeks burn, a flush running through your body and turning you hot, head to toe. You tap your pen against your wrist. This isn’t usually the kind of information you’re excited to share with your coworkers—not that they wouldn’t be entertained by it. It’s that they’ll all be too entertained by it. 

“Well,” you cough, “turns out they were having a rather aggressive intimate moment and one thing led to another…” You trail off, hoping you won’t have to say it out loud. It was bad enough being in the room when they described their evening in detail, talking directly to one another like you really weren’t there.

Buck cocks his head at you, like a cat that’s just spotted a bug. “I don’t follow,” he says. His mouth quirks up the slightest bit at the corners. 

You inhale, mustering up enough courage to blurt it out before this becomes any more awkward than it has to be. 

“They were having sex in the kitchen and her ass bumped up against the stove top, turning on the burner. She’d grabbed onto a dish towel, for support or whatever, and when they moved it upstairs, she tossed the towel behind her and…”

“Neither of them noticed the fire because they were too caught up in the heat of the moment,” Buck finishes for you. 

You nod, sucking your teeth just slightly. “Yep. What’s worse is after spending an hour digging around and talking to them, the wife went ‘You know, now that you say all this, I do remember my bum feeling hotter than usual before we made it to the bed.’” You roll your eyes.

Buck drags his hands down his cheeks, straightening. There’s a smile on his face when he says, “Well, I guess they say love makes you do crazy things.”

“I suppose that’s one way to put it,” you say, laughing a little tensely. You chance a bit of eye contact with him, realizing he’d already been staring at you for who knows how long. “Was there anything else you needed? Or just curious about the local arsonists?”

Buck chuckles, turning his face away from you momentarily. 

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to go out for drinks tonight.” 

You glance at the clock on the upper right hand corner of your computer monitor. It reads 5:43. “Is it a special occasion or something? I feel like no one’s really done that since Chimney had a kid.”

Buck says your name. A knot forms in your throat. “I didn’t mean with everybody. I meant just the two of us.”

You blink. “Why?” You blurt out, the one syllable making you stutter.

His brows knit together. “Uh, so we can get to know each other better? I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious that I like you.”

You’re pretty sure steam might be coming out of your ears. “Um, well, I don’t like to assume. I mean, you’re a pretty flirty guy, you know?”

He says your name again as he plants his hands on your desk. Your pen falls out of your grasp. You’re mesmerized as you watch him pick it up and place it in the cup over to your left.

“This is Buck 3.0, remember? I don’t just flirt with anyone. Besides, flirting usually comes to me, what with being a sight for sore eyes and whatnot.”

You snort: this cute little laugh that comes straight from the back of your throat that Buck has grown to love. 

Buck decides not to rile you up anymore. “So, drinks or no? I definitely won’t cry myself to sleep tonight if you say no.”

You facepalm. “Yeah, alright. Filling my bloodstream with alcohol might be exactly what I need right now.”

————

Two cosmos in, and you’re feeling a lot better. You’re grateful for having kept a pair of jeans and a relatively-okay-for-going-out top in your locker, allowing you to look somewhat presentable enough to be so near Buck for an entire evening.

So far it’s been pleasant, the both of you making small talk, you showing him pictures of your cat and him listening intently to all the antics said cat gets up to during the night. 

You’re chewing on a bacon covered cheese fry when Buck speaks. “What did you mean earlier, when you said you didn’t like to assume? Like, not assuming a guy would be into you?”

You nod, pausing with your hand in front of your mouth while you swallow. “That’s exactly what I meant. This isn’t something that happens often.”

“You’re fuckin’ with me,” Buck says, taking another swig from his beer. If he’s not careful, he’s going to spill it down his shirtfront. 

Your chest thumps with self-deprecation, the voices from the sides of your head—the ones that create that pressure behind your eyes—telling you this might be a great moment to talk shit about yourself. To air out all your faults to this man you probably don’t even deserve to be sitting across from. God knows he won’t be interested when he really gets to know you. 

You inhale.

You’ve been in therapy long enough to know the power of positive thinking. You know that everyone is on a different, unique timeline—that things happen for everyone at different points in their lives. 

But being inexperienced in all aspects of the romantic world is something you’ve carried shame for practically your entire adult life. Only you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let it consume you anymore. It’s your life, and you have the ability to change the way you think. That doesn’t mean your body doesn’t still react, though, doesn’t still flush with anger at how your life has gone thus far, like your veins don’t thrum as you think of all the vile comments you could say about yourself, the ways you could punish yourself for being the odd one out. 

That’s why being approached by Buck in such a blunt, upfront way was such a shock to your system. That just doesn’t, or rather, it hasn’t ever happened to you. 

And with Buck being who he is, it felt like even more of a fever dream. You almost wanted to spin around and tell them to cut the cameras, the lenses zooming in on your face—mockumentary style. 

“I’m not though,” you say. “Guys don’t usually come up to me and ask me out on a date, or ask me anything really.”

Buck is staring at you intently, and you almost wonder if you went too far by calling this a date. 

“Are you for real?”

“Well, I wish you wouldn’t say it like that, but yeah. I guess there’s just something about me that’s not super alluring to most men? That’s why I was so surprised by you.”

He waves his hands around gently. “I didn’t mean it like a bad thing, I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around that.”

You eat a few more cheese fries. “Why?”

He stutters for a few moments. “Because you’re just so…so perfect?” You snort, an air of sarcasm to it.  “Like, for one, you’re super hot. You’ve got this whole shy but totally badass vibe about you, and you’re passionate and great at what you do. I guess I just can’t fathom there not being a line of guys wanting to jump your bones if you’ll let them.”

You laugh. It makes Buck smile. 

“I appreciate that you think those things about me. For a long time, I thought that was pretty impossible. Guess when you go twenty four years without anyone actively pursuing you, you start to wonder.”

The table falls silent, and you finish your drink, thanking the waiter when he takes your empty glass, returning with a full cup of water for you.

“So, let me get this clear,” Buck says. Normally those words would freak you the fuck out, but you’re feeling a lot less tense now, less scared of talking about your situation. It’s not what you want, but it’s how it is. “No guy has ever asked you out. So you’ve never had a boyfriend? Never had a first kiss? Never had…sex? Or anything adjacent to it?”

“That’s right,” you say. “And the orgasms I’ve given myself don’t count towards the adjacent. So yeah, you’re right. It’s embarrassing, trust me, I know.”

Buck is still reeling from you saying the word orgasm out loud to him right now, not to mention the images flashing through his mind because of it. He pulls himself together. 

“It’s not embarrassing. Are you embarrassed by it?”

You clear your throat. “I’m certainly not happy about it. Honestly, I’ve spent a lot of time wondering what it is that I’m missing that makes me so behind everyone else. And I’ve spent a lot of time being angry at myself. But it’s not like I can force those things to happen for me, you know?”

Buck gives you this look, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. A small grin makes an appearance on your face. 

“Well, I mean, you could,” Buck says. “But I can see why you haven’t. In my experience, just hooking up with someone to get off, or just say you’ve done something, kinda makes you feel like shit.”

You wrap your hands around your cool glass, running your fingers up and down through the condensation. 

“Unfortunately, I’m also a hopeless romantic. So I’ve thought about just hooking up with someone so that I’m not a virgin anymore, but that’s not what I want. I want a proper relationship and someone that cares about me and wants to be with me. Seems that’s a lot to ask for though.”

Buck reaches across the table and sets his hand on your wrist. “Hey, no, it’s not a lot to ask for. And it’s not bad to be a hopeless romantic! Honestly, I think there are more people like that than we know, but they do whatever to fit in. I am sorry that you’ve felt like this is something to be ashamed of. I can’t imagine how that feels. But I also think it means any relationship you’d have would be more successful because you’ve got your shit together already.”

That makes you laugh, just a little, and Buck is immediately thrilled, fully taking your hand in his. You don’t even have it in you to argue with him. For once, you just listen and try to see yourself through his eyes. 

“Well, I do appreciate you saying all of that, Buck. It’s only that I’ve been patient for so long, and I’m starting to think being wanted isn’t in the cards for me.”

Your gaze has dropped to the glossy table in front of you. You can see the reflections from the overhead televisions, from other patrons walking by, waiters carrying trays of drinks. Buck squeezes your hand in a way that makes you lock eyes with him. 

“So…what is it you think this is then?”

You blink. You have absolutely no response in your brain that would be the appropriate answer for this question.

“You asked me out for drinks.”

His grip on your hand moves up to your wrist, and a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his thumb press into your pulse. This is the most contact you’ve ever had with a man. Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of his skin on yours, the feeling of his calloused palms, shockingly cool and free of sweat, much to the contrary of your own. Your heart begins to race when it finally catches up. Maybe it’s better that this is coming on so unexpectedly.

“And…” Buck says. 

You cough even though absolutely nothing is tickling your throat. “You said you wanted to get to know me better.”

If it’s possible, Buck’s smile gets bigger. “Because?”

“You said you liked me?”

“Atta girl!” He teases. A shock of heat shoots straight from your throat down to your low belly. You pray he can’t see it on your face. Luckily, he continues talking. “So, now that we’re clear on me having a thing for you, what would you like to do with that information?”

You take a quick sip of water, mouth suddenly dry. “Well, my immediate thought is that I should run away and hide because in my head, a potential relationship, or whatever, sounds great but right now? Right here with you touching my hand and looking at me? It sounds kind of terrifying.”

Buck starts with the reading again, sliding his thumb further up until it’s nestled in the center of your forearm. It makes you shiver and his eyes flash. 

“Sounds like we’ve gotta get you out of that head of yours and into the present.”

————

With therapy, you’ve gotten exponentially better at learning how to breathe, how to focus on what’s happening right now, so that you don’t spiral out of control just thinking about what might be happening in a few hours, days, weeks. Being more present is something you’ve learned. That is, in your daily life. But when you’re not used to interacting with men, these feelings are so strange, uncomfortable and scary. 

Your imagination can only take you so far, and you’re accustomed to those limitations. Not knowing what a kiss feels like, not knowing the feeling of anyone else’s touch but your own, not being able to properly picture what might happen to your mind and body when in physical contact with someone you want.

It’s both exciting—sitting here, in Buck’s Jeep, as he drives you home, imagining that those feelings might finally be attainable—and nerve wracking, because how does any of this really work?

Reading about relationships, hearing about your best friend’s escapades, watching a love scene on tv—it’s all different than really experiencing it. Truthfully, it feels like there’s a part of your brain focused on dissociating so that your heart doesn’t fall out of your ass or so that you don’t go into hiding before anything can happen.

By the time Buck pulls into your driveway, you’re feeling like hiding might be your safest bet.

He stops the car, turns off the engine. “Let me walk you to your door?”

You nod, unbuckling your seatbelt with shaky hands. 

Buck follows you up the short sidewalk and up to your little front porch. You both pause under your outside lights, listening to the sound of crickets screeching from the shrubs. He puts his hands in his pockets and starts to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

“So, uh, you were kinda quiet on the way here…did I freak you out earlier? Because if I didn’t, I didn’t mean—”

“No!” you blurt. “You didn’t freak me out, you made me hopeful, actually, I think I’m just afraid of all that romantic stuff because I’ve never done it before…”

He smiles. “Well, yeah, of course it’s a little nerve wracking, but wouldn’t it make you happy to experience those things? Like say, a hug, for starters?”

“Are you trying to hug me right now?” You deadpan, though excitement is thrumming through your veins, blocking out any hesitance. 

“Well, actually, I was hoping to kiss you, but warm up to it first, you know?” Buck says, a teasing lilt to his voice, a naughty smirk playing on his lips. You wish there was another word for it, but there’s not. 

You freeze. Your face has got to be on fire. You bring your hands to your cheeks, covering yourself from his view. 

Buck chuckles. Loosely, he circles your wrists. “Hey, don’t hide. What’s wrong?”

You’ve glued your hands to your face. “You’re making me sweat, Buckley.”

If at all possible, this makes him smile bigger, laugh harder, insanely pleased with himself. You hear the rustling of his coat as he leans down, leveling his lips with the shell of your ear. “Is that such a bad thing?” he whispers. 

You pull away quickly, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Not fair!” you joke. “But, I would like a hug…”

At your consent, he’s on you immediately. If you thought he was big just looking at him, having his body pressed to yours, in the most beautiful bear hug embrace you’ve ever experienced, he seems impossibly huge. It makes it feel like you’re the only person in the world. He’s so warm, so solid. His arms are around your back. He’d helped guide yours around his neck, but you’re so dazed that you hadn’t noticed. 

God, he’s so tall. You can feel the soft of his tummy, and you’re afraid that if you stay like this for too long you won’t ever be able to get through another day without craving the contact. His hair is surprisingly smooth where you feel it against your cheek. His form practically swallows you whole. Not to mention how nice he smells. You’ve never been able to understand those lines in your romance novels, talking about spice and man and ginger whatever. But now you do. He smells like vanilla shampoo and woody body wash. 

“This is so nice,” you mumble into the side of his neck, way before you can talk yourself out of it. You can feel Buck’s laugh against your chest. It feels amazing. It’s like an out of body experience. 

He pulls back just enough so that he can look at you, but he doesn’t remove his arms, only shifts so that his hands are gently grasping your waist. You’ve never felt this way before—like all your nerves are being sent into overdrive. You’re alive with the smallest of touches. 

“I genuinely can’t fathom how any man has ever looked at you and not wanted to make you theirs on the spot. I could scoop you up and keep you all to myself right now.”

This time you manage to maintain eye contact with him. You grin, biting the inside of your lip. “Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m feeling really brave right now so if you were serious about that kissing stuff, this might be the time to act.”

Buck tosses his head back, gleeful laughter filling the small space of your front porch. Even so, his hands move up to the sides of your neck, fingers warm against your skin. “You’re sure?” he asks, his thumb caressing your pulse. He feels a kick of cockiness knowing he’s done that to you. 

“I’m sure,” you say. Nod your head one firm time.

“Maybe your cheek first? As a warm up?”

You nod again. You’ve officially steeled yourself. Buck bends to meet you, tilting your head back just slightly so that he can reach you from a better angle. His hand cups the back of your neck as he presses his lips to your cheek. He’s so sure of himself, so passionate about this small thing, that it feels sensual. It puts you in a trance. His lips remain on your cheek for just a minute, the beginnings of stubble scratching at your skin. You have the urge to giggle like a frenzied teen.

“How was that?”

You bite your lip, hating the way you’re buzzing with adrenaline, filling with excitement at all these new sensations. But more so, you feel so special. So seen. You feel fuller than you ever have before at being treated so gently, being cherished and looked at like you’re this precious being. “I really, really liked it,” you tell him.

“Well, I’m glad.” He winks. “I did too.” He relishes in your little giggle. “How about a real one before we call it a night?”

You’re nodding again. “Yes. I would like that very much. I just want you to know that I might be really bad at it and I’m probably gonna embarrass myself and it’s probably going to be the worst, most awful kiss you’ve ever had and—”

Buck’s lips are on yours, successfully shutting you up. You squeak. 

In truth, it does feel pretty awkward for the first few seconds, buck Buck takes it in stride. Doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable, just takes what you’re giving him and guides you in a better direction. He tips your head back again, slotting his lips over yours and pressing himself to you. Your brain goes completely quiet. You can’t think or feel anything that isn’t Buck. This feeling spreads throughout your body, easing the ache in your chest, making you feel light on your toes.

Relief.

You admittedly have no idea what you’re doing but try your best to follow his lead, trying to kiss him back with as much passion as you’re feeling inside, tentatively threading your fingers through his hair, setting a hand on his chest. At one point, his tongue runs over your bottom lip and you shiver. Buck’s hand flies to the small of your back, keeping you grounded. You let it happen, curious as to how it might feel. You don’t have words. He licks into your mouth, and you giggle. It makes him smile and he separates from you long enough to enquire what’s got you laughing. 

“I just realized what people mean when a couple looks like they’re eating each other's faces. It’s really nice, actually. Not as gross as people make it out to be.”

Buck snorts. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, already scrambling to get his mouth back on yours. He doesn’t feel like teasing, letting you pull him down, letting you try and lead this one. You’re so gentle—trying to figure out the right way, the way that works for the both of you, to kiss him. He likes that you treat him so carefully.

When you finally end the kiss, you break the silence created by an intense few minutes of eye contact. “Was I bad? You can tell me, I know I was a little clumsy at the least.”

“Nah, not bad,” Buck says. “You’re a quick learner. I enjoyed it. Ten out of ten, would do it again.”

“Me too. Practice makes perfect, right?”

————

For the past few weeks, things with Buck have been going well. Since that first night out, he’s prioritized getting to know you better, spending time with you that doesn’t revolve around a nasty fire and the plethora of causes it may or may not have had. Time that doesn’t allow for any of your coworkers to pick and tease. 

Buck is starting to feel like one of your best friends. That was cemented the night he watched you play Resident Evil 7: Biohazard, enraptured by how quickly you were solving the puzzles and taking down those grimy basement monsters that, frankly, scared the shit out of him. You only told him that you’d played at least four times at the end of the evening. But hey, all your romance novels have told you that the best relationships are based on solid friendships. 

You’ve had the opportunity to kiss him more, some of it sweet and exploratory, you being courageous enough to ask Buck how he likes to be kissed, if he likes it when you tug his hair, if there’s anything you can change or do differently. He’ll only answer those questions if you do first, telling him what’s working and what you want more of. As useful as all of this communication is, it was tremendously embarrassing to share your intimate thoughts with him at first. 

Some of the kissing has gotten a bit heavier. The first time you sat in his lap ran through your mind constantly for days after, appearing in your dreams, day and night. You couldn’t get over the way he felt beneath you—solid, warm, so real. How he sounded when he kissed you, how his hands felt on your hips and the curve of your ass. How it had felt when he’d encouraged you to grind against him for the first time. You hadn’t meant to moan, but it was like relief had shot through you. Like your imagination was finally getting to take a break because now you were actually doing the things you imagined. You felt so alive, so powerful, feeling him get hard between your legs, hearing the strain in his voice as he encouraged you to keep moving until you finished. 

Tonight is the first night of your long weekend. Neither of you have shifts for the next few days, and you took it upon yourself to ask if he’d like to stay over, maybe get takeout and watch a movie or something. It hadn’t been meant as a request with the hope that it would turn into something more. Frankly, you’ve been feeling more shy since that moment you shared a few weeks ago. 

You hadn’t expected to watch a movie in your bed instead of on the couch, hadn’t expected to pause it halfway through because Buck’s stare was practically burning a hole through the side of your head and you had to figure out what was up. 

“You’re staring, Buck. Is something wrong?”

He’d laughed. It was unlike a laugh you’d heard from him before. It felt sensual. It felt laced with want. 

“Nah, nothing’s wrong. I just can’t get you out of my head.”

Your eyebrows had bunched together. “But…I’m right here. Shouldn’t that help?” That laugh again. 

“That’s not what I mean, sweetheart. I mean that I can’t stop thinking about fucking you with my fingers.”

And that’s how you’d ended up on your back, head pressed to your pillows, with Buck hovering over you. He’s kissing you, dragging his tongue over the sides of your neck and kissing a trail back right back up. His hand is resting on your collarbone, fingers tilting you up to him.

“How’s this feel?” he asks, voice muffled against your shoulder. 

“G-good,” you manage. “Really good.”

He pulls back, sitting back on his knees and setting his hands on your thighs. “Yeah? You’ve been squirming an awful lot.”

The heat radiating off of you, the way you cover your mouth with the back of your hand is enough of a response. Buck doesn’t say anything more, the both of you sitting in silence for a few minutes. He knows you want to say something. But he won’t force it out of you. He’ll wait until you use your words. 

“Buck?” Your voice is a whisper. He hums. You clear your throat, and he bites his lip to hide the pride racing through him at knowing he’s got you all flustered. “What you said before, about touching me? I want you to do it.”

“Yeah?” His smile is so gorgeous, so cocky, and if you weren’t so dazed with lust you might reach out and smack him. 

“Yeah,” you say. You give him your best, pleading eyes. That’s the first time you’ve ever looked at him that way, and Buck knows that he’s gonna give in any time you do from here on out. He leans back down, kissing you again. You take one of his hands and bring it between your legs, encouraging him to cup you. “You’ve been kissin’ me like that for so long…already feel pretty wound up.”

He nudges your nose with his, a smirk playing on his lips. He sets his palm down against you, over your shorts. The heel digs into your clit and he starts rubbing you, slow, but firm enough that you gasp. Your hips buck.

“Honestly,” he says, “I’d thought about teasing you, but I feel like you deserve this, after all that patient waiting you’ve done. Is that what you want?”

His middle finger presses over your hole. You’re so warm. He can feel how damp you’ve gotten, that you’ve started to soak through your panties. 

“Please,” you breathe. “Want you to touch me, so bad, Buck.” You brace your hands on his shoulders, feeling like all this pent up sexual energy is just begging to come out. You feel feral. 

“Okay, baby, okay. Let me get your shorts off, alright?” He taps your hip and you lift up, letting him slide them down your legs.

“Oh, um,” he pauses, a concerned look on his face. “I just wanted to tell you, I-I haven’t shaved or anything. I mean, I trimmed like a week ago, but, if that bothers you, I-” 

“Hey, no big deal,” Buck says. “Doesn’t matter to me. Not ever gonna stop me from making my girl feel good.”

My girl. 

That alone felt like an orgasm.

He pulls your panties down, and you feel heat rising to your face when he marvels at how they stick to you. But the second Buck lays eyes on your perfect little pussy, he’s the one feeling dazed. 

“How no one has ever touched you like this…” He licks a stripe up your inner thigh. “How no one has ever told you how much they fucking want you, never fallen on their knees for you…” He spreads your legs farther, shamelessly trying to memorize every detail of you. “Is beyond me.” 

Buck sets his middle and ring finger on the hood of your clit, starting to rub you in slow, agonizing circles. 

“Because I feel like I could devour you right now.” 

Your feet slide up the bedsheets, legs bending at the knee and allowing Buck to get more comfortable as he settles between them. Buck sets his chin on top of your knee. He’s watching his own hand and how it moves over you. His left hand is pushing up your t-shirt just a little so that he’s massaging the fat of your hip. For a moment he pictures holding onto said hips while he fucks you for the first time, imagines what sounds you might make, and he has to keep himself from letting out a moan.

Buck slides his fingers down to circle your hole, reveling in how soft your skin is, how warm and messy and perfect. He gathers some of your arousal on the tips of his fingers, dragging it up through your lips and over your clit. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

You swallow hard, looking up at him. “Feels good. When you do t-that—jesus—the up and down? It’s so nice, but the circles, that’s what will get me to—” 

“That’s what’ll get you to come all over my fingers?” 

You moan. It’s high pitched and whiny, a sound you didn’t know you could make. You force the words out of your throat. “Yes.”

“You wanna take a finger now?” Buck kisses your knee. You’re pretty sure he’s sucked a hickey into the skin above it while you’ve been otherwise distracted. 

“Please, please, Buck, I need to know how it feels—fuck!”

Buck’s fingers are bigger than yours. Much bigger. The sight of him hovering above you, his eyes almost black, burning with desire for you, really does you in. He starts slow: a few soft thrusts of his finger rubbing your walls, exploring the inside of you. 

Then he curls his finger upwards. Your eyes roll back in your head and at the same time your body gives away how fucking turned on you are, how desperate you are for him—and it’s loud. 

You’re so wet that your pussy squelches. Something about that sound flips a switch in Buck, and you’re crying out as he adds a second finger, curling them both, clearly enjoying the filthy sounds you’re making. 

Buck pushes your knee down and away, settling completely beside you, propped up so he can see your face properly while he’s fingering you within an inch of your life. The way he’s looking at you tells you that he’s going to make you come soon. He’s making it a mission. He wants your orgasm as much as you do. He needs it.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. ‘M so glad you let me help out this time. I bet you’ve spent so many nights spread out on this bed, fucking yourself, doing all the work alone.”

Buck’s fingers are making you brainless. You feel blissful, so serene, so calm, so fucking good. He keeps curling his fingers, scissoring them every once in a while. You want to tell him that you can’t usually come just from this, that you need external stimulation. You grab onto his bicep. 

“Yeah, yeah, Buck—I have. You’re takin’ such good care of me.” He slows down his ministrations, letting you take a breather. Letting you gather your thoughts before he pushes you over the edge. You cup his cheek, pull him down for a kiss. He’s practically got hearts in his eyes. 

“Need you to play with my clit, B-Buckley. W-won’t come without it. I wanna come.”

You look down, suddenly entranced by the way Buck’s fingers are moving inside you. He follows your gaze, chuckling to himself. “You like to watch, pretty girl? Guess next time I’ll have to get you a mirror.”

Buck pulls his fingers out of your pussy and you whine. You shiver. You feel so empty. But all is forgotten when he puts the very same fingers that were just inside of you into his mouth. He maintains eye contact with you while he sucks them clean. You moan, despite the fact that he’s not touching you. It’s just so fucking sexy.

His hand returns to your drenched skin, fingers pressing firmly against your clit. 

“Where’s that spot, huh?” he asks. “Show me where it feels the best.” You guide him, a little to your left, that spot on the hood of your clit, not directly on it where the stimulation will be too much, but the spot that has you arching your back, quite possibly more revved up than you ever have been before. 

Buck is quick to begin soothing those precise little circles again, a look of determination on his face. For a moment, neither of you say anything. There’s only the sound of your breathing, the wet, filthy sound of him rubbing at your clit.

That telltale heat spreads its way through your low belly, through the tops of your thighs, through your pelvis, up your spine. It’s right there, you think. 

“Fuck, I’m—” The words are barely out of your mouth by the time your orgasm washes over you, making the room go fuzzy, shrouding you in pure, thoughtless bliss. He fucks you through it, rubbing you until you’re twitching, successfully overstimulated. 

You lay there, covered in a sheen of sweat, attempting to restore your breathing to a normal rhythm when he comes back with a damp cloth. You’d been able to tell him where they were, tell him you could clean yourself up, but he insisted. He wipes you off, gets you clean underwear and a fresh t-shirt. 

You sit on the edge of your bed, taking in your surroundings, taking in your own feelings about what you’ve just done. You feel so nice. So special. Confident in yourself and your body. 

You feel happy. Having this little piece of you cared for so well doesn’t make you whole. You didn’t need the experience to feel complete, or like it made you normal. But you do feel powerful. This was just the icing on top of the cake. Something of a treat. You wish you could think of another way to put it, but you feel like a badass woman. 

Buck’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He bumps your shoulder. 

“I was gonna ask if you enjoyed yourself, but…I mean, I did kind of see that you did.”

You laugh, taking his hand in both of yours. “I did, Buck. I’m glad I got to do that with you. It was perfect for me.”

He shoots you a wink. “Good. And I did wanna preface that I’ll be here whenever you’re ready to do all the other stuff.” He watches the way your eyes crinkle up as you smile. 

“I look forward to doing all that other stuff with you. But for now…wanna have a sleepover?”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[writeriguess]

Hey hun! Welcome back 😘

So, i have a kind of slow burn idea for a Bakugo x fem!reader fic. They both like each other and when she tries to ask him out or talk to him about it, he's kind of an ass 😅

He thinks she'll be in the way or a distraction to his goal, so he pushes her away. He can't get her out of his head though and their friends tell him he's being an idiot. Eventually, he cracks and tells her (in his very 'katsuki' way) that he does want to be with her.

Angst ending with lots of fluff, confessions, and a kiss please!

author's note: Thank you so much! <3 I just wanted to say that your idea was incredible, and I had such a great time writing it. It turned out to be much longer than I expected, but it was definitely worth it!

Heart of Dynamite

It started with stolen glances. You weren’t sure when you first noticed, but something about the way Bakugo Katsuki acted around you was different. He wasn’t nice, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something else buried beneath the rough edges and sharp remarks. A fleeting glance when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he always seemed to hover nearby during group exercises, subtly ensuring you didn’t get caught off guard.

You weren’t blind. You saw the way his crimson eyes would flick to you during lunch, only for him to look away just as quickly if you caught him. You noticed how his explosions during sparring would seem almost… controlled when directed your way—less destructive, more calculated. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you wonder. Enough to make you hope.

The problem was, Bakugo being Bakugo, he’d never admit to something as human as feelings. If he did like you, he was keeping it buried under a mountain of anger, pride, and whatever complicated emotions made up Katsuki Bakugo.

But still, the moments added up. And with each passing day, your crush grew stronger. You hated the way your heart fluttered when he called you by name instead of his usual nicknames for everyone else. You hated how you’d secretly look forward to his biting remarks because, in some twisted way, it was his version of paying attention to you.

And most of all, you hated how much courage it took to even consider confessing to him.

After weeks of agonizing over it, you finally decided you couldn’t live with the "what if." No matter what, you needed to know.

The opportunity came on a rare quiet evening at the dorms. Everyone else had gone out for karaoke, leaving you and Bakugo alone. He was sprawled on the couch in the common area, his arms crossed, staring at some mindless action movie playing on the TV.

You hovered at the doorway, your heart racing. You almost turned back, but then his gruff voice interrupted your thoughts.

"What the hell are you standing there for? You look like a damn idiot."

You flinched, but quickly steeled yourself. "I just… needed to ask you something."

His gaze flicked to you, crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "Then spit it out already. Don’t waste my time."

Your hands were clammy as you stepped closer, each word feeling heavier than the last. "Do you… want to go out with me? Like, on a date?"

For a moment, Bakugo just stared at you. His usual scowl didn’t shift, but you could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes—so quick you almost missed it. His jaw tensed, his hands clenching into fists on his lap.

Then, he scoffed. Loudly.

"You serious?" he said, leaning back against the couch like your question was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. "Why the hell would I want to go out with you?"

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your throat tightened, and your chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

"I mean, come on," he continued, his tone sharp and cutting. "What makes you think I’d waste my time on something dumb like that?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but not from embarrassment—from the sting of his rejection. You struggled to keep your voice steady. "I just thought… maybe—"

"Well, you thought wrong," he cut you off, his voice cold and unrelenting. "So stop acting like some lovesick idiot and get over it."

The silence that followed was unbearable. You felt like the floor had been ripped out from under you, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to step back.

"Got it," you said finally, your voice small and strained. You turned on your heel before he could see the tears pooling in your eyes.

Bakugo didn’t move. He stayed on the couch, staring at the TV that he wasn’t really watching. His nails dug into his palms, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath, though he wasn’t sure if he was talking about you—or himself.

Hours passed, but Bakugo didn’t leave the couch. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind: the look on your face, the way your voice had cracked when he tore you down.

He hated himself for it. Hated the way he’d lashed out, even though he knew it was because he was terrified. Of what? He didn’t know. Maybe of admitting to himself that he cared. Maybe of the fact that you could make him feel so out of control with just one stupid question.

But now it was too late. He’d pushed you away.

You, on the other hand, locked yourself in your room, curled up on your bed, and let the tears flow. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid, so naive. Of course Bakugo didn’t like you. Of course he didn’t care. You’d just been projecting your feelings onto him, imagining things that weren’t really there.

Still, the hurt lingered. You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, that you’d move on, but the ache in your chest said otherwise.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting downstairs, fists clenched, consumed by his own turmoil. Because for all his bluster, he’d never wanted to hurt you. He just didn’t know how to deal with the truth: that he did like you, more than he was willing to admit.

Bakugo tried to convince himself that what he’d said to you was necessary. He had goals—real, tangible goals—and nothing, no one, was going to distract him. Becoming the Number One Hero wasn’t just a dream for him; it was a mission, an obligation, a destiny he was determined to carve out with his own blood, sweat, and tears. He didn’t need complications. He didn’t need feelings. He didn’t need you. That’s what he told himself over and over as he sat alone in his dorm room, glaring at the wall like it had personally offended him. His fists were clenched tightly in his lap, the tendons in his hands straining from the pressure.

But no matter how hard he tried to justify it, he couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind. The way your expression had crumbled when he snapped at you, the hurt in your eyes as you turned and walked away—it all replayed in his head on an endless, agonizing loop. He could still hear your voice trembling when you’d asked him out, soft and vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to hearing from you. You weren’t the kind of person who let your guard down easily, and he’d taken that rare moment of courage and crushed it underfoot.

“Tch,” he growled under his breath, running a hand through his hair and gripping the strands in frustration. “Stupid.”

He thought that pushing you away would make things easier, but it didn’t. If anything, it made everything worse. You were everywhere. Every time he walked into a room, his eyes automatically searched for you, even when he told himself they wouldn’t. When you laughed with your friends, the sound sent an irritating warmth through his chest, only to be followed by a sharp pang of regret when he remembered the look on your face that night. During training, he found himself tracking your every move without even meaning to, his instincts on high alert every time you dodged an attack or threw a punch. He hated it. Hated how you’d wormed your way into his head and refused to leave. Hated how much he wanted to be near you, even after he’d made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with you.

It didn’t help that everyone else seemed to notice his turmoil. His friends had started giving him strange looks during meals, their eyes darting between him and you as if they were waiting for something to happen. Kirishima, in particular, had been annoyingly persistent, watching him with that infuriatingly knowing expression he always wore when he thought Bakugo was being an idiot. Bakugo did his best to ignore it, but the tension was impossible to escape.

One evening, when the others were hanging out in the common area, Kirishima finally confronted him. Bakugo had been sitting on the couch, staring at his phone without really looking at it, when Kirishima plopped down beside him with a heavy sigh. Mina and Kaminari weren’t far behind, hovering nearby like vultures waiting for a meal.

“Alright, spill it,” Kirishima said, his voice casual but firm. Bakugo barely spared him a glance.

“Spill what?” he snapped, his tone as sharp as ever.

“Don’t play dumb,” Mina chimed in, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him. “You’ve been acting weird for days, and we all know why.”

“I’m not in the mood for this crap,” Bakugo growled, standing up to leave, but Kirishima quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Bakugo glared at him, his crimson eyes blazing. “Move.”

“Not until you admit what’s going on,” Kirishima said, his voice steady despite the obvious tension in the air. “You pushed her away, didn’t you?”

Bakugo froze, his scowl deepening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kirishima said, his tone unusually serious. “Come on, man. It’s so obvious you like her. Everyone can see it.”

“I don’t—”

“Save it,” Mina interrupted, stepping closer with a look that could cut through steel. “We’ve seen the way you look at her. And don’t even get me started on the way you lose your mind whenever she partners up with someone else during training. You care about her, and instead of doing something about it, you’re being a total dumbass.”

Bakugo’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t have time for this crap,” he muttered, shoving past Kirishima and heading for the door. But before he could leave, Kirishima’s voice rang out behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

“You think pushing her away will make you stronger,” Kirishima said, his voice softer now, almost sad. “But all you’re doing is proving how scared you are.”

Bakugo’s shoulders tensed, his hand gripping the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out,” Kirishima continued, his tone unwavering. “But running from it won’t make it go away.”

For a moment, Bakugo didn’t move. The room was silent, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, he yanked the door open and walked out, slamming it shut behind him without another word.

That night, Bakugo lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling with an intensity that could have set it on fire. Kirishima’s words echoed in his head, mingling with the memory of your voice and the image of your face. He hated how much it all got to him, how much he couldn’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tried. He hated the way his chest ached every time he thought about the hurt in your eyes and the way you’d walked away from him, your shoulders slumped in defeat. But most of all, he hated how much he wanted to see you again, to fix things, to say something—anything—that could make up for what he’d done.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to move on. You’d been avoiding Bakugo as much as possible, throwing yourself into training and schoolwork to keep your mind occupied. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time you saw him, whether it was in class or during meals, you felt a sharp pang of hurt that refused to go away. You hated how much he still affected you, even after he’d made it painfully clear that he didn’t feel the same way.

But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you’d be fine without him, the ache in your chest lingered. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong to hope, if you’d been foolish to believe that he might have cared about you even a little.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting in his room, wrestling with his own feelings and cursing himself for the way he’d handled things. Because for all his bravado and pride, the truth was unavoidable: he couldn’t stop thinking about you. And the more he tried to push you out of his mind, the more you consumed his every thought.

The days following your rejection from Bakugo had been a haze of hurt and confusion. You tried to keep yourself busy—extra training, study sessions, anything to keep your mind from replaying the harsh way he’d dismissed you. But no matter how much you told yourself to let it go, it lingered. You still felt the sting of his words, the way he’d looked at you like you were an obstacle instead of someone he cared about. That wound didn’t heal easily.

You avoided him as much as you could. You’d shift to a different group during training, sit at the far end of the cafeteria during meals, and leave the common area whenever he showed up. It wasn’t as subtle as you hoped; your friends noticed, and you were pretty sure Bakugo did too. Still, you couldn’t face him—not after everything he’d said.

What you didn’t know was that your absence weighed on him far more than he let on.

Bakugo was not a man who easily admitted to mistakes. Pride had been ingrained in him from an early age, and he carried it like armor. But lately, that armor felt suffocating, like it was pressing in on him from all sides. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop replaying the hurt in your eyes when he’d lashed out. Every time he saw you purposely turning away from him or laughing with someone else, he felt a sharp pang of regret that he didn’t know how to fix.

Kirishima’s words lingered too. “You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out. But running from it won’t make it go away.” As much as Bakugo wanted to punch him for saying it, he knew it was true. He’d been running from his feelings because they terrified him. You terrified him—not because you were weak, but because of how much power you had over him without even realizing it. And that was what scared him most of all.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. Watching you avoid him, knowing he’d been the one to hurt you—it was eating him alive. If he didn’t do something soon, he was going to explode.

That’s what led him here, standing awkwardly a few feet away from where you sat on the bench outside. You hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on the notebook in your lap. For a moment, he hesitated, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar. Was this… nerves? He growled under his breath, frustrated with himself. He was Bakugo Katsuki, for crying out loud. He didn’t get nervous.

“Oi.” His voice came out rougher than he intended, and you jumped slightly, startled by his sudden presence.

You looked up, your eyes widening for a split second before your expression hardened. “What do you want?”

Bakugo flinched at the coldness in your tone, though he tried to hide it. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” you asked, already sounding exasperated. “If this is about training or some stupid lecture—”

“It’s not about training,” he cut in, stepping closer. His jaw tightened as he tried to find the right words. He wasn’t good at this, but he had to try. “It’s about what I said to you before.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into your expression. “Why are you bringing that up now? You already made your feelings perfectly clear, Bakugo. I don’t need to hear it again.”

He winced at the way you said his name—so formal, so distant. You used to call him Katsuki, back when things were simpler. Back when he hadn’t ruined everything.

“Just shut up and listen for a second, will you?” he snapped, though there was no real heat in his voice. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I… I screwed up, alright? I said some shit I didn’t mean, and I hurt you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your expression softened slightly, but your arms remained crossed, a barrier he knew he’d have to break through. “Then why did you do it? Why push me away if you didn’t mean it?”

“Because I’m a goddamn idiot,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. His gaze dropped to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. “I thought… I thought if I let myself like you, I’d lose focus. That you’d get in the way of my goals.”

“And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Now I know that’s total bullshit,” he said, finally looking up to meet your eyes. “You don’t make me weaker. You make me want to be better. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my head all the damn time, and it’s driving me insane.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, but you still hesitated. “You really hurt me, Katsuki,” you said softly, the pain evident in your voice. “I don’t know if I can just forget that.”

He stepped closer, his gaze intense and unwavering. “I’m not asking you to forget it. I’m asking for a chance to fix it. I was a dumbass, and I don’t deserve it, but… I want to try. With you.”

The vulnerability in his voice was so raw, so uncharacteristic, that it left you speechless. You searched his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was regret and determination.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this,” he interrupted, his hands twitching at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m not some smooth-talking idiot like Kaminari, and I’m probably gonna screw up a hundred more times. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m not gonna hurt you again.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his words sank in. This was Bakugo Katsuki—the same boy who never admitted when he was wrong, who bulldozed his way through life without looking back. And here he was, laying his pride at your feet, just for a chance to make things right.

“You’re really bad at this, you know,” you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

He huffed, his cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly my strong suit.”

You laughed softly, the sound making his chest tighten in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. For the first time in weeks, you felt the tension between you start to dissolve.

“So, what now?” you asked, taking a tentative step closer.

“Now I do this,” he said, his voice low as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he leaned in. His crimson eyes searched yours for a moment, and when you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance and kissed you.

The kiss was tentative at first, almost shy, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your hands reaching up to grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer. He kissed you like he was trying to make up for every moment he’d wasted, pouring all the unspoken feelings he couldn’t put into words into that one act.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads resting together, you were both breathless. He smirked, his usual cocky confidence creeping back in. “Told you I’d make it up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “You’ve got a long way to go, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed the gruffness of his tone. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around and prove it.”

And for the first time in weeks, everything felt right.

Feel free to request <3

[alg3a]

hellooo your smuts brought me back from the grave and if you’re taking any requests, i would love to see your take on a jayce x fem reader. i kind of want to see a shy student scenario with a pervy student jayce 😩 omg pls tell me you see the vision lol!

hello! YESSS i definitely see the vision, i hope i executed it alright! thank you so much for this request. i was sort of worried at first because i don’t typically write for jayce alone—normally i just write jayvik or viktor—but this was SOOOO much fun! probably actually my favorite of the three fics i have so far. hope you enjoy!

staring

pervy!jayce x innocent!f!reader

3.9k, MDNI, no use of y/n

description: After setting eyes on the handsome boy in your lecture, and staring at him every class after that, you find out that your father has sponsored his research and invited him to dinner. After a particularly frustrating meal, you run upstairs to your room, not expecting him to follow you.

warnings: nsfw, fem receiving oral, pervy jayce, innocent/inexperienced reader, sneaky sex, equal bits plot and porn i think, jayce covers readers mouth, creampie, hooray!

a/n: this is my first ever request! i hope i did it some justice. if you like it, feel free to send your own request! i don’t have guidelines yet, but chances are i’ll writer whatever you suggest.

The first time you saw him was across the circular lecture hall and you were quickly drawn in, fixated on every tiny movement of his. You didn’t even notice that you were staring until you realized he caught you. It was near impossible not to look at him, with his wide ambitious eyes and even wider shoulders, he was a difficult sight to steer away from. That didn’t make it any less embarrassing when he noticed your lingering gaze.

The position he caught you in was so juvenile and schoolgirl-esque that it seemed only fitting for a bright pink blush to span your face. You had a palm against your cheek, your head slightly tilted, and your bottom lip was caught between your front teeth. Your right leg crossed your leg and the suspended foot swung in tiny little distracted circles below your desk.

When his eyes landed on yours, his eyebrows furrowed a bit. Not out of anger, more like he was trying to focus his gaze on you to see whether or not you were really staring at him. Then a little smile crept onto his lips around the same time you had realized that he had caught you and you instantly averted your gaze. You tried not to look at him again during lecture, but whenever the professor in the center of the circular lecture hall crossed in front of him, your eyes stayed behind and you allowed yourself a glance in his direction.

You wondered how you hadn’t noticed him before. Perhaps this was the first time he sat in that spot so far this semester. If that was the case, it certainly wasn’t the last time he sat there. For the next few weeks, he was amongst the first students to arrive in lecture and always made sure to secure that exact same seat, not one to the left, right, or above. You’d never seen anybody be so particular about a seat in lecture before. Not even you, who had a penchant for patterns and regulation.

Each passing class only stoked your burning obsession with this boy, whose name you didn’t even know. It got so bad that you had difficulty paying attention in class some days, which was totally unlike you. You were a perfect student, always dedicated and responsible in school, so why now? Why this one pretty boy in one silly lecture?

Your father wasn’t happy when you let him know you received a C on your midterm.

You came from an upper house in Piltover and you were your parents’ only daughter. There was an absurd amount of pressure on you to uphold the standards so eloquently listed by your older siblings and your parents.

“How will it affect your class grade?” Your mother asks sensibly, her voice low and polite and she sets out her favorite dishes from the china cabinet.

“Well, it’s not good,” you begin to say, ready to explain how what really matters is your final project and the final assessment, how they’re weighted more heavily, but your father interrupts.

“Not good?” He chortles, spread out in his armchair the room over. “Abhorrent is more like it!”

“Dad,” you begin to plead, but you are once again interrupted.

“Enough! I’ll look into a tutor and you will spend your time studying and asking your professor for extra credit.”

You hated when he did this. You weren’t a kid anymore, if you wanted a tutor you’d ask a classmate or a TA, and you had read your syllabus enough to know that your professor didn’t afford extra credit to his students. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself in school…or at least that’s what you thought. After all, if a silly crush on a stranger in lecture was enough to tank your grades, were you really all that capable?

You could’ve argued with your dad, but decided against it. It was almost time for dinner and you didn’t want to ruin your appetite with a fight.

“Go get dressed, dear, we’re having a guest for dinner tonight,” your mother said, changing the tone of the conversation.

“Who?” You asked, realizing that she was taking the good china out for a reason.

“One of the students that your father has decided to sponsor.”

Oh, that’s right. The academy just had their Innovation Gala, in which the young inventors of Piltover are given the opportunity to wow rich folks with their ideas in hopes of receiving some funding. Your father had been extending his fortune to students since you were very young. He saw them more as business opportunities than as students.

“Well, who are they?”

“A bright young man,” your father said, his mood instantly lightening. “Lots of promise. A grade or two above you, I believe.”

You think of the inventors you’ve met at the academy as you go upstairs to your bedroom to change, wondering who the guest will be.

You slip into a knee-length powder blue dress and a soft white sweater. You’re brushing your hair when you hear the doorbell ring from downstairs. Muffled exchanges between your parents and the mystery guest pass through your closed bedroom door. You’re applying your lipgloss and staring into your vanity when your mind begins to wander. You can’t get your mind off of the boy from lecture. Would he like this shade of lipgloss? Would he like your dress, your sweater, your shoes, your hair…

Your father shouts your name from downstairs. “Come down, it’s time for dinner!”

You sheath your lipgloss and straighten out your dress before heading downstairs. You're halfway down the spiral staircase before you can see tonight’s guest, and when you do, you aren’t sure you have enough strength in your legs to keep walking down.

He calls your name again, this time wearing a smile on his mouth. Your father had a tendency to turn into a jovial old man when around people that weren’t you or your family.

“Come, meet Jayce,” he says, his arm wrapped around the boy from your lecture.

You only realize how hard you're gripping the railing once you reach the bottom of the stairs. You force a polite smile past your agape expression and walk toward your father and the boy. Your father is by no means a short man, but the boy towers over him. It’s impossible not to pay attention to how his dress shirt clings to his chest, or how the collar wraps neatly around his strong neck, leaving a glimpse of his bobbing Adam’s apple.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you hold out your hand and he takes it, gingerly. He brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it softly as his eyes remain on yours.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says, shooting a flaming arrow straight through your thudding heart. “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but we have a class together, don’t we?”

Wonderful. Not only would you have to play polite with this handsome stranger, you’d have to endure the rest of the night knowing he’d caught you staring at him with bright doe eyes in the middle of class. How ironic that the boy responsible for your sinking grades would be seated beside your father tonight at dinner.

“Oh, I think you’re right,” you smile, eyes widening in feigned surprise. “Applied physics?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” he says, finally releasing your hand just as it’s about to get clammy from your excitement and anxiety. He claps your father on the back. “Your daughter is a marvel in that class, really. She’s constantly answering questions and asking even more insightful ones.”

A lie? Why?

“Is that so?” Your father asks, seemingly forgetting his prior rage at your subpar grade.

Jayce nods as your father leads you all to the dining room, where your two older brothers are already sitting. Your father takes his seat at the head of the table, your mother at the opposite end. You sit between him and Jayce, across from your brothers.

For a while, Jayce spends some time introducing himself to the two boys across from you, entertaining their small talk and questions about whatever invention sparked our father’s interest at the gala. You couldn’t focus much on the details, too distracted by the fact that your lecture crush was seated beside you in your own home, at the dinner table you’ve been eating at for twenty years. He spoke so eloquently, so politely that you thought for a second that he might have overlooked your embarrassing moment in lecture so many days ago. Perhaps it hadn’t lived in his head the same way it had haunted you.

The maids brought out the food and you began to eat. You sipped on champagne and did your best to avert your gaze from Jayce, but he got in the way of that attempt.

“So tell me,” he said, turning his attention to you, “how do you like physics?”

How did you like physics? What sort of a question was that?

“It’s a good class,” you say, simply. “I like the professor’s lecture style, it’s very…personal. I detest professors who just read from the notes and expect it to resonate.”

“Right, I’ve noticed how closely you pay attention in that class.”

It takes every ounce of self-collection you have not to choke on your champagne. Was he teasing you? Was that his way of secretly calling you out for ogling at him for every minute of the hour-long lecture?

No, you must be paranoid. Maybe he really meant it, after all he had already oversold your attentiveness in that class once tonight.

“Yes, right.”

“Truly,” he says, and you risk looking over at him beside you. “You look so enamored. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were daydreaming…lost in fantasies.”

You set your glass down with a slam.

“Mind your manners, darling,” your mother says as you collect your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you say shakily, dabbing at the splattered drink on the tablecloth with your napkin.

You hurry to finish your meal as your father changes the subject, discussing some stupid business matter of his. You can’t hear anything over the pounding of your heart in its cage. Once your dish is empty, you set your utensils down and look pointedly at your father.

“May I be excused?”

“Sweetheart, don’t be rude,” he says, his eyebrows straightening into a firm line. “We have a guest.”

“Oh, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that…I have an assignment to work on and I really don’t want my grades to slip any further.” You lie, avoiding Jayce’s eyes, although you feel them boring into the back of your head as you look at your father.

“Very well,” he says, with a wave of his hand. “You may be excused.”

You slam your napkin on the table and walk hurriedly up the stairs. You shut your door with a slam louder than you meant, but you can’t concern yourself with that now. You lay face down in your four-post bed and throw the sweater off of your arms before screaming into a pillow.

Cruel! He was just being cruel. If your staring in class hadn’t made your crush obvious, surely your behavior tonight had sold you out. Stupid, stupid, stupid! You groan out into the pillow before a slight creak of your door snaps you out of your fit.

You turn over, expecting to see your father and already thinking of ways to explain your current exasperated position, but it’s not him.

“What are you doing in my room?” You ask, coming to a seated position with your legs bent ever so slightly atop your ivory comforter.

“You mean, this isn’t the restroom?” Jayce asks, a small smirk on his mouth as he walks slowly toward you like a predator about to pounce. “I guess I didn’t follow your mother’s directions very well.”

“What are you doing?” You ask again.

He laughs and shrugs his shoulders. “Cute room.” He looks around for a moment before his gaze falls back on you, lying so delicately on your bed, just waiting… “Pretty close to what I imagined.”

“What you imagined?” You repeat, seemingly only able to ask questions right now.

“Mhm,” he says, finally reaching the edge of your bed. He stands over you, looming like a tower, preventing any light from reaching you. “Can you blame me? I’ve seen how you look at me during lectures.” He pauses to laugh. “You’d think I was the one lecturing the way you stare, and stare, and stare…”

“That’s not–” you try to defend yourself, but you can’t. You have no reason, no explanation, no excuse. No words.

“I don’t mind,” he says, his smile widening. “It’s cute. The way you cross and uncross your legs when I catch you looking. Oh but before that, when you’re resting your cheek on your hand and tilting your pretty little head… that’s the best.”

You look at him like he’s insane, and part of you thinks he actually might be. But the other part…

“Tell me,” he says, his knee resting on the edge of the bed, positioned for him to climb onto it if only you would just give the word. “What do you think about when you’re staring at me?”

“Jayce…” you mutter breathlessly, unsure whether or not you should say.

He leans over your sprawled out body and puts a delicate finger beneath your chin.

“You can tell me,” he smiles, his eyes betraying his true desire. “Chances are, I’ve had the same ideas.”

“I’ve,” you utter, barely able to get the words out as he pushes your head up ever so slightly, forcing you to make clearer eye contact with him. “I’ve thought about…”

Thinking those thoughts is one thing, but saying them out loud is completely different. It’s impossible.

“Use your words, honey,” he says, stroking your bottom lips with the calloused pad of his thumb, as if he were trying to coax the dirty words out.

“About laying on your table…in the empty lecture hall…”

“And?”

“And you’d…” you sigh, exasperated. Somehow trying to utter this sentence took more out of you than running a mile would. “You’d have your head…between my thighs.”

“Would I be tasting you, sweetheart?” He asks, a grin spreading across his face, revealing sharp canines. A new thought crept into your mind. What would those teeth feel like dragging your panties off? What would they feel like biting your thigh, or your neck?

“Yes,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own admission, although he pried it from your pretty, glossy pink lips. “Yes you’d be tasting me…”

“Attagirl,” he says, removing his hand from your chin and his knee from your bed.

For a moment, you aren’t sure what he’s going to do. Would he take this admission and run out of your room with it? Would he tell your parents? Would he tell his friends? Would you go to school the next day, the laughing stock of the academy?

He drops to his knees.

Your breath halts as his hands land on your knees, his eyes gazing up at you over the crest of the side of your mattress. His calloused palms rub the soft skin of your thighs, upward bound.

“Jayce?” You ask, knots in your stomach.

“I was right,” he says, the path his hands taking never ceasing. “We have had the same idea.”

He pushes up the fabric of your powder blue dress, pulling you slightly off of the bed so that his lips can find the inside of your thighs. He leaves soft kisses along them.

You watch as his hungry amber eyes flicker up, landing on your soft pink panties.

“Fuck,” he mutters against the plush skin of your thigh.

He pushes your thighs apart and pulls you closer by your hips. His nose presses against the wet spot on your panties and he takes a deep, slow breath. You watch as his eyes flicker shut, relishing the scent of you so close to him. The sight only makes you wetter.

“God, you smell so fucking good,” he groans. He flicks his tongue out and licks the fabric of your panties, leaving a damp spot. You twitch against the wet sensation, your thighs closing a bit but his hands are faster. He holds them down as he continues to tease you through the fabric.

“Jayce…” you begin to start your reprimand, ready to tell him to stop teasing you and just dive in, to eat you out like he’s starving, but you can’t utter any word other than, “please.”

“Please what, baby?” He asks, looking up with that wicked grin of his. “Use your words, remember?”

“Please…please taste me…”

You feel utterly deprecated just saying such dirty things to a man you only just officially met, but if the fantasies in your head were worth anything, you two were intimately acquainted by now. And to Jayce…well those fantasies seemed to be worth a lot.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, his hands sliding up your thighs to pull down the fabric separating his tongue from your pleasure. He’s quick to push your thighs back down again, regaining his control of your trembling body.

He makes sure he’s watching you when he administers his first slow, tantalizing lick. His eyes are hooded and hungry, and his hunger translates well.

“Oh my god…” you whimper as he tastes you.

He picks up speed, his tongue slicing through your folds and spending lots of time at your quivering clit. He licks and sucks and slobbers like he hasn’t had a meal in years, which you know to not be true. Such an appetite.

“Jayce,” you whimper, pleading, begging, but for what you do not know.

He moans against your clit as you say his name, the precious sound of your debased voice striking a delicate chord within him. The vibration of his moan against your core makes your back arch, and his eyes dart back up to you, to watch you suffer under his pleasure.

“I think–I think I’m close,” you whisper, breathlessly as your hands grab at the sheets above your head. You look so pretty, stretched out and suspended like that, your arms hanging above your head and your legs thrown out on either side of Jayce’s blur of dark hair and sharp features.

“Let it out, sweetheart,” Jayce muffles against you, his assault on your quivering clit not letting up one bit. “Let me hear it.”

You whine and squeal and thrash against his face, his hands squeezing hard to keep your thighs down so he can continue his job. You reach for his hair, just to have something solid to grab onto in your ecstasy, and he moans at the rough tug, the vibrations topping off your climax as your arched back grounds itself against your sheets again, descending alongside you.

He’s still hungry, and he hardly allows you any time to recover from your first orgasm, something you didn’t experience very often, especially not from the mouth of a man. Already, he’s climbing atop you, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down to reveal his long, fully hardened cock. You reach out with unsteady fingers to unbutton his fancy dress shirt, admiring the way it’s already gathered wrinkles from his rowdy behavior between your legs.

Now you’re equally dishevelled. Your lip gloss has been rubbed off by your hungry bites at your lip and his mouth shines with your arousal and his own spit. Your dress is polled up over your hips and his own shirt barely clings to his arms in its unbuttoned state. Your hair pools out beneath you and his still bears the marks of your tugging.

It’s heaven for Jayce to see you like this. He’s spent weeks admiring the prim and proper put together little rich girl across the lecture hall, imagining what she would look like fucked out beneath him, screaming his name and abandoning all manners. He wants to ruin you, and he will.

His lips crash against yours, your arousal and his spit providing you with new lip gloss. His tongue betrays his hunger, crashing against yours, pushing it aside as he explores each corner of your little mouth. All the while, his hands are creeping up your soft stomach and resting on your breasts beneath his heavy, muscled torso.

“Jayce, I want you…I want you inside me,” you mutter, gaining some boldness at the sight of his craving.

He doesn’t even have the strength to muster a reply. He intends on saving all of his energy for destroying your cute little cunt. He grabs his cock, pumping it a few times to spill out the precum resting on his tip. He aligns it with your tight entrance and spreads your arousal over it to provide aid in jamming it into you.

“Fuck!” You shout into his broad shoulder. “Oh fuck!”

He didn’t expect such naughty words to rip from your innocent little throat, but he delights in your reaction to him stretching you.

He rocks his hips in and out of you, slowly at first, but even he can’t hold himself back just for the sake of torturing you. He ruts into you, pathetic, needy. His body presses down onto you, your chest smushed against his as he leans on his forearm beside your head. He groans out at each desperate thrust into your tight cunt.

You’re no better. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, pulling him ever closer and deeper into you. Each kiss of his tip to your cervix elicits a loud whine from you, echoing through your room. Your ornate decorations and pristine shelves now act as a shallow veneer. You’re not so clean anymore. Not so innocent.

“Oh Jayce,” you moan breathily. “Just like that! Oh fuck!”

You’re a mess beneath him, muttering slutty little words that rise and fall in volume as his thrusts punctuate them. Jayce is so lost in pleasure that it takes him a minute to realize that your volume has become an issue.

He brings a hand over your mouth, the other arm still acting as support as he rests on his forearm. You taste the salt of his skin on his palm as he presses it to your soft lips.

“You make such pretty noises for me,” Jayce says softly, a groan interrupting his syllables every so often. “And you sound so good but you gotta be quiet, baby.”

Despite his words, his thrusts don’t soften and his grip on your mouth remains. Your moans continue, quietly, muffled against his strong hand. To prevent himself from moaning too loud, he bites down on your shoulder. Hard. It’s enough to send you over the edge, the pain rippling through your skin and down to your core.

You can tell he’s close too, by the way his bite hardens and his hips jut mercilessly into you. Your legs begin to tremble and you tilt your head back, your back arching off of the bed to press even closer against his chest.

He replaces his hand with his mouth, which does an equally good job of shutting you up. With a final rut of his hips into your cunt, he stifles a groan against your lips and you feel yourself filling with his seed. Your muscles relax, your toes uncurling and your chest resuming its breathing.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his head leading the fall onto the bed beside you. His hand wraps around your waist and he administers a final kiss to your forehead. “That was…”

“Just how you imagined it?”

“Better.”

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Imagine this ✋😌🤚 (Transformers Prime Wise) everyone is in the base chilling and the kids randomly start talking about who’s the most attractive of the bots (based on whatever random criteria list Miko made). while they are all going on about why their personal bot would definitely be popular they start arguing and suddenly call out to reader (who has been minding their business on the couch distracted reading a book or something) and asks them which autobot is most attractive, reader instinctively and with absolutely no hesitation blurts out the bot thats been on their mind for a while nonchalantly acting as if they didn’t pretty much confess their attraction and said bot definitely heard them. (I would love Ratchet or bulkhead, or bumblebee whichever one is easier to write for)(loved your Rodimus fic btw it was so cute 10/10) sorry this request was so long, it’s completely fine if you don’t wanna write this 😭

No need to apologize!! I'm so glad you liked the Rodimus one, it got rewritten like four times XP I still need to catch up on TFP, but I'm a little more familiar with Ratchet from it. I hope you enjoy!

Ratchet was too busy working to pay attention to what the humans were up to. This part had been busted for a week and he needed it for his next project. The talk was nothing but an annoying buzz in the background, occasionally becoming loud enough for him to huff or grunt to try and get them to quiet down.

Something about who the most attractive bot was. How childish! the criteria listed by Miko wasn't anywhere near Cybertronian beauty standards. What did a human know about biolights and kibble? The angular chassis of a tank compared to the smooth curves of a racer frame? This kids would make their observations and laugh, especially when Decepticons were the topic. Prime was called a "daddy" and Bee had "Puppy energy".

"What about you, Y/N?"

Ratchet listens a little closer, but still keeps his focus on his work. You weren't a child, and had a decent processor in that head of yours. You might have some sense not to play this stupid game.

"Ratchet."

Hwat?

Ratchet almost drops his tools in surprise. You, the only human he thought had some sense think he's attractive. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees that you had been just as busy as him when the questioning started. Sat on the couch with your book, looking around, stumbling over yourself to explain. He caught some of it: intelligent, skilled. Handsome for a robot.

Miko seemed to spearhead the grilling despite being the one to start the whole thing.

When you glance in Ratchet's direction, he sees your eyes widen and how quickly you look down when they meet his optics. Shame? Embarrassment? It doesn't sit right to see you teased. Just because you can appreciate an older bot.

"What's so funny?" Ratchet scoffs, "at least one of your kind has some taste." He turns away from the console and over to the platform. Bee chirps and nudges him before getting shoved away by the doctor. "Isn't it time you all leave?"

He leans close, glaring at the kids. Miko tries snarking back about the weekend but Raf mentions a movie playing. Bee volunteers to take them home, perfect excuse for him to go to the drive in.

Wheeljack heads out with them, raising an optic ridge at the medic as he passes by. It's just the two of you left. Ratchet shift, glancing back at you. You don't look at him, sitting back on the couch with your book. Body tense and heated. Trying to look casual and relaxed and clearly anything but.

He vents out and looks back at his project, then at you again. "So... got a thing for old bots huh?"

You hunch down, gripping your book tighter. "Ratchet, I-"

"You uh… sticking around?" He interrupts, "I could use some help."

You peek up over your book. Ratchet had you help a couple times, small hands being able to reach places. And again, being the only human in this base that he thinks has a lick of sense.

"Sure... Yeah..." You put the book down and smile.

Ratchet smiles back, offering his servo for you to climb on.

[baka-bakeneko]

Sharing Nicely - Logan Howlett [Wolverine] x Wade Wilson [Deadpool] x F!Reader

tags: NSFW, MINORS DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, deadpool and wolverine are "playfully" territorial, platonic massage, more throuple vibes, playful costuming, deadpool is a bratty sub, movie accurate Logan Howlett attitude, Logan Howlett is an animal, service dom Logan Howlett, mean dom Logan Howlett, submissive Wade Wilson, guided oral, sharing the bowl, definitely more knifeplay [?], edging, wolvie-style, kneeling sex, j*ck off show, praise kiiiink, Wade is a good boy, wrap it before you tap it psa, cre*mpie, c*m decorations, slight aftercare

wc: 3.8k

synopsis: You try to give Logan a massage, but Wade wants attention too.

a/n: i gave myself good brain scratches with the last fic so imma write some more until i tire myself out; call me obsessed.

You pushed your palms up under Logan's shoulder blades, admiring the bristled hair that decorated along his back. He released a heavy growl out in the direction of the headboard, wedging the pillow he was relaxed again further under his chest.

"Fuuuuck, that's good," Logan grit, turning over his shoulder to smirk. "Keep doing that."

You smiled down at your boyfriend, raising up on your knees to knead into his sides. "Tell me if I hurt you?"

Logan shook his head, dropping his face into the mattress with a deep groan. You bit into your bottom lip, pulsing your fingers against his hot skin before trailing down to squeeze his lovable handles.

He stretched his back, grinding his teeth in a low growl. "Harder, babe. Right there."

Your heart rushed at his utterance, catching your breath as you rolled your hips forward at the tops of thighs. Following his direction, you pressed into his lovable handles, kneading into the stiff muscle there and earning his version of a whimper.

"God fuck," he muttered, dropping his head to the mattress to release his soft noises.

The door creaked open to Wade peeking his nose into the doorway. His head tilted into the room, catching your attention.

"Whatcha doin'?" He asked cheekily, earning your grin at him. "You peggin'?"

You giggled at him, lifting onto your knees to press into Logan's back again. Logan lifted his head and snapped his glare back at Wade.

"Get out," he huffed.

"What about me?" Wade pouted teasingly, stepping into your room.

"Go fuck yourself," Logan retorted, turning his head back to the headboard.

"That's not as fun," Wade said, hopping onto the empty side of the bed and stretching out. "Come on, baby, come rub on me a little."

You laughed again, playfully rolling your eyes as Wade's hand grazed up your knee. "I'll make it worth your while if you make my banana cry."

Logan grunted, turning his head at Wade. He wormed his arm out from under his pillow and not-so-playfully jabbed Wade in the side.

Wade grimaced through his grin at you, baring his teeth in a smile seconds before Logan's claws found their way into his side. You looked plainly between your two men and shook your head.

"Are you two fighting over me?" You asked teasingly.

"No," Wade coyly said, sparing a glance over to Logan.

"Yes," Logan grit, retracting his claws and shaking the blood over Wade's side. His hand reached back to caress your knee, up to your thigh before his pinkie finger tempted under your shorts. "Stay on me, bub."

Wade mocked Logan. "Bub, come rub on me. Or I'll rub on you. Eat you out, turn you over. Whatever you want."

Logan's nostrils flared over at Wade, his hand leaving you to clamp over his throat and squeeze. You tapped at Logan's bicep for him to release Wade.

"Babe, relax," you said, taking Logan's hand back to your thigh. You looked over to Wade. "Not right now, Wade."

Wade deflated, pulling his arms behind his head to watch you. "That's fine, I like watching you two."

Logan snarled, which was cut short with the heels of your palms baring into his back, grazing down with a heavy pressure. He groaned, his pitch heightening the further you got down.

You punctuated with a deep press into the small of Logan's back, earning another soft whimper.

"Wow, can I try?" Wade asked, reaching over to touch Logan's back.

Logan's top lip peeled back, growling in a fashion that you felt in your core. You rolled your hips against the backs of his legs again, leaning forward to playfully nibble at Logan's earlobe.

"Relax. Wade's just playing. Aren't you, Wade?" You asked, raising your brows at Wade.

He recoiled his hand, bored at the turn of events. You smirked at him, returning your attention to Logan. "Better?"

Logan rolled his head against the mattress, lifting his head at your unsharp teeth nipping at his earlobe. "Be better if you were naked."

"That's what I'm saying!" Wade added, pouting his bottom lip out at you.

You shook your head at the two men on the bed; you reached out and playfully mushed Wade's face away. The one time they came together on an idea, let it be your men.

"Grab the body oil," you said casually to Wade, instructing him on a quick hunt.

You watched as Wade scrambled off the bed, his lack of brows raised in excitement. "Okay! Let me grab your nylon thong and crop top too!"

You scoffed amusedly at Wade as Logan raised his head to look back at you. "Are you really gonna wear that?"

"No," you drew out, looking down at your attire. The spaghetti strap crop tank and free flow shorts doing the same job.

"Would you wear it for me?" Logan raised a brow curiously. You smirked down at your boyfriend, pressing into the middle of his back and earning his groan.

"If you wear a leather jacket."

Logan's face metered out, his brows evening before smirking. "If Wade comes back with it, I'll wear the jacket when we go out."

He turned onto his side, making you raise up on your knees for him to roll on his back. You pursed your lips in thought as Logan played at the hem of your shorts, just as Wade rushed back in with his arms full.

He panted, dropping his finds onto the bed like a proud puppy. You and Logan looked over at Wade's finds: a bright red nylon thong, his old x-force training crop shirt, and a bottle of body oil.

Glancing from Wade to Logan, both of them were eagerly silent as you weighed your options. You climbed off of the bed, grabbing the items Wade scrounged together and starting towards the bathroom.

You stopped at the doorway, looking back at your boys. "I want you both ready when I get back."

Wade and Logan looked at each other, both nodding before you shut the door. It was a quick change, peeling off your shorts to replace with the thong. The slinky fabric slipped over your cheeks, lining directly up your butt and resting naturally on your hips.

You did the same with your tank top, replacing it with the crop top that barely kept your breasts hidden with your arms at your sides. Turning in the mirror, you admired your body in Wade's odd choices.

The curve of your butt was accentuated by the bright red, your breasts peeking out from the bottom of the yellow-blue crop top. You cracked open the door to the bedroom, prompting the boys to get ready.

You snatched the bottle from the bathroom counter and leaned in the doorway. You teasingly exaggerated your exit, tossing your hair behind your shoulder before holding up the bottle.

"Who's ready for a rub down?" You asked, surprised that both Logan and Wade were sat on the bed, stripped down to their boxers.

"Holy-" Wade began, gaping at you.

"Shit," Logan finished, sitting up from lounging on his side. He immediately shoved Wade away and bucked up on all fours.

You giggled at him, then Wade who grabbed the back of Logan's neck to shove his face to the mattress. "Bad dog. Come here, sweetheart."

Logan growled and tossed his arm out at Wade, slapping him in the stomach to release him. You stood patiently, waiting their petty fight out before tossing the bottle onto the bed between them.

You held your hands on your hips, glaring at the two of them and taking the lead for the men. "Hey! Eyes on me."

They both paused, taken aback by your stern tone before sitting and staring at you; your nipples peaked out from the bottom of your shirt, taking more attention as Wade hummed.

You took a knee onto the bed, then the other, using Logan's shoulder to steady yourself. Grabbing the bottle, you flipped the top and squeezed a small dollop of the oil onto your palm.

You took the cool oil to your neck, rubbing it along your shoulder with a deep hum before doing it again, this time reaching to massage oil into Wade's burnt neck.

Logan slipped the bottle from your hands, opening it to gather a handful and moving behind you. His hands, calloused and large, started at the waistband of your thong, his nails grazing your skin to show his restraint.

Wade turned into your migrating hands, looking over your shoulder to your menacing junkyard dog boyfriend. "He's right behind you, you know."

You grinned, palming over Wade's shoulders before reaching up his neck to share moisture to your other hand. "I know."

Logan sneered over your shoulder at Wade, rounding his hands to your stomach then gliding up to tease at your breasts. You cooed by his touch, focusing your eyes on Wade before leaning in to kiss him.

Wade's hands nervously hovered over your hips, wanting to partake in touching though Logan's eyes bored into his forehead. You grinned, glancing over to Logan as he ducked his face into your neck. He kissed you there, dragging his lips and tongue down as his hands kneaded heavily at your breasts.

Wade narrowed his eyes at Logan, placing his hands on your thighs and kneading at them carefully. You giggled between them, feeling Wade migrate his fingers to tease around your thong.

"Wade," Logan warned, parting from your neck to snarl. "You know the rules."

Wade pouted, leaning in to whisper at you. "What happens if I don't follow the rules?"

You smirked, leaning into Wade's mouth. "I'd follow them, Wade."

He scoffed, readily flossing your thong in the front, stringing it around your clit and earning a keen from you. Logan's hands instinctively shut it down, his fingers diving into your panties before Wade's could.

Logan scrubbed at your clit, leaning you back into him while he turned his nose at Wade. You moaned, stretching yourself against Logan as his fingers curled into your pussy.

"That's not fair," Wade grit, releasing his fingers from your panties.

"You didn't ask," Logan sneered, pulling your panties aside for Wade to witness his thick fingers pushing into you.

"Boys," you breathed, trying to keep level as your hands slipped off of Wade.

Logan turned into your ear, shushing you as he glared at Wade. "Wade, are you going to be a good boy?"

Wade grumbled, his mouth worming and readying to say something. You tilted your head back on Logan's shoulder, losing your control over the situation. Logan was once again in charge.

"Yes," he said shortly, dropping his chin and looking under his brow at Logan, barely stashing his pout.

Logan's signature grin returned, dropping his head to lick a stripe up your neck, staking his claim once again. "Why don't you get on the floor for me?"

Wade straightened up, slipping his legs off of the edge of the bed and kneeling onto the floor. Logan squinted, giving his soft praise while still working you over.

He pulled you over to the edge of the bed, propping you up before peeling from your back. He slipped his fingers out of you, painting your juices on your inside thigh.

With a sigh, you propped yourself up on your palms, rolling your head back between your shoulders. Logan slipped off of the bed, sitting next to Wade with his cock fully at attention.

"I gotcha, bub," Logan said, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your thong and peeling them down. He kissed between your knees, down your calves, following your panties dropping to the floor.

He took your knee, spreading your leg open before tenderly caressing the back of Wade's head. Logan leaned into his ear, whispering something incoherent before pulling back and guiding Wade's mouth into your pussy.

You gasped instantly, your chest heaving as Wade's tongue slipped into you. Staring down at Wade, you glanced to Logan, who's eyes were blown to obsidian.

His snarl never left, his hold on the back of Wade's neck metered on gentle before snatching him out of you. Logan took the helm, nosing your clit and lining down your lips before suckling in your erect nub and pressing two fingers inside.

Your stomach curled, your knees threatening to magnetize together but Wade held one leg still as Logan held the other. You cried out to the ceiling, rocking your hips onto Logan's fingers, ready to explode.

Logan reeled back with sharp huff, blowing a hot breath over you, pulling his fingers out. The boys stared in sick awe as your pussy gulped, hungry for replacement.

He offered up Wade again, letting him lick up your leaking juices before pulling him off again. "Do you think she's had enough?"

Wade nodded, licking his lips as his eyes were hazy. Logan leaned in, licking at corner of Wade's mouth before kissing him. It was feverish, fueled by his sneers and sharp teeth. Logan bit into his bottom lip, earning a moan from Wade that Logan ate.

You caught your breath between them, relaxing your body from the edge of orgasm while Logan attempted to share his affection on Wade. It lasted longer than you expected without incident, only punctuated with Logan's claws extending just behind Wade's head.

He pulled Wade off of him, tilting his head. Letting him go, he clicked his tongue for Wade to climb onto the bed. Logan turned to you, running his hand up your body before pushing you back onto the bed. "Roll over, sweetheart. Assume the position."

You trilled, turning onto your stomach and raising up on your knees to present for Logan. Logan grinned evilly over your back to Wade, peeling his boxers down to reveal his hardened length.

You tilted your head on the bed to see Wade, sat at the head of the bed, stroking his hard cock. Glancing back at Logan, he offered you a sharp spank to the apple of your ass.

He ran his hands over your body, stripping you out of your shirt before tearing it off your arms, tossing it at Wade. "This is what good boys get, Wade," Logan grunted, sliding his steel cock into you and earning a heightened moan.

Wade paused, pouting down at you as your hands reached out to stabilize yourself. Your eyes lulled with each heavy thrust Logan gave, a cacophony of skin slapping skin and muted moans from you the only thing left in the room.

"Did I tell you to stop?" Logan asked, raising his brow at Wade.

Wade simpered, raising up on his knees to stroke his cock just before your face. "Just a little kiss?"

Logan uttered an animal sound, nothing more than instinct within his reddening chest. His claws slashed out, using them to climb onto the bed and actually mount you as his inner beast instructed.

His claws dug into the mattress, shielding your body with his. "Fuck your hand, Wade. Or fuck off."

"L-Logan," you panted, reaching a hang out to brace his stubbled cheek. You tried to offer him lenience, even in the position you were in.

He shied away from your touch, if only for a moment; his cock twitched with a new ferocity, your walls suctioned around him tighter than before.

Glancing up at Wade, Logan's nostrils flared before relenting. He pulled back his claws on his right hand, resting it on your hip with a drawback of his cock.

You whimpered as Logan nuzzled into your palm, soaking up the soft feeling of your fingers on his beard. He reached for the back of your neck, leaning in to kiss your cheek before directing you to Wade.

"You be grateful for her," Logan grit at Wade, who whimpered as your mouth circled around his tip.

Wade fell back on his haunches, his fingers curling through your hair as he stared at Logan. "T-thank you."

He massaged at your temples, his fingers working through your hair while he slowly canted his hips, pushing his cock in and out of your open mouth. At the same time, Logan resumed his pace, leaving you suspended between the two men.

Your hand reached out, twitching in response to Logan's heavy thrusts; with your mouth occupied, your moans fed into Wade's thrusts, earning a few pleased hisses from him.

"Y-you wanna Eiffel Tower this? Really seal the triangle?" Wade asked, removing one hand from your hair to offer out to Logan.

Logan growled, once again showing his dislike for Wade's mouth when not put to good use. He reached out, pulling Wade a bit closer before tenderly tapping his cheek.

"Just for that, I'm gonna make sure you finish last," Logan posed, almost an empty threat.

His eyes were dark and flooded with adrenaline, his brow low as he stared into Logan. "I got all night to make you miserable."

You hummed, feeling Logan pause inside you as Wade receded. Hand reaching out again, you tapped at Logan's thigh for him to be easy.

Logan pulled you off of Wade's cock, righting you on your knees to be sandwiched between both men. Logan curled an arm around your stomach, his fingers spread precariously around your clit.

"You said you like watching us," Logan grunted, resuming his pace but now thrusting, gaining momentum like a steam train.

You bowed against Logan's body, hands held out to brace yourself against Wade's chest. Wade's nostrils flared, something he'd picked up from Logan, and watched you two fuck before him as his cock twitched at being fully ignored.

He tried to kiss you, but Logan clamped a hand over your mouth cutting off your loud noises reverberating through the room. Logan glanced down at Wade's cock, dripping and damp from your mouth.

"Why don't you show us how you like your cock stroked? How you jerk off to us fucking in front of you?" Logan metered out, restraining himself.

He slowly retracted his hands from their places to rest on your hips, allowing you to drape against him. Wade groaned, taking grip of his cock once more and stroking his length gently.

He winced, reaching his swollen tip before reversing back down to his base with a slow pull. You glanced at Wade through hazy eyes, noticing him masturbating to the two of you.

Logan nodded coolly, tilting to whisper in your ear. "Do you see how well behaved he is, even when he doesn't get a reward? He can listen so well sometimes."

You smiled softly at him, noting the grit at the end of his words. At the same time, Logan thrust into you harder, ringing a part of you that caused a loss of breath.

Your eyes fluttered between rolling and watching, feeling balanced in a delicate nature. Logan drew his tongue along your neck, nibbling at your ear before reaching to touch your clit.

"Are you gonna cum to me or Wade? He's putting on a show," Logan prompted, silently willing you to look at Wade.

He was on the verge of hiccups, fist in his mouth as he bit his knuckles to hold on'; Wade's cock was drooling with precum, begging to be released.

"Say Wade's name like you so sweetly do. Cum on my cock and tell Wade he's a good boy."

Your fingers on Logan's thigh curled to clench into his skin, your pussy throbbing on the edge of release. Logan reached down to teasingly wisp his fingers back and forth on your clit, causing your undoing.

You got caught, sweating from the heat Logan's chest gave off while staring at Wade struggling to not cum.

"Wade," you gasped, your free hand reaching out for Wade's stomach. Your fingers dragged along the divots of his abs, tracing on the burn scars decorating his skin. "Good boy, you're such a good boy."

Logan chuckled, pausing his thrusts to revel in the vice grip of your pussy. It begged at his cock, urging him to cum deep inside you as the ultimate territorial claim. But he refrained, catching his breath before finally succumbing to your molten walls.

He buried his face in your neck, curling his arms around your chest and waist, ready to tuck you away in the deepest pocket of his bed and keep you for himself.

But he opened his eyes, looking over to Wade. He was still trying to maintain, opting use his fingers to tease at his shaft though his face was reddening from restraint.

"Logan," you started, finally regaining a bit of your consciousness. "Let him go."

Logan exhaled, then reached a hand out to slap Wade's away. He took grip of Wade's cock, stroking in a tender pull that had Wade bowing his head back, ready to lose.

"No hard feelings, bub. Why don't you aim for her pretty pussy? Cum right on her clit," Logan said, gearing up his strokes and causing Wade to whimper.

"It's okay, you're a real good boy, showing how you take directions...when you want," Logan continued, his tone hoarse. "But I want you to paint her cunt so you can clean up both our messes later."

He grinned mischievously, earning Wade's furrowed brows and gaped mouth. Logan edged you off of his shoulder with a tender nudge.

"Help him out, baby. Or else he'll be a pain all night."

You scoffed, reaching for Wade's hands and sliding them down your chest, prompting him to knead at your breasts. Wade groaned at the feeling of your pebbled nipples in his palms, how you spread your legs further as he massaged.

The combination of the two of you became too much; Wade groaned out, cumming into Logan's hand and your pussy. The warmth of his essence slid down your skin, splitting around your clit and between your lips, undoubtedly mixing with Logan's overflowing load.

Logan retracted his hand as Wade sat on his haunches in defeat; pulling out of you, he watched as you fell to your side to catch your breath.

He lovingly pat Wade's hip then clambered off of the bed to get a towel. When he returned, you found the energy to sit up.

Wade was lounged between the two sets of pillows, eyes lulling with the false security of sleep. You shook your head as Logan climbed onto the bed and reached between your legs to clean you up.

"You two do not know how to share nicely." You aimed the last word at Logan, who was doing his best to not smile at you.

"I said I'd share," Logan retorted lightly, tossing the damp cloth to Wade's at-attention cock. "I never said evenly."

"If at fucking all," Wade chimed in, wiping his cock off with the cloth before tossing it off of the bed.

Logan bit back a snarl, only to be met by Wade sitting up and wrapping his arms around Logan's neck. He playfully nuzzled his face into Logan's ear, earning a set of claws extended into his ribs.

"It's okay, Wolvie. We got all night to learn about sharing."

[12daysofchristmas]

Join us in the 2024 12 Days of Christmas Challenge as we hope to spread a little ✨holiday joy and cheer✨ through the magic of writing fanfiction & creating art!

About & Rules

The challenge will run from December 13-24, 2024.

The challenge is open to any and all fandoms.

Submissions must include at least one of the prompts for that day but can combine two, three, or all four.

Prompts for the day always include: a word/words, a scenario, a quote, a "famous" quote (taken from songs and movies)

Tag your submissions with #12daysofchristmas2024 and/or mention this blog so that we will be notified to reblog your submissions here. (Also, it would be super cool if you gave this blog a follow!)

Submissions for the day must be posted before midnight YOUR time. We're not super hard-and-fast about this rule, but posting within time is very much appreciated! 

If you’re posting your submission directly on Tumblr (as opposed to linking to an external site such as AO3), you MUST use a “keep reading” cut!

Edit: We're now also allowing ALL KINDS OF ART: drawings, edits, aesthetics, mood boards, videos, podfics, fiber arts... go wild!

!! Absolutely NO AI creations !!

Please format ALL submissions with the following heading:

Title Day/Prompt(s) Fandom/Character(s)/Ship Warnings (if applicable): Word Count/Medium (in case it's art):  Example: Santa, Baby Day 8 - “Prompt(s) for that day” AEW - Adam Page x OC Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, sexual situations (explicit) Word Count: 7,290 or: Medium: fan video

You can also include a summary, gif, edit, whatever you want! Just don’t forget the “keep reading” if you’re posting directly on Tumblr!

If you're posting on AO3, here's our collection: 12 Days of Christmas Collection

2024 Prompts

Day 1 ❄️ First snow ❄️ Getting soaked ❄️ “Your hands are so cold.” ❄️ “I suppose it all started with the snow.” —Frosty the Snowman

Day 2 ❄️ Little lie ❄️ Trapped together in a snowstorm ❄️ “I thought you knew where you were going?!” ❄️ “I don’t know what to say, but it’s Christmas, and we’re all in misery.” —National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Day 3 ❄️ Accelerated heartbeat ❄️ Kissing in the snow ❄️ “Here, take my coat.” ❄️ “Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right.” —Queen

Day 4 ❄️ Mulled wine ❄️ Playing board games ❄️ “I have no regrets.” ❄️ “Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.” —How the Grinch Stole Christmas, 2000

Day 5 ❄️ Cookies ❄️ Holiday-themed contest ❄️ “That definitely looks… interesting?” ❄️ “That is exactly why you want a high-quality fire extinguisher right in the kitchen.” —The Santa Clause

Day 6 ❄️ Present ❄️ Making a new Christmas tradition ❄️ “Not another Christmas movie!” ❄️ “You say you hate Washington’s birthday or Thanksgiving, and nobody cares, but you say you hate Christmas, and people treat you like you’re a leper.” —Gremlins

Day 7 ❄️ Decorations ❄️ A little accident ❄️ “I was just trying to help!” ❄️ “I want my house to be seen from space.” —Deck The Halls

Day 8 ❄️ Touch starved ❄️ Telling secrets around the fire ❄️ “Sometimes the hardest part is forgiving yourself.” ❄️ “Santa, can't you hear me?” —Ariana Grande & Kelly Clarkson

Day 9 ❄️ Christmas fair/market ❄️ Late shopping (together) ❄️ “Hmm, this is actually not bad.” ❄️ “When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn't really feel like Christmas at all.” —Coldplay

Day 10 ❄️ Surprise visit ❄️ Lighting scented candles ❄️ “I didn’t know you were here.” ❄️ “You’re skipping Christmas! Isn’t that against the law?” —Christmas with the Kranks

Day 11 ❄️ Fairy lights ❄️ Christmas party/ball ❄️ “I never want this night to end.” ❄️ “I won’t even wish for snow. And I’m just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe.” —Mariah Carey

Day 12 ❄️ Feast ❄️ Indoor picnic by the tree/fireplace ❄️ “I baked your favourite cookie/pie/cake.” ❄️ “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” —Sia

Extra Challenge

Angst or fluff, romance or platonic - you're unsure in what direction your fic should go? Spin our

Wheel

and let it decide for you! You can spin it once and write all fics with what comes up, you can spin it daily and change course accordingly, you can spin it as often as you need or not at all - it's all up to you.

Please don’t hesitate to contact us with any questions! Also, feel free to share this post and help spread the joy and cheer!

Happy writing, and good luck 🍀

[anxiousnerdwritings]

I am going FERAL over this imagine:

So basically Bruce brings reader home to be his new daughter/the boys' new sibling but Uh Oh! They now want you carnally and reader is just like "you said you wanted me as a daughter/sibling, wtf is this" and being their platonic darling is better than being shared between them romantically so reader tries to come off as innocent and child/sibling coded by being like "yeah I've never actually kissed or dated anyone before aren't I just so innocent" and the boys are like :)))

So then Dick says you can call him your boyfriend "just to feel it out" and Tim starts blatantly stealing your panties and Jason says he can give you your 1st kiss so you can "practice" with him and Bruce offers to teach you how to touch yourself and (and him) and when you try to walk it back cause the boys are being Freaks they're in their delulu era so eventually you end up tied to the bed with the boys and Bruce drawing straws over who gets to take what 1sts (like 1st date, kiss, virginity, ect).

And Damien is just in the background absolutely SEETHING cause the the boys and Bruce's Horny Time keeps interrupting his Mommy Time with the reader

And reader using Damien as kind of a shield cause what are they going to do, feel you up in front of a CHILD? Like just, "Stay Platonic :))"

Just that kind of pseudo incest makes me Feel Things (*/∀＼*)(///∇///)

I'd love your thoughts/a fic based on this! Ty ❤️

TW: Brief mentions of pseudo incest(y) scenarios/behavior, manipulative tactics, yandere tendencies

(Okay so I’ll answer this with my thoughts for right now.)

I know I primarily write incest(y) related topics for my Game of Thrones/ASOIAF stuff but I have been tempted to/curious about branching it out into some of the other fandoms I write for 👀. (I’ve had a few ideas rolling around in my noggin for a bit if anyone is interested.) So I would be willing to give this a try. I’m down to experiment with some new stuff, within reason of course.

I imagine the Reader being older (probably 19-23), maybe even having been a runaway of sorts or not having a very stable home life, so when they’re given the ‘offer’ to become part of the family they’re looking to fulfill a familial void they’ve never experienced or have forgotten how it’s felt like. I definitely see Bruce and the rest of the boys keeping a very close eye on the Reader before they decide to finally bring them into their family, basically full on stalking them from the moment they caught their attention (you know how the Batfam works). It wouldn’t be a surprise if even before the Reader was with them physically that the boys developed a more carnal desire for them. At first, their intentions were completely platonic, but with all the lengthy observing and information gathering of their supposed-to-be-new-family-member eventually something changed in how they all saw their darling.

I really see the change in their obsession starting with either Dick or Tim first. Especially regarding some accidental or purposeful peeping Tom foolery. I feel like Bruce would be the last to fall victim to the change in direction or at the very least he’s the last one to admit to it. If Damian is younger than I see his obsession staying strictly platonic, but if he were much older than I could see him involving himself to the same depths as his family.

At first, I see things happening subtly. Knowing that at the very least a few of them are already in an obsessive-romantic headspace in regards to their darling before they even physically become part of the family the guys would try to be as welcoming as possible without revealing their true intentions. They don’t want to scare you off right away, they want you to walk into it semi-willingly at least. But the interactions with the Reader would show something else. The lingering touches, the being much closer to you than really necessary, the heated grazes over your clothes here and there that leave you wondering if that actually happened or not. I also kind of like the other members not being fully aware of each other’s change in obsession, everyone giving each other the side eye until it sets in and then all out war of who gets the darling to themself unfolds only to eventually end up with them working together and agreeing to share. That’s when Bruce’s heel-turn is revealed.

Once things get truly amped up, the interactions with the Reader really begin to escalate. The boys would walk around shirtless more often, all of them trying to get their darling to look at them, to really look at them. Eventually, it’s not just them being shitless but either them in nothing but their underwear or nothing at all. They start out as accidents but eventually it’s pretty loud and clear that the guys want you to see them, all of them, to even touch them and feel them to your hearts content. But thats not all, of course it’s not. The touching of their darling only gets all the more intense, to the point that you know damn well that they’re touching you and they want to leave you wanting for more. So much more. The Reader’s innocence and lack of experience would only spur them on even more. They absolutely thrive off of it. They all want to be your first, your first everything. There will be a lot of secret ‘lessons’ being given behind closed doors and telling of “Don’t tell Batdaddy or he’ll get real mad.” “Don’t let Jay know, or he’ll want to punish you for not doing this with him.” “Let this be our secret, (Name). Something just for you and me.” “Can’t tell anyone about this or they’ll ruin it for the both of us.” And they only get even worse from there.

I can’t see Alfred being okay with this in any situation, whatsoever. I think he especially would feel like Bruce and the other boys completely took advantage of the Reader and he would try his best to aid them in trying to keep up with the platonic intention of this entire fiasco. He would be a total cockblock, even going as far as helping Damian in his cockblocking endeavors. Alfred’s intention would be to play both sides so he knows how to help the Reader when it comes to Bruce and the others but it wouldn’t take too long for them to figure out that Alfred is working against them. Like, Alfred was all for the familial-platonic obsession but when things started getting more romantic he was ready to shut that shit down ASAP. You can’t tell me he hasn’t, at least a few times, locked Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim out of the house to give the Reader some peace and give Damian his much deserved allotted time with them.

Speaking of Damian, he is a menace (as per usual) but even more so than normal. He really doesn’t take too well to the new direction of his father’s and brothers’ obsession for the Reader. He thinks it’s pretty messed up but he sincerely likes and cares about the Reader and he wants them to stay, he wants them to continue being a part of the family forever so he’ll let some things slide. Some. He even may be willing to look the other way when it eventually comes to Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim baby-trapping the Reader if it means this whole ‘family’ thing becomes set in stone with the arrival of a new ‘sibling’. But for the most part, at least early on, Damian would be a huge pain in the ass for the other family members. He feels like he needs to step in to save his darling from the others and their ulterior motives. He’s all his parental/older sibling figure needs, at least at that point. He may even try to runaway with them to keep them safe from the others. Hell, he may even get his mother involved if he was desperate enough, especially if he saw the Reader as a parental figure. Or maybe even another Justice League member to either adopt him and the Reader so that he could have that family experience he was promised with the Reader. Or he would be completely content just living the rest of his life just him and the Reader, platonically of course.

It would either take Bruce or Dick to have a talk with Damian to get him to come to some agreement to allow them to continue with what they’re doing in regards to the Reader. I think Dick would get away with manipulating Damian much better than Bruce could. I think Damian would have some opinions about his father especially throughout this whole situation. Especially since I see Damian being very observant of how Dick, Jason and Tim are behaving towards the Reader early on and picking up on the fuckery taking place, even going as far as telling Bruce about it under the belief his father would be on his side (not ever fathoming the idea of his father also doing similar things to the Reader without him ever knowing). As far as Damian knew his father was completely platonic towards the Reader, as a ‘father’ should be. Right? So understandably Damian feels not only betrayed but also disgusted when he finds out that his father was and still is taking part in, acting in a similarly depraved fashion as the others.

Eventually, I could see them coming together and being one big ‘happy’ family. But it sure as hell comes at a price. (Usually the Reader’s freedom and sense of self outside of the obsession they’ve been dragged into, to drown in alongside their yandere(s).)

[jjenthusee]

Moonlight And Intentional Mistakes

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: This is inspired and dedicated to @heavysighing-dreamyeyes amazing post linked here (show it some love) and their numerous sweet words especially on my Broken Mug writing drabble (also linked), so after crying reading their messages, i had to do something about the intense rush to write and the best way i can think of thanking you is by doing what i know, art and writing. i had no idea that i was influencing anyone, i only hoped my love for Jason was communicated correctly. i hope every single one of you that comes across my account has beautiful things happen to u. i’ll give u all a million kisses. please continue to write, i would love to continue reading what u have for us next <3 there’s also a surprise at the end :D (as always comments are appreciated if you’re comfortable <3 let me know your brain rot thoughts) ENJOY

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, soft Jason, touch starved Jason lowkey, siri play Never Grow Up by Niall Horan 😔, might have inspired the direction of the fic

Word Count: 3.4k

The moon was high.

Moonlight had casted a faint glow on the window blinds, it peaked in through the tiny gaps.

Only a small lamp was on, cascading light from the living room into your room. It gave enough light to see the outlines of your room. Bathing everything it could touch in a faint warm glow.

It was still dark enough that the details were too fuzzy to point out, but most objects were wrapped in shadows, bringing a unique calm to your room.

In the chill of night, the bed was warm. Jason was the perfect heater. The blankets were cozy and the sound of a fan whirred at the corner of the room.

It didn’t make sense covering yourself head to toe in a fuzzy blanket with a fan blasting air at you, but the sound mellowed you into the night, calling slumber closer to you.

It would have been easy to sleep if you were given the chance, but your gentle giant boyfriend was adamant to prove to you that he needed to sleep as physically close as possible to you.

It would have been fine, but today you couldn’t find a relaxing sleeping position. You had to shift your body around before finding the state of mind and the right amount of comfort to drift off, but tonight was difficult. Not only were you constantly shifting in the bed sheets, you were keeping Jason awake.

As your body moved to a new spot on the bed, Jason followed. Turning his body to follow the heat you left behind on the sheets. He wasn’t fond of the fact that a blanket fully engulfed you while he didn’t, it wasn’t fair.

When he got close enough to throw his muscular arm over you, you beat him to your next journey across the mattress.

If the queen bed the both of you were laying on looked like a college dorm twin XL with Jason laid out over it, then you shouldn’t have cornered yourself onto the edge.

Now half of your body dangled off the mattress. The bed was definitely big enough for the both of you the last time you checked, but with Jason getting closer to you every time you moved, it looked like he teleported a smidge closer when you blinked.

It also wasn’t ideal when he rolled onto the corner of the blanket that had unraveled from your legs.

You teetered on the end of the bed when he purposefully made sure to take up ninety percent of what was left of the mattress. Locking you on the edge, wrapped in a blanket.

You had been laying on your side, but Jason kept nudging you, tickling your face with his messy hair when he got close enough to attempt to burrow his large self into you. You kept scooting back, but once you didn’t feel anymore mattress, your legs were feeling where the cold air invaded the bed.

Now you settled on the dangerous edge with one leg completely off. Despite your avoidance of Jason, your free leg locked around Jason’s leg for any support to keep you safely on the bed. Your entire upper half was swaddled like a baby as the blanket blocked out any of the chill, your arms completely smushed against your sides with no way to free yourself besides Jason moving his body off of the edges of your blanket.

You had no control whatsoever.

It was you and your straining leg on Jason that was the only thing keeping you from plopping on the cold floor. Now in a vulnerable position, did Jason have the bright idea of asking the question you’ve been avoiding all day.

Where were his pudding cups?

———

“I take it back!” You pleaded with Jason as he kept the blanket tightly wound around you, preventing you from moving your arms to retaliate.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Jason playfully faced at you, laying on his side. His voice melted with innocence, but had underlying amusement.

Your blanket was your savior and your enemy as it saved you from the hard floor, but it was also securely caught by Jason’s entire weight. He had you completely trapped inside with only your head and legs poking out, the fabric slung around you.

Moving his body an inch closer to the edge, Jason pushed your body further off, further with no support beside his mere weight and strength keeping you from falling.

“I swear there were two pudding cups before you left!” You screamed, your hair falling off your face, the ends gravitating toward the ground, your impending doom.

“Sweetheart, let’s play world’s greatest detective and I’ll ask you something. If I didn’t eat ‘em and we are the only two people who live in this apartment, then who do we have left? Hm?” Jason’s voice, honey sweet, as he emphasized the contradictions in your statement.

With the blanket bunched in his hands, Jason easily lowered you slightly, juggling your weight effortlessly while laying on his side. You cursed at his perfect athleticism.

The room may have been dark, but you didn’t need the moonlight to know he had a shit eating grin trying to get you to confess.

You felt like this was probably the closest you would feel to people walking the plank in those pirate movies you watched as a kid, a sick waiting game not knowing when your fate was inevitable. It was fun at the time and maybe the cold ocean was different from your bedroom floor, but otherwise it was still cold.

“I don’t even like sweets!” You playfully laughed as he teasingly let his hands slip, clearly seeing through your lie. You squealed as you felt your head dip and your leg fall from on top of Jason’s.

“And my hand slipped.” Jason equally lied through his teeth, his threat filled with no malice whatsoever as he securely held onto you.

“I’m starting to feel like this has nothing to do with pudding cups.” You raised your head back up to look at Jason, a full smile present on your face, testing your vulnerable state.

“Oh?” Jason raised his eyebrow as he looked down at you from the edge of the bed. The angle looked great on him.

“My world’s greatest detective intuition is telling me that you’re just mad that I kept rolling away from you.” You mischievously pointed out.

“My love, you need to use those skills to find out why all our pudding is gone.”

“Do you do this to all the criminals you interrogate?” You deflected, using your eyes to point to the current position both of you were in, dangling from the bed in a blanket while Jason kept you there.

“Only the pretty ones.” Jason sung, pulling you up slightly so you weren’t as close to the floor, not quite on the bed, but in a better spot than before.

“I didn’t realize the Red Hood had such malicious threatening techniques.” You shook your head feigning disappointment as you struggled to readjust your leg to latch onto his again. It probably looked awkward, but you were desperate. It wasn’t your fault that your boyfriend was built like a tank. “I promise to not rob anymore banks anytime soon. I’ll straighten myself out. Scouts honor.” You breathed out, exhausted from the movement.

“Just admit you ate the pudding and I’ll erase everything. Your speeding tickets and the bounty on you in 15 countries.”

“It’s 18 actually, don’t defile me—“

Jason effortlessly lowered you again. The blanket slipping slightly from jostling you around.

“Okay, okay!” You cried out. “If I fall you’re limited to two kisses a day!”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Three, take it or leave it.”

“Tell me where the pudding is.”

“Four kisses and you can cuddle suffocate me when we sleep.” The blanket around you felt noticeably loose.

Jason scoffed, offended by your choice of phrasing.

“If our lives are ever on the line, I gotta remember I can’t ever let you negotiate.” He tauntingly called above you. “And I don’t cuddle suffocate you.”

“So it was ‘cause I moved away from you earlier!” You cried out as you slipped further. The blanket loosening completely around you, your gasp blurring into Jason’s name. A plea to catch you.

Jason quickly bent down, rolling his body off the bed and slipping his arms around you as he followed you to the floor. He rolled his body forward enough to quickly shift your position so his body plopped on the ground first while you landed on top of him.

It was a soft landing as you laid on his chest. Quickly finding a comfortable position in his arms.

“You only get one kiss a day.” You flatly said. “Why is our bed frame weirdly tall?” You nuzzled your head into his chest.

“Our deal was two.” Jason tenderly caressed your head. Moving your hair in motions that made you want to fall asleep.

“Looks like we’re both liars.” You barely whispered, sleepiness taunting your body.

“I guess you’re still wanted in 18 countries.”

You lazily laughed into Jason, his body slightly shaking from your movement. His arms wrapping around you, engulfing the feel of your laughter and locking it between your bodies. He smiled into your shoulder. Smelling your comfort.

You lifted your head, freeing your face. You were still being held by Jason, but you had a clearer view of his loving gaze lost on you as he traced your features, entranced by your smile.

“Missed opportunity.” You drunkenly watched and felt Jason’s fingers caressing your face.

“If you let me ‘cuddle suffocate’ you, you might have another shot.” Jason’s thumb rubbed your cheek, pressing into the softness. His calloused finger pads feeling slightly itchy, but you would never pull away, too endeared by how gently he treats you.

“Worth it.” You say after snapping out of your trance that was locked on your boyfriend. He knew the right areas to get your mind lost on his touch, focused solely on him.

You pulled yourself up from laying on top of Jason, grabbing for his hands as you stood. Straining to help pull him up, but almost all the effort came from his own strength, not yours.

Playfully, Jason never let go of your hands and let his body be dragged completely onto you, dramatically coming forward to rewrap himself around you.

You giggled as you threw your arms around him. Enjoying the warmth that radiated from him, reheating the once empty space. Your own personal heater. You were glad tonight was one of the nights he stayed home with you, cuddled in bed all evening. You tried your best to soothe his mind, away from the thoughts of patrol as much as you could.

Giving his mind a small mental break, to hold you close and whatever else he needed. Both of you continue to work hard to develop and maintain the kind of trust that Jason needed to work through the hard days, silent but never alone.

With reassuring hugs while he counted your breaths, holding onto your hand just to thoughtlessly memorize them, standing in your presence just to observe you.

His difficulty with readjusting to the mundane and useless tasks of every day life was the biggest challenge. Too many conversations about why we need to treat ourselves because we want to. Jason’s mind was filled with too many needs.

He needed a reason to buy himself something, he needed to push his body to the limits because there was no other option, he needed to work alone.

So you showed him that he didn’t need you to hold his arm while you walked around the city, but he wanted you to do it.

He didn’t need you to take care of him, but you wanted to because you cared.

As you lost yourself in the shared closeness, you swayed your body. Jason unconsciously following your movements, swaying with you and letting his hands intertwine behind you, letting it gently rest against your lower back. Once you held on, Jason had silently vowed to never be the first to let go.

As you moved your bodies, clueless about Jason’s promise to himself, you didn’t let go either. So the two of you clung to one another.

It was one of the millions of things you cherished about Jason, he showed his devotion through his mannerisms. He helped put away your bags after a tired day of work, when he brought you a blanket if you fell asleep on the couch then carried you to bed. He bought your favorite snacks if he was at the store. He effortlessly followed you, content to be next to you.

Of course, he still put up limitations. He wouldn’t put your safety at risk. He sat closer and became more aware of restaurant doors, he kept you walking on his side or always in front of him, when he slept he made sure to determine the layout that suited you best, away from the window. His eagerness to make sure your wellbeing is priority.

It led to him not sleeping once you switched your position too many times tonight. He wasn’t satisfied with you being closer to the window, but he also was determined to get you to cuddle.

Numerous times you wanted to tease him, but after a Red Hood reveal that had you debating if he collaborated with his brothers to pull a twisted prank on you and an emotional talk, you couldn’t blame him for any of it. The fitted suit was just an added bonus you could outrightly ogle at.

You two were standing, holding each other in the dark. His head nuzzled on the base of your neck, his hands gripping your shirt, crinkling at the desperation. Sometimes Jason felt overstimulated when his feelings were ready to burst. His unfamiliarity with so much tender affection makes his mind unable to process all of it.

All you can do is to tell him that your there. Reminding him that you were unwilling to go anywhere.

“I’m here, Jay.” You softly reassured. “I’m right here, in your arms.”

Jason was unaware of the same silent promise you prayed to yourself, to never let him go.

When Jason’s grip loosened, your lips softly kissed the side of his head, soothing the thing that gives him a hard time. Repeating the motion, feeling his breaths even.

You never said that you were limited to how many kisses you can give him.

As you methodically swayed and with one final kiss against his hot skin, Jason shifted himself to standing taller, resting his forehead on yours. His hair laid flat against your skin.

You closed your eyes, enjoying how docile he became once you initiated physical touch. A craving he wanted and you unconditionally gave him.

When you opened your eyes, adjusting to the darkness, you grabbed one of his hands to intertwine them, your other hand gently falling onto his shoulder. He noticed the familiar stance, mimicking that of a dance. He silently rested his free hand on your waist, once again feeling the fabric of his shirt that you wore.

There was no music, but you leaned into Jason once again, swaying to the rhythm of his heartbeat, slow and in tune with his breaths. The further closeness let you settle your head underneath his chin, his hand following around the width of your waist pulling you in more.

Everything felt perfect. It was the middle of the night in the dark, you wore pajamas, no music played, both of your hair messy, but you held Jason. A sweet grasp of his shirt bunched in your hand, your feet bumping into his, the smell of your soap radiating from his skin from his shower.

If this was your last day on Earth, you would think you were blessed to be in front of the most loving, tender man. Watching his eyes softened and sparkle as he feels a breath of peace.

That was all you needed.

In an act of surprise, you moved your arm to wrap around Jason’s waist and attempted to dramatically swoop him back. It was haphazardly done, but he gladly played along despite the difference in height making it a little awkward. He dipped back then came forward, reuniting your embrace, both of you laughing at your clumsy attempt at a slow dance.

“Why does this feel like an awkward school dance?” You breathed out, breathless from the laughing, talking into his clean shirt. Most likely you were taking it to wear tomorrow night.

“We’re just swaying, we aren’t really moving how we’re supposed to.” Jason rubbed your back as you caught your breath, his voice softly surrounding you as you rested on his chest, feeling every word.

“And how would you know?” You looked up at him, a teasing tone. “It’s not like either of us know how to slow dance.”

Jason paused, looking down at your eyes, contemplating.

“Would you like to learn?” He hesitated, combing his hand through your hair.

You completely stopped swaying, Jason’s hand dropping from the top of your head to rest on your cheek. He carefully watched your reaction, your eyes widening, a stunned look in your eyes.

His grip tightened, barely noticeable if you didn’t feel his thumb press on your waist, helping to remind you to respond.

“I mean, I’ve always wanted to try it.” You looked down toward your feet, slightly feeling the embarrassment creep up at your confession, but Jason rubbed his thumb on your cheek. A silent comfort. “But, I don’t have a reason to learn. I’m way past school dance age, I rarely go to events where it might happen, and…no one has ever asked me.”

A silence settled between the both of you, Jason’s thumb pausing. He looked between your eyes, glancing back and forth.

“Can I get my phone?” He asked with no explanation, no other detail leading to your earlier confession.

You felt the mortification creeping at you. You nodded, letting go of Jason.

He stood there until you removed yourself first. His grip fleeting, walking in the dark to grab his phone, illuminating the room with its screen where he stood. You curiously watched him, not quite understanding his intentions.

“I might be a little rusty.” He voiced, a broad back facing you.

A gentle melody played from his phone. Quiet, but getting louder as he pressed the volume button on the side of his phone.

“What?” You stood there awkwardly.

Jason turned to face you, throwing his phone on the night stand as he walked back over, raising an open hand to you.

“May I have this dance?”

He stunned you again, your brain having too many delays at once.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to meet his. You couldn’t respond to his question because your throat ached, ached in a way that you wished the world ended right there, to consume the pounding heartbeat in your ears, the firm grip of Jason, and attempt to swallow up all the love swelling in your heart. It would put up one hell of a fight.

Once the both of you met, bodies close, Jason repositioned your hands as it was before. Gently guiding you through the steps as you nervously looked at your feet, your tense body adding to your struggle.

Once you felt a decent rhythm and Jason patiently assisted you, memorizing your expressions, movements and the smile you beamed when you finally felt comfortable.

He grabbed your chin. Guiding your head back up to look at him. Bringing his head closer to yours.

Your eyes closed halfway before he gripped your back, dipping you back, holding your weight as you inhaled in surprise.

“Jason!” You laughed his name as he swung you back up, extravagantly twirling you from him, clasping your hand to twirl you back into his embrace.

“Rusty, huh?” You quipped, eyeing him, trying to stabilize your steps.

“What can I say, Alfred beat the movements into me. He would feel a shift in the air if I got it wrong.” Jason smiled, picking up the swaying again, enthusiastically moving both your bodies.

You continued dancing through laughter, not watching your feet as much as you were, letting the feeling of the music guide you.

Not knowing where your body and his separated, a beautiful blur.

How could you have missed out on something so sweet?

A dance shared between two individuals who adore one another.

Jason stamped another mark onto your life.

First dances laced with intertwined hands, lips brushing against one another, tuning out everything but each other’s voices.

Maybe the world did end, but you wouldn’t have known, too immersed in the moonlight on Jason’s skin, the warmth of love and home enveloping you.

[pitchsidestories]

golden girl II Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1732

a/n: as always this is just fiction, your feedback is always welcome. We saw that other people recently wrote fics with a similar topic and just wanted to clarify that we had the idea while writing one night in ibiza, so all similarities are purely coincidental.❤️

You watched from behind the camera as Alexia carried a football and set herself up to take a free kick. The ball spun through the air and landed perfectly in the top right corner of the goal.

You beamed.

This would make a nice video for the Spanish national teams social media sites.

As Alexia proudly turned towards the camera, her eyes met yours for a brief moment. She smiled, suddenly all flustered.

You held back a laugh to not ruin the video. Only once the recording stopped, you said: “Well done, babe!“

Alexias smile grew wider and you could have sworn the she even blushed.

“Ew!“, Jenni commented from somewhere behind you.

You turned to see her grimace in mock disgust.

Alexia barely glanced at her: “Shut it, Jenni.“

“No.“, the dark-haired player replied quickly and determinedly, similar to a stubborn child.

“Ignore her.“, you laughed as Alexia walked towards you and pulled you in by the waist for a kiss. Her gaze was still directed towards Jenni.

“Stop making out.“, she said and wrinkled her nose, repulsed by the showcase of affection.

Alexia only smirked at her: “I’m sorry but this point goes to me.“

“Whatever.“, Jenni rolled her eyes.

You were well acquainted with their bickering. They were both so ambitious, even when it came to you they always tried to one-up each other. This could go on forever if you didn’t put an end to it.

“Sorry, girl. But I’m not a trophy to be won.“, you said calmly and walked away without looking at them again.

Still, you could feel their eyes lingering as you walked towards the other players.

“Oh, little Miss Independent is back.“, Jenni teased, slight annoyance vibrating in her voice.

Alexia raised her eyebrows: “Also that was a lie, she clearly loves it.“

“Of course she does.“

“Just look at her.“, the Barcelona captain said, nodding in the direction where you were talking with Laia and Ona.

Another smile played on Jennis lips: “I love it when she’s acting all innocent.“

“Walking around, giving hugs to everyone. Oh, that Ona hug was extra long.“, Alexia commented your actions.

“She knows this doesn’t work, right?“

Behind all of the jokes and teasing however, was the slight sting of jealousy.

You didn’t notice the two player approaching you, you were too focused on your conversation with Ona.

“Oh my god, really, Oni?“, you laughed.

The defender went quiet: “Yes, uhm…“

“We definitely need to go on a walk with our dogs after the Olympics.“, you continued happily.

“We do.“

“Sweet.“, Alexia said cooly.

“Huh?“ You turned towards her, one eyebrow raised in expectation of a good excuse for interrupting your talk.

Jenni just smirked: “Quit flirting with Ona, you already have our attention.“

“I wasn’t flirting with her, we’re just good friends.”, you corrected her annoyed.

 “Quit rolling your eyes.”, the raven-haired woman demanded grinning.

“You know exactly what you did.”, Alexia shook her head amused.

“No.”, you answered innocently.

“See? She’s playing blameless again.”, Jenni sighed.

With a devilish grin, the blonde midfielder hugged you from behind, whispering into your ear. “You’ll confess everything tonight.” Her words send a shiver down your spine.

“Tonight?”, you repeated quietly.

“Yes.”, she affirmed.

“But we’ve our first Olympic game tomorrow!”, you protested.

“Don’t worry about it.”, the older forward assured you, while driving her hand through her dark open hair nonchalantly. The urge to touch her like she did in that moment was almost overwhelming, but you hold yourself back.

“And the beds are really small.”, you thought out loud.

“We can make a big one out of the three.”, Alexia suggested rationally.

“Easy.”, Jenni nodded enthusiastically.

“I guess we could do that.”, you admitted.

“Leave that to us, y/n.”, the oldest winked at you.

“I’ll let you do it.” A staff member called your name, reminding you that you had to do an interview for national television. To your girlfriends you explained. “Shit, I got to go, media duties.”

“Have fun.”, Alexia responded before turning her head to face the dark-haired forward.

“Great, that gives us enough time for the project bed.”, Jenni clapped excitedly into her hands. The enthusiasm reminded her of a child when it was about to open it’s present.

“Let’s go.”, the blonde told the woman who played in Mexico now.

The small cardboard beds were quickly put next to each other to form a bigger one, ready to hold the three of you.

“I think we’re ready only y/n is missing.”, Jenni announced delighted. The level of anticipation has been rising to the next level, the warmth and the near Mediterranean Sea added to it and the sun was about to set painting the sky in the prettiest colours.

“I’ll go see where she’s.”, Alexia decided, the taller woman following her immediately, in the hallway their hands were almost touching.  

Meanwhile, you were too focused on answering the questions of the journalist to realize that your girlfriends turned up behind your back.

“Oh, I can’t wait for the tournament to start, it’s so special as it’s the first time for our team to play at the Olympics.”, you raved, beaming with pride.

“Why’s she smiling like that? Y/n’s genuinely excited, huh?”, Jenni asked the blonde surprised.

“She’s.”, Alexia agreed.

“I could watch her do interviews forever.”, she declared swooning over you. Her green eyes admiring your sight, the gestures you made while talking about something you clearly loved and were passionate about.

“With whom I’d like to do a jersey swap? Definitely Marta, she’s such a big inspiration and everything she did for the women’s game is incredible. The only problem here is that Ona and Alexia want hers too, so we’ll see who gets it in the end.”, you laughed light-heartedly.

“Of course she would say that.”, Alexia scoffed.

Jenni watched on as you answered more questions: “Those young girls are such media pros.“

“I think she’s finally done.“, Alexia said, seemingly relieved that you were unable to embarrass her anymore.

You politely said goodbye to the interviewer and got up up.

“Hey! Y/n!“, Jenni called.

You heaved a sigh and gave her a death stare: “Jennifer, you don’t need to shout when we’re in the same room!“

The dark-haired player shrugged: “Wasn’t sure you saw us.“

“I’d always see you two, even in a crowded room.“, you replied, shaking your head.

“Don’t flatter us.“, Alexia said with a half-smile.

Confusion flashed across your face: “No, I mean you two, Misa and Irene are usually the tallest in every room.“

Alexias face dropped: “Seriously? I thought you were trying to be cute!“

Before you could say anything about how ridiculous that assumption was, Jenni clapped her hands: “Anyways, it’s time to take this to bed.“

You cocked your head teasingly: “Oh, is it?“

“Yes, it is.“, Alexia agreed with her teammate.

“Let’s go then.“, you shrugged.

“About time.“

“We did our waiting!“, Jenni complained and scooped you up into her arms.

You shrieked as she carried you off towards her bedroom. “Jenni, put me down!“

Alexia followed behind, closing her eyes for a second like she was fighting a headache: “Children.“

“Ale, help!“, you begged but the Barcelona captain barely gave you any attention.

“No.“

Jenni threw you down on the bed they prepared earlier: “Finally!“

“Finally?“, you echoed. The bed wobbled as she laid down beside you.

“Yes.“

“Are we sure this is stable enough to hold us three?“, you worried as Alexia climbed on your other side.

You suddenly remembered why the beds at the Olympic village were made out of cardboard. It was supposedly to prevent athletes from having sex and this might have worked for some. But apparently whoever came up with this had never met Jenni and Alexia.

“Don’t worry about it, darling.“, Jenni said while brushing a strand of hair out of your face. As she leaned over, the cardboard made the typical noise of being crushed.

You yelled in surprise: “Jenni!“

“Careful!“, Alexia laughed, trying to grab Jennis arm. Her movement made the whole bed collapse in a pile of mattresses and flat cardboard.

“Oh my god.“, you breathed out once the initial shock wore off.

“We broke the bed.“, Alexia commented unhelpfully.

“Just great, you two geniuses.“ You tried to sound mad but the ridiculousness of the situation made you grin.

Jenni instead was extremely amused by this: “I’m sure this will bring us luck.“

“Since when do broken beads do that?“, Alexia frowned at her.

“You can trust me.“, she kept smiling.

“I sure hope you’re right.”, you remarked.

“Me too.”, the Blonde stared at the forward.

“Just believe me girl.”, Jenni answered with a smug smile on her lips.

“And where are we supposed to sleep now.”, Alexia questioned while nodding to the destroyed beds.

“We still have our mattresses. Can’t be more uncomfortable than the beds.”, the older woman proposed.

“Good point.”, you said while the three of you lay down on those, you in the middle.

“I guess that’s my life as a professional athlete now.”, the midfielder hid her face behind her hands.

“You two are such pillow princesses.”, Jenni commented.

“Coming from the real pillow princess here.”, you countered, elbowing her softly.

“Lies.”, the dark-haired woman clicked her tongue.

“Truth.”, you disagreed smiling.

“Shut up.”, Jenni requested.

“Make me.”, you responded, sticking your tongue out for a second.

“Don’t worry, amor. I will.”, she hummed, pinning your arms downs, so you were unable to move, while her eyes wandered from your face to your breasts, under her gaze your cheeks turned hot.

“Go on.”, you muttered, you didn’t want to wait any longer.

With that intention Jenni got down on you to give you a feverish kiss. Taking her time to devour this one.

“Ah silence.”, Alexia sighed happily beneath you.

“Way better, right?”, Jenni looked up.

“Definitely.”, the midfielder noted, kissing both of you before her eyes were closing, sleep was calling her name.

“Is she asleep already?”, you questioned.

“Yes, good night my golden girls.”, the oldest woman chirmed.

“Golden girls?!”, you repeated.

“Quiet.” The demand coming from Alexia.

You apologized with a kiss to your cheek.

It was time to sleep, tomorrow was a big day, you were about to play your country’s first Olympic women’s football game, you three and your team were about to write history. Or should you rather say herstory.