#he is the WORST boyfriend you’ll ever have

[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 1] Marriage Proposal

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Story Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Enemies to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Attempted Murder, Murder, Smut, Eventual Fluff and Romance

Regret is an overwhelming emotion because no matter how hard you wish to go back in time to undo your mistake, there is no possible way for you to do it. You love your daughter to pieces but she wasn’t planned. You didn’t regret having her but you did regret ever getting with her father and running away from your life.

“The Zenins are a very successful family, and they’re always in the eye of the media so don’t embarrass us.” Your step-mother says as she looks into her compact mirror to make sure her makeup is okay. “They’re really doing us a favor by taking you off our hands.”

You ran away at the age of 18 with your boyfriend. You never got married, but you did end up with a baby when you were 20. Now you are 25. You had to go back to your father and your stepmother because you couldn’t afford to take care of yourself and your daughter. Your boyfriend left you, leaving you with so much responsibility you couldn’t afford to take on. Worst part is that your daughter now asks where her father went.

“Act like a proper lady.” She continues speaking, and you zone out in the backseat of the car. She had forced you to put on a corset and now you could barely breathe. It was unnecessary, but she loves seeing you in pain. You feel like the day will never come to an end, even though it has just started. “And don’t speak unless you’re required to. We don’t want you to scare him off.”

She continues to ramble, making you roll your eyes at each word. It’s infuriating, and your nails dig into your palm and you chew on the inside of your cheek as you try to remind yourself that she’s the woman your father chose. The woman that makes him happy. Although you hate him for it because she’s always his priority. Her happiness always comes before yours which is why he’s marrying you off.

But when you’re married, you’ll tell her off. That’s a plus side of the marriage, probably the only benefit. It’s suffocating in the car, and maybe she is taking all the air or maybe it’s the corset that makes you feel this way. Or maybe it’s the way that you’re just being married off as if you have no value to keep in the family. “They know about Misaki but you better not mention her.”

She finally shuts her mouth and you’re so grateful for a moment. Until you realize where you’re at, and a sigh escapes your lips. You wish to hear your stepmother speak again because you’re convinced that’s better than this.

The mansion is an European style, not one you were expecting. But she knows everything so she speaks to inform you at least. “This isn’t the Zenin’s main house. Their main estate is a couple hours away but they prefer for the engagement to happen around here.”

“Oh… When is this engagement supposed to happen?” You ask as you see a couple different cars. Expensive and foreign cars. It was a mix, and the regular old cars stick out like a sore thumb. Your father parks.

“When do you think? Today. Everyone is here, even the photographers.” She informs you. “The guy you’re engaged to is a pretty big deal in the clan so it’s kind of a big deal.”

“Consider yourself lucky because after the engagement he’ll take you back to the main Zenin state and you won’t have to lift a finger.” Your father speaks which doesn’t ease your nerves. “For the rest of your days you and Misaki won’t ever have to worry about anything.”

“Jinichi Zenin, that’s your future husband’s name.” Your stepmother finally reveals. Your father turns off the car and she’s the first person to open the door and get out. Then your father does the same. You’re the last one left and you feel your stomach turn, as if you’re about to puke. 

Your father opens your door and offers his hand to help you out of the car. You take it because without it you feel like you won’t be able to get out of the car. You inhale the fresh air which you thought would help, but you’re proven wrong because this air is different. This air makes everything different.

Your father puts his hand on your shoulder and smiles at you. You can’t smile back. You just can’t because this is all his fault. Because he wants to please his wife, you’re getting married to a man you haven’t had a conversation with before. He walks over to his wife, and they begin to walk to the main entrance together. 

You gulp and wipe your sweaty hands on the expensive dress that was bought for this occasion. You have to close your eyes for a moment before taking a step and walking behind them.

“I thought they’d have a butler opening doors and waiting for us outside.” Your stepmother jokes, at least you hope that she’s joking as she rings the doorbell. You wonder how they’re benefitting from this as you wait.

Soon enough the door opens and you get greeted by a man that’s well dressed-up. A man in his uniform. Your stepmother is the first one to enter the house, she walks confidently into the place, she turns to get a good look at that part of the mansion. Then your father walks in, but he isn’t interested in looking around, he’s interested in catching up to his wife.

Then there’s you. Your gaze falls to the floor and you put on a shy smile as you walk into the house. When you finally look up, you notice that there’s not that many people, at least not as many as you expected. 

“Naobito.” Your father smiles as he acknowledges the man that is walking over. Your stepmother puts on her best smile, and adjusts her posture, shooting you a glare to do the same. You attempt to be the woman she wants you to be. “Friend.” The man replies. He then looks at your stepmother with a slight disgusted look, and then at you. It’s so easy to differentiate who is who. The man smiles at you, at least you don’t lack looks. “My nephew is upstairs, he’ll come down soon and then we can start. Just a heads up, there’s a couple reporters that will ask about how you two met, and I’m leaving it up to you. Just say you two met at a coffee shop and it was love at first sight. Have been dating for a couple of months. Toji will fuck it up somehow.”

“Toji?” Your father questions. They had previously agreed on Jinichi, so was Naobito playing around? “You’re getting the names confused, I told you to stop drinking booze.”

“No, she’s marrying Toji.” Naobito confirms, and you can’t understand why your father is so affected by this. He’s in shock. Your father has known the Zenins for a long time, so what could Toji possibly have done to cause such a reaction?

“The good-for-nothing that ran away? He’s back?” A tone of offense is clear in your father’s voice. No one notices the man that’s at the top of the stairs, listening to every single word. “There’s no way you’re thinking my daughter is getting married to him of all people.”

“It’s either that or no one at all. I’m not marrying Jinichi, someone who has potential, to a single mother like your daughter.” Naobito says, and your heart nearly breaks and you want to break down in tears. But you remember her words, and act like a proper lady. You don’t smile, you hold your posture and steady your breath so you don’t begin crying. “You want someone who will give a house and pay for everything for your daughter, and we want someone who will fix Toji’s absolutely horrible reputation in the media. He’s ruining the Zenin’s pristine reputation and we’re hoping this engagement can fix this. It’s a win-win situation.”

“I don’t-'' Your father begins but your stepmother discreetly pinches him and he stops. Noaobito’s eyes fall on you.

“Don’t take it the wrong way. You’re just not fit enough… Maybe a couple years back, when you didn’t have your creature.” He tries his best to seem as if he has good intentions, but his words show who he really is. “Plus it’s perfect. He has a son too, just a couple months old, so not only will he be a stepfather, but you’ll be a stepmother.”

You don’t say anything because it feels as if you have no words left in you, even if you haven’t spoken. There’s a lump in your throat that holds back your tears, and you’re afraid your words will release it and cause you to cry. The fact that you’re thought of as less-than because of your daughter is just something that you can’t wrap your head around. But you still give him a nod in response.

Soon enough he slightly turns and faces the stairs, making you look at them too. Slowly walks down a tall, muscular man with a hostile look on his face. He has mid-length black hair, a few strands fall over his emerald green eyes. What really catches your attention is the scar that’s located on the right side of his mouth. You feel your cheeks get warm.

You hope that he’s your soon-to-be husband only because of the physical attraction you feel towards him. You don’t believe in love at first sight, and you know that no emotions will develop quickly so you can at least hope your husband is handsome. He reaches the last step and then he’s on the first floor. He walks over to you.

“Toji.” Naobito says. “Why did you take so long?”

“Sorry, Megumi just took forever to fall asleep. He’s such a crybaby.” Toji lies, hoping that if he complains about his son that you’d be scared and rethink the marriage. He thinks that somehow this is up to you. “He didn’t even let me sleep last night.”

You don’t say anything, you just stare at him which pisses him off. Toji already doesn’t like you but those feelings can change at the end of the day. At the end of the day he’ll either grow to like you or hate you, and it was all up to the final decision.

Naobito calls the butler, and the butler comes with a black box. Toji is forced to take the box, and he puts it in his pocket.

“We’ll give you five minutes to speak to each other, after, come outside to propose. The photographer and reporter are ready.” Naobito instructs before guiding your father and stepmother elsewhere.

Toji and you just stare at each other for a minute or so. Toji decides to get straight to the point, knowing that there’s no way you can read his mind. “I want you to reject the proposal.”

“And I’m not going to reject the proposal. It’s not up to me.” You respond and he doesn’t like your response.

“What do you mean it’s not up to you? You have freewill, don’t you? Reject the proposal.” He insists. “Don’t you have freewill? Instead of forcing me to reject the proposal, just don’t ask.” You tell him, making him click his tongue.

“The problem is if I don’t ask, they’ll kick me out because I’m unwilling to cooperate with them.” He reveals, making you sigh.

“I’m stuck too. If I reject the proposal, my daughter and I will be kicked out.” You answer. “We don’t have any other option here so let’s just try to get along.”

“But you have the option to reject me. That’s easy.” Toji continues, labeling your refusal to cooperate as plain selfishness. He doesn’t really care to think about your position and how you’re trying your best for your daughter.

He glares at you, and you notice but don’t pay attention to it. If he’s unhappy, that’s on him. You’re unhappy too, but ultimately you’re trying to do what’s best.

“Let’s go to the garden, the reporter and photographer are waiting.” You say, and begin to walk. The sound of your heels hitting the floor irritates him. 

“Fuck you.” He mutters under his breath. And he hasn’t gotten to know you for ten minutes but he hates you. That’s decided in his heart because you’re not giving him what he wants so he’s forced to follow behind you.

Once you get outside, your eye is immediately drawn to the beautiful flowers that are outside. Your father and stepmother are nearby, talking to Naobito. Their eyes fall on you and Toji who’s behind you.

You begin to walk around the garden, a massive garden that never in your life did you think you would see. The photographer follows behind, trying to be discreet and not spoil the “surprise”. He just acts as if he’s a part of the family.

You notice the red rose bush and you’re drawn to it. You’re tempted to touch the roses, and your finger is so close to the flower but you stop yourself. Toji knows that the reporter is nearby, and he doesn’t want to fuck things up. He has to be romantic .

As much as he doesn’t want this, ultimately he wants you to be the one to fuck things up. Toji puts up an act since his uncle is also watching. He wants his uncle to see that he tried everything and in the end you are the one that doesn’t want anything to do with him. 

Toji wraps his arms around you, from behind which catches you off-guard. He can feel the corset through the dress and it makes you uncomfortable. He puts his chin on your shoulder before pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“You look beautiful today.” Toji comments, his voice loud enough for the reporter to hear. You wonder if they think why such an intimate moment is forced to become public. But then again the Zenins business has always been important in the media and they’re attempting to keep a pristine image which apparently can’t be possible because of Toji.

“Thank you…” You respond, taking your hand back because touching the rose just wasn’t that fascinating anymore. A stranger is holding you and you can’t do anything about it. A stranger is going to propose and you’re forced to say yes because if you don’t say yes, you’ll end up in the street with no means to survive with your daughter.

He turns you around to force you to look at him. There’s a smile on his face but his eyes are empty. No emotion behind it because how could there possibly be any emotion behind them? You met perhaps ten minutes ago. He pecks your lips, causing your face to get warm.

“I love you so fucking much.” He says empty words that can be written down and be deemed as romantic. His uncle listens and he’s not pleased with the cursing, but at least it’s not something that’s too bad.

“I love you too.” You reply with a tiny smile on your face. You watch as he gets the little black box that he has in his pocket, out. You begin to wonder why it has to be this way, why can’t they just say it’s an arranged marriage.

The Zenins want it to look as if Toji has an option. That at the end you are the woman he chose and he ended up fixed. They want to look like the perfect family that the media has always sold.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you because you’re…” Toji has to shut his eyes for a moment. He imagines someone else that’s standing in front of him. When his eyes open his expression grows tender. “You’re the woman I want to see each time I wake up. I want to grow old with you. Ever since you walked into my life, you’ve made it better. You’re such a great mother to our-”

Suddenly he chokes up, tears building up in his eyes when his imagination gives out. But he remains his composure and holds back the tears. His face goes back to being cold and the passionate tone he had was long gone. “What I’m trying to say is, will you marry me?”

He opens the little box, not bothering to get on one knee. He isn’t devoted to you and he certainly doesn’t have any sort of respect. There is no love either. There’s nothing. He’s getting married to a complete stranger and it feels surreal. But the flashes of the camera remind him how real everything is.

“Oh my God- Yes!” You smile and pretend to be excited as you look at the ring. He takes the diamond ring out of the box and slips it on your ring finger. What are you supposed to do next?

Your hands wrap behind his neck and you peck his lips. You notice the flash of the camera and you act surprised at the photographer. You look back at your now fiancé and then at the photographer.

“So this is why you have been acting so mysterious!” You say. You’re quickly approached by another man. He wears a white sweater, black jeans and glasses.

“If it’s not too much of a hassle, may I ask a couple questions?” The man is quick to say. He clears his throat before scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I suppose I should congratulate you first.”

“It’s alright.” You assure him. “Although we would like a couple minutes alone, and then we can answer questions.”

“Alright, we’ll be waiting inside.” The man responds with a smile. The photographer and him walk inside and you’re left behind with Toji. Once they’re in the house, Toji asks the question he had forgotten to ask.

“What’s your name, again? Naobito told me but I don’t remember.” Toji speaks, making you roll your eyes. You tell him your name. “Well, I’m Toji Fushiguro.”

“Fushiguro?” You look at him in confusion. You have understood that he is a Zenin, but then again you never really got to know who of his parents was the Zenin. He just nods and you don’t think about it for too long. “Alright…”

“So we met at a coffee shop and it was love at first sight… How old is your son?” You tell him, and he furrows his eyebrows.

“What does my son’s age have to do with any of this?” He replies with a nasty tone.

“It’s due to the time we have been together. If we’ve been together longer than the time your son has been alive, you’ll be labeled as a cheater.” You explain. “This is all to clean your family’s reputation.”

“They’re not my family.” Toji is quick to say. “But he’s nine months old.”

“What happened with his mother?” You innocently ask and he gives you a nasty look. 

“That’s none of your fucking business.” He’s clearly angry by the question, and you’re tempted to apologize but you don’t. You don’t think you should because this is information you have to know sooner or later since he is your future husband.

“Well then we have been together for eight months.” You inform him and he shakes his head.

“For five.” He responds. “We’ve been together for five months.”

“Alright then, let’s go inside.” You begin to walk inside and he follows behind. You get back into the mansion and sigh before walking to the reporter.

“We’re ready.” You announce and the man nods, as he gets his notepad and pen ready.

The man looks at all the questions he has written down. Something that should be easy to paint Toji and you in a good image. He then realizes that he hasn’t even introduced himself.

“I’m Jin Itadori.” He smiles and you smile back at him. Toji doesn’t care to smile.

“Well Mr. Itadori, it’s nice to meet you. We’re ready for any questions that you have for us.”

[db0xtae]

Winning the Breakup | Chapter 3

- Minho (Xo Kitty) X Reader

⋆˚࿔ Summary : Y/N, a talented and athletic after an intense breakup, Y/N reluctantly agrees to fake date Minho, to make their exes jealous. What begins as a mutual arrangement soon turns complicated when their fake relationship starts to feel all too real. With humor, bickering, and tender moments, Minho and Y/N's journey proves that sometimes the best way to heal from heartbreak is to allow yourself to fall in love.

⋆˚࿔ Warnings : None

⋆˚࿔ WC : 975

⋆˚࿔ Previous Chapter : 2

⋆˚࿔ A/N : Hope you enjoy!!!

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Chapter 3: The First Date

Sunday arrived far too quickly for Y/N’s liking. She’d spent the better part of the morning pacing around her dorm room, second-guessing her outfit for what Minho had so helpfully dubbed their “first date.”

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Y/N muttered, staring at herself in the mirror. She’d settled on a simple yet cute outfit: a cream cardigan over a fitted tank top, high-waisted jeans, and white sneakers. It was casual enough not to scream “I’m trying too hard,” but still flattering enough to fit the fake girlfriend image.

Her roommate, Hana, raised an eyebrow from her bed. “You’re talking to yourself again. What’s the big deal? It’s just Minho.”

“Exactly,” Y/N said, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s Minho! The most insufferable guy at KISS. And now I have to spend the entire afternoon pretending I don’t want to strangle him.”

Hana smirked. “You’ll survive. Besides, isn’t he, like, ridiculously hot?”

“Hotness doesn’t make up for his personality,” Y/N retorted, grabbing her bag. “Wish me luck. Or don’t. I’m doomed either way.”

Minho was already waiting for her at the park, leaning casually against a bench like he’d just stepped out of a photoshoot. He was wearing a black turtleneck, tailored jeans, and a designer jacket, his hair perfectly styled.

Y/N approached him with a sigh. “You’re overdressed. This isn’t a K-drama.”

“And you’re underdressed,” he shot back, smirking. “This is supposed to be a date, Y/N. Put some effort in.”

“I look fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Wow, your enthusiasm is overwhelming,” Minho said, rolling his eyes. “Come on, we’re going for a walk.”

The two of them strolled through the park, trying to look like a couple while keeping as much distance between them as possible. Minho, apparently noticing the gap, grabbed her hand without warning.

“What are you doing?” Y/N hissed, yanking her hand back.

“People are watching,” he said simply, nodding toward a group of students from KISS sitting nearby. “You want them to believe us, right?”

Reluctantly, Y/N let him take her hand again. “This is the worst idea ever.”

Minho grinned. “You say that now, but by the end of the day, you’ll be thanking me.”

After walking for a while, Minho led her to an ice cream stand.

“I’ll take vanilla,” he told the vendor, then glanced at Y/N. “What about you?”

“Chocolate,” she said.

Minho paid for both, handing her the chocolate cone. “See? I’m a great fake boyfriend. Generous and thoughtful.”

“You’re literally just doing the bare minimum,” Y/N replied, taking a bite of her ice cream.

“Details,” he said with a shrug.

As they sat down on a nearby bench, a little girl walked up to them, staring at Minho with wide eyes.

“Are you a model?” she asked shyly.

Minho beamed. “Why, yes, I am.”

Y/N burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.”

“What?” Minho said defensively. “She asked!”

The girl giggled, then ran back to her parents, leaving Minho looking oddly pleased with himself.

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” Y/N said, shaking her head.

“I’m just giving the people what they want,” he replied, flashing her a wink.

As they continued their “date,” Y/N couldn’t help but notice how many KISS students they kept running into. It was almost suspicious.

“Did you tell the entire school to hang out here today?” she asked as another group of students waved at them.

“Of course not,” Minho said innocently. “But if people happen to see us together, who am I to stop them?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming,” he corrected.

She ignored him, but when they passed Alex and his new girlfriend, her heart skipped a beat. Alex froze when he saw them, his expression shifting from surprise to something that looked suspiciously like jealousy.

“Y/N?” Alex said, his tone laced with disbelief.

“Alex,” she replied coolly, tightening her grip on Minho’s hand.

Minho, ever the opportunist, pulled her closer, slipping an arm around her waist. “Hey, man,” he said casually. “You doing okay?”

Alex’s jaw tightened. “Fine. You two are…together?”

“Yep,” Minho said, smirking. “Crazy, right? Guess we were meant to be.”

Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Well, we should get going. See you around.”

As they walked away, she glanced back to see Alex watching them, his expression unreadable.

“You’re welcome,” Minho whispered, clearly pleased with himself.

“For what?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For making your ex jealous, obviously,” he said. “Did you see his face? Priceless.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Y/N muttered, but she couldn’t deny that it felt oddly satisfying.

Later that evening, after their “date” was officially over, Y/N found herself sitting on the steps of her dorm, reflecting on the day.

To her surprise, Minho appeared, holding two cans of soda.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Thought you might want a drink,” he said, handing her a can.

She took it, eyeing him suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said, sitting down beside her. “I’m just being nice. Shocking, I know.”

Y/N snorted. “You, nice? That’s a first.”

“Hey, I can be nice when I want to be,” he said, opening his can.

They sat in silence for a moment, the awkwardness of the day fading into something almost comfortable.

“Do you think this is actually going to work?” Y/N asked finally.

Minho glanced at her, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah, I do. But only if we’re both all in.”

“All in,” she repeated, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

He smirked, his usual cockiness returning. “Just don’t fall for me, darling.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t worry. That’s not going to happen.”

But as she looked at him, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just made a promise she couldn’t keep.

[frayedcircus]

doodling in a whiteboard with some friends and accidentally created the sloppiest most pathetic wet cat of a man you’ve ever seen. i hate him so much i hope he dissolves.

we named him cohan rivers bc it’s an awful name<333

(he secretly has weezer blue eyes)

thank you to @pearonpizza @yellowfrog456 @unofficial-trader-joes and @barrkcaat for helping create this horrible guy.

[venuslut]

FANTASIZING ABOUT a needy Choso Kamo ♡︎.

He can’t help it. Ever since you first introduced him to sex, he just can’t get enough. It’s not his fault that your cunt is so addicting, so much so that he’s often begging you to let him fuck you on his cock. It’s not his fault that you moan so beautifully that he can’t help but thrust into you harder so you’ll make more of those pretty sounds for him. It’s not his fault that you taste so good and he has to have you on his tongue, drinking your juices until you’re shaking and crying. He doesn’t mean to be so needy, but you bring out this side of him he can’t control.

How is he supposed to control himself when you walk around in those skimpy clothes, showing off your plump ass and perfect tits? It’s impossible. He’ll try to resist, have some self-control. But it isn’t long before he’s hugging you from behind, dotting wet kisses along your neck and pushing his hard-on into your ass. All while he’s begging you let him feel your wet cunt. And of course you’ll let him, how could you say no to your cute desperate boyfriend.

The minute you agree he has you laid out under him as he fucks his big cock into your tight cunt. Moaning and whimpering about how good it feels to be inside you again, his face red as he pushes every last inch of himself into you. He uses his weight to thrust into you, which only made your head go dizzy. He has you in a lazy mating press and your plush thighs slap against his hips every time he comes down, the sound of Choso’s deep thrusts is so musical, his tip abusing your womb to the point your eyes roll back. His mouth is so filthy too, and the worst part is, is that he doesn’t even realize it. “Fuck, baby... you’re sucking me in... your pussy’s so tight.” He groans into your ear, sucking onto your skin and leaving purple marks behind, intent on marking you as his. Although there was no point since you still had the hickeys from your last encounter, but it was never enough for Choso.

The poor curse is so in love with your body that he’ll go on for hours and hours just playing with your body. If it was up to him, you both would never leave the bed. Who needs to eat when he can just eat your cunt and you can suck his cock? Who needs to sleep when there’s a new position he wants to try? This man will not stop because that’s how addicted he is to your cunt. You curse the curse’s stamina and sometimes wish you had a normal boyfriend, but he usually fucks those thoughts right out of your head before you can try and act on them. “Choso… ngh!— h-hold on, my body…” you mumbled, unable to fully say your sentence. He hits a particularly sensitive spot and you let out a strangled cry, bucking your hips wildly to try and get that same pleasure again. Choso eyed your reaction, angling his hips to continue hitting that spot over and over again til you’re seeing stars and screaming out his name. You had no thoughts about shame, or how you should lower your voice, not when your handsome boy was fucking you within an inch of your life.

“Right there? ‘s that the spot, dove?” He pants, voice hoarse from his overwhelming desire for you. You’ve lost track of time, to obsessed with the way Choso has you creaming around his cock for the nth time. Everything was too much, but you loved it, in an addictive way. The overstimulation was addicting. His words were addicting. The sound of the bed hitting the wall was addicting. His cock was addicting. He was addicting. You always tease Choso about his neediness when in reality, you’re just as needy and obsessed as he is. You can tell Choso is close by the way his cock twitched inside you and how he speeds up his movements, rutting into you with wild abandon and chasing his orgasm.

You throw your head back into a pillow, your vision almost going black as you were consumed with ecstasy. The air was knocked out of your lungs with every snap of his hips, your senses filled with just the pressure of Choso. It felt like you were gonna throw up, but not in a bad way. “Baby… babybabybabybaby! A-ah! Mgn…” you cried out in pleasure, clawing at the sheets below you. Choso’s hands tightened around your hips, his careful grip growing into a bruising hold as he was solely focused on reaching his climax. “Hah— you feel sososososo good, dove. I love you, I love you so much,” he whimpered. It was right there, he could feel it, just a couple more thrusts and he’ll finally have his release. He wants to cum so bad, he needs to cum.

“Hey dove? C-can I fill your pretty pussy with my cum? Wanna cum inside you,” he begged, his voice broken as he pleads with you. “Please, my love… I want to stuff your pussy with my cum, wanna fill you up…” he continues, kissing your ankle and calf to convince you further. You didn’t need much convincing though, you were already to dumb and out-of-it to deny the poor curse. Frantically, you nodded your head, just wanting to feel his hot semen inside you. And you finally got your wish after a few more sloppy thrusts, before Choso goes still and empties his balls into your awaiting cavern. He lets out a guttural moan as ropes of cum spurt out. Slowly, he pulls out, his cock coated in a translucent white, his thighs and pelvis sticky from a mix of sweat and cum.

You both lay there in silence, the sounds of your labored breathing being the only noise echoing through the room. While coming down from your high, you remember that the reason you even got dressed today was because you had work. Annoyed, you lightly smack the upside of Choso’s head, complaining about how he made you late while you go to get out of bed and put your clothes back on. Choso rubs the area where you hit him as he watched you struggle to move and get out of bed, he looks at you like a kicked puppy and he knows he should be sorry for making you late but he can’t find it in him to feel guilty. Instead, Choso reaches out and wraps his arms around you, pulling you back further onto the bed and flushed against his sweaty chest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and he lines soft kisses to your nape.

“I’m sorry, dove… Why don’t you call out and let me eat your pussy as an apology?”

[tacticalprincess]

tw somno, dubcon

könig using your pussy as a soothing agent for his nightmares. :(

you convince yourself it makes sense. he sees you as proof of everything good in the world, the one and only thing dear to him. sometimes when he sleeps his subconscious convinces him he’s still out on the battlefield, replaying his worst, most unlivable moments. so when he wakes up and needs something real and good to cling onto, simply clutching you tighter in his heavy arms isn’t enough. he complains that he can never get you as close as he needs you, so in moments like these it’s not uncommon to wake up to him slipping inside your soft, pliant pussy. all he has to do is lift your leg up and ease into your sleeping body from behind, and he rationalizes it by saying that it wouldn’t be so easy if you didn’t want it. it’s like your pussy is könig-shaped, always so accommodating for him.

“köni—?” you whine pathetically, brain still foggy from sleep. “bad dream?”

you hear him whimper at that through his heavy huffs. it’s still up for debate who’s more vulnerable in these moments. “shhh. let me have this, engel. you’re too far away.”

not having the energy to question him, you sigh and shift your ass back, taking advantage of how relaxed your body is to close the gap and spear yourself fully on his big cock. “‘m right here. you have it.” you comfort him lazily, eyes still closed as you clutch the large hand that comes to rest on your stomach, plastering you against his warm chest. “go back to sleep.”

you’ll make sure he’s okay in the morning, but for right now you let him take what he needs. it’s not like you could ever understand the psychological effects of warfare, it’s the least you can do for your hardworking boyfriend :(

“so good to me, so perfect.” he kisses the back of your head reverently, cock twitching inside of you. he ignores every impulse in body that’s telling him to fuck into you with all his strength, instead mindlessly grinding his hips as deep inside you as he can reach, holding onto you and soothing himself with the feeling of being encompassed by your sweet warmth.

it’s always just as mind blowing to him as the first time; how quickly your pussy is able to comfort him, putting him to sleep in more ways than one. if that isn’t proof enough of how meant for him you are, he doesn’t know what is…

[hoshifighting]

Could we get a reaction where the members make the reader cry?

seungcheol would freeze the moment he sees the tears in your eyes. he’s not used to seeing you like this, and it hits him harder than any argument ever could. “fuck, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—” he’d start, reaching out but stopping himself, his voice would drop, softer, “please, just... i’m an idiot, okay? i’ll fix it, i swear.” unsure if he should touch you yet. “hey, i’m sorry… i didn’t mean to… please, don’t cry.” he’s not good with his words when he’s panicking, but he’ll do anything to fix this, to make you smile again.

jeonghan prides himself on being the calm in the storm but when you start to cry... “are you seriously crying right now?” he’d say, but his voice would crack just a bit, backstabbing his own emotions. when he realizes that he’s the reason for your tears, the smirk would drop from his face, and he’d feel a pang of guilt deep in his chest. “shit, i didn’t want to make you cry,” he’d mutter, suddenly feeling helpless.

joshua’s heart would break at the sight of your tears. he’s always been the one to comfort you, not the one to cause your pain. “hey, hey, don’t cry,” he’d say softly, his hand reaching out to gently wipe your tears away. the guilt would eat at him as he realizes just how much he’s hurt you.

junhui would panic a little when he sees you crying. seeing you like this would make him feel lost. “wait, don’t cry, please,” he’d say, his voice almost pleading. he’d step closer, unsure of how to comfort you but desperate to try.

soonyoung would be devastated, immediately regretting whatever he said or did to make you cry. “shit, no, don’t cry,” he’d blurt out, his own eyes starting to water just at the sight of you. he’d pull you into his arms without a second thought, holding you close. “no, no, no… please don’t cry, i’m so sorry.” he’ the type of dude who doesn’t knows how to react when people are crying. especially if he’s the cause.

wonwoo would be stunned, when he sees your tears. he’s not good with words, but he’d try his best. “i’m so sorry… i didn’t mean to hurt you, you know that...” he’d say quietly. he’d reach out, hesitating for a moment before gently touching your shoulder. “i’m sorry. let’s talk, okay? i want to make this right.” he’ll do his best to express how much he cares, how much he didn’t want this to happen. he’ll sit with you, offering his hand, hoping you’ll take it. if you do, he’ll hold on tight, silently vowing to never let this happen again.

woozi would be hit with a wave of guilt that he couldn’t quite hide, even with his regular stoic expression. “you’re crying? jagi please let me—” “you’re so mean jihoon!” he’d feel a tightness in his chest, hating himself for being the cause of your pain. “i’m sorry… i shouldn’t have said that. i don’t want to see you like this.” he might not know what to say at first, standing there, feeling like the worst person in the world. he’ll gently take your hand, rubbing small circles on the back of it, his way of comforting you. he’ll sit with you in silence if that’s what you need.

minghao hates the idea of making you cry. he really likes balance and harmony, so seeing your tears feels like a personal failure. minghao will gently guide you to sit down, offering you a tissue and giving you the space to express how you’re feeling. he’s good at listening, at understanding what’s beneath the surface, and he’ll do everything he can to reassure you, to make sure you know that he cares deeply. his touch is gentle, comforting, as he promises to do better.

mingyu + seeing you cry because of him would completely wreck him. he’d instantly feel like the worst boyfriend in the world, his heart breaking at the sight of your tears. “oh no… don’t cry because of me, I don’t deserve it...” mingyu would pull you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder, whispering apologies and trying to comfort you as best as he can. he’d probably end up crying a little himself, unable to stand the thought of hurting you. he’ll do anything to make things right, to bring back your smile.

seokmin is always careful with his words, so when he sees you crying because of something he said, it feels like a knife to the chest, hands reaching out to cup your face, gently wiping away the tears. he’s the type to immediately feel guilty, replaying every word he said in his head, wondering where he went wrong. he’s desperate to make it right, holding you close and whispering apologies until you both calm down.

seungkwan will do anything—make silly faces, tell stupid jokes, even sing your favorite song—just to see you smile again, when that doesn’t work, he’ll just sit beside you, his heart breaking a little more every time he hears you sniffle. deep down, he’s scared, scared that he’s hurt you too much this time.

vernon feels like the ground’s been pulled out from under him. “shit, i—i’m sorry.” he’ll try his best, awkwardly pulling you into a hug, he’ll stay quiet, holding you until your breathing evens out.

chan seeing you cry because of him would completely break his heart. “shit, babe, i didn’t mean it like that.” his eyes loaded with worry as he reaches out to you. chan would pull you into a tight hug, holding you close as if he could shield you from any more pain, his heart breaking a little more every time he sees another tear fall.

[pencil-n-pen]

SPILL YOUR GUTS

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

practice boyfriend! eddie x fem! reader

summary: eddie’s your practice boyfriend. you’re positive he’s upset at you and you’re waiting for him to get mad. however, he has a different response in mind.

cw: references/allusions to past child abuse but extremely vague, references/allusions to bad relationships (also pretty vague), reader acts on a learned response and assumes the worst about Eddie, anxiety

tags/tropes: angst, hurt/comfort (my brand!) sappy sappy romantic idiots, they kiss and figure their mess out at the end

a/n: this came to me in a vision

summary makes this sound smutty but i promise it’s not. this accidentally became disgustingly romantic. read at your own risk :)

࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

You’re positive Eddie’s mad at you.

Okay. Maybe positive is a strong word. But still.

You’ve only been fake/pretend/practice dating Eddie for about two weeks now. He’s the one who approached you with the offer��� when you were in the Upside Down together, you’d made an off-hand comment about how you might die without ever having a real boyfriend- not one that mattered, anyway. It’s always kind of been a sore spot for you for a good portion of your life. Growing up, you didn’t really have the best relationship with your dad (Robin likes to call that “The understatement of the year, and we almost died.”) and out of the incredibly small handful of guys you’ve gone out with, none stuck around longer than a month and all ended in such equally, specifically, and uniquely horrific ways, you finally came to the conclusion you had to be fucking something up. What are the chances of all them ended so completely horribly?

After you all had decidedly not died in the Upside Down, Eddie approached you with an offer: pretend date him. You’re popular and well known enough that it’ll help get people off his back about the whole Chrissy/murders thing —even though he’s been absolved of all charges, the people of Hawkins hold grudges— and in exchange, you get a trial run of a relationship that won’t end unless you both agree too— you get to figure out what you’re doing wrong.

You feel bad about it, because even though you spend so much time together, you feel like a nervous wreck. All. The. Time.

You’re constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop— waiting for him to tell you that you’re too weird, that you’re not considerate enough, that you’re selfish, or that you talk too much.

But he never says any of it. All he ever tells you is the good things. He tells you how sympathetic you are, how kind you are, how good you are at remembering little details that matter. He tells you that you’re a good kisser.

(Yeah. Your first kiss, even after those failed relationships, ended up being with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. You’re not quite sure you’ll ever forget how you felt when his lips —just a little cracked, but not rough— met yours; when his hair tickled your face and you could faintly smell the cigarette smoke that stubbornly clings to all of his clothes, no matter how many times he washes them. You didn’t tell him he was your first. That’s something you decided you couldn’t bear to share.

You kind of have a feeling he knows anyway, though.)

It all sets you on edge. You’re under no reassurance that you’re perfect. You’re currently questioning if you’re tolerable, from a romantic standpoint.

You know how you are. You’re clinging and you drink up reassurance like a dying man in the desert. You linger in his casual touches like it’s the first and last time you’ll ever feel them. You know you’re a lot. You know. You know that guys in a relationship don’t want ‘a lot’, they want a pretty thing to hang off their arm and laugh at what they say.

But you just… can’t.

You tried, and you tried, and you tried. But you always ended up being too much, or it didn’t work out for some other reason. You want more. You want to feel safe, and happy, and cherished and loved and all those things that only happen in the movies.

The ironic part of all of this is that when you first started setting out terms for your arrangement, Eddie had told you flat out: “This will only work if you are completely and one-hundred percent yourself. You gotta lay it all on me, angel.”

And so you had, and now you regret it because he’s upset about something.

You’d come over to his trailer at his request to ‘hang out’ while he went over DND stuff for his next campaign. Eddie does this a lot— he calls them ‘Neutral Dates’ where you’re not really doing anything in particular- most of the time, you’re both doing seperate things, but still just being in each other’s presence.

It’s nice. The majority of your friend circle consists of everyone involved with the Upside Down and that entire mess. You two are no Steve and Robin (you’re convinced those two have the kind of bond no one can replicate or break. Like the kind of bond stray cats get and then they have to be adopted together) but it’s still nice. To just be with someone.

Even if you feel like you’re walking on eggshells.

It’s not always eggshells. Sometimes, for a a few moments, you forget. You forget it’s all pretend. You forget he’s just a friend helping a friend fulfill a goal. That’s all.

You’ve almost forgotten just now, too— you’re too concerned about what you might’ve done.

He’s not acting angry, per-se, but he’s definitely upset. You tend to pick up on this kind of thing: small changes in someone’s personality or body language. Most of the time it’s not a conscious habit.

Most of the time.

Right now, he’s run his hands through his hair about a million times. It’s become a frizzy mess behind him, and when you’d made an offhand joke about it —an attempt to lighten the mood— all he’d done was scowl. Not at you, really, but the message was there. You’d snapped your jaw shut so fast you’re pretty sure he heard your teeth click.

After that he’d frustratedly made tea for the both of you, which consisted of opening the cupboards faster than he usually did, closing them slightly louder than he usually does, and drumming his fingers impatiently on the stove-top while he waited for the kettle to boil.

All of this you observed from the corner of your eye while ‘reading’ on the couch.

And if all of that wasn’t bad enough, when you’d finally mustered up the courage to speak again, a little joke about a part in the book you were reading, all he’d said was a flat:

“That’s great, babe.”

You’re starting to get antsy. Nervous. Maybe you should go? Unless he gets upset at you leaving. That would be bad. But he’s clearly upset with you being here, so maybe you should go.

While you’re debating the pros and cons of leaving, you try to remain as still and silent as possible. No need to upset him anymore by moving too much or being too loud.

You flip a page in the book you’re no longer reading (he might notice you’re not paying attention to it anymore) and decide to test the waters again.

“The author just spelled restaurant wrong. That’s the third spelling mistake I’ve caught in this book.”

“Hmm.”

Okay. So that was worse. Talking to him is out of the question, then. It must be something you did, to warrant this kind of reaction.

You wrack your brain, trying to think of anything you could’ve done in recent hours to make him upset, but you can’t think of anything.

You glance slightly to the right— not far enough that he’ll see you looking at him, but far enough to get a better look at him in your peripheral. He’s glaring down at his campaign notebook. Shit, he looks so angry.

Unbidden, tears begin to well in your eyes and you try to shift, trying to angle yourself away from him enough that he can’t see the tears in your eyes.

But your hand shifts, knocking into his leg.

Fuck. “Sorry!”

You yank you arm back as if burned, jolting back on the couch so you’re in no danger of touching him. “I’m sorry!”

He sits up, immediately snapping to attention at the desperation coloring your voice. “Woah woah, hey. Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

You take a steadying breath. “Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks blankly at you. Oh shit, you’re supposed to know that you’ve done something wrong.

“I mean,” You hurry to correct, “I know I— Can you tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it?”

Understanding floods his features and you brace yourself, ready for the reprimand.

“Can I touch you?”

Now it’s your turn to stare with confusion. You nod once, briefly thinking about how weird it is to ask for permission first.

He sits up on the couch, facing you with his legs crossed, the couch springs squeaking loudly at his movement. You resist the urge to wince. He reaches out with a slow hand, taking the hand that’s still clenched, held away from him and up near your chest.

He stares down at your hand, holding it with his left hand and tracing delicate shapes on it with his right. His ringed fingers drag lines around your knuckles and veins, lingering occasionally over the odd, old scar.

“How long did you think I was upset with you?”

Your heart is racing, muscles tensed and ready to bolt. “Um. A few hours? Maybe?”

You’re hyper-aware of the grip he has on your hand, and how quickly and easy it could become crushing.

It doesn’t.

“Bug,” He says slowly after a moment. At first he used to use pet names as a joke— it was something you’d laugh at, between the two of you, since the relationship wasn’t real.

But recently, he’s been saying them with a different inflection in his tone. A little less teasing, a lot more fond.

“Have you spent the past few hours afraid that I was mad at you?”

He sounds… sad. Which is confusing. It doesn’t— he was. He was.

“But you were,” You say, suddenly unsure about anything and everything. “You were upset.”

“I was upset because I couldn’t work this part of the campaign out, and i’m dramatic. I was never mad at you, honey. I was never mad at you.”

You frown, gears turning in your head. “When I made that joke about your hair, you glared at me. And then when I tried to talk to you, you were upset. You didn’t want to talk.”

“I was jokingly glaring at you, I’m so sorry you thought I was serious. I wasn’t, I promise. I didn’t mean to be dismissive, I was really focusing on writing.”

You’re both silent for a moment. A beat too long. You want to squirm in the unwelcome space the silence has created.

“What did you think I was going to do?”

That is a loaded question.

“I don’t know,” You pick at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “I don’t— I don’t know. That’s the problem. You don’t yell at me, or get angry, or tell me when i’ve made you upset. I don’t know what you’ll do.”

He makes a wounded noise in his throat.

“I know you get angry,” You bulldoze on, “I’ve seen it. You’re so… loud, in everything you do. I know you get angry. But you never get that same kind of loud angry at me and I don’t know what to do because that means that I upset you and you don’t tell me about it and then I don’t know how to fix it. I have to fix it, Eddie.”

His eyes, deep and brown, search your face. He reaches up a hand, painfully slow, to cup your face. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you tip your head to the side, leaning into the job.

“I’m gonna tell you something, Bug. Are you listening?” He waits for you to hum in confirmation before continuing. “You’re not responsible for my moods. Or anyone else’s for that matter. That’s not your job. You don’t have to fix it.”

He reaches his second hand up to cup the other side of your face. “You know why I don’t get angry at you? Not all loud and dramatic like that? Because I’ve seen how you react when people do. And I never, ever want to be the reason you get that look in your eye. I never want to make you afraid. I never want you to believe, with proof and confidence, that I’ve grown sick of you.”

You open your eyes, eyes darting across the planes of his face. Searching for even the smallest hint, the smallest giveaway that he might be lying.

You can’t find any. In its place, you find eyes, shining with pure determination. You find lips parted ever so slightly, a sad-sort of smile being etched into being. You find two hands on your face, thumbs delicately sweeping across the skin of your under-eye, of your cheekbone. Smoothing away the steady tears that had begun falling, wiping away the hot trails they leave on your face.

And you realize all at once that love isn’t like the movies. It isn’t picture-perfect kisses. It isn’t ball gowns and dresses and kisses in the rain. It isn’t like the love you thought you were supposed to have: empty and hollow; a life of hanging off of arms and praying your next slip-up didn’t cost you your relationship.

It was this.

It was just being. Just being and knowing the other person is there for just that— for you. It was not raising your voice. It was carrying extra hair-ties. It was making two cups of coffee. It was steeping tea for an extra couple of minutes, just the way he liked it. It was playing your favorite music in the car, and looking over at each other during the bridge, belting the lyrics with the same, toothy-smile. So full and so happy you just keep screaming the lyrics, because you’re filled with so much you don’t know where to put it all.

Your tears begin to fall in earnest now. Your heart is thudding in your chest, but for a different reason now. You’re struck with the need to convey all of this to him— to tell him you understand, you know, you feel the same.

“These hair ties,” You shove your wrist up to his eye-line. “They’re for you. Because you always forget your own. And— and I steep the tea for a few extra minutes, because you like your tea strong, and you didn’t just find that tape in your van, I bought it ‘cause I know you lost the old one in the Upside Down, ‘cause it felt out of your pocket.”

You’re babbling, nearly choking on your tears and your words, rushing them all out of your mouth in an aching wish to be understood, in this very moment.

“I know,” He says, voice a little hysteric and eyes a little too bright. His lip wobbles. He presses your face tighter in his hands. “I know. I know. I see you. I see you.”

You stay like that for a little while. At some point, your hands find his wrists, and then you’re just two fools, smiling like idiots with tears streaming down your faces, staring into each others eyes.

Eventually, Eddie clears his throat. “The next time you think I’m upset at you, you tell me, okay? You can ask. You can ask me and I pinky promise I won’t get mad.”

You giggle wetly. “Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear,” He says, taking his left hand away from your face to hold up his pinky. You intertwine yours and his together, the both of you laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

He gets quiet for a moment; removes his hands from your face and instead clasps, your hands together, resting in your lap.

“You know why I never tell you when you’re being a bad practice girlfriend?” He says, his voice low and soft.

“How come?”

He smiles, full and good. “Because you’re not. You’re so sweet and kind and loving. And if you’d let me, I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

You furrow your brows. “The real kind? The I-love-you kind?”

Your face flushes over the words ‘I love you.’

“I’ve always kissed you for real,” He says, words laden with fondness. “Ever since the day we met and you slapped the shit out of me for being stupid. I’ve been hopelessly obsessed ever since. I’ve just been waiting for you to notice.”

You suck in a breath. “So all of this— the, the dates and the hanging out and the kissing— that’s all been real?”

“Every last bit.”

“Then in that case,” You say, squeezing his hands. “I would very much like you to kiss me.”

He leans in, slotting your lips together and everything just clicks. Like this is where you’re meant to be. Maybe it’s puppy love. Maybe it’s not.

All you know is that Eddie Munson is kissing you for real, and he always has been. You couldn’t ask for anything better.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 | choso kamo

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Finding out your boyfriend's a vampire was far from the chill evening you planned with him. But you can't lie, imagining those fangs sinking down on and sucking on your skin....it's kinda hot.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: vampire bf! Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern! au - oral (m! receiving) - handjob - fingering (f! receiving) - nipple play (licking, sucking, tweezing, fangs grazing) - piercings (nape and frenum) - biting (wrist, shoulder, breast, implied more afterwards) - Choso got a long schlong, rip - missionary position - overstimulation - clitoral play (swiping) - cervix fucking - the first time you and Choso have sex + you two being nervy/cute - pet names (angel, baby, princess) - Choso takes blood supplements + drinks pigs blood - Yuuji is his half-brother - mention of blood (duh) and saliva/spit - proofread but will check for more l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k (bro, wtf???)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: y'all watched that new ep, right? right. anywaysss, in celebration of choso [and yuuji]'s big fight being animated, i was thinking of vampy bf! choso for a few days and how cute/hot that would be! soooooo, enjoy~~ ☆ and tysm for 2.6k!!

“Sooo, you two gonna like fuck tonight?”

“Whatever happened to ‘How’s your day,’ ‘You doing okay,’ or ‘You still haven’t offed yourself after midterms,’ Nobara?”

“Yeah, my day is going fine, but answer the question.” 

“I swear to Christ…” you sigh heavily as you walk down the sidewalk. 

The month of October brings more dread to your being than anything else. As much as you want to be festive, order a pumpkin latte, and chill watching the leaves fall gracefully with the autumn times, college life does whatever it takes to prevent that. And what better way to do that than have you suffer with midterm exams. 

You and your roommate, Nobara, have experienced the worst, especially this week. Having to study and pull all-nighters so much that you two can count with four fingers at max how many hours of sleep you get daily. Whatever gets the work done. However, it shouldn’t cost you your necessary slumber. Even your other best friends, Yuuji and Megumi, are victims of the tests. Hell, Yuuji found out he had an exam the day BEFORE and had to come in clutch by spending the entire day finishing the two-page study guide!  

All four of you are depleted of fun; it’s non-existent as you try to navigate out of this academic hell…Despite that, though, there’s one thing you’re always looking forward to during the week: the weekend! Oh, yes, today is finally Friday. You’ve been anticipating this day throughout the week, finally done with your exams and ready to relax with your friends after so much schoolwork. But that’s not the only thing you’re looking forward to…

Because this weekend, you’ll finally be with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen since the start of midterms. Choso Kamo, Yuuji’s older half-brother and the man of your life, is the only person you’d love to see sweep you off your feet and take you in his loving arms, away from all the stress and discomfort from your college life. The two of you have been dating for almost a year, and he’s, without a doubt, the sweetest guy you ever got lucky with. 

Since the start of this semester, it’s been hard for you two to meet at one place, let alone get on the phone. With you on campus and he outside with his job as a piercer, there have been times when you thought you’d never see him until winter break. Yet, it is now fall break, and Yuuji invited you and the gang to have a relaxing weekend at Choso’s place (with his permission). You accepted the invitation with a gleeful heart, practically bouncing and giggling at the thought of being in the same place as your partner again. And that’s where you’re heading now, walking down the sidewalk to his townhouse with a duffle bag full of your stuff, and you on the phone with Nobara to keep you company. 

“All I’m saying is,” the brunette starts on the other side of the line. “If there’s ever a good time for you two to get it on, it would be this weekend.”

“I’m sorry, since when has my sex life been on your mind instead of studying for the exam you have in ten minutes?” You hear your roommate suck her teeth, and you grin with satisfaction. “Besides, he and I are waiting for the perfect time to do it, no rush. And seeing as you, Megumi, and Yuuji will be in the same place as us, I highly doubt we’d ever think of having sex.”

“Hmm, fair point —KNOCK KNOCK— WHO IS IT!!?” You almost remove the device from your ear from Nobara’s abrupt yelling. “Sorry, Y/n. Megumi is here and says we gotta head to the classroom right now.” 

“That’s fine. I’m already at Choso’s place, anyway. See you guys later, and good luck with the exam.”

“‘Kay, see ya later.” She bids you farewell. “Also, if you two ever do it this weekend and you don’t tell me, as your best-est friend, I have legal rights to make sure all your cute underwear gets thrown out next time I take out the trash.”

“Good-fucking-bye, Nobara.” You scoff, your thumb already pressing the end call button and stuffing the phone in the pocket of your leggings. 

In just the nick of time, you make it to Choso’s townhome and climb up the stairs to knock on the door. Within seconds, Yuuji opens the door and greets you with a hug. 

“Y/n!” He’s always so eager and chipper when he sees you. “I was just about to text you; gotta run to the grocery store, then head to the pizza shop to place the order.”

You enter the foyer to remove your shoes while the salmon-haired other rushes to put his on. “Oh, how come?”

“The phones and websites seem to be down, so I gotta head there in person to place the order. But don’t worry, I’ll be right back before Megumi and Nobara.” He stands to open the door again before grabbing his car keys from the rack. “Choso’s up in his room right now, so you can say hi and chill with him while I’m gone.”

“All right,” You watch Yuuji run down to the sidewalk before he stops to shout something in your direction.

“Don’t do anything too crazy, ya lovebirds!” He sends you a cheeky grin, and you give him a playful glare with puffed cheeks.

“I won’t; go get the pizza!” He laughs at your response as he jogs down the street to his car, and you close the door when you see him drive off. 

Alone with Choso…The thought of being alone with your boyfriend for a few hours has the butterflies in your stomach become active, fighting the urge to smile with warm cheeks. It’s been a hellish month thus far. Finally, after all this time, being in your boyfriend’s arms is enough to wash off all the stress you’ve pent up for the past couple of weeks.

With glee in your steps, you tip-toe up the stairs with wholesome thoughts of you and your boyfriend. I wonder if he’s been eating right these days. Same with getting sleep, he has a bad habit of sleeping at ungodly hours…Oh my God, wait, are we going to sleep together? If so, it'll be the first time we share a bed together. Does that mean—

You mentally slap yourself out of your delusion when you stop at his bedroom door. Oh, snap out of it, Y/n! That’s just Nobara getting into your head. Plus, it’s not like you two will be by yourselves for the entire night —  the other three will be here. Hell, his own younger brother will be across the exact hallway! Don’t think such horny shit, for God’s sake…

You shake your head to abolish the impure thoughts, raising your fist to knock on your boyfriend’s door. “Chocho?" You greet with a nickname. "It’s me, Y/n. I just got here and—“ 

CRASH!!

The sound makes you jump, halting you from finishing that sentence. Rushed footsteps and another noise that something was bumped into follow along. “Ch-Choso? Everything all right?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m good,” you can tell even from outside the room his voice had an unsure tone; he was, in fact, not good. “Just wait, I gotta—Ow!!”

You know you shouldn’t have done what you’re about to do as it goes against basic etiquette; however, when you hear sudden cries of pain from your boyfriend, how in the world would you stay still!? With a chewed lip, you grab the door handle and bust it open to enter his room.

You know you shouldn’t have done that. Because what you see before you is way beyond your comprehension. 

The carpeted floor had items all over the place. There are packets filled with what appear to be red liquids and tiny red pills contrasted with the white carpet. They must’ve been knocked over and made that noise. Suddenly, you notice a stain on the white mat in a bright red color. That was the thing that alerted your nerves, immediately searching for the figure standing behind the bed. It was your boyfriend, Choso Kamo.

But was it him? Because what on earth were you looking at!?? He still had the same face, light brown hair that was usually tied up now fell to his neck, his black “tattoo” on his face now red and leaking down to his chin. And his mouth was agape, your eyes noting that his canines were extended out more than usual with red fluid at the ends. Not to mention that the man was now shirtless! His bare chest and abdomen out for you, covered with smeared….Is…Is that blood?

Choso slowly moves his hands up in defense. “Y/n…Just stay calm for me, okay?”

The entire scene was too much for your brain to grasp, your breathing increasing to an unstable pattern, and your eyes looking at every jarring detail doesn’t help ease the thoughts going way too fast for you. The worried expression of your boyfriend has your body at a standstill, and your limbs quiver as if you’re about to give way. So, what are you left to do?

You faint.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

He stares at you, and you stare at him.

He averts his gaze shyly away from you, and you keep yours fixated on his.

Brown orbs teeter meekly to your figure sitting on his bed before reverting back to the other side, and yours refuse to leave his face, practically sinking holes into his forehead. 

This has been going on for five minutes ever since your consciousness returned, and Choso cleaned up the mess in his room and himself — now, he wears a black tank top after cleaning the red stains off his body. After giving you an explanation as to what happened, you haven’t said a single word to him. You only stare at him while pondering questions of your own. And you can tell the lack of communication makes the poor man uncomfortable in the confines of his bedroom. So, for his sake (and your headache-inducing curiosity), you eventually uttered something.

“So,” you say the first word with a long pause, treading carefully on which questions to ask. “Those pills…are filled with blood?”

“Yes…” He admits with his gaze still not away from you. 

“And you take them every day?”

“Twice a day…”

Okay…Next question, “And those small packets,” you point to the dresser where a pile of said red packets stack upon one another. “Also blood?” He nods slowly. “Human blood?”

He finally brings his eyesight to you but with a hurried shake to the head. “No, no! It’s pig’s blood.”

Is that worse or better?? Never mind— You then point to your set of canines. “And your teeth, I’ve never seen them that long...”

“They only get like that when I don’t drink blood for a while. So, when you knocked on my door, I was just about to open a packet. But then I heard your name and kinda panicked…”

“Oh my God…” Everything comes together and hits you all at once. From his pale skin contrasting yours, the unusual tattoo across his face now revealed as a blood mark, or all those times you caught him drinking his super red "beet juice." It all comes down to the only acceptable truth that feels foreign to leave your lips. “…..My boyfriend is a vampire.” 

Choso cringes internally at the words you uttered. The truth has finally come, and he didn’t even mean for it to happen, at least not like this. Who in their right mind would want to reveal to their partner that they’re a blood-sucking monster? It’s the most dreadful talk of his life that Choso has done all his years avoiding. And now you, his sweet, perfect thing, have discovered his abnormal existence.

“That’s…” He cringes harder when you say more words. “So...” Anxiety pools his stomach, mind filled with uneasy guesses on what you’d think of him now. He could only assume the worst; it’s only natural. “...Cool!!”

Wait, what? That’s not what he expected. Way off, actually.

He feels the dent of the bed when you move closer to him, your face merely inches away from his as you examine every single feature of him. It takes the vampiric man aback, holding his breath while watching your face stare at him intensely with your beautiful eyes, beaming with excitement and wonder. And his vision slowly drifts to your lips, watching them move as you ask questions. And he keeps staring until, “—so…Choso!!” He snaps his orbs back to yours, his cheeks blossoming pink. “I’m asking you a question. So, since you’re a vampire, how come you’re not melting or sparkling when the sun touches you? Is that why you wear black all the time?”

“You mean that stuff from the books and movies?” He questions your logic, but it’s not your fault; he’s sure many others would’ve asked the same. “I don’t know about melting, but my skin gets dry if I stay out too long.”

You hum along to his answer, nodding as if you were in a lecture. “How come Yuuji isn’t a vampire, or at least half? Wait, does he know!?”

“No! No, he doesn’t. I became a vampire because my father was a vampire and turned me and my mother into one. I think I was around the age of twenty. After she died and my dad found Itadori’s mom, he didn’t change her into one. So, with that luck, I guess he isn’t fully a vampire. But I wouldn’t blow past it if he has some characteristics…”

“I see.” Again, you nod along. That might explain some things, like why he’s so fricken fast when he plays sports and that crazy-like strength he has… “So, how long have you been like this?”

“Almost a hundred and thirty.” 

Woah. “And when have—I’m sorry, how long have you tasted human blood?”

Choso ponders on that question for a few seconds before answering. “I started when I became one. I try not to have it as I did back then; the last time I had it was around two years ago. But even then, I switched more into donated or pig’s blood for the past four decades.” 

“Do you ever have cravings for human blood?” Was that too much to ask? It possibly was because Choso makes a face that conveys slight objection. Yet your mind genuinely wanted to know.

“I do, but I try not to act on them. Especially now that I have a human brother, and you…I guess it doesn’t feel right that I do so, ya know.”

His response replays in your mind, not because you were confused but because you understood where he was coming from. You’re sure it wasn’t easy for him to go around and sink his fangs into human flesh back then; modern times should make the task a lot easier with so many people on this earth. Although, you can imagine how hard it must have been for Choso to ignore an urge like that, specifically when it caters to his whole being. Alternatives such as pills and blood packets can only do so much.

“..…Have you ever thought of biting me?” 

The question came out on its own as your curiosity got the best of you. Yet you don’t regret asking because it’s not impossible to think of ever happening.

Choso’s brown eyes look into yours sincerely, releasing a heavy sigh as if the truth was weighing him down. “…Yes.” 

Your expression doesn’t change, remaining neutral. There’s no point in asking why because you can practically answer that yourself: he doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s very considerate, so no wonder he’d put your health and well-being above all else. So, why not do the same for him? “…Would you like to taste mine?”

His eyes widen at your proposal, surveying your face to see any twinges or crack soft a smile that entails a joke. There were none, your expression exhibiting nothing but honesty. “A-Are you sure??”

You nod with a smile. “Yup. I mean, it’s not every day someone gets to have a vampire taste their blood — let alone see a vampire, period. Besides,” you stretch out your arm, your wrist stationed in front of Choso. “If it were any other random vampire, I’d probably throw garlic their way.” 

The man scoffs at your comment. “Something also you see in books and movies, Y/n.”

“Whatever,” the two of you laugh at your silliness. “But I’m serious, Chocho. I’m fine as long you’re the one doing it. So, go on.” 

A moment of hesitation keeps him in his thoughts, the mental cogs of his brain deciphering what course of action he should take. But he does take your wrist with a large hand, bringing it towards his mouth. And before you know it, the vampiric man unsheathes his fangs out for display and sinks them into your flesh, tearing the skin as they pierce through. 

The sharp pain was expected, but you still forced your eyes shut and took in a big inhale. Choso watches your reaction as his fangs take in a sample of your blood for him to taste. The familiar texture of the body fluid courses through him, and drips of it slide down to his tongue. You exhale through your mouth, pursed lips blowing out cool air. It felt as though two needles were simultaneously stabbing your wrist, your hand forming into a fist to situate yourself through the hurtful sensation. 

And Choso just keeps watching you as he drinks your red fluid, taking in your graceful reaction. He knows it hurts, but you don’t say anything, pushing through it for the sake of him. He examines your steady breathing, eyes sewn shut, and plump limps agape for inhalation. You looked so good like this — tasted good as well, very sweet with a floral scent; it must have been your signature perfume. It intoxicates him, thinking of your body and fragrance on him and your sweet taste on his tastebuds. It ignites something inside him. Something that he hadn’t experienced in a long time…

“Choso?” You call out to him as his blinks signal that he heard you. “You done there? Don’t want you sucking my arm dry.” You jest to him.

He takes the hint and removes his teeth from your wrist, licking the two pierced holes of excess blood that seeps out. “My bad.”

You tease him some more. “Do I taste that good to you?” You didn’t expect him to give you a curt nod, a silent compliment from your boyfriend. “O–Oh…That’s good to know…” You say timidly, gaze averting downwards. Then, you notice something in the crotch of his pants. You gasp: a pinched tent. Choso follows your sight, finding out about his predicament to his horror. He opens his mouth to explain himself, but you beat him. “Can I take care of it?” 

Again, Choso tries to say something, but no words dare to come out as you crawl up towards him. His brain short circuits at your movement, his back hitting the headboard of his bed. His blush creeps around to his ears, contrasting his pale skin and chocolate-colored hair. You smile at him; he’s so adorable and shy about this. “Mind I take the lead for a minute?” You ask for permission, even though the answer is quite clear when he peers at your lips. He nods, your face drawing inward and your soft lips landing on his.

One kiss. Two kisses and a moan. Three kisses pass, and it’s at this point that you two can’t get off each other. As his hand snakes to the back of your head to deepen the kiss, he takes your mewls with his lips, the insertion of his tongue making your toes curl. 

Taking the lead as promised, you bring a hand down to the zipper of his ripped jeans, bringing the zipper and the clothing down to throw on the floor. Your fingers curl around the band of his black boxer briefs, pulling them down to reveal his lo— WHAT THE FUCK!!??

His erection springs out from his underwear, and what you’re met with is a fucking behemoth. For one, the thing was way longer than you anticipated — most definitely the longest you’ve had within reach. And because of its length, it looked so pretty to look at. The way his precum trickles down his glans to the underside is so magnificent to your eyes that you’re practically stuck looking at it. And…Is that a piercing right at his frenulum? Oh, wow. Vampire dick, huh.

“Heh, you like what you see, princess?” Suddenly, you feel so small from being called out with that little tease from your boyfriend. You give him a condescending expression, making him chuckle to himself. And who told him to call you that cute nickname!?… Keep going.

Back to the matter, you ogle at his dick again and mentally prep yourself by slowly moving your hand toward it. Your fingers curl around the base and unhurriedly stroke him to figure out a good pace to start. A moan from Choso entails that you know what you’re doing, so you dial up the speed and go further up, stopping your strokes from his piercing down to the base.

He becomes more vocal as your friction becomes more confident, spitting on your hand and tightening your grip to make it easier for his rough skin to slide across your palm. Sticking with a firm and consistent rhythm, you watch your hand go to work on his shaft, watching more of his precum leak and slide down to your fingers. It was so lewd yet so arousing; you feel the throbbing heat between your legs begins to form, swaying your ass to ease the pleasurable sensation while instructing a pornographic act.

“Ahhh, ahhnn, oh shit…” He stammers to give you a proper response, your hand feeling too good. “Oh fuck, your hand feels so good, angel, so goo—Nhhhh!!”

“Really?” You can’t deny the pride you feel for yourself, so you move down to situate between his legs. “That’s all that matters, then.” You bring your free hand to massage his testicles and cover more surface, and more of Choso’s whines and croaks fill the space, his hips bucking to ensure more friction and pleasure on his end.

With the rate this is going, more of his essence leaks out from his urethra, and the raunchy image playing right in front of you has your lips quiver. An intrusive thought roams around your brain while looking at his pink glans. You chew on your lips as you decide on what to do. And when you finally do, it’s now or never.

With a gulp, you bring the tip of his cock to your lips, and the man sharply gasps at the wet sensation of your tongue on his glans. The precum leaves a salty aftertaste on your tastebuds, proving that this is happening: you’re giving your vampiric boyfriend a blowjob right now. Deciding to take things to the next level, you intake more of his inches as much as you can. Not the whole thing because you know you’d probably choke, so you take your time inhaling his length at a comfortable pace and manner. And once you bob your head, the hisses and groans from Choso should give you an idea that he’s feeling elated.

“Haahh…Mmmph…Y/n, your mouth feels so good—Oh shit…” He brings a hand down to the top of your head, a sign you can guess that he wants you to keep going. And so you do, speeding up your motions. Your mouth sucks and teases the underside of his dick, your tongue curves and licks around the piercing of his frenulum, and he jerks when you slowly teasingly lick from the base to the tip. You bring your hand to the rest of the inches you couldn’t cover, your pretty fingers sliding up and down his dick while your free hand comes to his balls for you to massage. The sudden contact of your hands wasn’t expected, his body jolting to the sensations of your tongue and fingers around him, kneading his scrotum as you playfully lick on his cockhead. “—Khhh, ohhhh, fuck…Y/n, baby, I’m—Ahahhh!!”

From the sound of it, he was bound to release his load. So you prepare and bring the tip back into your warm mouth, urging the man to climax. With a few more pumps from your hands coinciding with the laps and sucks of your plump lips, he ruts his groin to your face as his essence spreads inside your oral cavity. And you take it like a champ, sucking every pump to your throat, not letting the tip go until he finished. So, once his body calms down, you release him, wiping off the trail of saliva from your mouth.

Yet it doesn’t stop there; of course, it doesn’t.  Because Choso’s cock is very much still sprung and active from your blowjob, meaning it’s inevitable that you’re going to move on to the next phase. And judging by the sheer length of this thing, you have no idea how that shit is gonna fit inside of you. Damn, vampire dick sure is something…

“Y/n?” You snap back from your thoughts when Choso calls out to you, noticing you gawking at his size. “You don’t have to do the rest if you don’t want, baby. I can take care of it.”He’s so sweet looking out for you as he’s aware that you’re a little worried. 

But you surprise him when you exit off the bed for a quick second, removing your leggings and underwear for the carpet to keep for you. The same thing goes for your matching bra. And as you crawl back to bed, his wide eyes never leave your lower figure, watching you lie on your back with your head on a pillow and your legs spread wide. “As long as you take the lead, I’ll be fine, Chocho.”

It’s his turn to gulp and ease his dry throat before getting on his knees and positioning himself between your legs, dark brown orbs intaking every detail of your cunt that’s exposed for him. You chew on your lip, “It’s embarrassing if you stare so hard at it, ya know…”

“S-Sorry,” He apologizes while getting back to the task. He grabs ahold of his length and aligns the tip to your wet entrance, and your breath hitches at the contact. “I’ll go real slow, okay?”You give a couple of honest nods for confirmation, and he watches your breathing. When he notes your inhales and exhales, he pushes into your folds. With every inhale you take, he nudges further into you. The pain gets bitter and bitter by the second, and your hands grip the sheets beneath you. “Relax for me, angel, relax.” He comes down to whisper those words to ear; swear to God, you could’ve moaned right there and then. However, you switch your focus to following his advice, reminding your body to stop resisting the unfamiliar limb making entry. The pain is still present, but you count your breaths to distract your mind until the tip finally makes it in, a sharp gasp sneaking past you and a hiss from Choso when you involuntarily grasp around him while he pushes more of him inside.  

However, he doesn’t move right away, giving you as much time as you need to catch a steady pattern to breathe along with. Your head already feels too hot, and your chest feels too tight to breathe. You peer down to find that he is only halfway in, and there’s no amount of words to describe the disbelief you’re experiencing at this moment. “I feel…so full already…” You nearly choke on your words. You can practically feel his piercing scrape your insides.

“I know, princess,” he comforted you with a kiss on the forehead while lifting your shirt, your chest meeting his cold, slender fingers that massaged your mounds. All the while, he pushes his cock further into your chasm, and your breathing goes shaky as you try and take every inch of him. Then all of a sudden, your body jolts upward when you feel the tip of his cock hit your cervix; you can only guess now that everything’s entirely inside you. Oh yeah, vampire dick is most definitely something else. Tears start to water your eyes, and your hands come around Chos’s neck, the coldness of his nape piercing greeting your skin. “—Mmmm, fuckin’ Christ…I’m gonna go start moving now, Y/n.”

You appreciate the warning because, with the way his hips start to create a motion to and fro from your entrance, it’s surreal that his shaft is churning your inner wall with minimal effort. Shivers crawl up your spine every time the base meets your southern lips, grazes to your most tender spots result in you chewing on your bottom lip, and God, the occasional jab to your cervix is something you’ll have to get used to. He sucks on one nipple while the other hand tends to the other, the laps of his tongue on the bud of your breast feel so good, and you gasp when his fangs lightly graze it. So exhilaratingly dangerous. 

“Choso—Ohhhh…” you coo, your head thrown back when he tweezes your nipple simultaneously with the jab to your cervix. The pace of his thrusts increases a tad, and your voice becomes more vocal than before, filling his bedroom with your breathy whimpers. “So big, you’re so big for me—Ohooo!”

“—Mmfhh!! Fuck, you feel so good for me, princess…Shiiiit—” The way your cunt wraps around him so tightly causes him to rut into you harder and faster, evoking spine-chilling whines from your puffy, bitten lips. Your disheveled figure squirms on the sheets, holding onto Choso for dear life as he churns your tummy insides. Your fragrance attacks his nose when he kisses your neck, nibbling the skin to listen to your cute gasps more. Then, the urge rises. He opens his mouth for his fangs to scrape your neck.

“Ahahhnn!! Ch–Chosooo!!” 

Your voice halts his unconscious, realizing what he was about to do and quickly withdrawing his teeth from your neck. No, not now… He thinks to himself, moving his fangs to your shoulder instead. The bite elicits a sharp shriek from your unbeknownst self. Your nails dig into his shoulders, the pain motivating him to explore more of your body with your mouth. 

You can feel his kisses trail down your collarbone and breast, sucking on your nipples once more before leaving a tiny bite. You clamp around his girth as a response, which jabs into your cervix repeatedly with precision. More kisses and licks later, and he leaves a bite mark by your collarbone, sucking on the spot to taste more of your sweet blood. Your mind goes dizzy with the constant of his lips and teeth, and the commotion down south has you wrap your legs around him, caging him in as your climax is soon to come.

“—Nnaahh! Ahaahhnn!! Oh, God, Ohmyfuckin’Go—Hhmmff!!” Choso leads a hand down to your clitoris, and you see stars in no time. “Chosooo!! Yer handsss, you’re gonna make me cummm!! Ooooh, shhahhh!!”

Choso listens to your pleas with attentive ears, his fingers swiping rampantly on your clit. Your choked sobs are so beautiful to hear. The way your walls grasp around his length entails you’re about to come on him any second now. “Go on, my angel. Ring me out—Hnnghh!! So fuckin’ tight…”

Erratic ruts to your sloppy cunt cause wet noises to fill your eardrums, and the heat in your face is unbearable while your head pounds harshly. With the swipes on your clit and him grinding his cock to your tender spot, it’s apparent that you two come concurrently. He fills your cunt with his anticipated load while your velvety walls contract around him euphorically, and exchanged pants fill the space between your sweaty bodies. 

The two of you experience shocks of your own as your heaving bodies rest on each other, Choso nuzzling his face to your neck as his hand softly massages your breast. Your body calms down, gradually exiting your blissful haze. But it tenses again when you feel another sharp pain in your shoulder, and you snicker while pulling his ear to tease. 

“Let you have a taste, now you’re already hooked, huh…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Choso uses a washcloth to dab on the bite marks around your body, gently pressing down on it and wiping off any blood that leaves your newly added markings. The warm cloth feels good on your cold skin — as if the stinging sensation subsides in seconds. 

“You know,” You hum along as he takes care of your body. “I didn’t think you’d be that much of a biter.”

“Sorry,” he moves to your front, dabbing the teeth marks on your breasts and shoulders. You can see the hint of pink that flushes his cheeks and ears. “Got a little carried away…”

You giggle. “No need to apologize, Chocho.” The nickname has him blush harder. He’s so cute when he’s flustered. “Just goes to show that you were enjoying the moment.”

His hands suddenly stop moving, the washcloth now around your wrist. “…Did you?” Caramel eyes dare to peek at yours. “Did you enjoy it?”

You could tell that the question carried a deep-rooted meaning. Not only was this the first time you and Choso had sex, but it was also within the same day you found out he was a vampire. If you were in his shoes, you could guess he’d probably think you didn’t like the experience or found it heavily discomforting. Yet that wasn’t the case at all. So, you have to communicate that to him. 

With a warm smile, you let him know, “Yes, I did. I had a great time.” Before you can say more, a random thought prompts you to ask a question. “Hey, I felt you were about to bite my neck, but you didn’t.”

 “Hmm? Oh, umm, yeah, I did. The only way for someone to become a vampire is by biting the neck,” He confirms, his gaze drifting down to your wrist as he uses the wet cloth to dab on the mark. “But I don’t want you becoming one now. At least, not without you telling me.”

“Wait, you don't want me to be a vampire?”

“I mean, that’s up to you, honestly. As much as I love you and would love the idea of spending my life with you, that’s only my selfish wish at the end of the day. The choice should be yours to make, not mine.”

You remove your hand from his hold and place it on his cold cheek. The other hand comes up to cup the other, provoking your boyfriend to look directly at you. 

“You’re so sweet, you know that?” You have never seen his face change into a flash of pink so quickly; it makes you giggle at him. “Chocho, I appreciate you telling me the truth about yourself. I’m sure it’s been hard on you to carry this burden of pretending to be something you’re not, especially with me. So, again, thank you…However, I can’t really see myself as a vampire, at least right now. My life seems to be at a good place right now, and I want to experience it first-hand, ya know. With you by my side.”

You know Choso is listening to you word-for-word; his brown eyes never leaving your face is evidence of such. So you continue: “So, until then, let me be human for a while longer. When the time is right, I’ll let you know. Sounds good?”

The brown-haired man gives you a smile before answering, resulting in yours broadening. “I’m cool with that.”

You nod. “Cool.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…You want more of my blood, huh.”

“…..I’m sorry,” you laugh at his awkwardness. “You just smell so good. And you taste sweet…”

“In that case,” you withdraw your hands from his cheek and extend an arm out for him. “Have one last taste.”

There’s hesitance when his hand grabs ahold of your wrist. But when he knows you’re complying and on board with this, Choso brings your wrist to his lips, his fangs pierce down on your skin, and he sucks your blood. The pain this time around wasn’t too excruciating. Maybe with all the bites you have on your body right now, you came around and got used to it. 

And who knows? Perhaps you’ll grow to love the sensation soon enough.

“Yo! I’m back!” The two of you freeze. A familiar voice from the other side of the hallway brings you back to the present moment. You then remember that Yuuji promised to return from the store and pizza place. And seeing as though time has passed enough for him to be done, the warmth of your body shifts to a disturbing shiver when the bedroom door opens up. “I got the pizzas and left them on top of the oven—“

The salmon-haired other stopped mid-sentence when his eyesight landed in your direction. You can only imagine what’s going through his mind when he looks at you and Choso because that was the same experience you went through a few hours back.

Yuuji looks at the two of you on top of the bed. Clothes decorating the carpeted floor, both your bodies free and nude, your tits out for him to see crystal clear. One of your hands holds a washcloth that harbors red, bloody stains. The other hand stretched out towards Choso’s mouth, where the younger notices fangs withdrew from your wrist. The newly drawn blood from your new mark connects to the sharp teeth of his older brother.

Thirty seconds go by where no one says anything, just three pairs of eyes and figures falling victim to the discomfiting silence of this situation. Until Yuuji starts to uncomfortably laugh at the sight before him for a few seconds. And then suddenly, he stops, and his balance gives way for his body to meet with the floor beneath him.

He fainted.

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[fangdokja]

A Heart Devoured (AHD) : A Dark Yandere Anthology

Step into a world of dangerous devotion and forbidden desires. A Heart Devoured is a collection of hauntingly seductive one-shots and imagines, each exploring the intoxicating grip of male yanderes. From possessive protectors to manipulative masterminds, these stories dive deep into the dark allure of obsession, blending romance, horror, and suspense.

Whether you crave a lover who would burn the world for you—or one who would chain you to it—this anthology delivers raw passion and chilling intensity that will leave you breathless and craving more.

You are their everything. Escape, if you dare.

Warning: These husbands take "forever" seriously.

────────────

Note: Want to make a LONG request for original yanderes (OC's)? Read the Rules and Regulations, first, before requesting. Failure to abide by the rules will have your request ignored and deleted.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ ⭐. Author's Personal Favorites. ♡ 🔞. NSFW / extremely explicit themes (non-con, sexual torture, dangerous edge play, degradation, humiliation, BDSM, etc.)

♡ Schedule. The following stories are released or scheduled for release:

Table of Contents

Yandere! Alpha! Wolf Hybrid & Little Omega

Drabbles

“You look prettier when you cry.”

“Do you know what I love most about you?”

“You don’t get to decide anymore,”

“And treasures don’t get to escape.”

“You’re waiting for someone to come for you, aren’t you?”

“Cry for me,”

“But don’t worry, darling. I’ll fill it with something better. Me.”

“You’ll only ever have one choice with me,”

Novelette 1 : Marked and Mated

🔞Run all you want, little omega—I love the chase.

Yandere! Chief of Police & Dollface

Headcanons

The sirens wailed, but no one was coming for you—they were his, just like you are now.

Yandere! College! Bully & Loser

Details: MBTI - INFJ ; Enneagram - 8w7

Oneshots

The worst part? You’ve stopped trying to fight it.

Novella 1 : Torn Between Us

In a world where no one cares, he’s the one who notices you… and that’s frightening.

Trust no one. Not even yourself.

🔞Part 3

🔞Part 4

Yandere! Criminal Prosecutor & Pet

Drabbles

“Soon, you won’t even remember what freedom tasted like.”

"Kneel. Now."

Oneshots

“This isn’t an interrogation. It’s a love story—you just don’t know it yet.”

Yandere! Divorce Attorney & Church Girl

Headcanons

In his world, love isn’t a choice—it’s a life sentence.

Novella 1 : Skin of the Saint

He didn’t believe in love, but she made him question everything.

She was everything he despised, and yet he kept returning.

She lived for her God; he lived to see her fall.

⭐He couldn’t touch her purity, but he could burn everything around her.

He wasn’t your savior, but he would break you like a sinner.

His love was a sin, but sins could be absolved—couldn’t they?

A stolen kiss, a forged marriage, and a choice that would ruin more than just your life.

🔞He kissed her like a punishment, touched her like a prayer.

Novelette 2 : Angels Cry, Devils Burn

Angels Cry, Devils Burn 1

Yandere! Emperor & Little Dove

Details: MBTI - ENFJ ; Enneagram - 8w7

Drabbles

“Do you know why I haven’t kissed you yet?”

“Do you like it?”

Headcanons

"I burned their world for daring to look at you—imagine what I’d do if you tried to leave."

Yandere! Ex-Boyfriend & Cheating Bitch

Details: MBTI - ENTP ; Enneagram - 7w8

Drabbles

“You disobeyed me. Again.”

“Miss me?”

“Pray I don’t snap. Because if I do, you won’t survive it.”

Novella 1 : Friction & Fire

She wasn't looking for love, but love wasn't asking for permission.

Some truths are better left buried.

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Yandere! FBI Agent & Sweets

Oneshots

He knows your favorite color, your childhood fears, and how you’ll look in a coffin.

Yandere! Hitman & любимая {darling}

Oneshots

“You should’ve pulled the trigger when you had the chance.”

Yandere! Hockey Captain & Ice Princess

Oneshots

You skate for freedom, but he’s about to make you his trophy.

Yandere! Isekai! Knight & Little Mouse

Details: MBTI - ENTJ; Enneagram - 8w7

Headcanons

What happens when a hero's love turns into an obsession that even he can't control?

Oneshots

In his eyes, your defiance isn’t strength—it’s foreplay.

Yandere! Marine Corps & Good Girl

Details: MBTI - ISTP ; Enneagram - 6w5

Oneshots

He crushed a man’s skull beneath his boot and turned to you with a smile.

"You’ll never escape me—not when I’m the only one keeping you alive."

Yandere! Nerd & Little Sugar

Details: MBTI - INTJ ; Enneagram - 6w5

Drabbles

“You think this is a game?”

Oneshots

No one else noticed the quiet boy in the corner, but he’s all you’ll notice now.

Yandere! Owner (?) & ???

Oneshots

Sold to the highest bidder—your nightmare begins now.

Yandere! Painter & ???

Drabbles

"You like testing me, don’t you?"

Yandere! Prison Warden & Fuckin' Filth

Oneshots

In this prison, there are no rules—except for his.

The rules are simple: obey, or suffer. And you’ve already broken every single one.

Yandere! Professional Gambler & Doll

Headcanons

He’s the last bet you’ll ever make—and the one you’ll never walk away from.

Yandere! Reverse Harem & Rape Slave

Novella 1 : Killer Charm

🔞Killer Charm 1

🔞Killer Charm 2

🔞Killer Charm 3

🔞Killer Charm 4

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss & Wife

Details: MBTI - ENTJ ; Enneagram - 8w7

Novelette 1 : The Enemy In His Bed

⭐️🔞"I trusted you, wife, and now I'll teach you what betrayal feels like."

Yandere! Spanish Pirate Captain & Mi Tesoro {treasure}

Novelette 1 : El Capitán's Tesoro

🔞When the Capitán says you're his treasure, he means it—he’ll spill blood, even yours, to keep it.

Yandere! Stalker & ???

Oneshots

The man in your apartment knows you better than you know yourself.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy & Sugar Baby (?)

Drabbles

“You didn’t think I’d let you leave after the vows, did you?”

“What the fuck was that?”

Headcanons

⭐You’ve never feared a kiss before, but his feels like a loaded gun.

Novella 1 : Bye, Bye, Bye

In his world, sugar babies don’t get to keep secrets.

He gave you everything, but all you gave him was distance—and it was driving him mad.

The rules were clear: no emotions, no questions, no attachments—until he broke every single one.

Jealousy is a fire, and he’ll burn anyone who gets too close.

🔞He’s not just your sugar daddy—he’s a sadistic master who won’t let you go.

When devotion turns to madness, no one is safe—not even the one he loves.

Novella 2 : Money, Money, Money

Money, Money, Money 1

Yandere! Vigilante & Sweetheart

Headcanons

"I’ll burn the world if it means keeping you warm in the ashes."

He’d rather destroy you than let someone else touch you—because if you’re not his, you’re nothing.

Oneshots

He’s the savior of many—but your destruction is his true mission.

Yandere! Volleyball Captain & Babe

Oneshots

“They all warned you about me, didn’t they? But you just couldn’t stay away.”

Yandere! Zombie Apocalypse! Survivor & Little Prey

Details: MBTI - ISTP; Enneagram - 8w7

Drabbles

“No, I’d rather keep you. Watch you squirm. Hear you beg.”

Oneshots

⭐️In the world of the dead, he was the only thing keeping you alive—and tearing you apart.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on this post. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “A Heart Devoured”: @definetlythinkimanalien , @floooring , @lilyalone , @theogborjie , @ne7zach , @songbirdgardensworld , @imnotabot28 , @ncsltgic , @aishiyaa

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

[songbirdseung]

new year puppy / sim jaeyun

what's the worst that's going to happen when you get yourself a puppy to start the new year's?

him staring down at the small pomeranian puppy with glaring eyes was the last reaction you expected from your boyfriend, who loved dogs so much.

"jake, what in the world did that puppy ever do to you?" you asked, picking up the puppy and cradling it gently in your arms. the little fluffball nuzzled into you, tail wagging happily, while jake pouted at you before shifting his glare back to the puppy.

"stole my girlfriend away from me," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest like a child denied their favorite toy.

you blinked, trying to hold back a laugh. "stole me away? jake, he's a puppy. what is he going to do? whisk me off to some romantic getaway?"

"he doesn’t have to," jake grumbled, now squatting down to be on eye level with the puppy. "look at him, all cute and fluffy, wagging his tail like he owns the place. you’ve been giving him all the attention since he got here."

"oh my god, you’re jealous of a puppy," you said, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. the laugh you’d been holding back burst out, and you clutched the puppy closer as if to shield it from jake’s imaginary wrath.

"i am not jealous," he insisted, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. "i just think it’s unfair. i used to be the one you called cute and gave all your cuddles to. now, this little guy gets all of that without even trying."

the puppy barked once, as if to agree with jake’s sentiment, and you laughed even harder.

"jake, you’re ridiculous," you teased, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "you know you’ll always be my favorite, right?"

"doesn’t feel like it," he mumbled, though he couldn’t keep the pout on his face for long when you placed the puppy in his lap. the tiny pomeranian immediately climbed up his chest, sniffing his face before licking his nose.

"see? he likes you," you pointed out, smiling as jake’s expression softened.

"yeah, well," jake said, pretending to be gruff as he scratched behind the puppy’s ears, "he better know his place."

you rolled your eyes, sitting beside him on the floor. "and what place is that?"

"second," jake said smugly, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and pulling you close while the other kept petting the puppy. "because I’ll always be first."

"you’re unbelievable," you muttered, though the smile on your face betrayed your amusement.

"and yet you love me," he shot back, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your temple.

the puppy barked again, and jake glanced down, narrowing his eyes playfully. "see? even he knows I’m right."

you shook your head, laughing softly. "you’re lucky you’re cute, sim jake."

"oh, I know," he replied with a wink, finally letting his guard down as the puppy snuggled into his lap. "but not as cute as this guy, huh?"

"mm, debatable," you teased, earning a dramatic gasp from jake.

"betrayed by my own girlfriend and a puppy. unbelievable."

[yuwuta]

f2l with katsuki but there’s nobody who rides harder for you two being a couple than izuku and not even in a weird pining threeway kind of way. just genuinely, from the bottom of his heart, he’s always believed you two should be together. he’s always watched you two growing up, he’s always chased after you two, he’s always seen the way you both lean into each other and still find space to pull him up too. he thinks you and katsuki deserve each other, he knows you two are meant for each other. it’s excruciating for izuku to watch you two not realize it for so long, heartbreaking to watch kacchan figure it out but not say anything, and the worst pain of all is watching you date other people because you’re too stubborn to realize your soulmate is has been right next to you your entire life. it’s exhausting, and izuku is bitter about it.

and petty. whenever you mention you have a date, his response is always “is it with kacchan?” “huh? no, it’s—” “that’s too bad then.” he pretends not to remember any of your boyfriends’ names and somewhere along the way he just stops pretending and really doesn’t care to learn them. he’s sweet and all smiles with everyone else, but the second someone other than katsuki is interested in you, there’s a straight frown on his lips. he’s out for drinks with katsuki and he’s noticed some guys eyeing him from across the restaurant, so izuku goes to greet them while katsuki is in the bathroom, all bright smiles and hero facade beaming as he signs the shorter one’s baseball cap with a sigh, “kacchan is handsome, right? you should see his girl, she’s stunning too,” capping the sharpie and any potential plans for flirting for the evening. he’s spent many nights gossiping with mitsuki and inko about you two, crying about how seeing you two dating other people is harder than any other mission he’s ever been sent on.

sometimes izuku just wants to shove the two of you in a locker and keep you in there until you decide to be together. he spends so much time with his chin in his palm, sighing with such yearning for a relationship that isn’t even his own. his eyes are soft right now, watching you and katsuki in the communal kitchen of the agency. there’s a slight glare shining through the glass walls, but he can see your smiles bright as day. you lean with your back to the counter, stirring your tea mindlessly as katsuki faces you, arms crossed but posture relaxed, no doubt saying something to rile you up judging by the slick grin on his face. you’re much shorter than him, but izuku remembers the days when you were taller than both of them back in second grade; he thinks the height difference panned out nicely. kacchan could lean down and kiss you right now, izuku wishes he would. a soft smile paints izuku’s face—they only keep that tea in the cabinets for the days you decide to visit, and katsuki only teases to hear your sharp tongue counter him. he must be in a particularly good mood today—or maybe, he’s happy because you’ve visited—judging by the way he throws his head back with a hearty cackle after you’ve said something to him. that’s good, hopefully you’ll keep his spirits up when they leave for patrol later. izuku gets so caught up in his daydreaming that he’s startled when there’s a knocking on the glass, and now you’re next to it smiling at his startled face and waving to him. he looks at you, then back to katsuki, who’s shadowed you to the glass wall, hovering protectively like he always has. izuku shakes his head in disbelief, but waves back. he finds the glass fitting, a window he’s looking into. he just hopes the scene changes to something more romantic sooner rather than later.

[luveline]

do you have anything more from office frenemies with james? i just read it and i loved it so much

yes! love u ty

—you and James don’t get along until you kind of, sort of do. fem!reader, 1.5k

James listens to the most obnoxious playlist in the mornings. There’s about a fifteen minute window between when he arrives and when the workday officially starts, which coincides exactly with your window. He often gets the same elevator ride, walks a pace beside you, and decides whether he’s going to let the ‘lady’ go first through the door depending on the day. 

That morning, he’d opened the door widely, grinned at you with music blaring loud enough to make a normal person deaf from his earphones, and let you pass. Then he pretended to stick his foot out to trip you up, pulling it back at the last second. 

Jerk, you think, angry even now as he tucks himself into his desk, his earphones still ridiculously loud. He actually, genuinely, is going to get hearing damage. You’re not being bitter. Human ears aren’t meant for that. 

You click onto the workplace Outlook and open a tab on your desktop. How loudly can you listen to music? you google. A few articles appear straight away that fit your purpose —you drag them each into an empty email. Then, smiling to yourself, you find an article on the negative effects of workplace noise pollution and how this sort of selfishness can affect your coworkers’ mental health and add that at the very top. 

To: jamesp@outlook.wpa.uk 

Hi James, 

please find attached a few articles I felt might be important for you to read.

Worst, 

Your unhappy adjacent desk. 

You know he’s received it when he laughs loudly, turning down his music with a few quick clicks on his phone. 

An email comes through to your inbox shortly after.

Hi bestie, 

I’m so so sorry for the noise. Please find attached a few articles I, in turn, felt you might enjoy. 

Best, 

James Potter :) 

He’s attached an irksome variation of articles. Why music can help you get ready for the day. Ten ways workplace friendships are important. Can you really find your soulmate at work? 

You open your personal messaging system. You tend not to use it with James, but this morning he’s winding you up. 

I could report you to HR for that last one, you send. 

He replies quickly. You try very hard not to look up at him from over your desktop. I didn’t mean me. 

You’ll be deaf by thirty. 

Jealous you don’t have such great taste in music? 

Jealous of everyone in the annex. 

Want a cup of coffee?

You meet his gaze finally over the computer, find him already looking at you. You shake your head scornfully. In what world would you ever want him to make you a coffee? He’s never actually offered to make you one before, to be fair, but he’s awful to you so what are you supposed to think? He’ll probably poison it. 

He stands to leave. Remus, the other accountant to complete your trio, arrives while he’s gone with his boyfriend Sirius in tow. They’re also James’ best friends, unfortunately. It makes for some awkwardness. 

“Where is he?” Remus asks you, in the midst of a quick goodbye kiss before Sirius makes his way to his desk further down the office. 

You nibble your lip and give a dispassionate shrug. You hate talking about James. You hate his stupid mess of hair, his reading glasses, his lips when he smiles crookedly and worse when he’s glaring at you. You hate the way he sighs as he clicks his neck, the quick lap he does every other hour complaining of tired legs, the genuine tenderness he shows you whenever you’re sick. You hate James. You don't like to think about him too much lest you get caught, a fish in a net.

Or a fish with a painful hook in its lip. 

“Ah, you’re here,” James says, two cups of coffee in his hand. 

You’re only a little heartbroken when he puts one on his desk and one on Remus’. Didn’t want one anyways. 

Remus grins as James comes up behind him for a rough hug and hair ruffle. “How was last night?” 

“I wish you’d come. Sirius spent all night trying to out drink Marl, you know he can’t, so I spent all night holding his hair out of his face. I wasn’t gonna talk to him this morning, but he was being very pathetic.” 

James laughs. You pretend you aren’t listening to them, pretend you don’t feel left out even if they have no reason to be your friend, clicking at random things on your screen and scrolling through spreadsheets long finished and filed. “You know I couldn’t come, Moony,” —no point starting on their awful nicknames— “what if she needed me?” 

You still. She? 

“James, there’s not much you can do,” Remus says gently. He’s a quiet, soft sort of man, but they’re all so loud about loving one another. “You have to let her… you know.” 

You feel them both looking at you, your gaze steadfast on your screen. 

“Try not to think about it,” Remus says. 

“I’ve been distracting myself,” James agrees. 

Oh, you think. Oh. I’m such a dick. 

“You could go home?” Remus says, putting his face in his hand. “I could cover you.” 

“It’s too much work.” 

“I know, but, you know, I’ll do half, and you’ll only have half to catch up on when you come back.” 

You’re not sure who she is, and you very much still don’t like James Potter, but you're not heartless. He sounds awfully upset, fragility to his voice and a foreign balling of his fist by his hip. “Um,” you say, clearing your throat weakly, “well, with me and Remus, we could cover for you.” 

James’ face is unreadable, looking down at you. “You’d cover for me?” he asks. 

“Your work isn’t exactly hard, James.” 

“But you’d do it?” 

“How long will you be off for?” 

James frowns. “Like, two days?” he says quietly. 

“That’s fine. We can do that,” you say, checking with Remus from around James hip. “Yeah?” 

“Of course,” Remus says quickly. 

James looks at you long and hard. “You’re not kidding?” 

“No, James. Not kidding. You’d do the same for me, right?” 

James leans down to hug you before you can stop him. His arms wrap around your shoulders, a perfectly amicable touch made up of sleeper muscle and the attractive smell of almond oil, nearly sweet, slightly woody. He laughs against your cheek as he pulls away, turning back to Remus for a similar hug. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Danny right now.” He beams at you. His relief is thick as honey, palpable in his warm tone. “Thank you.” 

You can’t look at him very long. 

The memory of his fingers linger, the weight of his arm behind your head. He excuses himself to go talk to your boss, and you and Remus sit in a semi-awkward silence, of which you’re wholly responsible. 

“His cat is dying,” Remus says eventually.

You wince. “Oh, no, really?” you ask. 

“He’s had her since we were kids. It’s really nice of you to do this.”

“I really do think he’d do it for me,” you interrupt. “I’m not, you know, cruel, because we don’t get on.” 

“I know. James knows that too.” 

You want to get defensive. Why does it matter if James knows? But Remus is too nice to argue with, and secretly, strangely, you’d wanted James to know you aren’t mean. You wouldn’t have sent him that email this morning if you’d known, and maybe this is apology enough for that. 

Still, it doesn’t feel right when James returns, gathering his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Thank you guys, so much. I will bring you the most amazing desserts of all time as a thank you. I won’t even put your mug on the top shelf the next time I wash it,” James promises you. 

You bat aside the rage of knowing he’s the culprit and instead get out of your seat before he can leave. “Uh, James?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. ���Yeah?” 

You look at the floor by his shoes. “About earlier…”

James stands subtly between you and the bulk of the office. “You okay?” 

“I just– I’m sorry for complaining about your earphones. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.” 

“You weren’t insensitive,” he says, “I was being obnoxious. Don’t worry about it, okay?” 

“I–” You hate yourself for all your stammering. “Hope whatever is wrong, that you’re okay. I’ll cover for you for the week if you need me to.” 

“Please stop feeling sorry for me. It looks weird on you. I much prefer you when you’re frowning, you get these super deep wrinkles in your forehead that I just love.” 

You turn away without looking up. “I’m gonna input all your sales information wrong.” 

“And I’m gonna bring you the best donut you’ve ever tasted to say thanks, sweetheart.” 

[trustmypoison]

Protective SVT

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Please do SVT reaction when SVT and Y/N are in a date (can be Non-Idol or Idol) and some creep are keep looking at Y/N’s Thigh. It’s okay if you are uncomfy to do it :) ‘

Mitigates any of these opportunities for creeps to really get a peek - Joshua, Minghao, Chan

He’s taking off his jacket to put across your lap as soon as you sit down. Or he’s standing behind you in a crowd so no one can sneak up on you. Things like that are genuinely just habits. But if he spots this person, he’s just straight up blocking this person’s view of you, putting himself in between the two of you. He does all of this so discreetly that you don’t even notice why he’s done any of that half the time. It just feels gentlemanly and makes you feel safe without even realizing there is a threat to your comfort. 

Can and will fight - Seungcheol, Woozi, Mingyu

Never wants you to be put in a position like this, but if you ever are, he’s itching for a fight. Really has no problem approaching this person and asking why they’re leering at you like that. Will have a ‘that’s what I thought’ sort of attitude if the person turns out to be a coward and backs down at the first sign of an angry boyfriend. But if they’re bold and say something out of pocket, someone might just have to break up a fight. Even if you ask him not to start swinging on everyone who wrongs you, it will go in one ear and out the other because it’s just second nature to him. 

Passive aggressively making sure the creep knows you’re taken - Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Seungkwan

Acutely aware of when someone like that is around, and it sort of brings out a possessive streak, and he doubles down on the touchiness. He’s putting his hand on your thigh and keeping it there. Or his arm is around your shoulder, pulling you close. Or he’s got his arm fully wrapped around your waist. It’s a clear sign to this guy that says, ‘don’t even bother’. But he hopes it helps you too because worst case scenario, if you notice this creep, you know he’s got your back. Best case scenario, you don’t even notice because he’s too busy being wrapped around you and keeping you distracted. 

Just removes you from the situation - Hoshi, DK

Will not let you stay there and squirm uncomfortably. Don’t get me wrong, they’ll resort to the previous three options if you really can’t leave. But truly, there are very few things he can’t think of an excuse to get out of. So he’s just saying, ‘Why don’t we go home?’ Most of the time, you’ll leap at the opportunity, but if you hesitate, he’s pulling you close to whisper to you and delicately remind you that you have no obligation to stick it out if you’re uncomfortable. 

Might not know what to do with this - Jun, Vernon

Might not really know what the proper response to this is. He doesn’t necessarily spot these things before they become a problem, and once they do become a problem, he’s not always sold on the decision to be confrontational or passive-aggressive or to just leave. So he’ll pull you close and ask you what you want to do and how he can help. Any of the four options is something he can do, but this feels like uncharted territory to him in a lot of ways, and the ultimate goal is just to make you comfortable again. 

[wriokitty]

Dating Sukuna who’s the freshly-out-of-jail, gruff, mostly-rude asshole on the block—he can hardly keep a job and everywhere you see him, he’s smoking or has a beer bottle in his hand and he’s just. He’s so beyond everyone’s comprehension of why the hell you’re dating this lunatic. Everyone thinks it’s a phase—your old boyfriends never lasted too long, you have a bit of a track record for picking up the jerks, and this one seems like he’s the worst one so it only makes sense that soon enough, you’ll be giving the teary-eyed confession that you’re single again.

Except it never happens. It just keeps turning into week after month after year. And you’re still going strong. Everyone’s borderline in despair about it too—your parents, your siblings, your friends, your distant aunt and uncle, even. They just don’t understand why anyone would stay so long with this harsh, rough man with no soft corners.

Until they watch him tsk and gently grab your wrist as you go to walk out the door, grumbling a quiet, you’re not leaving that door until you put your jacket on, it’s cold—I’m not taking care of you if you get sick. Or watch him sigh and roll his eyes exasperatedly as you look over at his plate and slowly (not so sneakily) try to steal a bite while he grunts, I told you I wouldn’t be sharing if you like my order better, all while he begrudgingly shares. And sometimes, if they’re lucky, they’ll catch that very rare, yet very entranced smile of his that he does when you laugh, love written between every crease in his permanently furrowed brows.

It’s a bit ironic, really—the best man you ever dated comes shipped with enough baggage that you should run. But you stay. You put in enough elbow grease to soften up those sharp corners, and you’ve built a home. Right in those strong, intimidating arms.

[jeonsweetpea]

The Moon Knows Our Secrets (1)

Exes to Lovers!AU | Hybrid!Jungkook x Hybrid!OC | Soulmate!AU

genre: angst, smut, exes to lovers, vampire/werewolf hybrid (emphasis on werewolf), soulmates, forced proximity

rating: explicit

description: He doesn’t remember loving you. How could he, when you’re the one who erased his memories? You run into him a year later at a wedding. The year after that he’s reported missing and you go off to find him. Then you wonder: did he ever forget you?

word count: 9.1k

warnings: blood, blood-drinking, one injury, flirting, TXT is mentioned and they’re horny brats but protective!JK swoops in, ANGST, mentions of compulsion, past deaths, JK smokes for like, one second, fire, resentment, but trust me, they will fall for each other all over again, two-shot 💖

smut warnings: OC goes into HEAT at the worst time, kissing, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, (more intense smut to come in part 2)

a/n: This is an epilogue for my series Moonstruck (inspired by TVD), but it can be read as a STAND-ALONE! You do not have to read Moonstruck (but it will be more satisfying if you have 😉). I love this couple and they deserve their (steamy) happy ending. They both embody the “right person, wrong place.”

Part 1 | Part 2 |

“You’re going to forget the fact you ever loved me. I’m just the girl who had a crush on you and trained with you, nothing more. I want you to live your life freely. If we ever cross paths again, don’t approach me. When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me. You’ll remember then. I love you, Jungkook.”

You first saw him again at a wedding.

When you arrive at the venue, your eyes scan the sea of strangers for him like an automated response. You clutch onto the chain of your purse, the tight squeeze in your chest never seeming to disappear. Once you’re sure of his absence, the tension in your shoulders fades.

Round tables are arranged around a central dance floor, so you sit at the closest one, joining in the crowd’s applause despite not knowing what’s happening. The happy couple is swaying to romantic jazz music played by the live band, their adoring smiles perfectly matched.

“What did I miss?”

Your old classmate chuckles when she notices your presence, using her fingers to count as she lists off her answers. “The ring bearer, flower girl, the da-da-da-da piano introduction, the vows, the kiss, the first dance—so pretty much everything. Surprised to see you here.”

So are you. It took you hours of hyping yourself up before deciding to attend. You never RSVP-ed properly, allocating all your time to getting ready instead. Not that you had anyone to impress, but it’s a wedding. Sweatpants weren’t going to cut it.

“Can everyone please have a seat? We’re going to hear the best man give his speech!” That authoritative voice belonged to Kim Namjoon, the headmaster of BTSU (Be The Supernatural University). His dimple smile emerges when he notices you and he waves excitedly, dropping the microphone in the process. 

You giggle. “See? I didn’t miss everything, Lia.”

She hands you a glass of champagne, then clinks the glass against your own. “Okay, Ms. Fashionably Late. At least you look hot.”

The guests take their seats while the couple sits at the head table near the dance floor. There’s a small stage next to them and on it is a microphone stand under a beautifully decorated archway. A blanket of silence washes over the crowd as anticipation rises, but the best man is nowhere to be found. Murmurs spread quickly as heads turn in confusion.

“I’m here, I’m here!”

You don’t have to look to know who that voice belonged to. The glass in your hand trembles, on the brink of shattering under your tightening grip. Your mouth parts open in shock, your heart rate beating so loudly that it rings in your ears, drowning out the noise of the crowd’s applause as the so-called best man gets on stage. 

Jeon Jungkook — your ex-boyfriend.

Could you even call him your ex? Your history was, in a word, complicated. Boyfriend and girlfriend weren’t labels you two were fortunate enough to share. Bound by trauma, forced into despair, crippled with pain — the “relationship” in question was toxic. 

“You’re going to forget the fact you ever loved me…”

A hybrid had many advantages — compulsion included. With one look, you ordered him to forget having loved you and then left. Traveling the world healed you and the thought of returning to your college campus never once crossed your mind until a year later.

Your old professor sent you a text — a wedding invitation to be specific. Though the gesture was sweet, you preferred staying blissfully ignorant. You almost deleted it. However, F.O.M.O was a crippling feeling, so you ultimately gave in. 

You were aware the chances of running into Jungkook were high, but that’s why you arrived late on purpose. You had let your guard down too easily, assuming he might’ve left early or not bother showing up at all. What a fool. 

The fairy lights strung across the venue illuminate him with a gorgeous golden glow as he steps onto the stage. You hold your breath as the world seems to slow down, taking in his features. 

His hair used to be longer and shaggier; you teased him for having a mop-head back then (lovingly). Now it’s half long, with shaved sides and a slight mullet. He wore a simple white shirt, layered with a classic black blazer and matching dress pants. Several square box chains surrounded his neck, complimenting his silver hoop earrings and lip ring (when did he get that?). His accessories sparkle under the lights, almost blinding, as if he were a living filter. 

Damn. He’s only gotten more gorgeous. 

Jungkook quickly adjusts the microphone stand to his height, then presents a bunny-tooth grin. “Hello everyone! Sorry, I’m late. I had forgotten my script.” He shakes the index cards in his hands gently, causing a ripple of laughter through the crowd. “It’s an honor being both Hoseok and Yoongi’s best man.”

Jung Hoseok was your old classmate, who used to be the alpha of the werewolf pack senior year. But then along came Jungkook, who stole the title from beneath him after challenging him to a duel. Funny how he is now his best man. 

Min Yoongi was the one who invited you, a research assistant at your university. If you had to describe him in a phrase, it’d be: “Actions speak louder than words.” You knew his intentions when he sent the invitation, so you had to come and support him the same way he’s done for you. 

Jungkook peers down at his script before placing a hand on the microphone. 

“I’ve known Yoongi and Hoseok for years now and their love is truly special. They’re often private with their affection, but we know how they would go out of their way for each other. My favorite part is whenever Hoseok compliments Yoongi, he’d—”

“AaarrghhH!!!” The obnoxious scream is from Yoongi himself, who had stood up and faced away from the crowd. People crack up at his hilarity, including Hoseok who is clapping his hands like a seal. 

“Yes. That. Exactly that,” Jungkook says, followed by a soft chuckle. “The two play off each other well. Hoseok brings joy to everyone and it’s infectious. I’ve never seen Yoongi happier than when he’s with Hoseok.”

Yoongi rubs the nape of his neck, a shy smile gracing his features as he sits back down. Hoseok places his head on his partner’s shoulders, sighing in content. Jungkook flips to the next index card and clears his throat.

“Yoongi and Hoseok are people I like from the bottom of my heart. They’re like family, and I’m so glad to be a part of their story. We were able to come to where we are right now because everybody was all together.” His lips tremble slightly as he holds the corners of the card with both hands, tears slowly welling up in his eyes. His head hangs low for a moment but then he looks up, forcing a smile on his face. “Sorry, I’m getting emotional.”

You almost shout it’s okay! but nothing comes out. Fortunately, a couple of folks blurt out comforting words that make him laugh as he quickly wipes his tears away. He rolls his shoulders back and blows a small raspberry with his lips to reset. 

“These two have both helped me through so much. When I almost lost my life. When I lost my friends. When I wanted to give up on myself,” His eyes scanned across the venue as if simulating eye contact with each guest. “And especially when I experienced the biggest absence of my life with…”

His words are cut short at the same time your breath hitches. It’s a split second, but you’re sure. You’re sure his gaze fell on you, his expression stiffening slightly while you let out a silent gasp. The world seems to be at a standstill until he crumples the cards in his hand and tosses them aside. He lets out a half-hearted laugh, gesturing to the large projector screen he prepared earlier. 

“Enough about me!” he exclaims. “I made a compilation of the couple’s best moments. Enjoy!”

You don’t pay attention to the video playing despite the roaring laughter from the crowd. Someone shouts something about the couple wearing colorful animal sheet masks, but your eyes are glued to Jungkook. He exits the stage, heading back to his group of friends at the table furthest from yours. They give him a pat on the back and he’s back to smiling as if nothing happened. 

Was it your imagination? Maybe he wasn’t looking at you. You finish your champagne in one gulp, slamming the glass down without meaning to. The sharp sting in your palm makes you realize your actions as you groan, the deep cut across your hand oozing blood. 

“[Y/N], are you okay? Oh my gosh, here.” Lia is quick to grab the cloth napkin, wrapping it around your hand and tying a knot. 

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’ll heal anyway.”

“Still, how did this even happen? What’s got you so tense?”

You say nothing, but she follows your line of sight and purses her lips. “Are you looking at the wolves? Is it Jungkook?”

“No,” you say quickly. “I’m gonna go to the restroom and wash the blood off.”

Before she can interrogate you further, you make a break for it. It was difficult walking in your nude heels, each step feeling like you were sinking deeper into the grass. The fairy lights help you see in the dark as you pass by the greenery of the garden, the flowers being your favorite part. You’d stop to smell them but didn’t want the blood to stain their lovely petals. Your feet finally reach a cobblestone path and you see the restroom building up ahead. 

There’s a handwashing sink outside. Once you turn on the faucet, you unwrap the cloth around your hand and wash the excess blood away. The cut had partially healed already — another perk of hybrid blood — but it still felt nice.

You find yourself lost in thought as the cool water flows onto your hands. You tell yourself there’s no way Jungkook was looking at you. He doesn’t even know you. At least, not in the way he used to. 

“I’m just the girl who had a crush on you and trained with you, nothing more. I want you to live your life freely.”

Ah. Right. You’ve been reduced to a mere stranger now. The depressing reality makes you sigh as you turn off the water. 

That’s when you hear it. Footsteps. Heavy ones that grow louder from behind you. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn around.

Jungkook is approaching you, his stride long and confident. Your brain must have been rewired to put him in slow motion because he’s like a model walking down a runway. You can’t believe your eyes and are torn between running away or staying put. He’s closer now. Your heart skips a beat, the anticipation crushing you. Stay put it is.

“If we ever cross paths again, don’t approach me.”

Yet here he is. Approaching you. Had the compulsion not worked on him? Did he remember you all this time? Well, your answer comes when he walks right by you without sparing a glance as he enters the men’s restroom. You blink a few times, stunned by what took place.

Well, that proves it; the compulsion was still effective. You look at the bloody napkin in your hand, clutching it tightly. 

“What, is he blind? He didn’t even ask if I was okay. This is a huge red flag, literally!” You wave the fabric around like a crazed woman, having half a mind to chuck it across the building. After sulking for a minute, you compose yourself and prepare to head back.

That’s when an unpleasant smell creeps its way into your nose. It’s harsh, like the smell of acetone and burnt wood, and you cough uncontrollably. The acrid fumes are suffocating as you wander around the restrooms for the smell. 

“It’s coming from the men’s side…” you mumble to yourself. 

“When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me.”

Ignore it. It’s not your business. Yet your feet are already stomping inside, where your ex jolts in alarm at your sudden presence. 

“Hey, just because you’re a hybrid doesn’t mean smoking is okay!” The cigarette dangles from his mouth when his lips part in a small “o” shape, seconds from falling. You swipe it from him, drop it on the ground, and crush it under your heel. His doe eyes are larger than before, but your actions render him speechless. “It’s a gross habit and causes bad breath. So… yeah. Don’t smoke. Even if you’re practically immortal it’s not good for you.”

You spin around and close your eyes, cringing at your meddlesome behavior. You should leave before things escalate. 

“Are you okay?” Your eyes flutter open. He must think you’re deranged! “Your hand… is that blood?”

You look down, noticing the cloth in your hand was no longer white, but a deep crimson that seemed to permeate nonstop. 

“Oh, this is nothing. It’ll heal soon.”

He circles and gets in front of you, holding out his hand. “May I take a look?”

Whatever compels you to give your hand to him is a mystery, but you do it. He removes the cloth first, then inspects your palm, concern etched in his features. Blood continues to ooze out of the gash, but all you can focus on is the warmth of his hand enveloping your cold one. It reminds you of holding a hot cup of coffee in the morning except in this case, your cortisol levels are spiking. 

“It’s not good for you, you know,” he says with a soft smile. He directs his gaze from his hand to your own. “Getting cuts on such pretty hands. Who did this to you?”

If you had a brain, you didn’t anymore. You feel it short-circuiting, the hints of protectiveness in his voice setting sirens off in your mind. “No one… I accidentally broke a glass.”

It comes out as a whisper, but he acknowledges your response with a gentle “hmm.”

“This won’t do. It’s not healing fast enough,” His eyes shift up to meet your own. “You’re practically dripping in my hand.”

How can he say such things to you with such a straight face? The double entendre is blatant, but calling him out for it would only expose your impure thoughts.

“Shall I clean you up?” You don’t miss how he says “you” and not “it.” His irises glow a ruby red, matching his blood-shot sclera. Protruding veins appear under his eyes as he opens his mouth wide enough to exhibit his sharp fangs. It’s a hauntingly beautiful sight.

“That’s okay, you don’t—you don’t have to.” 

“Maybe I want to. Besides… I was smoking to curb my cravings. You took that away, so I need something else to satisfy me.”

You gulp. “And you think my blood will do that?”

He flashes you a smirk. “I’d like to find out. If you’ll let me.”

He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember. He can’t remember. Right? 

You agree with a soft “okay” and Jungkook doesn’t hold back. He sticks his tongue out, licking up the blood that overflowed onto his thumb first before following the stream up to your palm. He presses his lips onto the gash and sucks, earning a small gasp from you. This catches his attention, and he stares at you. His pupils are dilated, the primal look in his gaze so enrapturing. 

The pit of your stomach is on fire as he continues feeding from the palm of your hand. His tongue comes out to play, swiping back and forth, leaving no spot untouched. It tickles, but you’re too tense to move a muscle. 

Then he moans. It’s low at first, but then he closes his eyes and does it again. This time it’s more guttural, and he presses harder against you like he was starved.

“Ow,” you say, wincing when his fangs pierce your skin. It coaxes more blood to come out, and he visibly shudders.

“Sorry, I—Fuck,” His breath is uneven as he pants, drunk on your taste. He furrowed his eyebrows like he was mad, fighting against his primal urges to devour you whole. “I’ll be more careful. Please let me finish, please.”

Oh my god. He’s begging you. It’s too adorable to resist. He opens his eyes when you don’t reply, and you quickly give him your consent. His technique, if you can even call it that, grows sloppy as he rushes to clean up the mess he made. It’s like he was embarrassed, which makes your heart grow fonder. 

Once he finishes, his lips come together and make a loud smooching sound. He kisses the spot once again, lovingly, and then pulls away. You’re shocked to see the cut is no longer there. 

“Delicious. Sweet, with a hint of spice.”

You’re flattered by the handsome blood sommelier but retract your hand, hiding it behind your back while clearing your throat. 

“Um… Thank you.” That sounded more lame out loud than in your head, but nothing else seemed appropriate. 

Jungkook rubs the excess blood from the corner of his lips with his thumb. “It was my pleasure.” He sucks it and then releases his thumb with a loud pop.

Discomfort washes over you with how quiet the restroom gets, but you don’t break the silence. Instead, you turn around and head for the exit. 

“You’re [Y/N], right?” Three steps. That’s how far you got. “We were in the same year together.”

You grab onto the chain of your purse again. “Yeah. We were.”

And you leave it at that. 

You walk around to ease the buried feelings threatening to bubble up to the surface. Aside from the reception in the garden, the rest of the campus is quiet. Not a single light is on from the buildings you pass, your heels following the moonlight instead.

You pass the library, the gym, and the fine arts hall, but your steps halt at the girls’ dormitory. Memories flood your mind one by one: decorating your room, staying up late studying for exams, and the time when Jungkook slept over and—no. Shit. Don’t think about a love that’s lost. 

A weighted sigh comes as you sit on the steps, giving your feet a much-deserved break. You hug your knees, tuck your head down, and rest it in your folded arms as if you wanted to hide from the world. Why the hell did you think coming here would be easy?

His touch lingers in your mind as you replay the moment. The way he held your hand, the way he was concerned for your well-being, and the way he fed off your blood was far more intimate than you expected. Then he said your name.

It ignited a yearning you thought you had suppressed.

“I should leave…” you say out loud to no one in particular. 

“And miss the group picture?”

You lift your head slowly like you were caught red-handed committing a heinous crime. You’re greeted by pointed black dress shoes, black dress pants, a white shirt and black blazer, silver necklaces, and soft doe eyes that could melt anyone’s heart. 

“Jungkook…”

His eyes light up, a tinge of rouge dancing across his cheeks as he slips his hands into his pockets. “So you do remember me.”

How could I ever forget? “Well yeah… we were in the same year together.”

He scrunches his nose, amused at your usage of his past words. “That’s it? We were sparring partners, we went on missions together, and I’m pretty sure you saved my life by turning me into a hybrid,” Your jaw falls to the ground while his lips curve into a playful grin. “Ring a bell?”

The logistics of your compulsion weren’t specific as to how much Jungkook would remember. Then again, you didn’t erase his memory of your existence, so it’s natural he would remember some basic things. 

“Wow, you have a good memory. Um… yeah, I guess that covers the extent of our relationship.”

He quirks his eyebrow, sounding far too happy for your liking as he says, “We… have a relationship?”

You put your hands out in a stop motion and shake them in a panic. “No! Not at all. I–I meant that’s all we are to each other. Nothing more, nothing less. Just old classmates.”

“I see. What a shame though. I feel like we would have… should have gotten to know each other more back then.”

His voice has a trace of longing, but you dismiss it for friendly conversation. “Really? I was too focused on my studies anyway. You wouldn’t have liked me.”

He nods. “Considering how you stomped out my cigarette? Yeah, probably not.”

You scoff, a playful glint in your eyes. “Excuse me for looking out for you.”

“Never asked you to, but I’ll admit, I enjoy the attention.” You both laugh and then he extends his hand out to you. “Come on. Let’s go take the group picture together.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m not fond of pictures. Yoongi and Hobi don’t even know I’m here, so it’s not like they’ll notice.”

“I’ll notice,” You stare at him, watching his smile fade and how serious his demeanor becomes. “Your absence is significant, especially to those who care about you. They’ll remember it for the rest of their lives.”

You are about to speak when he adds, “Besides, the formation is off and we need one more person to fill in the gap.”

With a roll of your eyes, you swat his hand away and stand. “Alright, I get it. Let’s go.”

He smiles, puts his hands back in his pockets, and leads the way back. You follow him to the garden where guests are lined up in neat, staggered rows. Most of them have their arms crossed, some tapping their feet anxiously, while the rest have their hands on their hips. Even the main couple in the front row are mouthing words you can’t hear, but the way Yoongi slaps a hand to his forehead makes you aware of his distress.

“Oh!” Hoseok shouts with a jump, pointing his finger in your direction. “They’re here!”

Everyone expresses their relief with a “thank goodness” or “about time” as you and Jungkook make your way over. 

“You found her!” Namjoon says, holding up his hand for a high-five. Jungkook walks by too fast to notice, so you high-five him to ease his embarrassment.

“Wow, is that [Y/N]? You look incredible.” The man next to Namjoon gives you two thumbs up and you smile at the compliment. 

“Jin…” You can’t help but hug him tight and he reciprocates. Kim Seokjin aka Jin was the head witch on campus and counselor. You’ve confided in him for years and seeing him again almost brings tears to your eyes.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough.” Yoongi pats Jin’s back, a signal to release his hold on you. You laugh and then embrace him next, earning an obnoxious groan, but the fond smile on his face shows his true emotions. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. Thank you for inviting me.”

You stop hugging him to see Hoseok with his arms out already, his heart-shaped grin wide.

“Come here~,” You let out an “oof” sound from how tight he squeezes you. “We had no idea you were here! Jungkook convinced the cameraman to wait until he found you.”

You let him go and look over to Jungkook, who clears his throat as he looks off to the side. The apples of his cheeks are rosy, which you find endearing. 

“Here, stand in the front row next to me,” Hoseok says, gesturing to the spot between him and Jungkook. Jungkook takes a large step to the right, allowing enough space for you to squeeze in.

“Alright, now that we finally have everyone here…” the cameraman says out loud, throwing a harsh glare in your direction. You give him a sheepish grin in return. “Everyone needs to scoot over to my left please.”

The crowd obeys, but the cameraman’s displeased frown remains. “Now everyone needs to squeeze closer together.”

There’s some shuffling and you bump into Hoseok after Jungkook’s shoulder bumps into yours. 

“Sorry,” he whispers. You tell him it’s okay.

The cameraman crosses his arms. “Come on, you guys. Act like you like each other! Closer!”

Everyone scooches in again, but Jungkook’s hand brushes against yours. The touch is electrifying, and you forget how to breathe. You can’t process your emotions as the cameraman orders the guests on your side to turn their bodies inwards at an angle. Jungkook exhales and his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You feel your palms start to sweat. 

“Three, two, one, smile!” You put on your most picture-perfect smile, the flash nearly blinding you. “One more! This time do a silly pose!”

You observe what others choose for their pose. Bunny ears are common, heart poses are also popular whether using arms or hands. Some stick their tongues out while others fake a dramatic gasp. You shift in your position when your heels betray you and you stumble backward.

As if on cue, a pair of arms catch you and you’re dipped like you’re in a dance class with Jungkook’s face peering down at you. His sweet cologne wafts into your nostrils, a nice blend of amber and rose. These moments only happen in movies — or so you think — yet he’s a fantasy that somehow becomes your reality. 

The camera shutters and captures your deer-in-the-headlights expression and Jungkook’s, who mirrors after you. It makes the cameraman let out a hearty laugh, and he’s not sure who the real married couple is.

“Are you okay?”

You nod and he helps you regain stability. Your hand touches your face, feeling the heat radiating off your cheek. The cameraman dismisses everyone and your friends jump at the opportunity to hound you with questions. 

Hoseok’s eager to go first. “Whatcha been up to, [Y/N]? It’s been so long since we’ve all been together.”

“Just traveling, not much,” you reply, forcing the muscles in your mouth to cooperate into a believable smile. 

“Hey, that’s her business. Don’t be nosy,” Namjoon interjects. Yoongi and Jin give each other a knowing look.

“You’re just saying that because she communicates with you the most,” Jin teases. 

“I mean, I was her mentor… can’t help it if I’m her favorite.” He pats his puffed-out chest twice, proud as he winks at you. You giggle and Yoongi joins in the conversation.

“Okay, if anyone’s her favorite, it’s actually me. But anyway,” he tilts his head towards the bar, “help yourself to a drink.”

“Ooh, I will. Do you have any recommendations?” you ask. 

“Do you want something strong? Fruity?”

“Get her what Jungkook got,” Namjoon says. Jungkook stands off to the side, his jaw clenches at his name being mentioned. “You like peach-flavored things, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Because he told me…” He notices the group shooting glares at him like daggers. It reminds you of when an idol spoils their next comeback by accident. “... Told me it was delicious and that anyone would like it. It goes down smoothly. Very yummy. Hah. Hahaha! Is that a saxophone?”

He leaves the group in a hurry with Jin chasing after him yelling, “No! Leave the sax alone! I’m not paying for damages!”

Awkward glances are exchanged between Hoseok and Yoongi, a silent two-player game of telepathy you weren’t a part of. You can’t compel Hoseok, but Yoongi’s human. One look and you’d know what he was thinking, but that’d be highly inappropriate to do that to the groom at his wedding. 

“I’ll order my own,” you tell the couple and they wave goodbye. Jungkook’s already retreated to his friends, much to your relief. 

Once you’re at the outdoor bar, your mood lifts upon seeing the bartender. She puts down the glass she was drying and rests her hands on the countertop.

“Well if it isn’t the original hybrid queen herself.”

The bartender is young, her oval face and sharp jawline giving her a cute, handsome aura. Her hair is short, about shoulder-length, and straight. Her eyes are large, emphasized by her dramatic makeup to draw you in until you’re lost in them. 

“Hi, Ryujin. Wow, I haven’t seen you in forever.” She had a white shirt underneath her black vest; you think it suits her tom-boyish charms well.

“Since vampire ability class, I know. What can I get you, beautiful?”

The smirk she sends you has your nerves sparking, and the palms of your hands sweaty. It was different when a girl complimented you. It felt more believable, flattering even. 

You shrug in response to maintain a calm demeanor. “Hmm… I don’t know. Maybe something fruity? Citrusy?”

She nods, grabbing a shaker and a bottle of liquor under the counter straight away. You watch as she juggles the two items in the air, covering your mouth at the thought of gravity ruining her trick. However, she caught them both with ease, moving at such a fast speed as she concocted your beverage. It’s an elegant performance, her movements fluid like it’s an art. She finishes by topping off your glass with an orange slice.

“Here you go,” She slides the glittery pink drink over, and you take a sip, allowing the fruity taste to coat your tongue. “Matches your dress.”

You smile at the thoughtful gesture. “It’s good. Tastes like peaches and grapefruit. What’s it called?”

“It’s something I came up with. I wouldn’t mind sharing the recipe with you after the event’s over.”

You don’t miss the flirty tone in her words and can only laugh. She was so refreshing and has always stuck up for you in the past when others called you stuck-up for being a hybrid. Who knew she would end up flirting with you at a wedding years later?

“So? What do you say?” she asks, her eyes brimming with hope. You take another drink and finish the whole thing despite your shaky hands. She gives you a fond smile. “If I’m being too forward, tell me.”

“No, I’m just nervous,” you blurt out, setting the glass down. “You’re really pretty.”

“Is that so?”

You’re about to respond when you feel your temperature rise. You clasp a hand to your forehead, which goes from warm to scalding in seconds. Sweat beads form around your temples as your breathing becomes harsher. You rest your elbow on the counter to keep yourself balanced, but your legs are burning too. It was like someone lit a torch from beneath you, cooking your flesh inside out. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Ryujin asks. You shake your head and your vision blurs, the lights behind her looking like a bokeh image. She hands a bottle of water to you, and you gulp it down, yet the fever persists and you feel worse. 

Ryujin sees your eyes widen in alarm as you peer down at your dress. She inspects it too, but doesn’t see anything abnormal. You rub your thighs together. 

“Fuck… I think I’m in heat,” you tell her. Your hand rummages through your purse and then you curse again, frustrated. “I’m out of suppressants!”

Ryujin snaps her fingers when a lightbulb goes off in her head. “Ask Lia.”

“Good idea.”

You blink to wet your eyes, regaining clarity of your surroundings before heading to Lia on the dance floor. She was all smiles with a guy until you bumped into her, your darn heels being the bane of your existence.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” you quickly say, “I need your help.”

She takes one look, excuses herself, and brings you to a quieter space. Her hand reaches into her clutch and pulls out a lace handkerchief, dabbing the sweat off your forehead. Her touch is gentle and she asks quietly, “Are you in heat?”

Lia and Ryujin were best friends. Your sole encounters with her were because of Ryujin by extension, but even back then, you knew she was sweet. Wolves often looked down upon her because of her doll-like, docile appearance. However, she had enough balls to find friends in other cliques and was, what people say, a girl’s girl. 

“Yes, I feel like I’m dying. Ryujin told me to ask if you have suppressants.”

“I don’t. Do you not track your cycle?”

“I’m a hybrid! It’s random for me!” 

She grimaces, the pity in her eyes inevitable. “I’m sorry, I forgot. But you need to get out of here. Do you know how many horny young wolves are here with zero self-restraint?”

You shift your weight and a pool of discharge releases in your panties, the sticky sensation making you cringe. Lia brings out a travel-sized perfume spray and spritzes your entire body. A wheeze is forced out of you from the potent floral scent, but at least it will cover your pheromones long enough for a distraction.

“Hey everyone! The fireworks are starting soon, let’s go to the front of the school and watch!” Hoseok has his hands cupped around his mouth to carry his voice through the venue, catching the attention of all guests. Lia holds both your hands, looking you dead in the eye with a straight face.

“There. Use this time to find suppressants or get out of here. The perfume won’t last very long.”

“Thanks, Lia, I will.” 

While the crowd heads towards the front, you rush back to the restroom building. You’re a panting mess once inside, but you go into a stall, shut it, and pull down your undergarment. The fabric is soaked in slick and has a hefty weight—you have no choice but to discard it.

Grabbing toilet paper, you clean yourself up as best as you can. Then you step out, wash your hands, and exit the building.

“Hey there.” You almost topple backward from the sudden intrusion. Three guys are in front of you, all wearing the same, smug grin. They’re young, probably younger than you, but one thing’s for sure—they’re werewolves. 

There’s a particular scent that emits from wolves. It’s earthy, like a pine tree, and you’d usually find it comforting but now? Fear crawls up your spine like a spider has latched onto you, its legs creeping up your back in a spot you can’t smack away.

The one in the middle had greeted you first. He has a youthful face, and sculpted cheekbones, which are easy on the eyes. Speaking of, that was his most striking feature. They are almost cat-like (ironically) with how wide and long they are. 

“Are you lost? Everyone’s watching the fireworks,” he says, his thumb hiked over his shoulder. You don’t respond. “Ah, I’m Yeonjun. This is Beomgyu and that’s Soobin.”

Soobin is the tallest. He shows off his dimple smile upon being introduced, which seems pure, but the way his irises shifted to goldenrod says otherwise. Beomgyu, on the other hand, had the most innocent baby face you’ve ever seen. However, you don’t miss the way he licks his lips while giving you a once-over.

“I’m [Y/N]...” You don’t know why you give them your name, but it slips out. Maybe you hoped playing along would lead them to spare you. 

“Oh!” Soobin says, his index finger pointing up at the discovery. “You’re the original hybrid the professors rave about!”

“Half-vampire, half-werewolf, right?” Beomgyu asks. Your double moon necklace glows as you form your fingers into a claw shape behind your back. A small flame ignites and you hold it there, waiting for the right opportunity. 

“Yeah. I guess,” you say. “Why don’t you boys go watch the fireworks? I’ll catch up.”

“Nonsense! As gentlemen, we should escort you. Unless… you’d rather do something else. Here. Now.” Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, but you scowl in response. 

“No thanks.”

Soobin takes a step forward. “Is there anything else we can help you with?”

Beomgyu takes two. “I’m sure the three of us can be of use to you.”

It’s not until Yeonjun approaches you that you cower, stepping backward until you’re stopped by the water fountains. “No need to be shy. No one’s around.”

Your blood is boiling, though you’re not sure if it’s from your heat or rage. What’s worse is you’re not mad at them; you’re mad at yourself. Their words spurred you on as arousal drips down your thighs, a sign of your body’s betrayal. You fear if this escalates, they’ll figure out you’re not wearing anything underneath. 

“Get. Back.” You reveal the burning flame in your palm, the heat emanating off of it close enough to Yeonjun’s face. He jumps back and places a hand on his chest.

“Whoa! She’s feisty. Or should I say… fiery.”

“Maybe we should head back. She can do magic. I thought hybrids don’t know magic,” Soobin whispers. Yeonjun laughs at the ridiculous suggestion, shoving his friend for his cowardice as Beomgyu inspects him for injuries. 

“Doesn’t matter. Look at her state now.” He points in your direction, seeing how you’re barely able to stand. Your breaths are quick, shallow and your heart is thumping around like it’s going to burst out of your rib cage. The fire in your hand diminishes to a mere flicker, and then it’s out. You try to bring it back with the flick of a wrist, but all that emits are tiny sparks. Shit. I haven’t been practicing long enough.

Your womanhood is craving something, anything to alleviate the agony. It’s screaming for release, and you hold your abdomen as a sudden cramp pains you horribly. Human females experience this type of thing monthly and you have to hand it to them. This type of pain requires endurance and fucking sucks. 

You fall onto all fours, clutching your heart which is seconds away from bursting. It’s beating so loud, you can’t even hear the vulgar things the youngins are saying as they rush over. Soobin grabs your right arm; Yeonjun has the other.

You thrash in their clutches, but they only mock you with their boisterous laughter as they force you to your feet.

“Hey, hey! We’re just trying to help,” Soobin says. 

“Unless you’d rather be on all fours,” Yeonjun teases. Beomgyu bends down to your eye level, a crooked smile on his dainty face, the true embodiment of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

 “You’re pure temptation, you know that?” He leans close, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “Give up. Don’t put up a fight.”

“I don’t consent,” you say, a harsh bite in your words.

Soobin squeezes your arm, almost crushing it in his large hands. “Why? Is it because we’re young?”

“It’s clear you’re horny… we are too. Come on,” Beomgyu pleads. “We’ll take good care of you. Teach us what you like.”

“Yeah. And we’ll do the same.” Yeonjun holds your hand, inspecting it closely. “So soft. I bet your hand would feel so good around my—“

“Get your hands off her before I bite them off.”

Dizziness overwhelms you, so all you see is a blurry figure behind Beomgyu, and you shake your head to come to your senses. Once the man’s face comes into focus, relief washes over you, sending signals for your brain to let down your guard. The energy you so desperately clung to has depleted, so you close your eyes as your limbs turn into jelly.

Five seconds pass and the boys’ hold on you is gone. Someone else catches you before you faint, his scent familiar and comforting. 

“I got you,” he says as he lets you lean against his body. 

“Jungkook…”

“Can you stand?” You don’t know but nod anyway. “Good. Get behind me. You don’t want to see this.”

His broad back shields you from the three wolves, so you don’t even see the damage he inflicted upon them. Yeonjun was thrown into a tree a hundred feet away, the impact so potent that it split in half. Soobin and Beomgyu were fortunate not to collide into anything after being catapulted… except for each other. 

Soobin lands on top of Beomgyu and the smaller boy groans, pushing him off in a huff. He stands first and helps Soobin after. 

“Hey, we didn’t do anything wrong!” Yeonjun shouts as he scrambles to his feet, flaring his nostrils. “You and I both know she’s a bitch in heat!” 

You cling onto Jungkook’s blazer, and he looks over his shoulder.

“Is he right?” You don’t know if he asks to be polite because even you can smell your essence leaking. You hide your face in his back, flustered, but he feels you nod.

He redirects his attention back to the wolves. “That doesn’t give you the right to touch her. I suggest you leave before I make it physically impossible.”

Soobin scoffs while Beomgyu rolls his eyes. Yeonjun’s fuse was already lit and Jungkook’s sure there’s smoke coming out of his ears. You hear him crack his knuckles, the silence that follows deafening as you hold your breath in anticipation.  

“It’s three against two. Well, three against one, really,” Soobin says, laughing like he’s already won. 

“All I see is three smooth-brained pups who are pissing me off.” Jungkook’s eyes shift to a fiery goldenrod, the corner of his lips twitching as he smirks. “You’re aware that [Y/N] isn’t the only hybrid… right?”

You don’t see it, but their faces pale in comparison to earlier. Beomgyu covers his mouth, Soobin’s eyes widen, and Yeonjun growls. 

“There were rumors about more than one hybrid existing, but I didn’t think they were true,” Beomgyu says in a hushed tone. 

“She turned him? Fuck, they’re bonded then,” Soobin says. Yeonjun waves him off in a dismissive manner. 

“I don’t give a fuck. She’s not marked. We can take them.”

Jungkook has his fists up and changes into a fighter stance, but he feels you press your forehead against his back. It’s a searing sensation that scorches him even through the two layers of fabric he had on. He turns around and holds you by the shoulders.

“Hey, stay with me,” he begs. Your head is lolling back and forth as if you were inebriated. 

“It’s so hot… I’m too hot… I hate this, I hate this. Please… I need to cool down,” you beg. Jungkook takes a peek at the time on his watch, then bites his lower lip.

“Okay,” he whispers. “When I count to three, I need you to hold your breath. Can you do that for me?”

You mumble something Jungkook believes is a “yes” based on the beginning /y/ sound. 

“Three… two…”— he looks up —“one!”

A firework shoots up into the night sky, painting it with an explosive rainbow of sparkles. You cover your sensitive ears, but make sure to hold your breath as Jungkook uses his enhanced speed to whisk you away. More fireworks go off, muffling your tracks and making the youngins work harder to find you. 

However, Jungkook’s skills are unmatched. He sprints to the side of the school where the mountains are, and they follow suit. At the last second, he pivots and heads to the secluded area on the opposite side, where the lake is. 

The last memory you had here was something you blocked out to spare your mental health. You had almost died. But now this place was going to save you, funny enough. If you think about it, the lake had more happy memories than bad. This was where Namjoon trained you before you trained Jungkook.

You can picture it now as if it was yesterday. He, a newly turned werewolf, scared of what’s to come in his new life, and you, the school prodigy who had a crush on him.

Jungkook jumps off the dock with you in his arms, the splash overshadowed by the firework’s detonation. The cool water refreshes your sweltering body as you close your eyes, submitting to it. For a moment you don’t care about anything. Not how your makeup is smeared, how your curls are undone, or how your dress is ruined.

You feel strong arms hold you close, and an overwhelming sense of longing hits you in the gut. God, you missed him so much. Even without his memories, he still cares for you. Hell, he went out of his way to protect you.

Just when your lungs are on the verge of giving out, you’re pulled up to the surface. Your eyes flutter open as you rub the water off your face. Jungkook coughs, then cups your face with both hands.

“Are you okay?”

You take in his appearance for what feels like an eternity. His brown eyes twinkle from the moonlight, so beautiful and full of worry. You find it amusing how his hair is stuck to his forehead, the strands partially obstructing his view. Your hand pushes it out of the way without thinking like muscle memory, causing his breath to hitch.

“Thanks to you.”

Fireworks are still going off in the distance, illuminating you two in the crystal-clear water. Jungkook slowly removes his hands from you.

“Good. I um… don’t hear them anymore. They must’ve left. And the water should keep your scent hidden for now.”

“That’s a relief.” Jungkook places the back of his hand against your forehead but retracts it quickly as if he touched a hot stove. 

“Ow, oh my god. You’re still burning up!”

How naive were you to think it’d be over? You’ve experienced this once before, but that was with your first ex, who was at your beck and call for sex whenever you needed it. You couldn’t ask that of Jungkook. Not after everything that’s happened.

“I’ll figure something out. You’ve done a lot for me already and your clothes are wet.”

“I don’t give a damn about my clothes. Tell me how I can help you.”

*BOOM*

A red heart-shaped firework went off as you two stared at each other. Your gaze flickers from his eyes to his luscious lips and he doesn’t miss it. Maybe you don’t want him to.

“Why do you want to help me? We… We’re not that close.”

“Well… the thing is… I-I just…” He is so freakin’ cute. You might die from how endearing he is before your heat destroys you first. “Because.”

“Because?”

*BOOM*

“Because it’s finally just you and me.”

His answer is simple. There shouldn’t be any underlying connotations and yet, it reminds you of a past conversation. 

“We’re in this together. You and me. Okay?”

“Is it really you and me…”

“What do you mean?”

“Will it ever be? Just you and me?” 

“Now tell me what you need. Use me.”

Your pussy is throbbing so much that it’s agonizing. You just need a quick release, then you’ll be sane enough to go home without collapsing. 

“This feels…” So right, you think. “Wrong.”

His hands sneak around your waist. “Then let’s misbehave.”

He hoists you up onto the edge of the dock without warning as if you weigh nothing, and a grunt leaves his lips. It’s far too sexy to ignore, and your mind craves to hear it again. Then he places his hands on either side of your thighs and pulls himself up halfway out of the water, his face now directly in front of yours. 

“Tell me what you need. How can I please you?”

Fuck. You bite your lower lip when you realize the dock isn’t that tall—he’s at the perfect height to carry out the desires you’ve been suppressing. “I need to come…”

A water droplet falls off his button nose when he chuckles. “How do you want to come?”

You stare at his lips, which are thin yet plump at the same time, his lower lip being the bigger half. You think back to earlier when he sucked your palm. 

 “I want you to eat me out…”

He moves fast, almost like he knew what you’d say. His grip on the dock loosens, and he plops back into the lake but grabs your ankles, pulling you forward until your bottom is perched on the very edge. He spreads your thighs and rests his head between them, looking up at you like you were worth the entire universe. 

“Why don’t you lift your dress for me, gorgeous?”

You’re unsure what’s louder — the fireworks or your heart rate. If he keeps speaking to you in that low dialect, you may come right now. Your fingers bunch up the fabric at the hem and you slowly pull it up, exposing your pussy to his feasting eyes. 

“Fuck, what a beautiful pussy.”

You take two fingers and glide it up your folds, coating it in your slick. Jungkook watches, unsure of what you are going to do next. You lean forward, cupping his face with your other hand with a naughty glint in your eyes.

“Open.” He obliges, and you stick your coated fingers in his mouth. A muffled groan comes out as he sucks your fingers, his tongue swirling around so nothing goes to waste. “Good boy.”

You remove your fingers and he’s practically drooling, his eyes a bit crazed from your addictive taste.

“Please let me pleasure you, please.”

You don’t answer and run a hand through his damp hair, stopping at the back to grip it tight as you guide his head closer to where you need him most. He peers up at you adoringly when you hold him an inch away.

“Please me then.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His tongue licks a stripe on your sopping cunt, earning a shudder from you. Your thighs squeeze his head like a reflex, which only spurs him on to press his mouth harder against you. He begins to lap up your juices like a dog and you throw your head back, moaning at how insanely good it felt. 

You tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer if possible, the tight hold giving him a tinge of pain that ignites his carnal desires. He slurps your pussy like it was his last meal on death row, slithering his arms underneath your knees and holding your thighs hostage. You don’t know which noise was most obscene—your moaning or Jungkook’s.

Sneaking your free hand down, you use your forefinger and middle finger to spread your pussy lips wider. Jungkook’s excited and sinks his tongue as deep as it would go. You’re impatient now, riding his face as he tongue-fucks you. 

“Fuck, you’re so good to me, yes—oh god…” You don’t have it in you to say anything more coherent except for broken moans. Jungkook pauses for a second, and you whine at the loss of contact. Then you’re being stretched out as his two fingers submerge into you, nearly knocking the breath out of you. 

You lean back on your forearms as he begins to piston them into you, your wetness making it easy—too easy even. They slip out when he speeds up, and he makes up for it by eating you out and sinking his fingers back in simultaneously. 

You’re shaking, unable to hold yourself up any longer. Your back rests on the wooden planks as Jungkook flicks your clit with his tongue, his fingers drilling into you at a brutal speed and brushing your sweet spot. 

You see the last of the fireworks show go off, a beautiful explosion of silver sparkles and stars, as your orgasm finally comes. You arch your back and scream, but Jungkook doesn’t slow down. He can feel how tight your walls are constricting around his fingers and knows you need a few more seconds of bliss to be fully satisfied. 

Overstimulation was always a gamble. If pushed too far, you’d be in pain. But most of the time you welcome it. One second you want the pleasure to stop building, but then you crave that ache of clenching so hard until your body gives out. 

Jungkook stops again. This time he pulls himself out of the water completely and hovers over your body. His fingers plunge into you again, his speed relentless, and you swear you’re seeing stars (or maybe that’s the fireworks who knows). Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you say his name like a mantra.

“Come for me, beautiful. I want you dripping in my hand again.”

Your eyes are wide when warm lips are pressed against your own. But you submit and savor it, having missed his touch. Combining that with the way he curls his fingers inside makes you squirt. Hard. 

Your entire body convulses and you can’t even scream because Jungkook is determined to swallow them. The limitation only makes you come harder than before. Then again, you’re not sure if this is a second orgasm or a drawn-out first one. 

The involuntary gushing is an indescribable sudden wave of pleasure. You feel so relieved from the release, pushed to tears at how good it felt. Jungkook pulls away a centimeter to let you breathe, and you submit to the foreign feeling.

Oh my god, he made me squirt. I didn’t even know that was possible. 

He pulls his soaked fingers out and resumes kissing you, moving his lips in rhythm to yours. It’s so natural, almost like he’s done this before. Well, he has, but it felt so right. So loving. So… intimate. 

You place a hand on his chest and give him a gentle push. He pulls back a little, a melancholy look passing his face. 

“Will you stay?”

You can’t. He’s not supposed to be tangled up with you again. You erased his love for you for a reason; it wasn’t the right time. Any decisions made till now were because of your heat and your brain was finally back in command. 

“I can’t.”

He caresses your cheek. “Why not?”

Because I’m not ready to love you the way you deserve. Because I love you so much that I’m afraid things will fall apart again. 

“Because we don’t know each other,” You push him off you and stand, trying not to slip. Jungkook’s hands were already in position to catch you if you did. “Not really.”

As you walk away, he says something so chilling that it crystalizes your blood into ice. “You’re running away again.” 

You refuse to turn around. “It’s my choice.”

“What about my choice and what I want? Do you not care?” He stands up and tightens his fists. “Are you leaving for good this time?”

This… time? He doesn’t remember. He can’t remember.

“Goodbye, Jungkook.”

He watches as your figure grows smaller in the distance. His head hangs low and he fights back tears. You’ve made it clear what you want. He had to let you go.

A/N: I am currently writing part 2, don't worry! It's a long one, lol. This was also my first time writing in present tense. Loved it. I hope you enjoyed it too. Thank you for giving my writing a chance. 🥰

[nadvs]

home before dark (part five)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

You and Rafe haven’t said anything to each other since your kiss. After a moment of tense silence, he collected himself and you headed back to the party. He found his friends. You found yours.

It’s been over an hour, the sun now nestled below the horizon, and you keep catching his eye in the dark, crowded backyard. You remind yourself that his gaze is so persistently on you due to your arrangement. He’s looking out for you. That’s all.

But he didn’t have to kiss you. He could have opted for something less… intense. Because now your mind won’t stop repeating it and everything that lead up to it. Stoic, unattached, cold Rafe cried. Actually cried. And then he kissed you so gently that your head still feels like it’s spinning.

You look at him again from across the yard. He’s surrounded by the same guys he always hangs out with, but for once, you can see just how lonely he actually looks.

It hurts to think about how he considers you to be the only person who cares about him - you, a reminder of the worst thing that happened to him.

What about his friends? Or his family? Do they all neglect him, unwilling to see past his hard exterior?

When Rafe trails your car to your house after the party, it’s a few minutes past midnight and his body is already feeling the itch for more coke. It’s the best way to numb everything. But he can’t afford to. Not when he’s taking care of you. Not when you looked at him the way you did when you said he could quit.

You glance up every so often to see Rafe in the frame of your rearview mirror, his bike rumbling behind you, his headlight bright.

You reach your home, relieved to see that the mailbox is closed, and pull into the driveway.

After you both come through the front door, you arm the security system, then turn to face him.

“Do you want to take the guest bed?” you ask, having rehearsed it in the car. “Or just sleep in my room again?”

Rafe doesn’t make much eye contact with you. He’s still embarrassed.

“A distraction would be good,” he admits. He can’t fall asleep alone, sober, with nothing but his own mind replaying the humiliation of crying in front of you.

“So, boring you to sleep was a smart idea?” you ask with a small smile. Knowing you’re helping him, even in this silly little way, is gratifying considering how much he’s helping you.

Rafe huffs amusedly, tilting his head. You make your way up the stairs and he follows, chewing on his lip before he can say his next words. The guilt is killing him. Especially when you have nothing but patience and compassion for him.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to…” He stops in the hallway, wanting to get this out before he gets ready for bed. “This morning… I shouldn’t have left like that.”

Rafe’s lids are low and he shuffles in place, like this is the first apology he’s ever given someone and he’s not sure if he’s doing it right.

The way he left your home was abrupt. His tone was harsh. But it was because you did the only thing you’re not supposed to do. You brought up the past. And you can’t blame him.

You decide to try to dismiss the tension between you.

“Couples fight,” you joke. “It’s okay.”

Rafe nods, his gaze still on the floor. You realize right behind him, up on the wall, hangs the photo of you and him and your mothers. His smile used to be so bright.

He steps towards the guest room and when he closes the door behind him, you take the photo off the wall and shove the frame in your dresser. You’ll do anything you can to protect him from any and every reminder.

When Rafe enters your dark bedroom, you nervously take a breath before you speak.

“You can just sleep up here again if you want,” you say. “The floor’s probably not that comfortable.”

“Sure,” he says, hoping he sounds indifferent even though he’s the farthest thing from it.

Kissing you was a thrill and just the thought of sleeping next to you makes his entire body feel like it’s on fire. Being close to you is like its own drug and he can’t get enough.

You smell minty toothpaste as Rafe settles next to you in bed. You stay on your side, faced away from him, as he lies on his back, resting a hand on his stomach.

“I’m trying to think of a boring story,” you say. You shake your head to yourself. “This is weird.”

“Weird?” he echoes, on edge that you’re regretting inviting him to sleep next to you.

“Yeah,” you admit. “My ex used to tell me that I talk too much. I’m still getting used to the idea that someone actually wants to hear me ramble.“

“He said that to you?” Rafe turns his head, looking at your silhouette in the dark.

You stare ahead, eyelids fluttering. It’s a hard subject, but you almost feel like you owe it to him. He was so vulnerable earlier tonight. You want to balance the scales.

“All the time,” you recall. The thought of that idiot berating you ignites rage in his core.

“It was like a power play or something,” you continue. “I think he liked to say things just to hurt me, then get me to forgive him. I… gave him too many chances. Maybe that’s why he keeps trying to get me back.”

“You didn’t bring this on yourself,” Rafe says before even a second can pass.

You breathe out slowly. You know he’s right.

“Yeah,” you say. “I guess it’s easier to feel like I’m responsible in some way because then I’m not just a victim.”

Silence settles between you for a moment, a gap slowly opening.

“You didn’t do anything to deserve that.” The gap closes and your heart skips a beat. Rafe isn’t the type to say something just to say it. You know he really thinks that.

“Thank you.” You pick at a string on your duvet cover. Expecting him to open up is a losing game, but it’s one you can’t stop playing. “Have you been… in a relationship?”

You’ve never seen Rafe with a girl for longer than the duration of a party. But maybe he kept his commitments under wraps. He’s an expert at hiding from the world.

“No,” he says with a cynical chuckle. He’s hooked up loads of times. But a relationship? Not even close.

“Why not?” you ask. Despite his scary reputation, Rafe’s undeniably attractive. And some girls like the scary thing. Maybe you would if you didn’t know there was nothing to be scared of.

“Just haven’t,” Rafe answers. You stifle a sigh. It was a matter of time before he closed up again.

“So, um, I can talk about my day?” you offer. “You fell asleep to that last night. I’ll try not to be offended again.”

Rafe smirks at your joke and taps his fingers against his stomach. You never push him to talk. He appreciates it.

Brushing you off is a reflex. He doesn’t want it to be. You clearly spent more than enough time dealing with a jerk and he doesn’t need to be one to you, too. So, he decides to answer your question. Honestly, this time.

“I think it’s because I… just…” he begins, trying not to stammer, “I can’t stop how fast my thoughts are sometimes. I can’t control how mad I get. There’s no point in getting serious with a girl because the second she hears what my head sounds like, she’ll bail.”

The more you learn about who Rafe is today, the more it hurts. Does he think there’s nothing worth loving in him? That everyone will abandon him?

“The right girl won’t,” you say into the dark. “She’ll want to hear it all.” You hear Rafe chuckle in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he says sarcastically. His mind is a place of high highs and lower lows. He can hardly survive it himself. He couldn’t expect someone else to.

“It’s true.” You’d be that girl if he’d let you. But your very existence plagues him. You’ll never be that girl for him and he’ll never want you to be.

“I know people call me a psycho. They’re not far off,” he admits.

“You’re not that.” You don’t even want to say the word. “If you were, you would’ve laughed in my face when I asked you to pretend to be my boyfriend. But you didn’t. You’re here.”

You feel Rafe shift his weight. His back is to yours now.

“So, your day?” he says.

He’s done talking. And even though you’d like him to share his thoughts with you until sunrise, you’re relieved you actually got somewhere with him. Bit by bit, he’s baring his soul to you, and it’s just as gentle as you remember.

You tell Rafe about your time at the mall today, once again going into meaningless details just to make the story drag.

His heart is hammering in his ears as he lies in your bed, eyes shut, listening to you speak. He’s never admitted to anyone why he’s never wanted a girlfriend. Not even to his closest friends. If they ever asked, he’d say he wasn’t into commitment.

He can’t believe now that he said it out loud, it was to the one person he thought he’d spend the rest of his life avoiding.

Again, Rafe isn’t in bed when you wake up. You find him downstairs, waiting for you just like yesterday.

Before you lock the door behind him, he offers you a simple bye. It’s a reminder that even though he cried in front of you and kissed you and revealed why he won’t let anyone in, you’re still being kept at a distance.

It’ll be a hot day, so you make plans with friends to have lunch at the country club and spend the afternoon by the outdoor pool.

When you get to the pool deck and recline in a lounger, you notice a lot of other Kooks had the same idea today. Scattered along the poolside are groups of a lot of the people you see at parties, drinking and soaking in the scorching sun.

You’re instinctually looking for Rafe. When you spot him on the other side of the pool, sitting in a chair identical to yours, you immediately feel at ease.

It’s probably not a good idea to let your eyes linger on his toned, bare chest. But you do.

You wonder what these days will look like when all this is over and Ty stops pursuing you. Will you go back to seeing Rafe at rowdy parties and spontaneous events like these, hoping he’s okay, wishing you could talk to him but knowing he’ll treat you like a stranger?

You look away. Dwelling on this will only make you sad.

Later in the afternoon, you’re leaning back in your chair under the sun, beads of pool water sprinkled over your skin. You’ve been swimming with your friends most of the day, calm because Rafe is so close by.

Your eyes are closed as you relax in the sun. But then you hear his laugh. Ty’s laugh.

You stiffen immediately, sitting up straight, eyes darting around to match the nauseating sound to the face. Your heart is racing, playing back everything that’s happened in the past few days.

The creepy letter. The footsteps in front of your door. The way he mocked you on the beach, asking what you’ll do when Rafe’s not around to protect you.

“You okay?” your friend asks.

“Did you see...” you begin. You can’t waste another second. You don’t even grab your towel when you stand up.

You walk along the crowded pool, heading straight for Rafe.

When he sees you rushing over, your head frantically whirling to look behind you with every couple of steps you take, his body is injected with a blazing urgency.

Rafe swiftly rises from his seat, leaving his friends to watch him in confusion for leaving the conversation so suddenly.

He helps seal the distance between you and once you’re close enough, he takes your hand and leads you to the edge of the pool deck by an uninhabited rental booth.

You round the wall, earning privacy. Your bodies meet and you yield to him just like you did to your instincts, pressing your cheek against his chest and circling your arms around his torso.

Rafe hugs you back. Tightly. His skin is warm, not a drop of water on him, a sharp contrast to the clamminess clinging onto your skin and bathing suit.

“What happened?” he murmurs. He notices how fast your shoulders are skittering. You’re shaking against him.

“I thought I heard him,” you say. Now, thankfully, all you can hear are the thumps of Rafe’s heart over the roar of swarms of people swimming and sunbathing. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Rafe knows the feeling. He envelops you tighter. He hasn’t used his body to hold somebody like this… ever. He’s used to using it to inflict harm. To hurt. So why does this feel so natural?

“Do you want me to see if he’s here or do you want me to stay?” he asks.

“Stay,” you reply. You always wanted him to stay. His big arms remain wrapped around you, chipping away at the fear you rushed over here with.

Your bodies are curved into each other, his warmth radiating off of him. Rafe hasn’t left the poolside all day. He couldn’t risk a distraction. He needed to be there in case something happened to you. And something did.

And feeling you settle in his arms, the way your trembles start to disappear and your breath grows deeper, is worth it. He’d do anything to keep you safe. Anything.

Eventually, once your stress has become much more bearable, you pull back. Rafe’s hard blue eyes sweep over your face.

“I won’t let him near you, alright?” he says. His hands drag up to your face, palms pressed at your cheeks. You nod with wide, doleful eyes.

You exist in this moment together, like you did in your bed after your nightmare, like you did when you were alone on the beach last night, touching even though there’s nobody around to fool.

Then, Rafe pulls his hands off of you and once again, tension wedges its way between you. He steps back. So do you.

“Do you want to sit with me for a while?” he says gruffly, his stare on the ground now.

“Just you?” you ask. The hope in your voice floods him with sadness. Does the thought of being with his friends upset you that much?

“Yeah,” Rafe says.

“Yeah,” you echo.

Your bare arms are an inch from touching as you sit together on the shallow edge of the pool, your legs dangling over in the water.

“I don’t even want to look if he’s here,” you confess, looking down at your thighs pressed against the concrete next to Rafe’s.

“I will,” he says. You see him look up from the corner of your eye. After a moment, he shakes his head. “He’s not.”

“Okay,” you breathe. It’s odd that Ty hasn’t been around. Maybe Rafe really did scare him off for good. “Thanks.”

You’d been in this pool as kids a few times. Not nearly as much as you were on the beach behind his house, but a few summer days, Rafe’s mom would bring you and her children here.

He was always protective of his sisters. You remember his boyish voice calling for his mom whenever Sarah started wading towards the deep end. Now, any time you see him with his sister, they’re snapping at each other.

Again, your mind spirals to who Rafe would be if he never suffered such a terrible loss. He’d probably be close to his siblings, instead of pushing everyone away.

You glance at him, taking in his blue eyes and freckled skin in the sun, and try to smile. But you can’t. A piece of your heart will always be missing because of what happened to him.

When you join your friends, the bright mood you arrived at the club with is gone.

You take a long, hot shower as soon as you’re home, deciding you’ll have a night in tonight. The day was too heavy to try to have any fun.

It’s nearly ten when you settle in front of the tv under a blanket. Just so Rafe doesn’t worry about you not showing up at your mutual friend’s party, you text him: i’m staying in tonight. don’t worry if you get here late. just call me and i’ll let you in.

He calls you within a minute.

“Hello?”

“Did something happen?” Rafe asks. He doesn’t have to be specific - he’s asking if Ty found a way to scare you again.

“No, I’m… just not in a partying mood,” you respond.

“Are you alone?”

You curl up under your blanket, hooking an arm around your legs.

“Yes.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds before he asks, “Do you want to be?”

“No,” you admit.

You remotely open the gate when Rafe arrives minutes later, watching him come up the driveway on his motorcycle through the window.

When he settles on the other end of the couch in your living room, he snorts a laugh.

“Really?” he asks once he sees what’s on the screen.

“Be nice,” you quip. “It’s my comfort film.”

“Still?”

Your heart is in your throat. He remembers. You made him watch it with you once, years ago. You both talked through most of it.

“That’s the thing about comfort films, Rafe,” you reply. “They don’t change.”

He stretches his arms along the armrest and back of the couch, taking up all the space he wants to. He grew up to be so tall and big and powerful.

“Defensive,” he responds. You roll your eyes and smile.

As the movie continues, Rafe watches you and the only word he could use to describe how you look curled up on the couch is cute. His body reacted to your kiss, to the way your curves felt when you pressed up against him in that hug, because of course it did, but it’s more than that.

You’re pretty to him in the most innocent way and it’s like he’s a boy again, confused about how he could be so nervous around someone yet still want to be with them nonstop.

This is getting harder. He’s growing attached and he knows he shouldn’t for both of your sakes. Because you can both try to pretend you don’t have a history, but you do. It follows you around. You can’t outrun it.

“I can find something else to watch if you want,” you say. He tears his eyes off of you before you catch him staring.

“It’s fine,” he says. You nod and let yourself enjoy his company, even though it’s fleeting.

You sit up suddenly when you realize you dozed off. Your eyes find Rafe, who’s smirking at you.

“How long was I out?” you ask.

“How good can a movie be if you fall asleep?” he teases. You playfully nudge his knee with your foot. “Like, ten minutes. Not long.”

“I’m more tired than I thought,” you say.

“Probably from staying up late to talk,” Rafe replies.

“The price I pay for a bodyguard,” you say with a laugh. You rub your eyes. “Are you ready for bed?”

The casual way you ask the question in your fatigue almost makes him dizzy. It makes you sound like you’re a real couple.

Rafe trails you up the stairs and before he turns to change into his pajamas in the guest room, the gap in the wall of photos is glaringly obvious. You removed the framed picture of his mother.

“You took it down,” he says without thinking. He feels the comedown hitting him. Another low his mind is racing through.

The hallway is dim and you’re staring at his back now. You twist your hands together, jittery, like you’re about to take a test and saying one wrong thing will fail you.

“Yeah,” you reply softly. “You don’t like reminders, right?”

Rafe’s body feels like it weighs a million pounds. He’s stuck. Heavy.

“Is that…” He shakes his head to himself. “Is that bad?”

“What?”

“Nevermind,” he says. It’s like pulling teeth, giving a voice to the thoughts that he’s always running away from.

“Not wanting reminders isn’t bad,” you say behind him. “If that’s what you mean.”

You feel like you’ve been wrung out. You’re a reminder. You step towards him, even though he’s facing away from you. You can’t help but want to touch him again.

When Rafe feels your hand cup his, he lets out a deep breath.

“I shouldn’t be trying to forget her,” he says. Fuck. Now that he’s started talking, it’s like he can’t stop. Why can’t he stop?

Your mind swirls as if you’re in a dream. He’s actually talking about his mom. You continue to stare at his back.

“I don’t think you are,” you whisper.

“How would you know?” he mutters sharply.

It’s a defence mechanism. You can tell. He’s trying to push you away. You won’t let him.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say. “But I think what you’re really trying to forget is how bad it hurts. Am I right?”

Rafe’s chest rises and falls with rough, shallow jolts. His heart pounds. His eyes wander over the space where the photo was.

“The last time I…” He’s unable to stop his rushed words. “The last time I had a chance to tell her, I didn’t. I just… I didn’t.”

“Tell her what?”

“That I loved her.”

Your throat goes dry.

“She knew,” you say. You grip his hand tighter. “Of course she knew.”

“She said it and I - I just didn’t say it back,” he stammers. “We hit the wall so hard and she - I know now that she knew she wasn’t going to make it. That’s why she told me she loved me. I didn’t say it back.”

Your heart thrashes against your ribs and your stomach turns with agony.

“Oh, my God. Were you…” you whisper. “Rafe, were you in the car?”

His eyes squeeze shut. He can still hear his mother asking are you okay? He answered yes and she said thank God, I love you and then he saw the way she was slumped over the steering wheel from where he sat in the backseat and he couldn’t speak from fear and he stopped believing in a God the second he heard her take her last breath.

That’s when he found his voice. He started screaming for her to wake up. She never did. It birthed a burning, merciless anger deep inside him that controls him to this day.

The last thing his mother did was make sure he knew he was loved. And he didn’t say it back.

“I didn’t know,” you say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You heard very little about the accident. It was stormy. She hit a freeway barrier. She died before the ambulance arrived. Nobody ever went into any more detail and you didn’t want them to.

There’s a gaping hole in your chest. Rafe was there when she died. He was with her. You always wondered where he was when he learned she passed away. How he was told the horrifying news.

But nobody had to tell him. Your best friend watched his world end right in front of him, leaving him with pain he has been running from since.

He wriggles out of your grip. Speaking to you is making him live through it again. And if he keeps talking, he’ll say something he regrets.

“I’ll sleep on my own tonight,” he says, voice thin. You watch him disappear into the guest room.

You rush to your bedroom and shut the door so he doesn’t hear the heavy sobs that start to erupt out of you.

You pace around the room, aching from the inside out. Right now, you don’t picture Rafe as the man he is, protecting you, carrying a gun. You picture the boy. At the beach. In the car. At the funeral.

Like a tide reaching a shore, you gravitate towards him. If he rejects you, you can take it. But you can’t handle the thought of him needing someone and you not being there.

Rafe is sitting at the edge of the guest bed when you turn the door handle. You close the distance and sit beside him, wrapping your arms beneath his, tight around his body.

“You can tell me to go away,” you whisper against his back. “I promise I will if you want me to.”

You feel his chest filling and contracting with his harsh breaths. He hunches over, head in his hands.

“Go away,” he mutters. Just like when he was a kid. His voice is deeper now, but his words are the same.

The pain is sharp. It takes everything in you to let go of him. But you do. For what feels like the thousandth time, he denies you a place in his healing, the only thing you’ve ever truly wanted from him.

The tears welling in his eyes fall when he hears the door shut behind you. He can’t do this. He can’t relive it. He can’t disappoint you. He can’t open up all the way and tell you everything because if he does, he’s not sure he’ll be able to forgive himself or put himself back together.

You lie in bed, your chest hurting so bad that you’re not sure it’ll ever get better. It’s like for every step you take forward with Rafe, you take two back.

He held you, kept you from a panic attack today, but you don’t possess whatever it is you need to help him. He can keep you afloat, but you can’t return the favor.

He knows you care about him. He cried about it last night. Evidently, what you offer is still not enough.

He’s just down the hall, so close but at a distance. You pull up your duvet and wish he were beside you, falling asleep to the sound of your rambling.

But no amount of wishing for anything can make it come true. If there’s anything you’ve learned from your broken friendship with Rafe, it’s that.

(part six)

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