#he’s so stupidly handsome help

[claudethecrabdemoness]

⚡️🧿📺 ✞༒Tune On In༒✞ 📺🧿⚡️

“Sinners rejoice! For your salvation is just a TV station away…”

[holybibly]

♡ 𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: Innocent nerd Seonghwa х reader ♡ 𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Gentle, shy nerd Seonghwa has a stupidly huge dick and all you can think about is how much you want him to completely destroy your pussy, but there are two problems: One, he's a virgin, and two, his huge, innocent, sparkling eyes. ♡ 𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 / 𝔄𝔲 / 𝔗𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔢: smut, University!AU ♡ ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI ♡ 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: ? ♡ 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Shy Virgin! Seonghwa, soft!reader, unprotected sex, first time, lots of sperm, fingering, pet names, size kink, creampie, boobs sucking, nipple play, dirty talk, pussy drunk, pussy eating, overstimulation, oral, multiple orgasms, praise kink, wet and dirty, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and more. ♡ 𝔄|𝔑: Rose Prick: (slang) pretty pink dick. Penis of overly pretty, handsome or feminine boy. And I remind you, bunnies, that I am very unpredictable, so never judge me too soon.

You try to ignore how Seonghwa's big, shining eyes focus on your breasts, his long lashes flutter, and the tip of his sharp tongue flicks between his excessively puffy pink lips, and you swallow, feeling the mucus run out of your warm, silky pussy, making your panties noticeably wet from Hwa's seemingly so simple action. It was almost embarrassing—the way an innocent look could make you so wet and hot for him. 

"Your titties look so full and soft." Seonghwa whispered, and a dark pink blush spread over his beautiful cheeks. 'Can I touch them?" The tone of his voice is so sweet, as if Seonghwa is talking about flowers and butterflies and not about your breasts. 

You gasp slightly at his words, squirming in your seat and squeezing your thighs harder, hoping to relieve the pressure that has begun to build up between your legs. The thin French lace of your panties rubs lightly against your clit from your movements, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud. The mere thought of Seonghwa wanting to touch your breasts makes you shudder, causing a real internal crisis as he continues to gaze at you with the waiting, glistening eyes of a doe, waiting for you to respond to him, seemingly oblivious to your condition. 

'May I, please?' Seonghwa asks again, fluttering his long, fluffy eyelashes at you, and you melt away. How can you say no to him when he is asking you so sweetly?

"Yes, you can touch my boobs." You barely a whisper as you slowly undo more of the buttons on your blouse, exposing your plump tits, which are covered by a lace bra with lovely frills. 

Seonghwa, smiling shyly, reached for your breasts and cupped the soft mound, causing you to gasp barely audibly. You really weren't mentally prepared for this; Seonghwa's hand is warm and big, your tit fits almost completely in his palm, and that's enough to make more mucus run out of your pussy. 

Your tits have always been very sensitive, and you could easily come just from stimulating them. Which doesn't help you at the moment, especially when Seonghwa decides to touch your other tit as well. His hands massage and squeeze the tender flesh through your bra, a little rough and clumsy, but with an enthusiasm that is almost childish. Long fingers are boldly pushing down the cups of your bra down, almost exposing your nipples so that he can get a better feel for your tits. 

"They're so soft and heavy." You bite your lips to stop yourself moaning because it feels so damn good. Your round cheeks were so hot and red when you noticed how Seonghwa was looking at your tits; his beautiful lips were parted and glistening with saliva, and his big eyes were filled with admiration. 

And it made you want more, so you put your hands behind your back, unhooked your bra, and pulled it off completely, together with your blouse. The cool air was licking at your nipples, making them even harder than they already were from Seonghwa's actions so far.

Seonghwa's Adam's apple twitches as he swallows before he wraps his hands around your now naked tits once more and crushes them roughly in the palms of his hands. You let out a scream at this treatment, but you say nothing and let Hwa play with your breasts the way he wants to. You feel the rough pad of his thumb run over the sensitive nipple of your breast. 

"It feels so good; your tits are like pillows, soft and warm." Seonghwa cooed. He pinched your nipples between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, rubbing and pinching on the dark pink buds. He doesn't seem to be aware of the state you're in right now, as he works you to the fullest and enjoys the feel of your heavy, plump tits in his hands. 

This time you don't hold back; you moan loudly, arching your back and pushing your tits even harder into Seonghwa's hands as the handsome boy twists your nipples sharply between his fingers. You squeeze your thighs together even harder. The painful sensation of pleasure coursing through your body makes your hole tremble, and more viscous, clear mucus comes out. A puddle of liquid lust is building up in your panties, making them uncomfortably sticky to the touch. Seonghwa probably has no idea what he's doing to your body and how his touch is making you crave his cock inside you. 

"S-Songhwa, you have to be more gentle...I'm sensitive...' You stutter slightly as you wrap your fingers around his wrist, stopping him from moving and drawing his attention to you. "If you want to play with my nipples, you have to be gentle. Do you understand?" 

Seonghwa tilts his head slightly to the side, looking at you with glassy, bambi eyes as if pondering something, before a shy smile appears on his lips and his cheeks seem to turn even more red than before. 

"Can I take it in my mouth?" He asks in a soft, velvety voice, and you think you might explode. Hell, you wanted Seonghwa to be less innocent right now, but you'll work on that, won't you? You decide to be brave as you raise your hand to his handsome face and run your fingers over his puffy lips, which are slightly parted, and press them lightly into his moist, warm mouth. Unconsciously, Seonghwa immediately closes his lips around your fingers and starts to suck on them. This only confirms your thoughts that cute Park Seonghwa has a strong oral fixation. 

"Yes, Hwa, you can take them in your mouth; you can even lick and suck them." With those words, your fingers slip out of his mouth, glistening and wet with his saliva, and Seonghwa leans down to your breasts before those sensual, slutty lips cling to your swollen, candy-pink bud. "Oh, fuck..." You almost gasp for breath as the sensation of that soft, slippery tongue cupping your sensitive nipple sends shivers down your spine. Seonghwa wraps one hand around your boobs, supporting it as his tongue rubs sensually over your nipple, while his other hand slides down your body until you can feel it resting on your bare waist, making your skin tingle where he touches it.

Your hands cling to Seonghwa's shoulders as the beautiful brunette sucks your breasts sweetly, almost childishly, swallowing the tender flesh and moaning softly with pleasure, covering his large, glistening eyes. He continues to run his tongue greedily over the soft skin of your breasts while his other hand gently squeezes your waist. Your breathing speeds up, your mouth opens in a low moan, and Seonghwa gently bites down on your nipple with his perfect teeth, accompanied by wet, lapping sounds. 

You feel a new stream of mucus pouring out of your pussy; your panties are soaked through, and you won't be surprised if you start to drip through the fabric soon. You whimper, with each passing minute, the desire to be filled, to feel how your pussy is stretching around Seonghwa's big, thick cock until it's almost painful. And you don't even know if you'll be able to take his whole cock in your cunt the first time.

You'd heard the rumours going around the university—the gentle, shy, cutie Park Seonghwa had a stupidly huge and thick cock. And maybe you'd even let it go if one of your friends who took swimming lessons in the same class with Seonghwa hadn't confirmed it. 

And damn, you couldn't wait to have a look at it and a taste of it in person.

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for @lavender-constellation

A/N: Thank you so much for commissioning again! Means a whole lot <3 Hope you like it, it was super fun to write.

Request: Two Co workers in an office setting where they have to work closely together every day, one is a male!werewolf, the other is a fem!bunny girl that experiences heat. Bunnygirl is going through heat, trying to focus on the task and trying not to run to the bathroom to masturbate. Werewolf notices this, they have a convo about her being in heat, and werewolf offers to help her out. She almost says yes but says no and is afraid it would be unprofessional, he gets closer to her and rubs her clit and she relents for the chance at relief and to focus back on work. He fingers her and eats her out in her cubicle. Aaaaand more scenes of him “helping” her out until eventually they just start fucking at her apartment before work It becomes an at least twice a day thing for the duration of her heat, half the time in The cubicle half the time in his car, both trying to convince themselves it’s just so she can focus on work again,(though werewolf is a little smug about it) and the werewolf is just helping her out as a coworking favor, nothing more, but they’re both secretly catching feelings.

The key to productivity

Werewolf x fem!werebunny || heat, oral sex, fingering, knotting, semi-public sex, dub-con (kinda?)

You told your doctor you were feeling weird and the blood tests came back positive. You were going into heat, and your suppressants stopped working. He told you he could give you different ones, but you would have to ride at least two heats before that. You tried to argue that you couldn’t do it, you had to work, you had stuff to do… But there was no other way around it.

That’s how you find yourself in the middle of your stupidly boring desk job shift when the first wave hit. You think you are dealing okay with it, moving a bit more than normal, but everything is going as normally would. The world feels a bit off, but you convince yourself you can do it. Nobody has to know. You can ride the heat off and be okay after it. You can. You are a strong werebunny and you can get through that and more. Totally…

Surprisingly for anybody: you cannot.

Your cubicle coworker, a big werewolf that you might or might not have a crush on is the first one to notice. “Why are you so restless?” He asks in the middle of your day.

You turn your chair around and look at him trying to look confused as you deny it. “I- I’m not restless.” As you say it, you start feeling the blush creeping at your cheeks, your ears twitching.

“Yes, you are. And,” he sniffs the air, ���aroused?” You blush harder. “Are you going into heat?” His tone is teasing and you want to kick that stupid grin off his face. “Can I help?” He grins at you, such a puppy gesture that you want to kiss his stupid snout as he shows you his canines.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused. There’s no way he’s offering what you think he’s offering, is it? There’s no way a big handsome werewolf like he wants you, a werebunny nobody. No way.

But to your surprise, he just rationalizes it. “We need to finish this project today, and we can’t if you keep being jumpy and stressed and clearly restless. Let me help. Smelling how wet you are I bet it won’t even take that long.” The way he says it like it meant nothing should have been offending, but instead it turns you on more, your pussy twitching over nothing as you whined low. You cover your mouth instantly, embarrassed. “Come on, it’s just sex between coworkers, just some friendly... helping out.” His tone is teasing but there’s a hint of heat under it.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of you just because I smell…” You lower your tone, “like arousal.” You have to spit the last part out because you are so embarrassed you don’t even want to know how red your face is.

“I offered, remember? Also, you smell fucking delicious, I could eat you whole.” His confession makes you want to squirm, your brain sending alarm bells because of butterflies taking flight inside your tummy, but you ignore them. “Is that a yes? Can I touch your wet pussy?” His smirk is even more teasing now, and your pussy twitches again, your clit demanding attention.

You blush as you ask: “Why do you need to be so… crude?” His words are turning you on but you don’t want him to know that.

He smirks bigger, all his teeth showing and making you squirm under his heated eyes. “You like it, I can smell the spike of arousal when I tell you dirty things.” He sniffs the air and makes a humming noise, like he’s savoring your smell.

“Yo- You can?” You choked out, surprised by that but also embarrassed about it.

“Yes, I can. Your smell turns sweeter when I talk about licking your clit and finger fucking your tight pussy.” You groaned at his words, his crudeness indeed doing it for you. Damn him for being so fucking hot and filthy. And damn you for finding it extra hot.

“Okay,” you whisper. “You can help me.” In the back of your brain, there’s a voice saying that is going to be a bad idea, but you ignore that too, the voice that tells you to let him fuck you senseless is a lot louder.

“Hell yeah!” His enthusiasm shocks you, but you don’t have time to say anything. “Come here.” He didn’t let you move your chair, he grabbed it and pulled, positioning it next to his across the cubicle. You groaned, the manhandling apparently doing it for you, too. Good goddess, why was everything he did so hot?

He parts your legs with a forceful pull, making you groan and cover your mouth with your hand, once again dying of embarrassment. He chuckles and goes for it. You were never so happy to have worn a skirt in your life. He doesn’t even take your panties off, he pulls them to the side and starts rubbing your clit like a pro.

You are muffling your sounds as he chuckles and keeps going, acting uninterested as you squirm under his ministrations. Not two seconds later he has a finger in your pussy as his thumb circles over your oversensitive clit. And then he adds a finger, and by the time he has three, not even a minute has passed. Your pussy is so eager to get his attention that it feels like it’s claiming him, like it doesn’t want to let him go. And you… You can’t deny how good it is, how fucking filthy it feels to be finger fucked in the middle of the work day, in your cubicle, by tour werewolf coworker who you might or might not have a crush on.

And when he leans down and whispers against your ear: “You smell so fucking sweet. Can’t wait to eat you out.” The way he just assumes that’s gonna happen it’s what does it. As soon as he says that, you are coming around his fingers. The dirtiness of the situation making you orgasm in less than two minutes, how embarrassing. When you come down from the high he looks at you and asks softly: “Do you feel better?” You nod, too shy to say something.

He gets back to work and so do you. And it does help, you feel a lot more focused for a couple hours. But after that you go back to being restless and needy, your pussy sensitive and your panties dripping wet. This time around he goes under the table and eats you out until you are panting against your hand and your chair is so wet you have to get tissues to clean it afterwards.

That continues for a couple days. It starts only in the cubicle, but soon turns into hourly toilet trips, he tails after you like an eager puppy. It shouldn’t make you so happy, but it does. He finger fucks you, sucks your clit and pinches your nipples. He learns every single erogenous zone in your body and plays you like a fine instrument.

Every. Single. Hour.

By the third day, he suggests following you home to help you out a bit more. He goes down on you for at least three hours, making humming noises as he enjoys himself. You try to return the favor, but he stops you, going down on you once again and grunting as he jerks off while at it. You can’t think of anything more erotic than him jerking himself off with his big paw as he eats you out until his face is shiny with your juices. Having him there… Like that… It’s driving you a bit insane.

It’s the day before your heat ends when you start feeling it worse than ever, the last spike of It making you feel restless and anxious. You won’t stop moving, your legs bouncing up and down non stop and making him look at you with concern in his eyes. He fingers you under your desk once again, making you come messily as his other hand rubs your nipples over your dress. But it’s not enough, not nearly enough.

He helps you out like that two more times before you start whining. It’s too much but not nearly enough, and his concerned face only grows and grows. You don’t know what to tell him, your forehead is sweaty and your pussy is so wet you can feel it sticking to your chair. It makes you feel disgusting, but you can’t do nothing but to roll your hips in an effort to relieve some pressure, without any luck.

“Let’s get out of here,” he tells you after hearing you sigh for the thousand times in ten minutes. His eyes on you only make the heat stronger, your pussy wetter.

You look at him, your eyes unfocused, brain fuzzy. “What?” You look at him scandalized. There’s no way he’s suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.

“You need relief and I have a perfectly big car outside with tinted windows where I can knot you sweet pussy and get you more… focused.” You blush hard at his choice of words, your ears twitching at the top of your head. He’s right, you know he’s right, but you’ve never been knotted, what if…

“I’ve never been knotted,” you confess. He growls at you and you blush harder, the heat in his eyes turning molten lava when he looks down at you.

“That ends today.” He pulls at your arm and you try to suppress a giggle at his insistence. “Let’s go.”

Before you can think twice about it, or more like before your heat-fuzzy head lets you understand what’s fully happening, you are naked and spread in the back of his car. He pushes your legs against your chest, folding you almost completely and going right for your pussy. You’d never know somebody who enjoyed oral as much as him, good goddess does he love to eat pussy, specifically yours… And you can’t complain about it. He’s great at it and you are cumming before he has even two fingers inside your pussy.

When he comes back for air and looks up at you from between your legs, his face is all shiny with your juices and his perfect fucking smirk is showing all his canines, making a spark of danger grow inside of you and sending your arousal even higher.

“Please…” You beg in a broken moan, that’s the only word you can get out. Your heat-induced brain is completely off line seeing him like that, seeing him like the representation of lust and deprivacy. He’s your best wet dream turned into reality, and it’s driving you insane.

He seems to see something in your face because he’s suddenly smiling tenderly at you and unbuttoning his pants. “Okay, okay, I’ve got you.” His dick is so big, you’ve seen it before when he was jerking himself as he fingered you in the cubicle, but nothing could have prepared you for the feel of it.

He starts pushing inside slowly but surely, his dick so big you want to scream, but he covers your mouth before you can do it. He starts fucking you at a slow pace, letting you accommodate his girth, but it’s not enough. It feels like torture for you.

You urge him to go faster, harder, but it’s just a muffled moan against his palm. He seems to understand you either way, chuckling and complying. He fucks into you deep and hard, hitting your G-spot with every thrust and making your eyes roll back into your head as he grunts with every thrust.

“Are you ready?” You nod fervently, licking his hand and rolling your hips against his dick buried deep inside of you.

Your scream is muffled by his hand when the knot starts expanding in you. It’s exhilarating, way more than you expected. So big, so much, so wonderful… And then he starts coming in you and you feel every little twitch and spur of his come, making you dizzy with pleasure as you come and come and come… It feels like the longest and strongest orgasm of your life.

When the knot goes down and he helps you get back into your dress, slowly caressing your body while at it, you realize two things: 1) You could never live through a heat without a knot ever again, and 2) You might be a bit in love with your werewolf coworker.

Fuck.

Reminder that you can also commission me (info here).

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ "𝐰-𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭!? " | childe, kaeya, heizou, lyney x gn!reader

ㅤ⤷ art cr

— it's time for revenge : teasing the teasing boys back.

󠀠󠀠ㅤ⤷ DARLINNGGG, GUESS WHOS BACK FROM JAILLLLL ... gn reader, but use of adj "pretty", est. relationship childe + heizou , alcohol 󠀠󠀠and suggestive mentions in kaeya's, fluff

— ...aka , flirting back makes them malfunction. ♥

"Darling, you're so pretty today~!"

There he is — that sly little shit you call so fondly by name. Childe snakes his arms firmly around your torso, snuggling into you from behind.

It doesn't take a genius to guess he's grinning like an idiot.

(Your idiot.)

"Hm? I don't think I heard you right, say it one more time?" Glancing back at him with a cheeky smile, you hear the rumble of his laughter.

The harbinger presses a sneaky, little sideways kiss against the base of your neck, tufts of his hair tickling your jaw. "You're seriously too kissable today. Totally unfair."

He's so stupidly in love that you can't help but tease him, just a little. Changing positions, you turn around to cup the man's face. "Well, if I'm that kissable today, I guess I'll just have to keep that look going, won't I? Shall we test how fair it really is?"

There's a beat of silence. You count six seconds before he even begins to utter a choked little: "...H-huh...?"

He's so red-faced you almost feel bad. His skin is growing warmer to the touch, and he shifts his eyes, suddenly becoming a whole lot less bold than usual. Trembling slightly, he brings up a hand to hide behind, his now-meek voice reaching you.

"H-hey, who taught you that...?"

"Ah? Speak up, I can't hear you~"

"...You- You know exactly what you're doing to my heart, don't you?" He looks at you accusingly, guiding one of your hands to his chest, burying it in the fabric of his clothes. "Archons, it's beating so fast-"

"This can't be healthy, so hurry up and cure me."

"Cure?"

"..1000 kisses should fix me right up."

"To meet you once more, isn't this fate?"

Eyes that contain galaxies — and you, raise to meet yours. Kaeya smiles in a smile that's all mirth, raising a glass to let it briefly shine in the light. He stands as you enter Angel's Share, pulling back a stool at the counter.

...He wasn't a stalker, was he? This hadn't been the first time you'd met, nor the second, nor third — you'd seen this archon-forsaken man a total of seven times. Each time, the two of you had shared a drink, which always started with "ah, just one today" to you, face flushed, leaning onto the counter and spilling whatever was on your mind that day in its entirety to the man who sat beside you, listening with the occasional chuckle.

Well, it wasn't as if you found the idea of "fate" and "Kaeya" unappealing.

"I suppose that wouldn't be unbelievable." You shrug as you take your seat. "Since I've been fortunate enough to encounter you again, drinks are on me."

"My, how generous." Kaeya gestures toward his empty glass shamelessly, resting his chin on his hand leisurely. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."

You beckon Charles closer, briefly whispering something in the man's ear. The bartender nods, walking off.

"How interesting, Charles seems to be mixing two drinks. A classic choice of wine, and your favorite..." A foxy grin stretches across the man's lips. "To think you've memorized my order. Should I write you off as someone staring at me nonstop or merely attentive?"

That smooth talker, with that insufferably charming smile — surely it was time for a little revenge?

"I'd prefer the former, but think what you want."

"Oh? I'm that handsome?" (Is it the dim lighting that makes Kaeya's face seem a little more red than usual? )

"You are."

You state it blatantly, as it is. As if Kaeya weren't expecting such a blunt answer, he suddenly clams up, coughing into his fist in a terribly not nonchalant manner. "You... don't tell me, have you already been drinking? What's with you today?"

"What, is speaking the truth suddenly such a surprise?"

"...You said all drinks were on you, yeah?"

Changing the topic? "Mhm, whatever you want."

It's hard to miss the way Kaeya's gaze burns.

"Then, round two at my place?"

"You're way too distracting, how am I supposed to get any work done when all I want to do is kiss you?"

And there it is, Heizou's twenty-second kiss of the day, this time pressed lightly on the bridge of your nose. Here you were, expecting the cool-headed man to be able to hold himself back during detective work.

You'd expected far too much.

"Heizou, you're the one who agreed to me accompanying you. No use in complaining now."

"Ah, that's where you're mistaken, love! Complaints are perfect excuses for kisses, you know." The twenty-third, on your left cheek, and the twenty-fourth, on the other.

"Heizou."

He tilts his head upwards, staring at you cheekily. "Hm?"

"Revenge." You cup his face. His pink cheeks are squishy, and you resist the urge to pinch them.

"...Pardo-"

You kiss him on the lips.

Heizou makes a noise of surprise, slightly jumping under your touch. He quivers for a moment, then goes stock still.

Seems like you've stumped the detective.

One kiss is all it took.

As you pull away, you're able to witness the absolute mess you've created. The Shikanoin Heizou's at an utter loss for words, his lips parted but words long gone. His cheeks, the tips of his ears, the back of his neck; he's so red-faced you can't help but laugh.

"My, that's all it took to render you speechless?"

There's a twinkle in his spring-green eyes as he gazes at you, shaking his head slyly. "Nope-! Not rendered speechless just yet- although..."

"...One hundred more kisses might do the trick?"

"A pretty flower for the prettiest of them all, mon chéri~"

A rainbow rose drawn from a sleeve, a pair of sly amethyst eyes, a cattish smile, and a smooth voice: Lyney greets you — or more so catches and stops you on the road. Something of a highway robbery, except this "thief" is more skilled in capturing hearts than valuables.

His hand snags onto your forearm, making no move to let go. "You player, don't tell me you say this to any pretty face that passes by?"

At the raise of your brow, Lyney feigns hurt. "You wound me, to assume such a thing... just how little trust you have for me?"

"Admittedly not a lot, Sir..." You scan him up and down with a scrutinizing gaze; You were sure you had seen the guy somewhere before. "...Magician?"

"Lyney."

"...Lyney, considering you've stopped me on the side of the road, it'd be daring to even call us acquaintances, no?"

"Acquaintances..." Lyney ponders the thought like it's enjoyable. "I can work with that~ Since we've been acquainted, won't you take the rose already?"

Partly due to his insistence, and partly due to pity, you accept the flower from his hold, not failing to notice the way his eyes twinkle. "Say," he begins, moving his hands back to his sides. "Do you happen to know what roses mean in the language of the flowers?"

You blink at him, rather unamused. "Sorry to disappoint, but I can't speak to plants."

Lyney, unexpectedly, grows silent. You see his cheeks puff outward, attempting to suppress a laugh. "I see," he speaks, breathily, like he is midway between a laugh and a word. "Love, beauty, perfection, wouldn't you say it fits you wonderfully?"

"...You have my thanks?"

Lyney's eyes are the shape of almonds, and when he smiles, the edges of them crinkle. "Not much of a charmer, are you?"

Is that a challenge?

"Then," you drop your voice a pitch lower, straightening your shoulders. "You have my thanks, mon beau." Combo attack: winking and blowing a kiss, you depart the scene as soon as possible for added mystery.

(You had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time you saw him.)

Now standing alone on the side of the street, eyes wide, finger playing with his side-swept bangs, utterly speechless and red-faced, Lyney's heart raced like it was to leap out of his chest.

"...Haha, what sort of magic is this?"

(a/n) this has been in drafts since like,, janurary. SOBBING.

look out for an announcement in a lil bit ^^

tags :

@manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima

[peachysunrize]

MDNI! word count: 890

Nerd!Aemond who is shameless when he eats you out in the corner of the library, his head buried under your short skirt and between your thighs while he sucks on your clit.

He is patient with how he drags the tip of his pink skillful tongue between your wet folds, soft thin lips closing around the bundle of nerves before he makes a delicious suction on them, making you bite on the sleeve of the hoodie you stole from him today.

You push your hips up, hand reaching down to tangle in his neatly brushed and tied hair, pushing him further into your eager pussy, and he doesn’t back away from it. Quite the opposite in fact, he dives down more, smothering his face with the scent and taste of your wetness, his stupid rectangle-shaped glasses digging into the flesh of your thighs.

You moan as he tightens his grip around you, pulling you on the edge of the table so he can have better access to your aching cunt. Aemond opens his good eye, dragging his gaze from your pelvis up to your flustered face while he opens his mouth to bite on your mound, relishing how you squeal and throw your head back, one hand coming down on the table harshly.

Your eyes widen at the loud sound you made, but Aemond seems unbothered as he places your legs on his broad shoulders pulling you impossibly closer before he brings his hand down to your pussy lips, humming at the sight of your hole clenching and unclenching around nothing.

You look down at him; lips parted, breathless and worried about getting caught, but you don’t wish to stop him at all. Not when his glorious chin is glistening with your juices, his bright blue eyes shine with mischief even from behind the fog on his glasses.

“Stop staring!” You hiss at him, biting your bottom lip when his eye meets yours, a huge grin forming on his face as he slowly circles your entrance with his pointer finger.

“Why?” He asks, resting his head on your inner thigh while you reach to play with his hair, caressing his forehead while he wraps his arms around your waist, “I’m simply worshiping my dumb girl.”

“I’m not dumb!” You flick his forehead, whispering angrily at him, “Not everyone can get these stupid chemistry questions right like you!”

“That’s why we are here, to study,” he smirks, leaning down to prep your inner thigh with kisses, sucking and biting a path leading to your weeping cunt, “But you were dumb enough to fall into my trap, baby.”

“It’s not my fault you look stupidly handsome and can make a puddle out of me with your words,” you groan, closing your eyes and pressing your lips into a thin line as soon as he brings his finger to your hole, “You’re a fucking dick, you promised you’ll help me study!”

“What can I say? All this academic stress should be relieved somehow, right?” He whispers against your cunt, pushing a digit inside, sucking on your clit while he stares at your twisted face, “Otherwise I can’t help you pass your exam.”

No more words are exchanged and he shifts his focus on the task at hand, closing his eye before he pushes his nose against your nerves, thrusting his finger in and out of you slowly.

Moans are threatening to spill out of your mouth as soon as he adds another finger, curling them immediately as he fucks you with them at a fast pace, making a filthy lewd sound echo in the quiet library.

The feeling of his tongue lapping at your throbbing clit and his fingers massaging your sweet spot is enough to make your legs shake. You arch your back, one hand slapping against your lips and the other holding you up while you wrap your thighs around his head, locking him between your legs as you gush over his face, coating him in your juices.

“Hmmm,” he gives your clit one last kiss before he rests his chin on your lower belly, looking up at you with a shit-eating grin as he pulls his fingers out slowly, “Sweet as ever, my star pupil.” “I—”

“Targaryen!” 

Your eyes widen, and you jump down from the desk, fixing your skirt as best as possible before sitting next to Aemond, crossing your legs as one of the Library ladies steps in your aisle.

“Keep quiet!” She hisses at Aemond, and he nods and smiles, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin he pulled out from your bag, watching as she gives the two of you a pointed look before leaving you alone once more.

“That was so fucking close, Aemond!” you slap his shoulder, still breathless and flustered by your mind-blowing orgasm, “Academic stress my ass, we were nearly caught!”

“Fuckin’ hell, come here,” he grabs you by the nape of your neck, bringing you close until he can press his lips to yours, “I needed an energy boost before I could sit here for hours and try to teach you how biochem works.”

“I thought we were studying chemistry!” You gasp, looking at the wrong books you have brought with you.

“My dumb star pupil,” he chuckles lowly, grabbing your hand before you can pinch him.

“Asshole!”

[euthymiya]

female reader ; non curse au ; established relationship ; reader lays on sukuna ; written bc i’m moving and can’t help but imagine sharing an apartment with him (i want someone to help me carry heavy boxes with flexing muscles as i take in the view)

“I can’t find the box with my bras,” you whine. It’s miserable, the look on your face. It fills Sukuna with unbridled joy as he cracks a thickly amused grin.

“Good,” he grunts in approval, “you don’t need them, anyway.”

“I do,” you glare. It takes all of three seconds before the reality dawns on you—and then he’s snickering as your glare becomes harsher. “You put it somewhere, didn’t you?” You accuse him through narrowed eyes.

“Me? I’d never.”

“I should’ve known moving in with you was a mistake,” you snap, “I’m moving back.”

“Too late. We paid for the moving truck.”

“Well, technically you paid for the moving truck,” you correct him, letting your lips stretch into a smug grin.

He scowls, rolling his eyes before slumping onto the bed with a groan. You follow him, curling up beside him as your head finds his chest and his arm tucks under your body to cocoon you closer. You inhale, he exhales, and even if your paces don’t match, your uneven breaths form a pretty solid rhythm.

“I’m gonna need my bras,” you insist.

“Fine,” he grumbles, “I’ll get the box from my trunk later. I’m tired, woman.”

“We still have to unpack—”

“There’s plenty of time for that,” he clicks his teeth in distaste. “I need rest—I did all the heavy lifting, since someone refused.”

“It’s what the man is for,” you hum cheekily.

“So then why didn’t you do it?” He raises a brow. You shoot him an unimpressed look at his smart comment, a tight lipped, sarcastic smile splaying on your lips as you let out a humorless chuckle.

“You’re right,” you nod seriously, “it’s my job to treat the lady right. Sorry you had to sprain your back with my boxes, princess,” you pat his cheek.

“The fuck are you on about?” The look of pure disgust on his face makes you break out into giggles, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he grumbles something incoherently under his breath. You hear bits and fragments of it. Something along the lines of such a handful and give me migraines that you don’t fully catch, but they manage to amuse you all the same.

“You’re pretty enough to play the part,” you hum, shifting your body to roll on top of his. You hover over him, and Sukuna lets out a dramatic grunt. You pretend—and it’s only out of the goodness of your heart—that his cheeks aren’t slightly rosy from the comment you made.

“You’re heavy,” he says (to which you gasp, offended) as he squeezes your ass (you gasp again and smack his chest this time) and shoots you a grin with no shame (you stare for just a strict second—and a strict second only—at his dimples).

“Don’t lie,” you huff, “that’s an insult to that gym regimen of yours.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He asks smugly, mouth curving in that ridiculously annoying, yet stupidly handsome way as he adds, “bet you’re eye-fuckin’ me through that mirror as I life weights all the time.”

“I’m too busy worrying about those shaky arms giving out and leaving you to die under the weight.”

“Very funny,” he scowls, “you could pay our rent with stand up comedy alone.”

“Being my princess isn’t enough? Now you need to be my sugar-baby, too?”

“Enough,” he hisses, one hand coming to your face to keep you away as you break into a fit of laughs and try to give him a cheeky peck to the lips. “Stay away from me.”

“No, we’re roomies now.”

“We are not roommates,” he says, irritated by the idea. “That sounds like we’re fuckin’ strangers.”

“You’re right,” you nod thoughtfully, “I guess we can call it two mutually benefiting individuals that have decided to split costs to save money on a living space in an unforgivingly harsh economy—”

“You talk too much,” he mutters. And mainly just to shut you up (but maybe, perhaps, possibly for one of the mutual benefits, too), his hand grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. You cut yourself off by letting out a muffled gasp as his tongue presses against yours—messy, heated, and surprisingly gentle.

“Well, that was rather passionate. You know what they say about roommates,” you wiggle your brows as you pull away. He purses his lips in an agitated expression as he glares at your stubborn word choice.

“Stop callin’ me your fuckin’ roommate,” he demands.

You laugh. It’s soft—a light, airy noise. The sound bounces off the walls that are his and yours and echoes along the space between your pressed-up bodies. Along the boxes littered across the floor and the suitcases lined up in the corner. Along the clothes you insisted you needed that he hasn’t seen you wear in months as they lay in a heap on his closet floor. Along the kitchen table where you’ll have breakfast, and the living room where you’ll watch movies, and the bathroom sink where you’ll fight over space to brush your teeth.

He’ll never tell you directly (because he has dignity, of course) but he could really get used to living somewhere that houses a sound like that. A sound that makes him realize the difference between the space he lives in, and the place he calls home.

Home, he thinks to himself for a moment. Home is where your laugh echoes, ringing obnoxiously in his ear. Sukuna doesn’t think any living space will ever be the same again without it.

“Since we live together now—” you murmur, breaking him from his thoughts as you lean in to peck his lips. He hums in a rare, soft, content little sound that you don’t get to hear too often. “—I can finally decorate your plain ass apartment.”

His brows scrunch in horror as he registers your words. “Absolutely not—”

“Muah,” you cut him off with another peck to his mouth, “I’m thinking earthy tones, what about you?”

——————————

I carried like 20 something heavy ass boxes to and from my car nonstop today and every time I felt my poor arms get sore, I thought: wouldn’t it be so nice to have someone like sukuna and his four arms to do all the work while I sit and look gorgeous? He doesn’t have four arms in this fic, but that’s honestly his problem not mine. Just carry the damn boxes I’m just a girl

[lxnarphase]

PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★

━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)

suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.

he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.

it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.

neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.

your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him. 

and he loves it so damn much.

"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..." 

the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.

not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.

no, it's because people are watching.

his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.

their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.

but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.

it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.

you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.

if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.

yet.

"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."

his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.

fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.

pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.

man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.

it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.

you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.

jesus, the things you do to this man.

"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."

the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.

you're so warm...

"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.

"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"

the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.

a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.

with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.

"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"

you know better.

you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.

because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.

you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.

"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.

suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.

and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.

with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.

"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy

"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.

but where's the fun in life without taking risks?

"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."

one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.

they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.

"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."

he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.

the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.

the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.

nah, right now, this is about you.

he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.

without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.

"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.

"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.

he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.

how can you not get soaking wet?

"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.

he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.

the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.

on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....

another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.

if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.

"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.

"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.

this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.

one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.

however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.

"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.

the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."

you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.

suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

you let him get away with way too much, don't you?

the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.

"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."

your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.

one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.

seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.

knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.

"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."

you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”

you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.

but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?

if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.

it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.

he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"

he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.

you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!

"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.

but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.

"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"

"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.

your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.

suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.

"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"

he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.

"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."

your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.

if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.

once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.

pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.

"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"

"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"

of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.

the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—

"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."

your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff @charming-chikara @actuallynarii @ninikrumbs @inette04 @paint-eater2 @haesify @shaguro

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — sometimes satoru uses his technique to tease you, even though he’s the one who always seems to give in first.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! fluff, just satoru being a menace, some smooches! that’s all me thinks! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! he’s been on my mind so often, i’m being attacked with all of these thoughts of him <3

“satoru i swear, put it down!” you whine before you frown up at your ridiculously tall boyfriend, he’s wearing a lopsided grin and you’d take great delight in kissing it off of his stupidly handsome face if you could get passed his even more stupid infinity technique.

“oh? you can ask nicer than that, sweet girl.” gojo goads as he leans over you, deliberately close because he knows you can’t close the distance. he liked teasing you like this, liked seeing the way you would pout and groan whenever he did, he liked the way you wanted to touch him— to kiss him, to love him. so he took great pride in seeing you get a little wound up in your want for it.

“satoru!” you hiss as you push into him again, a little closer than last but still not enough to feel the warm press of his skin against yours. he tilts his head as you call his name, his crystalline gaze narrowing as he scratches at his snowy hair, and you give him another sharp frown before you stomp over to drop yourself on the sofa instead.

“come on~ can’t you just tell your good looking boyfriend you want a kiss, hm? just gotta ask.” gojo hums as he follows you, only needing a few long strides before the cushion next to you is dipping under his weight and he’s letting his arm rest behind you— so close yet so far.

“you’re so annoying.” you huff again as you turn to face away from him, refusing to make eye contact this time because you know he’s wearing one of his more handsome grins, one that you know he does deliberately to lure you in— to make you crave the press of his lips with yours. just so he can take it away so rudely.

“don’t be like that. my lips feel so cold, i’ll die here.” gojo’s pouting now, like it’s not his fault he’s still not gotten his kiss. he lets his head fall and rest back against the couch as he groans, whining about how cruel you’re being, hurting his feelings and rejecting his love like this.

“yeah well so do mine!” you retort back quickly and you feel a vein pop when he chuckles, trying to hide it behind another smirk when you shoot him a sharp look from over your shoulder, inching yourself further away on the couch.

but gojo can only resist your adorable little frown for so long himself.

“hm? then you know what to do, let me hear you..” his words take a lower sort of drawl as he follows you along the space, easing himself into your side until you can finally feel the warm press of his skin— finally releasing his technique enough for him to be able to press kisses along your shoulder blades.

but you’re far too petty to give into him now.

gojo groans when you keep yourself facing away from him, his lips making their way from your shoulders, to your neck, then across your jawline before he’s peppering a few sweet kisses to your cheeks and giving you a soft look from underneath his pretty lashes, “..or are you gonna leave me here to suffer?”

“can i have a kiss, satoru.” you mumble between your lips, giving him an inch when you feel his hands press into the dip of your waist— his touch so warm you can’t help but melt into it as you feel him smile against your skin, smugly you’re sure.

“oh, didn’t hear you, baby. little louder f’ me.” you groan at that, and gojo squeezes you closer— pressing you into his chest as he leaves a soft kiss at the corner of your lips, so close to where you want it, to where he needs it. he’s held out for long enough, he’s pretty satisfied with his teasing now.

“can i please have a kiss, satoru.” you finally give in and he’s on you immediately as he presses his lips to yours, exhaling like he’s been starved of you for months. your lips part and he takes that as an invitation as he pushes his tongue between them, groaning when your own comes to meet him and he already feels lightheaded as he closes his lips to suckle languidly.

another few moments, blissfully dreamy moments with your lips on his— his hands are on your hips now and your fingers are in his hair, pressing deeper into eachother as your mouth moves with his. he pulls away to breathe, as much as it pains him, despite the way hes kiss drunk and flushed— already leaning in for more.

“see? was that so hard? always holding out on me. so mean~”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[l0vergirls]

just a little something that's been on my mind for a while now, like it's actually rotting my brain.

cw: stalking, a bit nsfw near the end, just general yandere stuff, not proof-read!!!!! so sorry if its a bit messy !!!!

★ (romantic) yandere!batfam x reader

imagine being the shared darling of the batfam.

it only takes one of them for the rest to fall in love with you, too.

let's say you meet tim during one of the days he actually decides to go to class, and he's thanking the heavens he did.

slowly, he starts to integrate himself into your daily life, and into your friend group. they all love him, of course. who wouldn't love the kind, funny, and handsome tim drake?

during all of this, he'd already told his brothers about you, and because they can't hide anything from bruce, he finds out about you too. unsurprisingly, they come to appreciate you as much as tim has.

and suddenly, you get a particularly handsome new neighbour in the apartment across from you (which you didn't know was even up for rent) and somehow always seems to be in the middle of stripping when you're home. almost as if he can feel your eyes on him. of course, you make sure not to get caught, and avert your eyes as soon as the cloth leaves his waist.

later, you find out his name is jason, and make a good friend out of him. he smokes on his balcony, while you drink coffee on yours.

barely a week after that, you get a new regular at the café you work at. his name's dick grayson. he says it's probably best for you to yell out his last name for his orders too. he's a detective, which explains the late nights he comes into the café. he's always got a stupidly handsome smile on his face, which only adds onto his neverending charm.

and during the occasion that you're walking home alone, you always seem to run into one of the many vigilantes that guard gotham.

you meet both batman and robin during one of your walks home. you're not scared of them, as most people are; you're merely fascinated at the tall figure that towers over you, and his more colourful counterpart that is also taller than you. robin seems to be just a couple years younger than you. and batman... you can't seem to get a read on the man.

you greet them both as calmly as you can, a small smile on your lips. you get nods of acknowledgment from both of them, which you suppose is the most you're getting.

batman doesn't seem to like that you're walking alone, so he sends robin to walk you home. you don't understand why, and you tell them you've walked this route many times already, that they probably have worse things to take care of.

he tells you that you can never be too sure in gotham. with the way he says it, in that gravelly tone, you can't find yourself to disagree.

on your walk, now with robin's company, you feel safer. you also find out this robin is a man of few words, very unlike the last few robins yet much like batman.

the next night, you run into red robin, who has an air of familiarity around him. he's real friendly— in fact, it's almost like talking to a friend. you think you've seen his smile before.

the night after that, you meet nightwing in all of his spandex-clad glory. he's charming, almost flirty.

and for a week, you don't bump into any of the vigilantes, but you do feel watched. you should be frightened, by all means, but you have a feeling deep in your stomach that tells you they won't hurt you. whoever they are.

you see red hood after that week. he's the more intimidating one of the bunch, you reckon. you've nothing to be scared of, knowing he (along with all the others) only goes after the real awful people. you're not guilty of anything, as far as you know.

his voice is almost robotic, as if being run through a voice changer. it doesn't do much to help his image, though you suppose that's the point. he asks what a little thing like you is doing walking around these parts. you say you're just heading home, like all the times you've met one of them.

he lets you on his motorcycle. if you were paying enough attention, maybe you would've felt his heart beating a mile a minute.

your days go on like this for a while. class, work, walk home with one of gotham's protectors. rinse and repeat.

unbeknownst to you, cameras have been planted all around your apartment. in many angles of your bedroom too, save for your bathroom. they've decided to give you privacy in there. no matter how much dick begged.

though they do have clips saved of you walking around in just a towel, or your underwear. god knows what they're doing with those.

but truly, can you blame them? you've invaded the deepest crevices of their minds, your smell lingering on their noses, and the shape of your lips following them in their dreams.

oh, they can vividly see— almost feel your lips on theirs, and they wonder what you look like when your face is scrunched up from pleasure, as their fingers enter you.

but they'll have to wait a little longer. and they'll be damned if they lose you, when you're playing right into their hands.

this got so long !!!! i had to let this all out somewhere <//3 definitely gonna add more but i needed to cut it off at this 😭😭😭😭

[hoshiros]

—✯ KNEE SOCKS

AM Masterlist

cw. 18+ mdni. afab!reader, phone/video sex, established relationship, lingerie, masturbation, HAPPY SAE DAY

"Three."

ITOSHI SAE watches both in fascination and bitter pride as you choke on your own spit. Your nail slowly taps against the side of the vibrator, clicking in the microphone.

Sae clicks his tongue impatiently when you pout at him through the camera, glaring at his stupidly handsome face. "At least let me catch my breath," you glower, burrowing your head against the pillow beneath your cheek.

"Stop stalling. Three."

"Wait—"

"You don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

You seem to contemplate his words for a moment, casting him a shy, tentative glance before you shake your head. The silky lingerie hugging your body slips when you adjust yourself, and Sae can't help the way his eyes gravitate toward the extra flesh spilling over the edge of your thigh-highs.

He grunts, giving himself a squeeze through his sweats at the show. You hesitantly increase the speed of the vibe to three and sputter, pulling it away from your clit in surprise before slowly drawing it against you again.

Some people would think that Sae's favourite view is a vast green pitch crawling with talent. Others would think that it's the sea, wide and sparkling under the sun.

All those idiots are wrong.

His favourite view would always be you on your knees, fists pulled tight around whatever you can grab, face pushed down—helpless and wanting him more than anything in the world. Nothing makes his blood boil hotter.

"Wish you were—" your words tumble into nonsense, high-pitched babbles and whines until the toy slips a little, giving you a chance to speak. "Wish you were here."

"Yeah? Greedy girl, can't get enough, hm?"

"S’not as good without you," you sniffle, feet kicking up and down. They thud softly against the mattress as you writhe, forcing yourself to look at the camera.

The thing Sae hates the most about Spain is that he's confined to a video chat. His fingers twitch, instinctively wanting to reach out to grab you by the hips and give you that little extra help he knows you need.

"I know you can do it," he croons, and through the video you can see his head tilt to the side almost mockingly. "Or do you need me to fuck you that bad?"

You hiccup and shake your head again, pulling your knees closer to your body and angling yourself better for him to see. He almost smiles at the sight—that constant determination he adores so much about you.

The new angle makes you breathless, face turning into the pillow as you gasp and squeal. Sae was more careful with his ministrations than you were with this stupid piece of plastic. 

"That's it," he presses, hips jutting against the fabric of his own pants to try and find some friction. "So pretty."

You cry and cry and cry, voice breaking the longer play with yourself. "Sae," you pant, muffled by the pillow. "Sae... Wanna cum, please? Can I?"

He hums low, agonizingly indecisive. Then, finally,

"Go on."

It only takes a few seconds before you sob, feet kicking again while you cum. Sae is about to laugh when you shake so hard the propped-up phone almost topples over. It gets caught in his throat when you pull the toy away and he can see the slick glistening down its side in the light.

Sae is transfixed. His fingers slip past the elastic of his waist band before he can stop himself and he lets out the tiniest of groans when he squeezes his length proper.

Sticky cum coats his thumb when he swipes over the tip with it, but it's not enough. He needs more. He'd always need more of you—maybe even more than you needed him.

He would never admit that to you, though.

"Again."

[bokunoheros]

ཐིཋྀ KINKTOBER DAY 7 - begging : neito monoma

warnings : overstim, sex toys, sadistic monoma, monoma calls reader princess, afab reader, reader is in class 1-A, bondage, dorm sex

word count : 850

🐙 note : monoma’s personality is so……. unique

you truly do not know how you got here, in bed with neito monoma of all fucking people. to say you dislike him is an understatement, you simply cannot stand him. his stupidly big ego and ridiculously handsome face was troublesome, and yet, you found yourself always looking his way; he knew this, naturally, and would bring it up whenever you were around just to annoy the ever living shit out of you. oh, how you hated him! he was nothing short of an arrogant and eccentric prick who loved to flaunt his achievements. luckily for you, being in class 1-A gave you an advantage over him, always holding it over his head that you were in the better class with more talented students.

and now here you lie in monoma’s dorm room tied to his bed with a vibrator on your clit and one right up against your g-spot. you squirm and wiggle trying to free yourself from the restraints and torture placed upon your body, monoma sits on the edge of the bed with his arms crossed and a gigantic, stupid grin on his face.

“what’s this about being better than me? i thought you class A students were supposed to have much better stamina! just look at how you’ve fallen from grace!”

the worst part: he was 100% right. you were expected to have better stamina than only being able to take two orgasms and yet here you are whining on the verge of a third, you can’t help the way your body spasms and reacts to his cocky words like a bitch in heat. monoma pities you as you lay on his bed practically crying and unable to do anything about what he’s giving you.

“let—ah fuck!—hnnng, let me—let me go dammit!”

“beg.”

excuse me? beg? did this rat just tell you to beg? what kind of request is that? after tying you up and torturing orgasms out of you he’s making you beg to be released? he’s straight up cruel and just when you thought he couldn’t get any worse.

“you heard me, beg for it.”

as if you would ever! you can’t stand to give him the satisfaction, even if it’s too much. even if your pussy is throbbing and aching, even if you can hardly hold in your mewls and whimpers about how it’s too much. you may not have the stamina to withstand climax after climax but neito monoma has another thing coming if he thinks you aren’t persistent enough to keep yourself from begging.

“i’d rather—haaah! i’d rather die than—fuck, fuck! i’d rather die—ahhh! than give you the sa-satisfaction!”

he almost seems surprised, his eyes widen just the slightest and he wonders what in the world he’ll do with you.

“fine. maybe this will convince you.”

he reaches over and increases the speed on the vibrator. you cry out, throwing your head back and squeezing your eyes shut. oh it hurts, it hurts so bad but it feels so, so good. you squirm even more making monoma laugh, he leans in close to your face and grabs your cheeks with one hand. slamming his lips into yours he reaches up to your tits and tweaks at your nipples with his other hand making you moan into his mouth, he slips his tongue in and explores your mouth as you desperately try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“mmm, come on now princess don’t be like that. just enjoy it won’t you?”

you can hardly think, your brain is overloaded with all the sensations you’re experiencing. from the vibrator to your puffy nipples to monoma’s tongue fighting yours, you almost find yourself begging. but you don’t, you hold on and bite your tongue (metaphorically).

“kill yourself—” your back arches and you thrash against your restraints as you choke out a moan and threat all at once, tears spilling down your flushed cheeks from the overstimulation. “go to hell!”

“now, now—telling someone to kill themselves? that doesn’t sound very heroic to me,” the egotistical blonde laughs out. he was just pushing your buttons at this point, making fun of your poor situation. “now, take back what you just said and beg like i told you to, and then maybe i’ll let you go.”

you glare at him, but your heart isn’t in it. and monoma? he can tell. he hums to himself, getting up from the bed and heading toward the door.

“wait! don’t–! don’t leave me here, please, neito, please—fuck!”

he turns, a smile on his face and an eyebrow raised.

“what was that lovely? i didn't quite hear you.” his voice is sing-songy and mocking

“please, please let me go. i can’t—hnnng— can’t take anymore!” you do your best to sound desperate and you pout, jutting your lips out and trying to give puppy dog eyes.

“there you go, good girl.”

finally, finally monoma let you go. he gently pulls out the vibrator and unties you, rubbing your wrists softly. the switch is surprising, the usual cocky and sarcastic monoma is gone and replacing him was a kind and gentle monoma. perhaps he wasn’t so bad after all.

[jeonsweetpea]

Devoted to Trouble

Spider-Man!AU | Peter Parker!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst

rating: explicit

description: In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world?

word count: 11.5k

warnings: Seven JK… need I say more? JK being a SIMP, JK being a flirt, the entirety of the Seven MV being Peter Parker/Spider-Man coded, JK being a dork, JK is persistent and annoying but in an endearing way, fake death, cursing, the most respectable fuck boy!JK, he just loves you so much

smut warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), standing 69, dirty talk, protected sex, face-riding, breast play, strength kink, standing sex, missionary, serpent’s embrace, that line from his working out live, multiple orgasms, sir kink, 

a/n: Hello! IT IS DONE. My two loves combined in one, Spider-Man + Jungkook! I just love the idea of JK being such an unserious Spider-Man/Peter Parker who only loves you and wants you and voila! He is your lovesick loser. :))) I sure hope you love him as much as I do. Feel free to let me know what you think! Thank you for reading. 

Monday

You didn’t know why you bothered dressing up for dinner when the end goal was to turn Jungkook down. After his identity was revealed to the public (source unknown), panic set in, and you realized that a future together was not possible. However, out of courtesy, you decided not to flake on the date after promising him. The boy was ecstatic, and deep down, you suspected his ego loved the fact he won over someone like you, who had consistently turned him down.

As you approached the restaurant door, someone unexpectedly rushed past you to open it himself. Startled by the sudden action, you jumped in surprise. 

“Jungkook? Oh my god, you scared me!” you exclaimed. He offered an apologetic smile, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. You noticed his heavy breathing, wondering if he had exerted himself. “Did you run here?”

“Yeah, I was stopping a heist nearby and didn’t want you to wait long,” he replied.

Your heart softened at his thoughtfulness, but it also served as a reminder of why a future together would be challenging. “You didn’t have to waste your stamina. I just got here.”

“Trust me, babe. I have plenty of stamina.” 

His mischievous grin earned an eye roll from you as you entered the restaurant. Following closely behind, he effortlessly secured a table for the two of you, thanks to his well-established reputation. The table was smack dab in the middle of the restaurant, where guests took advantage and began gawking and whispering about you two. You did your best to ignore them while Jungkook hurriedly pulled out your chair and took his place across from you. 

“Thank you.”

It was impossible to ignore his striking appearance. He exuded an irresistible charm in his black leather jacket and white graphic tee, his long hair partially parted, his lip piercing accentuating his stupidly handsome face. He was pure temptation, staring you straight in the face, but you had to remain strong.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he commented, his gaze momentarily glancing at your cleavage before meeting your eyes once more. You scoffed, though deep down you knew the dress you hugged your figure perfectly. 

“Really? My boobs?” you retorted.

“What? Am I not supposed to admire them when they’re so perfect and right in front of me?” he playfully responded. 

“At least try to be subtle.”

“I don’t want to be. There’s no reason to hide my appreciation when I’m in the presence of someone so beautiful. I want you to know that every single day.”

A rush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “Thank you. You’re… pretty beautiful yourself.”

“Aw, thanks,” he quipped, executing a dramatic hair flip. “I know.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, eliciting a smile from him. He took joy in making you laugh. However, you quickly cleared your throat, keeping your objective in mind. 

“So Jungkook um… I have something to tell you,” you began. 

“Okay, cool. I do too.”

“I want to go first. I—”

Unfortunately, the waiter interrupted at that moment, inquiring about your drink preferences. Jungkook swiftly ordered two glasses of red wine and then refocused his attention on you.

“You were saying?”

“I um… I need a drink. Let me have a drink first before I say anything,” you nervously said, mentally kicking yourself for being such a chicken. 

“Okay, then can I go first?”

“Sure.”

“Will you be my girlfriend? Like officially?”

The question caught you off guard, causing you to almost choke on nothing. You hadn’t anticipated him asking that until after the date. Damn. He was derailing your plan. 

As the waiter came back with the two glasses of wine and placed them on the table, he asked you what you wanted to eat. Jungkook asked for a moment to look over the menu before the waiter left. 

“So? What do you say?” he asked, flashing you that cheeky grin of his. You had to stand up for yourself and express your true feelings to him. This was a waste of time and he had to understand that, despite what your heart desired. 

“Jungkook, I came here for one reason and one reason only.”

He lowered his head and shook it, sensing that whatever you were about to say wouldn't be something he wanted to hear. “Uh oh, this doesn’t sound good. The date just started, love. Did I do something wrong? Was I too forward?”

"No, well, yes, but that's not the point. I just—this is a waste of time. It won’t work out between us,” you stammered. 

He raised his head, still shaking his head in denial. “How do you know if we don’t try?”

“I’m not interested in being in a relationship.”

“Really? Is that so?”

“Yes, it is so. We’re done.”

He narrowed his eyes and chuckled, amused by your determination. “Break me off another time, darling. Let’s see how the evening goes first, hmm?”

You had to fight that tingle in your body every time he called you a nickname. “Let me make it crystal clear. I am not interested in being with a superhero.”

“Ah, there it is. Babe, don’t worry. I won’t let my Spider-Man duties affect us.”

You rested your elbows on the table and gestured with your hands as you expressed your frustrations.

“But they will. Sorry, but superheroes aren’t boyfriend material. They always end up suffering. I don’t want to spend everyday worrying about you getting hurt or possibly dying. Shoot, I don’t want to die. You’re not even the slightest bit worried about your enemies coming here right now? I’m afraid for my life!”

You observed his face for any sign of a reaction, noticing his eyes wandering the room as his lips moved slightly. Straining your ears, you could hear him humming the tune of the song playing in the restaurant.

“Are you seriously singing right now?!” you asked, enraged at him not taking you seriously. In that instant, some of the lights flickered and the ground trembled, causing the wine glasses on the shelves in the back to wobble. Another powerful shake startled the elderly couple at the table next to yours, prompting them to stand up in shock.

Jungkook stopped humming and offered you a warm smile. “Sorry, it was a catchy song. I was listening.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Yes, I was. Babe, nothing’s going to happen to you. I’ll make sure of that.”

“You can’t be sure of that. You’re not psychic.”

“No, but I’m Spider-Man. I’ll protect you. Look, I get it. It’s scary and I know you’ve been let down before in the past from other guys. But I’ll love you right.” The way he spoke with a pout was killing you.

“No. It won’t work out.”

“... Then let me fuck you right,” You gave him a judgemental glare and he added on, “All day everyday. Seven days a week.”

He even put up seven fingers to emphasize his point. 

“Okay, that’s a big proposition that not even you could fulfill.”

“Well let me fulfill that sweet pussy of yours tonight and you’ll see.”

“Good god, Jeon! How are you so nonchalant about your identity being revealed?!”

You found yourself leaning back in your chair, utterly stunned, as a chandelier plummeted from the ceiling. The resounding crash failed to startle either of you because of how engrossed you were in the conversation. Jungkook shrugged at your question. 

“Because, at the end of the day, I’m still me. I’m human. I pay rent, I buy groceries—living my life like any other person. I’m not letting this identity thing stop me from doing what I love. Which hopefully includes you in this case,” he replied with a flirtatious wink. 

Frustration mixed with a tinge of concern welled up within you as you rose from your seat. He had just dropped the “L” word and so casually too. You didn’t know how to handle it. In that moment, a much larger explosion erupted directly behind you, causing you to cower in fear. Although the debris lightly brushed against your back, you stumbled. However, Jungkook swiftly caught you in his lap, flashing a bright smile as if this was a normal occurrence. Which for him, sure, but not for you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You bit your lip, struggling to articulate your thoughts into a coherent sentence and decided to leave. Jungkook followed, reaching out and grabbing your shoulder. In frustration, you spun around, attempting to shake him off.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about!”

“Are you okay?” he repeated, his voice taking on a more earnest tone. 

“... Yes. But we won’t work out. I’m sorry.”

This time, you exited the restaurant, and Jungkook let you. Then, he used his web shooters to leap through the hole created by the explosion, determined to put an end to whoever was causing the chaos. 

Tuesday

The next morning you swiftly prepared for work and hurried to the train station. As luck would have it, the doors opened for you just in time as a herd of people got off. You seized the opportunity to hop on and secured the first available seat you saw.

Putting on an earbud and playing some calming music, you closed your eyes and gathered your thoughts, which were primarily of one person—Jungkook. Of course you wanted to be with him. He was everything a girl would want. 

You had initially met him at a friend’s birthday party, where his flirtatious nature was hard to miss. Yes, he had a reputation and had been around a lot, but that didn’t bother you much. Sometimes you wished you had the guts to separate love and sex like that, but you couldn’t. For you, intimacy was intertwined with emotional connection and a shared future.

And Jungkook wasn't like that, it seemed. Of course he was fun to talk to, you had even exchanged numbers that night. Because of his constant advances, you sensed that he might only be interested in a physical relationship. That thought made you apprehensive, so you turned him down twice (yes, it took every ounce of strength in your body to do so) to prevent getting too close. 

“I don’t do one-night stands, Jeon.”

“Can you do seven-night stands?”

“I can’t stand you.”

“But I really like you.”

Nevertheless, Jungkook remained a great friend who was there for you when you needed him, despite his constant advances. The two of you supported each other and lent an ear during challenging times. Him being Spider-Man made so much sense because you remembered the many times he’d show up late, but he always had a gift for you to make up for it, whether it was a small snack, the keychain you’ve been eyeing online, a pin of the place you dreamed of traveling to—he was always thoughtful in that way. 

You recalled the times he’d show up with random scars and bruises, claiming he got them from work (which wasn’t a total lie), but now you knew which work he was really referring to. It worried you, but he’d brush off your worries by telling you he was okay. Still, you’d trace the scars in concern with your finger, the two of you soon locking eyes, knowing there was something more. 

Unfortunately, your rough dating history prevented you from letting others in as easily as you used to. You always expected disappointment because that way you could never truly be disappointed. Yet somewhere along the way, he managed to break down your defenses, and your walls crumbled.

If Jungkook could be described in one word, it’d be genuine. He was sincere in everything he said, everything he did, giving his all. He knew you better than you knew yourself, almost like you had met him in another life.

The third time he asked you out for dinner, you finally caved. It might’ve had something to do with his heartfelt message that morning, describing a dream of you two dating and his immense happiness (the dude sent you a whole essay for goodness sakes). You were a sucker for such heartfelt gestures and realized you were ready to love again. 

But then everything changed when his identity as Spider-Man was revealed. Dating a hero was something you couldn't allow yourself to do, and rejecting him was the right decision for both of you. Even if you missed him.

Suddenly, the commotion from nearby startled you, causing your eyes to flutter open to an unexpected sight. Outside the train window, Jungkook dangled against the glass with the biggest cheeky grin. He waved at you as if it were a completely normal situation.

“Hi [Y/N]!!!” he shouted. You put your hands on your head in distress. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” you exclaimed, your loud voice prompting some people to retreat to another corner, allowing you a clearer view of the audacious arachnid. 

“I wanted to see you!!!” His words were muffled, barely audible with the glass being a barrier.

“What?” you said, cupping your ear, struggling to hear him clearly. 

Jungkook repeated his words, this time speaking slower and accentuating his lip movements. As he did so, he used his free hand to illustrate his words. 

"I," he pointed at himself, "Wanted," he gestured by rubbing his heart, "To," he pointed with his index and middle finger at his eyes and then at you, "See you!"

Feeling embarrassed and exasperated, you rolled your eyes and directed your gaze towards the ceiling. Deciding to move to another cart on the train, you began walking away. However, Jungkook hoisted himself up to the top and walked in tandem with you. Eventually, you settled into another seat, assuming he had given up, only to find his cheerful face peering at you upside-down from behind.

“Ahhh!!!” you screamed, almost shitting your pants from the surge of fright. 

“I MISS YOU!” he exclaimed. 

“For god sakes, leave me alone, you idiot!”

“I can be your idiot!”

Finally reaching your destination, you bolted out of there, with Jungkook persistently following in your footsteps. Once you got to the donut shop you worked at, you were completely out of breath. 

“Hey [Y/N]. Are you running a marathon or something?” Your manager, Jin, tossed you an apron and you somehow caught it. 

“No. Crazy. Man. Stalking me,” you said in between breaths. Jin grabbed the nearest object, which was a feather duster, wielding it with exaggerated finesse. You hurriedly positioned yourself behind him and put on the apron, keeping a close eye on the entrance. As expected, Jungkook swung into view, striking a perfect pose at the front.

“Wait, is that who I think it is?” Jin said. Jungkook entered your workplace with a bright and mischievous grin. “Oh my god! It’s Spider-Man!”

“Hey~. You weren't going to hit me with that were you? Or were you going to give me a thorough dusting?” Jungkook quipped. Jin immediately hid the feather duster behind his back, letting out a nervous laugh.

“No, I would never hit the famous Spider-Man, Seoul’s greatest hero. Can you sign some T-Shirts for me later? Maybe even sign my face and make it more handsome?”

“Sure.”

You dropped your jaw in disbelief and Jin gave you a stern look. “Well? What are you waiting for? Go serve him!”

“What? He’s the crazy person who keeps following me!”

“He’s going to skyrocket our sales in a day, go go go!”

You let out a groan and approached Jungkook with a defeated posture. "Please follow me this way," you said with a tone of dejection.

“Don’t slouch!” Jin scolded. You straightened up as Jungkook trailed behind you towards a table. Your acute hearing caught the stares and whispers of the few customers who were already there.

“So… Ms. [Y/N], is it?” Jungkook said, even going so far as to squint to look at your nametag. “Pretty name.”

“You know my name.”

“I know you’re into me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Well, that’s the plan. If I could, it'd be every hour, every minute, every second.” 

“Geez, this is harassment,” you said, trying to maintain a steady tone. “What do you want to drink, sir?”

“Sir? I like how that sounds.” Disgust twisted your face as you regretted letting that word slip, a habit from your long tenure at the place.

“Jungkook, either order or get out.”

“Are you on the menu?”

“You’re such a troublemaker. I’m getting you a different server.” He burst into laughter, raising his hands as if caught in the act. 

“Okay, okay. I’m kidding. I’ll have an Americano.”

“Great. Be right back.”

“Yay!”

“Shut up.”

“Aw.”

You quickly got his drink ready (having half a mind to spit in it but realized he’d probably enjoy that so you refrained) and returned to hand it over. 

“Is this the to-go cup?”

“Ah, very observant. It’s because I want you ‘to-go.’ Out the door. Right there,” you said, pointing to the exit. 

“Well, just for that, I think I’ll stick around longer if you know what I mean,” he teased, emphasizing the word “stick” with a wink.

“Jungkook please. I’m working here.”

“Can we just talk?”

“I don’t have anything left to say.”

“Not even to the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man? I know you must have some questions. Like why is he so lovable, kind, handsome—”

“Tries to get in everybody’s pants?” you finished for him. 

“That’s not true. I haven’t gotten into yours.”

“I knew that’s the only reason you kept asking me out.”

He gasped, holding a hand to his chest. “I’m offended. You should know I think more highly of you than that, babe. I care about you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not interested, Jungkook. Find someone else.”

“Why? I thought we were hitting it off so well.”

“If by hitting it off you mean you stopped hooking up with anything that had a pulse until I came into the picture, then yeah, we hit it off.”

“Hey, I was proving to you that I was serious. About you, about us. I’m devoted.”

“Gee, thanks for keeping it in your pants for that long. You deserve a trophy.” 

“Nah, but if you’re offering to be one, I can’t say no.”

“I’m not sure if I should be insulted by that. I’m not some prize to be won.”

“I know. I’m just saying I’d worship you.”

You tried not to get flustered at his words. Just then, a swarm of reporters, paparazzi, and fans barged in, and Jungkook stepped in front of you, shielding you from the camera flashes.

“You’re Spider-Man, right?” one of the reporters in the front asked. 

“Yeah. So what?” Jungkook replied, showcasing a camera-ready smile that made everyone swoon.

“Is that your girlfriend?” a photographer asked. Jungkook extended his hand behind him, pulling you close and positioning you securely on his back, almost like a shield.

"Well, we're still a work in progress."

"So, that's a no then?"

“I’m not giving up. She has me wrapped around her finger.”

“Are you gonna have his spider babies?” a fan shouted from the back. You covered your face, mortified, while Jungkook chuckled. Luckily, Jin diverted the attention of the crowd by demanding they give him free publicity for the donut shop or else they’d have to take their services elsewhere. You begged Jungkook to leave and he obliged, but not before giving you a playful wink.

“I’ll see you again.”

“Please don’t.”

“Seven days a week. That’s a promise.”

Wednesday

“H—” 

“Don’t talk to me.”

Seriously, the laundromat? He couldn’t even let you do your most hated chore in peace? You yanked each piece of clothing out of the machine, aggressively stuffing them into the basket you had while he sat nonchalantly behind you on another machine. 

“Come on, babe. I’m offering all of me to you.”

“Not interested.”

You walked away from him, placing your basket on another machine's surface, preparing to fold your clothes on the table. Naturally, he trailed after you like a devoted puppy.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re Spider-Man. It’s not a good idea for us to be involved with each other.”

“You’re still on that?”

You folded your shirt, shooting him a glare, despising how effortlessly he rocked his torn jeans, pale blue hoodie, and crisp white tanktop. He had such a gentle beauty that drove you crazy, especially with that soft puppy dog gaze of his. Why did the universe have to serve you the most attractive man on earth on a silver platter, knowing you couldn’t have him?

“Still on that..? Still on that?! I seriously can’t stand you!” you shouted, throwing your shirt aside in frustration. As you stormed away, you suddenly felt a splash on your ankle. Looking down, you realized the place was flooding. People all around were panicking, attempting to open the locked door. However, Jungkook remained unfazed.

"You don't mean that."

"Jungkook, the place is flooding!" you cried, the water level rising faster than before. It was now up to your waist, and a wave of panic began to wash over you.

"I'm going to die. I knew it. I knew this would happen if I got close to you! It's all your fault!" you exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“At least we’ll be together.” 

You shoved him hard enough that he stumbled back, making a sizable splash in the water. But despite your actions, he continued his relentless rambling. “See, this is a representation of how I feel. Without you I’m drowning. Give me a chance.”

He held your hand underwater and you pulled away, unable to register how unserious he was taking this. You let out a frustrated sigh, the water rising up to your neck, causing you to float up to the ceiling, where the lights were flickering wildly. Desperately, you pushed against them, as if hoping they would magically grant you more space.

“You know what, maybe death isn’t so bad after all.” you muttered.

“Let me love you right.”

“Does this look right?!”

You groaned and took a deep breath, going underwater to get away from him and his flirtatious words. Of course, he copied your actions but used his super strength to punch the glass windows and release the water. As it drained away, you laid there on your back, gasping for air. That was until Jungkook’s stupid face appeared before you. 

“Need CPR? Have no fear–” 

You swiftly pushed his face out of the way and sat up. “Nope, I’m good. Kiss me and you’re dead.”

Outside, a colossal twister of water surged into existence, taking the form of a massive entity that roared with immense power. Its presence was damning, with the sheer force of its swirling torrent causing nearby buildings to suffer damage.

“Well… that’s new,” Jungkook said, marveling at the sight before him. He clenched his fist, a sense of duty and readiness forming within him. Yet, your knowing look brought a hint of reluctance to his expression. He spoke in pouts. “Do I have to go? I don't want to leave you here alone.

You crossed your arms but offered an encouraging smile. “Go get ‘em, tiger. I’ll be okay.”

His pout transformed into a determined gaze as he nodded, accepting your words as a catalyst for action. Before he ventured into the chaos outside, he turned back to face you.

“I’ll come back for you. Get somewhere safe.”

Your concern for his well-being prompted you to call out to him before he left.

“Hey!” He turned around, his eyes shining with anticipation of your words. “If you… if you die, I’ll kill you.”

Your playful threat elicited a chuckle from Jungkook. With an assuring smile, he took hold of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I won’t.”

Thursday

“Is that Spider-Man?”

“Quick, someone call 911!”

Jungkook shouldn’t have been texting and swinging, but you weren’t replying and he was worried. By the time he lowered his phone, it was too late and he crashed into the back of a double-decker tourist bus. People found him lying motionless on the street, facedown. The ambulance arrived at the scene and placed him on a stretcher, gradually stirring him from his drowsy state.

In the midst of the commotion, Jungkook’s sharp eyes spotted you on the sidewalk, clearly concerned about his well-being. When your gazes met, you realized he was fine and started walking faster to get out of his line of sight.

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m alright!” Jungkook protested, scrambling to get out of the stretcher’s restraints. The paramedics urged him to stay put, but he didn’t listen. He ripped the restraints off and pursued you, catching sight of a flower vendor along the way. He handed them an absurdly large wad of cash, disregarding how much he overpaid for a bouquet (but hey, it brought joy to the vendor). Delighted by the sight of the flowers now in his possession, he twirled around in sheer bliss.

“[Y/N]! Wait!” 

You were in the middle of walking across the street and by the time Jungkook got there, a car nearly hit him, causing him to nearly stumble and drop the bouquet. The car’s blaring horn compelled you to finally turn around, swiftly grabbing him by the arm and guiding him to the safety of the sidewalk.

“Are you crazy? Weren’t you on your way to the hospital?” you said, releasing your grip on him. With a toothy grin, he handed you the bouquet of sunflowers.

“I heal fast. These are for you.” 

You stared at the flowers, then back at him, overcome with disbelief. 

“I hate flowers,” you confessed, a tinge of annoyance in your voice.

“Wait, really?” he said, his hand instinctively reaching for his forehead in frustration. “I thought girls loved flowers.”

“All they do is wilt and die.”

“Well, you said I wasn’t boyfriend material, but I’m trying my best. You know what, it’s fine. I’ll take them back. I’ll get the boyfriend thing right one day. You’ll see.”

His face beamed with optimism, but it stung your heart a little. Unable to resist, you extended your hand towards the bouquet. “No, I’ll take them. They’re beautiful, thank you.”

He studied your movements and you even went as far as to smell the flowers letting out a satisfied “ahh” sound afterward. 

“You’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, okay~. Get out of here. I have work and you have to get to a hospital!”

“No, I’m fine.”

You placed your hand on your hip and playfully jabbed him in the side, causing him to flinch. "Ow, ow, OW! Alright, I get it. I'll go to the hospital."

You spun him around and nudged his back. “Alright, go on. Get out of here.”

“What am I, an animal?”

“Worse. An arachnid,” you joked. Jungkook walked back across the street once it was clear, making sure to turn back and wave at you. You waved back and when he finally got far enough, you let out the sneeze you had been holding in. 

“Ugh… now I gotta find a vase,” you said, sniffling. Jungkook quietly smiled to himself, his heightened sense of hearing providing him with another reason to love you.

Friday

This was the worst thunderstorm you’ve seen in a while. You just finished watching a movie you’d been dying to see and would usually take the train home, but you had to first be able to get to the station without problem. This was one of those times you wished you had a car.

Due to the storm warnings, most people had left the theater early. You found yourself alone outside, contemplating whether to go back inside and wait out the storm with the employees. However, before you could make a decision, you heard a familiar voice.

“[Y/N]! What are you doing outside? It’s raining like crazy!”

“Oh no.”

You began walking away from him in the freezing rain, berating yourself for not bringing a jacket with a hood. Jungkook followed closely behind you.

“Are you really going to keep avoiding me? Even in this weather?”

“Yup!” 

“This is crazy. Come to my place. It’s not far away.”

“Nice try.”

“I’m serious, this is dangerous!”

“So now you can realize when a situation’s dangerous!”

You kept on trudging on amidst the ferocious storm, which only worsened the more steps you took. The wind became so powerful that abandoned pieces of furniture and appliances were scattered across the street. You took shelter behind a washing machine just in time to avoid being blown away by a gust of wind. Unfortunately, Jungkook wasn’t as lucky and desperately clung to a pole to avoid being swept away. But even still, he managed to call out for you.

“See?! This is why you should come back to my place!!!”

“Is sex the only thing on your mind?!”

“If it’s with you! Oh shi–” His grip loosened and he flew backwards in the wind current.

“Jungkook!” you screamed, abandoning your safe spot to rush to his side. He laid motionless on the ground, unresponsive even as you shook him. “Are you okay? Please respond. I can’t–I can’t deal with the thought of losing you. Come back and annoy me, damn it!”

He let out a sputter of a laugh and then quickly shut his lips, still pretending to be dead. 

“You little shit. Wake up this instant!”

“No, I could die happy now because I know you care about me.”

“Troublemaker,” you said, landing a punch on his chest. The impact jolted him awake, and he groaned as you turned away. However, a massive tree branch was heading your way through the wind and before you could react, Jungkook shot a web and pulled you to safety, right into his arms. 

Gasping for breath, your heart racing from the sudden surge of adrenaline, the two of you locked eyes, oblivious to everything else around you. Even in the rain, he remained breathtakingly handsome, with his long, black hair clinging to his face and water cascading off his cute button nose. Your gaze trailed down to his stylish black and white jacket, appreciating the definition of his abs visible through his drenched white t-shirt.

“Do I have permission to take you back to my place now?” You felt your words get caught in your throat. "Please," he added softly, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation and hope. You simply extended your hand, and he stared at it, taken aback. Realizing your sincerity, he became ecstatic and tightly held your hand as the coincidental storm came to a halt. Hand in hand, you dragged him in a specific direction, noticing how he did a cute little run to keep up with your brisk steps.

“Wait… this isn’t the way back to my place,” Jungkook said, his voice filled with confusion. You simply smirked and continued to drag him by the arm towards the entrance of your destination. "Why are we at a police station?" he questioned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Babe, if you wanted to handcuff me, I already have a pair back home."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you responded, "Trust me, this isn't about handcuffs."

A smirk formed on Jungkook's lips as he leaned closer, his voice laced with amusement. "So, what's the grand plan then? Are you filing a restraining order against me?" His words held a hint of excitement, as if he was relishing the idea.

You pretended to consider it for a moment, then nodded with mock seriousness. "Yup, that's exactly what I'm doing."

Jungkook burst into laughter, his infectious giggles filling the air. "You're serious right now?" 

Your expression turned determined as you raised an eyebrow. “Yup.”

He gave you his signature doe eyes. “I’d rather die than be apart from you.”

“Go ahead.”

Saturday

Trouble: I miss u. Pls talk to me.

Trouble: I need u to ride my face. I was dreaming about it, like seriously. 

Trouble: Aren’t u curious if webs come out my dick? Trouble: Spoiler: they don’t. 

Trouble: Ok, pls I’m dying. Really. Help. 

Immediately after receiving the last text, you wasted no time in calling him. He picked up after the first ring. 

“Jungkook? Are you okay? What happened?!”

“Hmm? Nothing, I’m fine. Yay, you’re talking to me.”

“... I thought you said you were dying!”

"Yeah, because being away from you feels like dying."

“This isn’t funny, I was seriously worried you died or something. This is exactly why I can’t be your girlfriend. Bye.”

“No, no. Please don’t go.”

You hung up, but a flurry of texts flooded in and seeing the same unread message notification was driving you crazy. So you did the sensible thing and turned off your phone because your break was over anyway. Part of you thought Jungkook was going to show up at your workplace again but as the hours passed by, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe I should turn on my phone again… just to see if he’s okay. No, I shouldn’t give him the attention. Or maybe I should? Where is he?

“Hey [Y/N],” Jin said, gesturing for you to come over to where he was sitting, “You need to see this.”

You set down the cleaning cloth you were holding and made your way over to the booth he was at, where a large television overhead was displaying an explosion that happened a couple hours ago. Jin turned up the volume and your heart dropped as your mouth turned dry. 

The words “Breaking News” flashed across the screen as the news anchor stated, “In a shocking turn of events, tragedy struck earlier today as an explosion ripped through the apartment of Jeon Jungkook, known to many as the heroic figure, Spider-Man.”

Seeing the picture of Jungkook smiling in the corner made you fall to your knees. You stopped listening after they said he was presumed dead, and the authorities still had yet to recover his body. You didn’t even realize you were crying until the first tear dropped off your chin. Grabbing your phone, you quickly turned it on, anxiously waiting for the screen to load. Opening your text messages, you read them all quickly.

Trouble: I’m sorry for scaring u. :(

Trouble: I just wanna be with u.

Trouble: Am I annoying u? 

Trouble: I probably am.

Trouble: But ur all that’s on my mind.

Trouble: I know I’m jumping in fast. But I know I can make u happy. <3 We’ll take it slow. Whatever u want.

Trouble: Text me when u can.

The last text gutted you. 

Trouble: I really do love you. 🙂 I always will. Seven days a week. <3

You called him right after, but it was sent straight to voicemail. You tried again, only to meet the same fate. 

“Please tell me you’re alright… please tell me you’re alive,” you said through broken sobs. “There’s so much I want to tell you. Please call me back.”

Later that evening, Jungkook returned from a mission from a ways away at the request of Iron Man (how could he say no to Iron Man, the dude worshiped him). In the car, his mentor showed him the news video and Jungkook was stunned to see how everyone presumed him dead. Seeing how there was already a funeral service planned for him, he was astonished at their efficiency. 

“Can I borrow a suit?” Jungkook asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wanted to set things right, but he had to do it with style. His mentor was more than happy to oblige, finding his protege’s plan hilarious.

When the funeral service began, you were seated among your mutual friends as well as the civilians who adored him. One by one people came up to the podium to say a few words except for you. You hadn’t processed the shock of his death yet, clutching your phone in hopes he’d text you or call you soon. 

“[Y/N]? Would you please come up and say a few words?” You looked up at your friend and realized everyone had already gone. Slowly you approached the podium and took a deep breath, trying not to stare at Jungkook’s handsome portrait. 

“Um… hello… I’m [Y/N]. I’m uh… well, some of you think I’m Jungkook’s girlfriend, but we hadn’t established that yet,” You licked your lips to wet them to be able to continue speaking. “I want to believe he’s still alive. I want to tell him so many things. You know, he asked me out three times.”

The crowd smiled at this and it gave you the confidence to go on. “Yeah, I know. He was persistent. It’s honestly one of the things I loved about him. And you’re probably thinking why didn’t I give him a chance? Well… this is why. I was afraid he’d get hurt someday and I’d lose him. And now… I probably have.”

You started to cry again, but wanted to keep going. “Even though I knew this was always a possibility, it doesn’t hurt any less. I miss him. I miss his stupid jokes, I miss the way he scrunches his nose, I miss the way he looks angry when he eats something delicious… I miss him. I wish he knew the truth.”

You looked at the closed casket in sorrow. “I love you, Jungkook. I was just too scared to admit it.”

Walking over to the casket, you sighed. “How could you leave me? You said you’d always love me…”

The casket slowly opened and a familiar voice said, “Seven days a week.”

Everyone at the service was letting out cries of shock, some even standing up or falling down. One even fainted and someone shouted, “IT’S A GHOST!”

You were face to face with Jungkook in a pinstripe suit, smiling at you brightly. You stumbled backwards, shocked as he jumped out and stood in front of you. 

“Hey,” he said warmly. Your brain couldn’t register how relieved you were and the overwhelming flood of emotions caused you to default to hitting his chest repeatedly. 

“Don’t ‘hey’ me! What the fuck is going on?! I thought you died, how could you just pop up in a casket like it’s normal? Where the hell were you? You stopped replying and I got worried—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” He caught both your wrists and chuckled. “I’m alive, I’m okay. I was out of town for a bit helping Iron Man. Not my fault I come back and everyone presumes I’m dead.”

“You didn’t pick up my calls…” you said, calmer than before. 

“Ah, my phone got destroyed in the battle. No big deal though, I’ll just get a new one.”

“I really thought you were gone,” you said, hating that the waterworks were coming back. You could barely breathe and hiccups were leaving your lips faster than you could keep up with. He pulled you into a hug, patting your back gently to ease your worries.

“I’d never leave my girl,” he whispered into your ear. You didn’t have the strength to say more, so you let him hold you as everyone flooded out of the room to spread the news about Spider-Man’s return.  

Walking hand in hand, you led him away from the somber atmosphere of the service, a glimmer of happiness returning to both of your faces. His smile, as bright as ever, mirrored the joy you felt at the simple act of your joined hands.

“Taking me to another police station? For the record I didn’t fake my death. I should sue the news station for that.”

You shook your head, your voice softening as you spoke. “No. We’re going to my place.”

Jungkook came to a sudden stop, causing you to stumble back a bit, caught off guard by his abrupt halt.

“Are you serious?”

“Well… yeah. Your place was destroyed. It’s late. Were you going to stay somewhere else?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said, trying to mask your disappointment. “Guess I’ll go home then. Goodnight.”

You tried to leave, but Jungkook wouldn’t let go of your hand, finding your reactions adorable.

“What? Are you sad I’m not going home with you?”

“Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’s your loss, really.”

You stared at the ground, kicking a pebble across the street to distract yourself from your own vulnerability. Jungkook cupped your face and tilted your head up, so you would look at him. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to go home with you, beautiful. I do. But there’s a chance they might go after your place next and I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. You were right. I wasn’t taking things seriously.”

A mix of surprise and tenderness washed over you as you heard him acknowledge your concerns.

“Did you just admit that I was right? I must be dreaming.”

“To be fair, I’ve put away a lot of bad people and most of them are too terrified to face me again. I guess I let my guard down, thinking we were in the clear.”

“Yeah, that type of arrogance is why you’re such a pain.”

“But you love me anyway. I heard you say it.”

“I’m starting to regret it honestly.”

“... I still heard it.”

“Y-Your death caught me off guard,” you stammered. “Anyway, what are we going to do then if we’re both homeless?”

“I have a place we can go to. Do you trust me?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you hesitated only for a moment before nodding in affirmation.

“Yes.”

“Then come here.” He gently guided your hands to wrap around his neck, his touch sending a comforting warmth through your fingertips. “Now, put your legs around my waist.”

You followed his instructions, securing your legs around him, feeling the strength in his embrace. A grin spread across his face as he saw your trust.

“Good girl. Hold on tight.”

He launched a web toward the tallest nearby building, propelling the two of you into the sky with incredible height and speed. You held onto him tight, loving how you finally got to swing with the one and only Spider-Man. 

Jungkook ended up swinging you to the Avengers Compound. He was assigned a room a while back and hadn’t used it much, but tonight was the perfect opportunity to do so. It was more than safe with the latest security updates, so you didn’t need to worry about him or yourself. 

Naturally, walking into the Compound felt out of sorts to you because you didn’t feel like you belonged. It was like you trespassing on sacred ground. But once you reached Jungkook’s room, that feeling gradually dissipated. The spaciousness and comfort of the room welcomed you, making you feel more at ease. Windows surrounded the room, allowing natural light to pour in, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. A dumbbell rack occupied one corner, a testament to Jungkook's dedication to staying fit, while on the opposite side stood an impressive gaming setup.

Taking a seat on the bed, you watched as Jungkook immediately knelt down on one knee, his gentle hands reaching for your heels.

“Let me take these off for you.”

You offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s my honor.”

Your eyes locked for a moment, the unspoken connection between you both growing stronger. However, Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking the intimate silence.

“I’ll get you a change of clothes. They might be big though if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you… for taking care of me.”

Jungkook smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling with tenderness. “It’s my purpose, love.”

His words resonated deeply within you, leaving you speechless. Fortunately, he broke eye contact and went over to his closet, pulling out an oversized T-shirt with a pair of sports shorts. He handed you the neatly folded pile of clothes and gestured you towards the bathroom. After you got changed, you opened the door to see he had already changed too. He wore a gray shirt and matching gray sweats, the simple attire making him effortlessly stylish.

“Do you have a toothbrush?” you asked timidly. He nodded and went over to grab one from the cabinet for you, selecting your favorite color on purpose. Grabbing his own toothbrush, the two of you brushed your teeth in silence, occasionally meeting each other’s gaze in the mirror before looking away.

Once done, you both walked back to his room, but he stopped at the doorway. “So um… I’ll sleep in the living room. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

You shook your head in protest.

“I need you.” He looked at you with wide, curious eyes. “Because… It's cold in this room. And two people in the room allows enough body heat to travel and set the room to optimal temperature. If you leave, it’ll be too cold to sleep at night.”

You mentally cursed at how stupid you sounded right now, but Jungkook kept smiling at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his life. “Well, if it's a matter of optimal temperature, then I guess I have no choice but to stay. After all, I wouldn't want you shivering in the cold all night, now would I?”

“Exactly. It has to be balanced.”

“Alright. You’ve convinced me.”

Jungkook stepped into the room and shut the door. You quickly got under the covers but then realized he was grabbing an extra comforter from his closet and placing it on the floor.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“This is your room. Don’t be silly.”

“But—”

“Sleep with me. U-Up here. There’s plenty of room.”

Jungkook watched you closely, waiting for a shift in expression but you were dead serious. He awkwardly put the comforter back and made his way over to you, getting underneath the covers. 

“Goodnight,” he said, the stiffness evident in his voice.

“Goodnight,” you replied, your tone mirroring the tension in the room. Jungkook turned on the lamp on his bedside table, casting a soft glow across the room, and both of you lay down on your respective sides, facing away from each other. The air in the room grew thick with palpable tension, amplified by the sound of your racing heart and shallow breaths.

“[Y/N]?”

“Yeah?”

“I promise I’m not trying to sleep with you, so sleep comfortably, okay? I won’t try anything.”

Something inside you snapped, a surge of emotions and desires bubbling up to the surface. You couldn't hold back any longer. “Maybe I want you to try something.”

His body stiffened for a split second, and then he quickly turned over to his other side. Following his lead, you mirrored his movement, facing the opposite direction.

“Are you… sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured. I know a lot’s happened.”

You chuckled softly and cupped his face, your eyes full of love and desire. “What am I going to do with you, Trouble?”

“Am I… Am I Trouble?”

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah. You are. You always will be.”

His grin widened. “I like it.”

“I like you.” There was a brief pause as you stared into his eyes, noticing how his pupils dilated. “I might even… love you. A lot.”

You tenderly traced his lip piercing with your thumb before leaning in, allowing your lips to meet in a gentle and lingering kiss. Jungkook responded eagerly, his lips moving in sync with yours as he sought the perfect angle and rhythm. He placed his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer, intoxicated by the sensation of his lips on yours. A soft moan escaped your lips as he gently nibbled on your bottom lip, his teeth teasingly tugging at the delicate skin. The kiss continued for a few minutes until you leaned back, needing to catch your breath. 

“Wow…” you breathed. “You’re good.”

“I know. I’ve been dreaming about kissing you for as long as I can remember.” 

A moment of silence filled the air, carrying a blend of tenderness and a hint of inexperience. Jungkook’s been with plenty of women, sure. And you too had your fair share of dating experiences. But this would be your first time with each other. Until now, you two had never shared a kiss. 

Jungkook, being considerate and thoughtful, wanted to make sure you felt at ease throughout the entire experience. Taking his time, he gently asked, "Are you okay if we… continue?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation. “It’s okay.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Unless all that talk about fucking me seven days a week was a lie,” you challenged, the smirk on your face branding you as a total brat. Jungkook immediately got on top of you, pinning both your wrists over your head. 

“Oh babe… you have no idea what I’m capable of, do you?” He kissed you again, pulling away with an audible smooch sound. “Such a tease.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

He poked his tongue against his cheek at your bratty behavior, opting to pin you down with one hand while the other traced the lines of your body, stopping at the hem of your shirt. He watched your face for confirmation.

“Go ahead, Trouble.”

He slid the material up slowly, revealing your breasts to his feasting eyes. It was his first time seeing you like this and god, you were more beautiful than he could have possibly imagined (and he’s imagined you plenty of times). 

“Please, do stare longer,” you teased, trying to fight the self-conscious part of you. 

“I’m memorizing every detail,” Jungkook said, his eyes full of admiration. “You’re gorgeous.”

“You really think so?”

Usually you’d be more confident, but with him, you felt shy. Maybe it was because he had more experience than you, leaving you with a lingering curiosity about how you measured up against his past flings. Or maybe it was because he’s Spider-Man and the fear of the unknown loomed in your thoughts. Or maybe… you knew this one night would change things between you two forever.

“Hey…” He released your wrists and rubbed circles on your waist with his thumb before proceeding to place a chaste kiss there as if to ease your worries. “I mean it. You’re beyond stunning, I’m a lucky guy. Don’t ever doubt yourself.”

“Thank you… I don’t know, I just… I’m scared. Things will never be the same after this.”

“Yeah… that’s true. I know you’re worried and think this won’t work out. I know you’re doubting a lot of things. But if there’s one thing you shouldn’t doubt, it’s my love for you.”

“Jungkook…”

“I want you safe. I want you to be comfortable. We don’t have to do more. Okay?”

His eyes were sincere, his smile earnest. The way he kissed your forehead sent a comforting warmth throughout your whole body. He was so gentle with you, how could you not love him?

He was about to get off of you until you confessed, “I love you too. And I don’t want to hold back anymore so…” 

You cupped your breasts together with both hands, luring him in. “Don’t hold back either.”

Jungkook didn’t say any more and immediately took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard. You arched your back in pleasure as he massaged your other breast while flicking your nipple with his tongue. Moans and licking noises left his lips, the sinful sounds increasing your desire tenfold. Running your hand through his luscious black locks, you tugged gently to bring him closer and he responded with a groan. 

“Your breasts are fucking perfect, you’re perfect,” he said raspily as he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment before sucking on the skin hard enough to bruise it. “You’re such a temptation.”

He placed his face in the valley of your breasts, littering your chest with kisses before latching his warm lips on your neck. You mewled when he sucked the spot under your jaw, figuring he left another hickey. 

“I have work in the morning,” you whined in faux protest, secretly relishing in the fact he was claiming you as his.

“Good. Now everyone can envy who I have as my girlfriend,” he said, continuing to make out with your neck. His hand trailed down your body and slipped into your shorts and you felt him smiling against your skin, relishing at feeling how wet you were. “No panties? You’re already so wet for me…”

His middle finger rubbed up and down your slit a few times as you took in some sharp breaths, especially when he pressed on your clit. You wanted more, you needed more. Thrusting your hips up so the pressure would be just right, you sighed in content.  

“Such a needy girl. I haven’t even done much and you’re already such a mess.” He dipped his middle finger slowly, invading your tight walls. You moaned as he thrusted it in and out, waiting for you to adjust to the size before inserting another. He curled them just so, knowing he was hitting the right spot by the way your body reacted. Your breaths were becoming shaky, your body trembling, as you begged him to go faster.

“Please, don’t stop, sir,” you pleaded. His eyes darkened, loving how you addressed him. He fingered you faster as a reward, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut in bliss as your orgasm built up. Curses left your lips as you squirmed on his bed and he loved every second of it. What sealed the deal was when he attacked your neck again, biting down with just the right amount of pressure to pleasure you. Your first orgasm ripped through you and he helped you through the blissful waves, scissoring his fingers expertly. 

“Such a good girl, so sexy,” Jungkook praised, gradually slowing down when your body gave out. Your chest rose and fell as you came back down to earth. He chuckled, removing his drenched fingers and sucking them clean, making obscene wet noises. “Fuck, I need more. You taste amazing.”

He got in between your legs and carefully pulled down your shorts as you lifted your hips up, discarding them behind him. You got nervous when you realized he was staring at your womanhood unashamed, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. 

“You’re staring,” you pointed out shyly. He palmed himself through his sweats, shaking his head.

“No baby. I’m admiring. So fucking sexy… I need you to ride my face. Please.”

“But what if… what if I crush you?” you asked timidly, having not done something like that before.

“Ugh, I’d die happy. Sit on me, please. Here,” He laid flat on his back, so his head was slightly hanging off the edge of the bed. “Get off the bed and hover over me.”

You obliged but were still apprehensive. He stared up at you upside-down, rubbing the outside of your thigh soothingly. 

“Come on, baby. Ride my face and I promise it’ll be worth it. We can stop whenever you want.” 

“You’ll let me know if I’m hurting you?”

He chuckled at how sweet you were being. “Yes, I will. Now open those pretty legs of yours, yeah. Just like that. Fuck,” You got closer to him and appreciated he was guiding you every step of the way. He kissed the inside of your thigh. “Let me have a taste.”

He palmed your cheeks and secured his head snug in between your thighs before licking a stripe of your cunt, cleaning up the mess he made of you while also encouraging more to come. You shuddered at the feeling of the wet muscle licking your folds and he moaned, the vibration sending tingles up your spine. He was devouring you like a starved man, the slurping sounds sinful, almost primal. 

He pulled you down more, allowing his tongue to slip inside and you were transported to heaven as he began tongue-fucking you as deep as he could. You couldn’t find the strength to hold yourself up anymore, so you placed your hands on either side of his body to hold yourself steady. But that’s when you noticed the tent in his pants and decided to pull his sweatpants down, exposing his large, aching cock. Not only was his length impressive, but the girth was more than you expected, your mouth watering at the thought of it inside you.

However, you had to give back and you ran your nails along his thigh to get his attention.

“Of course your cock is also perfect,” you said. Jungkook ceased his actions for a moment, his breath hitched at the thought of what you were going to do next. “I want to please you too, Trouble.”

“Fuck, please do. Wait, I have an idea. Switch spots with me.”

“Hmm? Okay…”

You were clueless of his plans, but you laid down on the bed upside-down while he got up, removing his shirt and sweats completely. Your shirt was the last article of clothing left on your body, so you removed it as well while ogling Jungkook’s defined body. He was toned in all the right places as if sculpted by the gods themselves, a delicious feast for your eyes. As he hovered above you, the tip of his cock was dangerously close to your lips, so you placed a chaste kiss on it. 

He rubbed your cheek lovingly at this action, pleased. “You wanna suck my cock that badly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“Good.”

In one swift motion, Jungkook wrapped his arms around the underside of your thighs and lifted you up so that you and him were both standing together. Except you were still upside-down, realizing he wanted to do the 69 position while standing. You let out a yelp at the sudden bold action and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

“Oh my god, oh my god, please don’t drop me.”

“I’ve got you, beautiful. You okay?”

“Your dick kinda smacked me in the face.”

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry.”

You giggled. “It’s okay… I kinda liked it.”

Your hands gripped onto Jungkook’s firm ass for support as you slowly took his cock deep in your mouth. He hugged your waist securely, returning his mouth on your pussy and sucking harshly while moving his head side to side rapidly. Your moans were muffled by his cock as you did your best to bob your head up and down in the difficult position. The blood rushing to your head made things a little harder to focus, but you continued to deep throat him while swirling your tongue around his member. 

Each time his cock hit the back of your throat, he let out a restrained moan, increasing the pressure of his lips on your clit. But you were relentless, not letting up on your steady pace.

“Fuck, are you trying to make me cum?” Jungkook asked, breathing heavily. You released his cock with a loud pop of your lips. 

“Is it working?”

He gently placed you back down on the bed and then proceeded to grab a condom from his nightstand drawer. “I don’t want to cum until you do.”

You rearranged yourself so you were oriented correctly on the bed while you watched him rip the package open with his teeth, which was very seductive in your eyes. 

“Guess that means no spider-babies then,” you joked. A faint blush colored his cheeks in response to the comment.

“I want to do things right with you. Maybe after some time… we can take that risk,” Jungkook said thoughtfully. You felt your heart blossom, wondering how it was possible to love him more than before. 

You watched as he rolled the condom onto his fat cock before climbing back in bed in between your legs. Using one hand to hold himself up, the other one slowly guided the tip to your entrance, teasingly rubbing it up and down your slit.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes. I need you inside me.”

You held your breath as he slowly inserted into you, making sure you could take the first inch before adding another. He prepped you well, the transition smooth, but you let out a whimper when he finally bottomed out into you. 

He shuddered above you, growling at the sensation. “You’re squeezing me so tight, love. You feel so… so good.” 

He grabbed both your hands and intertwined his fingers with your own as he began to thrust into you, his movements nice and languid, making sure to shove his entire cock in you before pulling out again. The moment was full of passion and tenderness, the love he had for you undeniable. You were observant how his face was a portrait of restrained desire, etched with visible tension as he continued to fuck you. His features contorted, the muscles in his jaw tightened, and his brows furrowed in a valiant effort to restrain himself. 

“Jungkook…” you breathed. “You’re holding back, aren’t you?”

He opened his eyes and stopped moving, a pang of guilt spread across his face. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“It’s different this time.”

“Because you’re Spider-Man?”

“Because it’s you.” You clenched around him tightly at that and he hissed. “Fuck… and you say I’m trouble.”

You gave him a peck on the lips. “I want you to feel good too. I can take it. Fuck me like you love me.”

Your words were filthy despite the angelic glow casted upon you from the lamp on his bedside table. He inhaled sharply and pushed himself up so he was sitting on his ankles, his hands taking place on your thighs while your legs rested on his shoulders. Kissing your ankle gingerly, he proceeded to pick up the pace, thrusting into you with a rough slam before repeating the motion over and over. You had the wind knocked out of you when he finally went to town, jack-hammering into you aggressively.

“Fuck, fuck, Jungkook, oh my god,” you said, unable to do anything but take the assault to your cunt. Your breasts bounced up and down with each thrust, the sight so inviting that he embraced one of them for stability.

“Is this what you wanted? Huh?” Jungkook asked as if he was challenging you. You could barely reply with a broken yes before he changed things up, pinning your hands down again while forcing your legs to go up all the way, slamming his hips into you mercilessly. You were screaming at this point, your pussy wrapped around him tightly like a vice.

He grunted as he exerted himself, loving the way his muscles burned while your face contorted with pleasure. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and lifted you up so that your legs were wrapped around his waist as he sat on his knees on the bed, kissing you deeply and giving the both of you a quick break. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, letting me fuck that sweet pussy,” he whispered in between kisses. You braced yourself on his shoulders as he guided his stiff cock back inside you, moving you up and down as he pleased. The squelching sounds of your pussy were obscene and you couldn’t do anything but take it deep. It didn’t take long before Jungkook was standing, finding more stability this way and holding you securely before ramming into you at a bruising pace.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure, unashamed about your strength kink and how his strong muscles fucking you were a dream come true. The familiar pleasure was building again and you were near tears at this point when your second orgasm of the night hit you faster than expected. You threw your head back in bliss, crying out his name like a mantra. 

Before you knew it, you were placed back onto the bed, thankful you could catch your breath. Honestly you could have passed out at this point, but with a swift move, Jungkook flipped you over so that you were on your stomach and he laid on top of you, his tattooed bicep holding your neck gently as he panted into your ear.

“You thought we were done, right? We’re not done,” he said, voice deep and husky. 

You gulped, feeling another wave of arousal in between your thighs. “You didn’t cum yet?”

He let out a sinister chuckle. “Weren’t you listening? I said I’m not done. Understand?”

“Yes sir. I understand.”

He slid his dick into you once more, fucking you like a madman while holding you close, whispering sweet words of praise into your ear. His moans became more broken over time, more whiny, indicating he was close. His hips were stuttering, but he pushed through and slammed into you one final time, releasing into the condom. You let out a content sigh as he finally released you so you could lay your head down while he rested his on your back, panting. 

“Fuck, you were so amazing,” Jungkook said after a couple minutes, pressing butterflies kisses on your back. 

“Yeah, you were… so…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, still in a daze. 

He smirked. “Good? Fantastic? The best you’ve ever had?”

“... Maybe.”

He pushed himself off you and pulled out his dick, taking off the condom and tying it to discard in his trash can. As much as you wanted to bask in the afterglow and fall asleep, you knew you had to clean yourself up properly. To your surprise, Jungkook scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bathroom himself. 

“Go pee,” he urged, setting you down. 

“You need to go pee too,” you countered. 

“... Will you hold it while I go?” 

You burst out laughing, recalling how you saw that trend on TikTok for couples. “Oh my god, no.”

“Damn,” he said, joining in your laughter. You noticed how his dick was still semi-erect and honestly, the size was still very remarkable.

“Are you still hard?”

“It’ll go away, don’t worry about it.”

“... Well… where are your web shooters?” you asked with a certain twinkle in your eye. Jungkook licked his lips at the thought of what you were possibly insinuating. 

“They’re in my room of course. Why?”

“... Maybe you can use them on me.”

Let’s just say you didn’t get to “clean up” after yourself for a while.

Sunday

By the time you woke up, your hands instinctively reached out for Jungkook only to feel nothing but the bedsheets. Sitting up straight, you stared at the empty spot in wonder. Where could he be?

Getting out of bed, you found your legs to be a bit wobbly. The memory of last night’s events resurfaced and you smiled in amusement. Jeon Jungkook talked big, but oh, he kept his word. Even your lower back was aching, but you persevered and explored the Compound looking for him. 

It was when you went up to the rooftop balcony that you spotted him on something quite unexpected. The place must’ve been under construction or something because Jungkook was dancing on a platform in the air that was attached to a crane nearby. He was jovial, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. You went over to the ledge right away, waving your hands around so he would notice you.

“You’re awake!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. You shook your head as a smile broke out on your face.

“What are you doing, silly?”

“I woke up early. Couldn’t sleep anymore. Too happy.”

He held onto one of the ropes on the corner of the platform, dangling half his body off of it without a care in the world. You wanted to rip your hair out at his recklessness.

“What are you doing?!”

*Thwip, thwip*

In an instant, you were pulled off the ledge and onto the platform with him, caught securely in his arms. “You idiot! What if I fell?! Oh my god, get me down. I’m gonna kill y—”

He kissed you tenderly and you melted like butter, unable to resist his touch. When he pulled away, you saw how he glowed in the warm sunlight and the insurmountable love in his gaze. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“What are you even saying right now?” you said softly, giggling at how cute he was.

“We can go on a date. Like, a proper one. No chandeliers falling, no hanging off trains, or laundromats flooding. I promise.”

You placed your forehead against his. “I’d love to, Trouble.”

“Yay! I have a girlfriend!!! The best girlfriend ever!!!” he shouted while jumping up and down, causing the platform to wobble. Panic settled in your features as you hit his chest. 

“We’re going to fall, you idiot!”

“I’m finally your idiot though,” he said, squeezing your waist. You sighed, knowing he was right. The Jungkook you knew was always trouble. 

But now he was your Trouble. 

And then the blip happened... I’m totally joking. LOL.  Hope you enjoyed!!!

Tag List: @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad | @gxtwllsn | @frieschan | @loomipee | @coffee-jeon | @hellbornsworld​ | @sizzlingfestpeach

[itachiiwrites]

❝𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐠𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!❞

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Plot: An argument over a remote control surely couldn't turn into hot sex right?

Minors and Ageless blogs DNI.

Content and Warnings : 18+, MDNI, female reader smut, fluff, crack?, make up sex, cockwarming, mating press, creampie, clit play, satoru and reader are not married but he is a bit delulu, satoru is annoying (but so loveable), big dick satoru, passionate satoru. English is not my first language pls be nice

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network 💗

Satoru will never miss an opportunity to be the egotistical prince he is, and he'll take that gaping chance to tease you so pompously, that you wouldn't mind slapping his stupidly handsome face with his stupidly handsome dimpled grin if it weren't for him fucking you so rauchily after a heated argument. He'll make sure to purposely thrust into you painstakingly slow, it was almost like not moving at all. It didn't help that he was still as a lake inside you from the past few hours.

"Impatient enough?" He knew he was easy on the eyes and how hard it made for you to resist and remain with your ego after a fight, especially when he worshipped you even with his mocking words.

"Satoru..fucking move already—" You arch your back, moving yourself on his still cock, desperate and needy, feeling his each vein ridging against your warm, cloy, walls.

"Aw..too much for you? Mh..? Your sweet pussy just clenches harder when I do this.." He cockily speaks, hovering over you, his big strong arms propped onto the mattress, getting a good view of your pussy stuffed full of his lengthy cock and your tits—, his tits spilled out for him.

The rapid flicking of your swollen clit with his index and middle finger makes you reach out your hand to slap his away, the metalic taste of blood hit your taste buds, the bite on your lower lip stopped you to almost push aside your pride and say that you wanted it harder. But you didn't, your body did, feeling the ecstatic pinch of a building orgasm.

He lets out a throaty, enraptured laugh when you raise your hand to slap his away, the desperateness and your duclet sighs not amiss by him. What were you two fighting about again? Satoru would prefer being a dead man if he had to pick between leaving you to sulk after an argument and dying.

He hummed deeply, immediately grasping your wrists to pin them down to the either sides of your head, his sheer strength holding you down. He leaned in, grazing his lips against yours but not quite kissing you, depriving you of that doting intimacy because he wanted you to suffer a bit more. How dare you try to break up with him? Again a hyperbole in Satoru's mind. It was something very measly in reality and you weren't gonna break up with him.

"Just say it baby..just say you want me to fuck you harder..make love to you, tell me how much you love me..come on sweets.."

"Shut up.. you're so annoying.." You spat but your body was a pure antithesis to that statement when you grinded yourself onto his cock.

"Really..? You beg all annoying people to fuck you baby..? I'm jealous" He pushed further, smirking, the mirth in his voice so clear.

"You-"

"Okay fine! I'll do my job! Don't be so difficult.." He tuted, now the one sulking like a child, though pretentiously as if he himself didn't want to give you a mauling fuck. He didn't care if he had to desperately apologise, you were just so cute to him when you were annoyed.

The next words died down in your throat and that acid in your tone was soon cut off and replaced with coarse, sweet moans, your pupils blown wide when he suddenly bucked up and moved his hips to hit is tip to the hilt with an anchoring grip on your waist. The hit was nothing but brute force, while his face was calm but hazed with lust, a sickening, consuming lust for you, his wife. Although you weren't married yet, in his head you already became Mrs. Gojo the moment he first laid with you.

"You know what? No. You shut up, I've had enough of your bullshit...you're not mad at me anymore..yeah..? You got that..?" He cooes to you not concerned about the gaslighting, in complete contrast to the way his cock was ruthlessly splitting your cunt apart, the sticky, stringy webby mess of your arousal and his pearly cum only made it easier for him fuck you like a fleshlight. The fused sounds of your synchronised moans filled the room with the creaking of the bed underneath.

"Oh.. yeah, just like that Toru..yeah..harder..I love you..m' so close.." You cling onto him, his words proving right as you could do nothing but dwindle down into the pleasurable mess he turned you into, you simply couldn't be mad at him for long. "See? Was that so difficult..? thaaat's it, fucking make a mess on your husband's cock..cum." The soft parting of your lips and the vice grip of your cunt made him almost roll his eyes back at your release.

Husband.

Your nails clawed the beefy mass of his arm, eyes in an outerwordly daze that made him fall for you even more if that was possible at all. Fuck. You were so beautiful to him, he'd make you angry and pound you like this like this all over again if it meant he got to see this visual again. He would never get used to it.

"Toru- mh..yeah.."

"Fuuuck..ha..I love you..M'sorry baby.." He slurred completely enamoured by you and heavenly cunt. Satoru felt his dick just twitch inside you when you told him you loved him, a spark buzzed through his head as if your declaration of love was the only salvation he needed, his confident voice now pleading and needy. He grunted, scooping up your legs from the calves to press your thighs to your chest, plunging into you in a mating press.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..fuuck! Fuck..!" He whimpered loudly, shamelessly while spelling out how he loved you, out so hopelessly. His hips gave in few sharp rams, burying himself deep with a single strong thrust, caulking you with his thick seed, his moans deep and guttural.

He didn't even bother pulling out, letting his weight be on top of yours snugly. He kissed you, with all tongue and teeth in languidity. The palpable tension in the room from earlier now replaced with the scent of sex, sweat, the gentle click sounds of lingering kisses. Satoru let out a deep huff, shifting his body next to yours with a plop on the bed before burying his face into your chest again, pressing damp kisses onto the swell of your breasts, exactly onto the spots where he marked you as his with pretty purple abrasions. His slender digits snaked down to spread apart your labia to watch his cum drop out of you. He always loved that debauched slight.

"If you being mad means I get to fuck you like this.. I'm getting you mad everyday.." He chuckled, blowing an air bubble on your skin. Idiot.

"Oh my god. I'm not fighting over the stupid remote again and stop calling yourself my husband—"

"Sorry for acting like that, it will happen again~" Ofcourse he had no remorse.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

m.list! ₊˚⊹ ʚɞ♡︎ ˚⋅.

[stllmnstr]

sacred monsters: part two

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

part two word count: 12.4k

part two warnings: swearing, more blood and other vampire-y things, me forcing you to read extensive vampire lore, the supernatural elements are ramped up a notch (or, like, eight notches), semi-graphic descriptions and depictions of violence

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

note/disclaimer: and to absolutely no one’s surprise, I cannot stop talking about vampire heeseung, so this story will be more than two parts. this is not the end. I want to say it will be around 4-5. potentially more. (yay if you’re excited, and my apologies if you’re not.) again, I want to name the sources I used to help me create this: the dark moon webtoon is where lots of the lore comes from, and influences from twilight are also scattered throughout. okay I think that’s it. for now at least… as always, happy reading ♡

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A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

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Everything hurts. 

As your consciousness slowly begins to trickle back in, pain is the most prominent sensation. It comes in slow, steady waves. With a certain kind of deep ache. 

Eyes still screwed shut, your brow furrows. The movement only inspires anothing intense wave of throbbing pain that thuds against your temples. 

As senses begin to emerge, you can tell that you’re horizontal. Lying down. The surface beneath you is soft. It dips and curves, gives to the shape of your body. A bed, maybe. 

Delicately, you try moving your right arm. Wiggling your toes. Both are responsive, but there’s a profound soreness sitting deep within your muscle that makes you strain against a whimper from even the tiniest of movements. 

And your throat. It’s so dry. Scraped raw as if someone has taken sandpaper to it. As if you’ve been screaming. 

You inhale deeply, assessing the way air inflates the lungs beneath your ribs. Even there, deep within you, there’s a dull, muted ache. A pain that lingers. As the ensuing exhale leaves your body, you note another sensation. 

The emptiness of your stomach. The deep pangs of hunger that roll like nausea. 

With no small amount of reluctance, you begin the arduous task of opening your eyes. One slow blink that bleeds into another. 

At first, the only thing you see is a vast expanse of white. Blinding light makes you want to squint. Close your eyes again. But it’s nothing but a trick of your own senses. Causes by eyes that have gone unused for an extended period of time. 

Slowly, the space above you begins to take on its true tone. A soft, even light gray that coats the expanse of the ceiling. Turning your head to the side, you ignore the protest of pain from your neck. 

You let your eyes wander for a minute. But as the space around you begins to come into focus, you’re left with more questions than answers. 

Your earlier assertion had been correct. You are lying in a bed. But it’s not the one you’ve grown used to. This isn’t your apartment. 

No, the bedroom around you is an unfamiliar one. But that’s undoubtedly what it is: a bedroom. Threadbare maybe, but with small touches of life. Aside from your current resting place, there’s a desk on the opposite side of the room. A nightstand right next to you. A small lamp that emanate a warm, golden glow. 

Forcing your body into an upright position, you wince at the effort it takes just to sit upright, to maneuver every aching limb into place. 

More details of the room come into focus. A computer monitor and keyboard on the desk. The small stack of books next to it. A record player. A small dresser. Little trinkets of personality, but nothing that serves you now. 

Even through the haze in your sleep-addled mind, you’re sure you’ve never seen any of it before. Why are you here? Where is here?

And why does your body hurt so damn much, nerves under your skin singing like they’ve been wrung out to dry?

The fog in your mind refuses to clear. Soon, another emotion begins to emerge alongside the confusion as the reality of the situation sets in. 

You’re alone. In an unfamiliar room. Hungry as if it’s been days since you’ve eaten. 

Judging from the way your limbs respond to even the most minute of movements, you’re injured. Badly. 

Flexing your left leg again, you wince. Can you even walk right now? 

This is bad. This is very, very bad. 

The beginnings of panic begin to trace your mind. Again, you’re searching the room. This time, however, you focus on memorizing the layout. Finding anything that might be of any use to you, that might help you identify your location. That might help you craft an escape.

Your search turns up two doors, one to your left and one directly across from the foot of the bed. Both are unmarked. Both are pulled shut. 

It’s possible that your panic is premature. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that this was nothing more than the bedroom of a rather minimalistic university student. But if that were the case why did you wake up here alone, head pounding, body aching?

That alone is definitive. Something is very wrong. 

Instinctively, you try to retrace your steps. You must have gotten here somehow. But the more you try to walk back through your memory, the hazier things become. The inside of your mind is like a murky labyrinth, dead ends at every corner. Rearranging and shifting the more you try to focus. 

It’s as if a dense fog has clouded over your ability to think, to recall. No matter how close you get to a memory, you can’t see anything. 

That alone is enough to send another fresh wave of panic straight to your bones. Alone, injured, and you can’t remember any of the events that led you to this strange place. 

Gingerly, you turn your body so that your legs hang off the side of the bed, bare feet resting lightly on the floor. That movement alone requires several of your deep inhales. 

Slowly, you try putting weight on your feet, your legs. It’s not pleasant by any means, but they hold steady. Or at the very least, they don’t buckle beneath you. Aside from the soreness, there’s a distinct fatigue in your extremities. One that gives them a slight shake the longer you try to stand. 

You doubt you can run, but at least you’re not completely immobile. Maybe, given enough adrenaline, you can walk. Crawl. 

But now you’re faced with another dilemma. Two doors. Two points of entry, two potential routes to escape. Or two paths to further danger. Trapped in a windowless room, you have no way of knowing which of your two choices, if any, is better. 

But you can’t just stay here. Backed into a corner, practically a sitting duck. Eyes darting between the two doors, you steel yourself for the inevitable flash of pain fully standing will inevitably cause. 

The door to the left of the bed. The door at the foot of the bed. 

Just as you’ve decided to veer to the right, muscles tensing in anticipation, a knock rings out. Your breath catches in your throat, panic reaching its peak as your heart beats a furious rhythm in your chest. There’s nowhere to hide. Nowhere to go.One rap against the door to your left. Two. Three. 

You won’t make it to the other door in time. Not on your legs. 

There’s a moment of suspended silence. And then, the door is opening. 

Instinctively, you push yourself backwards on the bed., trying to put as much space as physically possible between you and the stranger that enters. 

And a stranger he certainly is. With a tentative sort of slowness, a boy peers around the edge of the door, squinting in the low light. 

When he sees that you’re upright, he pushes into the room fully, closing the door quietly behind him. The glimpse you get over his shoulder doesn’t reveal much. Another room, maybe, but it’s gone too quickly to be certain. 

“You’re awake,” he nods, more to himself than anything. “I thought I heard your heartbeat pick up.”

Back pressed against the wall, you have nowhere left to go. Still hunched as if that will do anything to protect you, you stare at the boy in front of you. 

Maybe, you think. Maybe you could move fast enough to grab the lamp from the nightstand before he realizes what’s happening. Could use it as some sort of weapon, some meager means of self-defense. 

“Who are you?” Your throat is scraped raw. It hurts to speak, to think, to do much of anything. “Where am I?”

“Oh.” The boy pauses for a moment. For the first time since he entered, he stops to look at you. Really look at you. The extent of the terror that’s embedded in your features, written in the positioning of your body. 

Immediately, he stops in his tracks. Retreats a few steps until he’s back at the far edge of the room, just in front of the door he entered from. “Sorry, I guess it was probably quite the shock to wake up here. My name is Jake. You’re in our…” He trails off, searching for the right word. “Well, our home, I suppose.”

For a moment, you just look at him. Chest still rising and falling rapidly as you struggle to even your breathing. You can still feel your pulse in your neck. 

If the situation weren't so disorienting, so terrifyingly confusing, you might be mildly amused by the almost… sheepish look that crosses his features. Where he avoids eye contact with you from the doorframe, this boy certainly doesn’t look like a threat. 

If you had to guess, you’d say that he — Jake — is around your age. With dark hair that falls across his forehead and wide, dark eyes, he has a distinct sort of beauty that almost reminds you of… 

Suddenly, in the confines of your missing memories, you’re grasping at straws again. 

“Specifically,” Jake adds, realizing the information might be pertinent to you, “this is Heeseung’s room.”

Heeseung. You know that name. You think it’s the one you were searching for. 

Heeseung. 

It sparks something. A flicker of a memory. A ghost of the answers you seek. 

You feel like you’re on the verge of a revelation when you ask, “Where is he? Heeseung?”

Jake’s expression betrays no surprise. He’d expected you to ask him that, you realize. It does, however, suddenly appear a bit more guarded. “He’s recovering. That poison he got out of you really did a number on him.”

For a moment, his words do nothing but reverberate in your aching skull. And then—

“Poison?”

Jake just looks at you for a second, brow pulling down in confusion as if you’re the strange one in this situation. As if poison and Heeseung’s apparent removal of it should already be old news. Then, a flicker of realization crosses his features. His brow softens. 

“That’s right,” he mumbles. Again, it seems more for his benefit than yours. “I always forget that moonflower can cause memory loss in humans.”

Moonflower? In humans? 

“Memory loss?”

“It’s only temporary,” Jake says, as if that’s enough to make everything better. “Everything will start to come back soon, I’m sure.” He pauses, frowning. A flicker of sympathy enters his gaze. “I feel like I should warn you, though. Judging from the way you and Heeseung came in here a couple of nights ago, it might be a lot to take in all at once when they do.”

A couple of nights ago. Which means—

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Just over two days. It’s Friday night now. Almost midnight.” While the shock of that settles into your system, Jake continues, “Which reminds me, I brought you some things I thought you might need.”

He turns away from you, opening the door. When he closes it behind him again, he now has two bags in his hand. Carefully, like one might approach a wounded animal, he takes slow footsteps towards you. 

Setting the bags down next to the nightstand, he explains, “This one has water and food. I wasn’t sure what you would like, so feel free to have whatever, and let us know if there’s anything else you want.”

Looking at the second bag, he adds, “I also brought you some clothes. We didn’t really have anything for a girl here. I mean, Sunghoon had a couple of things, but I didn’t really think you’d want them. Sunoo and Niki went out and got some stuff. I’m sure they did their best, but, uh,” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “No promises.”

Jake nods towards the dresser that sits by the desk. “If you hate everything, you can also look through whatever Heeseung has in there. I’m sure he wouldn't mind.”

That name again. Heeseung. There’s nothing solid in your memory, but heat finds itself on your cheekbones anyway. The thought of wearing his clothes just feels like something that should warrant that reaction, even if you’re not sure why. 

“There’s also a bathroom through that door.” Jake jerks his chin towards the door across from the foot of the bed. And maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t have enough time to craft an escape through there, you think. This conversation might have been significantly more awkward in a bathroom. “Feel free to use anything in there, including the shower, if you want. There should be clean towels in the bottom drawer.”

He takes another long look at you, that same sympathy from earlier coloring his gaze. It feels weighted, heavy. As if he’s forseen some great tragedy you’re not yet privy too. As if he knows something you don’t. “I’m sure you have a million questions, but I think you’ll feel better with some food and water in you.” He nods towards the bags he set close to you. “And a fresh change of clothes.” 

He’s probably right. With the urgency of your former panic subsiding, you still don’t feel at ease. But neither fight nor flight seem like appropriate responses to this situation. Which leaves you stuck with a third one: reluctant trust. 

As you make your peace with it, something begins to press at the fog in your mind. It swirls, collects as if being pressed against a glass window. Your memories are still evasive, but there’s something there, in that haze. Syllables stuck on a loop, a constant repetition that begs your attention. 

Heeseung. 

There’s a sudden urgency in your gut. The distinct feeling that things will start to make sense again if you can just see him, talk to him. Jake said that he’s recovering. From poison. But you don’t know what that means, don’t understand what kind of gravity it might hold. 

Vague sentiments conveyed through a messenger are hardly enough to satisfy the tugging in your mind. 

So you ask, “Can I see him? Heeseung?”

Something flickers across Jake’s gaze, too fast for you to catch it fully. Concern maybe. A premonition of fear. Still, he says, “He’s okay. I promise. You’ll be able to see him soon.” For a moment, Jake falls into silence, weighing words on his tongue like he can’t decide if he should share them or not. “But he’s not really in the best shape for visitors right now. Take care of you first, and then we can talk more if you want. And when you’re both ready, you can see Heeseung, too.”

It’s hardly a satisfying answer, but Jake holds the cards here. You have nothing to leverage, nothing to bargain. 

Before he leaves, he reiterates, “I’m sure that your memories will start to come back soon. Like I said, it might be a lot all at once. I’ll let you eat and get changed, if you want. The door locks.” He nods to the door handle. “So does the one on the bathroom door. And please, let me know if you need anything. I’ll be just outside.”

Gently, Jake opens the door, pulls it shut behind him. And then you’re alone again. 

Gone is the frantic terror you awoke with, and left in its wake is a gentler sort of fear. A deep sense of unease that refuses to fade. 

Pushing it aside for now, you attend to your baser needs. Heeding Jake’s advice, you retrieve the first bag he left for you, pulling it up onto the bed. 

The first thing you see is a bottle of water. You make quick work of pulling it out, removing the cap, and taking a long sip. It’s cool, refreshing. Soothes your aching throat before settling heavily at the bottom of your empty stomach. 

Taking another handful of gulps, you replace the cap before setting it on the nightstand. Opening the bag further, you reveal its other contents. 

It’s possibly the strangest assortment of food that you’ve ever seen. Frowning in confusion, you take stock of what you’ve been given. It just gets weirder the more you look at it. It’s as if Jake went to the grocery store and just grabbed the first thing he saw in every aisle with no regard for how they would fit together. As if he hasn’t made himself a meal since the day he was born. 

The first thing you pull out is a box of dry pasta, completely inedible without cooking utensils you currently have no access to. Jake did say you could ask him for anything, but even boiling water has a way of feeling like an insurmountable task in your current state. You move on. 

What follows is hardly better. There’s a singular, unripe avocado, an entire family sized bag of clementine oranges, three boxes of breakfast cereal, a loaf of bread, and — you pause a moment to count — eight different kinds of granola bars. 

Pushing past the strangeness, you figure you don’t need a Michelin star meal to ease the hunger. For now, you decide that one of the granola bars and a clementine look the most appetizing. 

After a few minutes, the blunt edges of hunger lose their sharpness. But even with a bit of food in your system, the nausea hold steady. 

Mind addled, you curse yourself for not asking him the most obvious question. What the hell happened to you? 

But he did say your memories should be coming back soon, and you decide you’ll just have to trust in that for now. 

Next, you reach for the bag of clothes. You didn’t think it was possible, but it somehow manages to be even stranger than the food. 

To your shoppers’ credit, they are girls’ clothes, yes, but it seems that was the only criteria for selection. It’s the dead of winter, and the first two things you pull out are a pair of denim shorts and a sundress. Frowning, you refold them both, placing them back in the bag. At least they still have their tags. Hopefully the two boys Jake mentioned kept their receipt. 

That leaves you with your other option. Glancing over at the dresser, his dresser, you’re at an impasse. 

Even with gaping holes in your memory, it feels invasive, far too intimate to look through his things. To go through his clothes until you find something that suits you. To wear it without his permission. 

Taking a sidelong glance at the pair of denim shorts, you decide you don’t have all that much pride left to barter, anyway. After all, you work up disoriented, weak, and missing all of your memories in the boy’s bed. What’s a spare change of clothes in comparison with that?

As you gingerly pad your way to the dresser, you decide it feels less like snooping if you only reach for what’s on top. Luck is on your side. The first thing you see when you open the top drawer is a sweatshirt and matching pair of sweatpants, both of which are ridiculously soft. 

Stolen goods in tow, you continue towards the bathroom door. Pulling it closed behind you, you see that Jake was telling the truth. The lock slides into place with a small click.  

Like his bedroom, Heeseung’s bathroom is fairly nondescript. Devoid of decor, it holds what he needs and little else. Opening the bottom drawer of the vanity, you find a clean towel and set it down on the counter, next to the clothes. 

Lifting your head, you catch your reflection in the mirror. It’s enough to have you double take. You almost don’t recognize yourself. The tangled mess of hair and dark circles of exhaustion beneath your eyes are things you could forgive. Two days of straight sleep is enough to wreak at least a little havoc on anyone. 

But that’s not what has your reflection freezing. 

Delicately, as if the truth will somehow be less awful if revealed slowly, you tilt your head to the side. Pull your hair away, tuck it behind your ear. Expose the dark, mottled assortment of discolored marks that extend all the way from your jaw to the base of your neck. 

Bruises. Deep, dark bruises. 

And on top of them, uneven, flaky patches of multicolored crimson. Dried blood, you realize as your stomach gives a sickening lurch. 

Is it yours? Heeseung’s? Someone else’s? 

The fog in your mind suddenly feels like an enclosure. Holding you hostage and dangling your forgotten memories just out of reach. Trapping you in the darkness and offering no way out, no way through. Just a dim candle against the vast, midnight darkness of terror. 

You’re too wrung out to cry, too confused to so much as gasp. As reality unfolds, devastation seems to be the norm, not the exception. Even if your throat weren’t raw, you’re not sure you’d scream. 

With trepidation, you raise a hand, watching the way your fingers tremble in your reflection. And then your run a gentle touch over the evidence of destruction, a war waged on your skin. Once it nears your jaw, you feel something. A small bump that has you hissing at the contact. 

Leaning forward, you examine it closer. It’s a tiny wound, barely perceptible. It reminds you of a vaccination at the doctor’s office. Neat, sterile. 

Enough to be confusing, yes. Arguably even concerning. But it’s not what has you reeling. 

Because around the tiny mark are two more puncture wounds. Perfectly circular still, but decidedly larger. Rougher. Deeper. They’re embedded into your skin on either side of the smaller wound. And if you didn’t know any better, if your mind had any more capacity for the impossible, you’d almost think they look like…

You’d almost think they look like bite marks. 

The longer you stare, the more sinister they appear. The more hopelessly horrified you feel. What happened to you? Why does the side of your neck look like a watercolor painting of violets? Why does it look like you’ve been bitten?

If this is what you look like, what kind of state is Heeseung in? Jake said it himself that he’s in no condition for visitors. 

What if he’s not recovering as well as Jake said? What if it’s your fault—?

No. You won’t let yourself spiral there. 

Memories, you just need your memories. 

Which means you just need a little more time. 

The shower, to your relief, has plenty of hot water to spare. For long minutes, you just stand there, letting it pour over you, your skin, your aching muscles. As water seeps through the drain, it carries some of your tension with it.

You watch as the water that circles the drain runs red before it clears again, blood washed away from your skin.

It’s instinct, mostly. The desire to confirm what you already know, that has you retracing the strange marks on your neck. 

A hiss of pain is the only thing that ensues in response at first. But then something else comes. 

A flicker of a memory. 

A strange place, a dark room. 

New Haven. The publishing house. Because you had gone there to meet Professor Kim, to show him your draft, to see the space you’d won an internship in. 

It’s coming back now, in fragments. 

There had been something strange, though. It was dark when you arrived. Dark and empty and quiet until—

Until suddenly it wasn’t. Until Heeseung was there with you.

Warm water traces steady lines on your skin. Your memory reappears in tangled, discombobulated jumbles. Things clicking into place as you do your best to sort them chronologically. 

Heeseung was there, but he wasn’t supposed to be. You had gone there to see Professor Kim. Why wasn’t he—?

The sudden flash of memory is sickening. Has another bout of nausea threatening the contents of your stomach. 

It all comes back, all at once. Replaying like a nightmare, like a scene plucked from a horror film. 

Blood dripping from your professor’s mouth. Clothes tattered on his body. Heeseung shielding you, protecting you. 

But Professor Kim wasn’t himself. He wasn’t right. He threw something at you. Something that hit you right where he intended. 

Without your permission, your fingers are back on the slippery skin of your neck. The blood is gone, but the wound remains just the same. The wound that Professor Kim gave to you. 

You remember the feeling of floating, of being distant from your body, removed from reality. Mind on some other plane of existence. 

You remember gentle, insistent, desperate hands on your waist. Your jaw. Your forehead. 

Heeseung, bent over you, consuming your limited plane of vision as your eyelids became too heavy to remain open. 

Pain in your neck. Sharp at first. Then dull, numbing. 

Heeseung. Heeseung bit you. Held you in his arms as consciousness drained from your body along with your blood. 

Poison, Jake had called it. ‘Poison he got out of you.’

It’s all so strange. They’re your memories, yes, and you’re sure of them, but why was there poison in your neck? Why was biting you the solution? How did his teeth leave such perfectly circular marks on—?

The final puzzle piece clicks into place. 

Vampire attacks. You had been worried about Heeseung, relieved to see him safe and sound at New Haven. Because you had just read about vampire attacks. 

Robotically, you turn the water off. Step out of the shower, wrap a towel around your body. 

His clothes are soft against your skin. 

Heeseung saved you. Of that, you’re sure. But what about the three people at the river? The three victims of a vampire attack?

It can’t be true. It can’t. You don’t know him, not really, but he’s just… Heeseung. 

An annoyingly competent poet and a massive pain in your ass. Someone that walks you home when you stay too late in the library. Someone that calls your writing awful when it is, when you need a cold, hard reality check. 

He’s… he’s just Heeseung. He’s not a—

You can’t even bring yourself to finish the thought. 

But your memories are back, and there’s a alertness to your mind that only sharpens as the fog clears. 

At the edge of your mind, Jake’s voice replays. Something you glossed over in your confusion, something you fixate on now. 

“I always forget that moonflower can cause memory loss in humans.”

“I thought I heard your heartbeat pick up.”

The strange assortment of food. Jake’s undeniable, uncanny beauty. The kind you’ve only ever seen in one other person. 

Jake was right. You do feel a bit better with food and water in your stomach. With the last three days of horror washed off of your skin. But your mind is alert now. The memories are coming back. Puzzle pieces rearranging and clicking into place with alarming accuracy. 

And as the dust settles, you’re suddenly very, very afraid of the reality that greets you. 

In your mind, the facts play on a loop. 

You don’t know where you are. You don’t know how to leave. Jake has been nothing but kind, but if he so wished, you’re sure he could overpower you easily. And he insinuated that he’s not the only one here. 

You need answers. You need to leave. But Heeseung…

You have to know. 

Is the boy you’ve been trying to outwrite for months, the boy you shared a moment under a moonlit sky with, is he a… a vampire?

Why was he at New Haven that day? Did he know about Professor Kim? Did he know about the deaths at the river? Was he complicit in them? Was he responsible for them?

Clothed in determination and a fleeting moment of bravery, you undo the lock on the bathroom door, passing through the bedroom, his bedroom, on furious footsteps. The second door opens just as easily as the bathroom had, and suddenly, you’re in the room you caught just a glimpse of before. A living room, of sorts. Some sort of common area. 

True to his earlier word, Jake sits nearby. Planted on a navy sofa, he looks up when you enter. “How are you feeling? Do you need any—”

Manners are the last thing on your mind when you interrupt him mid-sentence. “What are you?” Not ‘who are you.’ That won’t give you the answer you seek. The difference is subtle. The difference is cavernous. 

Jake’s mouth falls shut, presses into a line. Hesitation paints his features. “I don’t think this is the best—”

You won’t hear it. “What are you?”

Jake holds up his palms in surrender. “Your memories are starting to come back, I take it. Look, we can explain everything, just—”

On the far end of the room, another door opens. Another boy enters. Just like Heeseung, just like Jake, he’s beautiful. Moves with that same unnatural grace that you used to admire when you thought no one would notice. Now, it has another surge of nausea rolling in your stomach. 

Jake glances at the new arrival. He sighs. “This isn’t really a good time, Sunghoon. Why don’t you—”

The boy, Sunghoon, never hears Jake’s suggestion. Instead, he cuts him off. And once again, your world is spinning. 

“He’s back.”

…..

You are the last to enter the strange room. On the heels of Jake and Sunghoon, despite the former’s insistence that you wait and see him later, you take in your surroundings. 

Odd enough was the long, winding hallway that led you here, but this is even stranger. Instead of a proper door, the room is guarded by long, thick metal bars. They stand ajar now but bear a rather impressive lock. You have the distinct impression that this place was designed to keep people out. Or maybe rather to keep someone in. 

You hear him before you see him. Memories recovered, the sound of his voice is something you’re well attuned to, even if it flickers with a strong tone of annoyance. 

“Yes, I’m fine. I told you, it’s a ridiculously strong sedative at its core. We’ll react strangely, yes, but it’s not the same as bloodlust—”

“Still,” another voice argues. “We all saw how she looked when you brought her in. You had to have drank a considerable amount—”

“I told you I’m fine, Jungwon,” Heeseung counters. “Do I look out of control to you? Would I be sitting here having this conversation with you if I was?”

“Fine.” It’s the same voice. Jungwon. “If you’re alive and well, then maybe you can answer my question. What were you doing at New Haven? Do you know how long we’ve—”

It’s probably stupid, shoving past people in their own home. People that you suspect are dangerous, that might not really be people at all. But you have to see him. You have to know. 

Once you finally get around Sunghoon, your view of the room opens up. Sparsely decorated, dimly lit, and there are four other boys you don’t recognize. You pay them no attention. 

Because in the middle of it all stands Heeseung. Maybe, if you squint, you could argue that he looks a little worse for wear. There’s a pink flush under his eyes, a slight disarray to his usually perfect hair, but other than that, he paints the perfect, untouchable picture he always has. 

At the commotion of your sudden movement, all eyes in the room turn from Heeseung and land squarely on you. For a moment, seven gazes just look at you. All of them are blank. Lost. Out of depth. 

All except for the one you match. 

Where he stands, Heeseung stares at you with an intensity you’ve only seen once before. In a moment you wish you could forget. In a fragmented memory you already know you’re cursed to carry forever. 

Slowly, his eyes scan the length of your body, something in his jaw tightening when he notes the clothes you’re wearing. His clothes. 

Jungwon is still pressing him for answers. Heeseung doesn’t bother to provide any. 

Instead, he says, “Give us a minute.”

He’s still looking at you. Frozen in place, his eyes trace the line of your neck, ghosting over the array of bruises, the twin wounds he left there. His voice betrays no emotion, but his eyes flash with something that looks all too much like regret, shame. 

Jungwon balks for a moment. “No, I’m not giving you a minute. You could have jeopardized everything we’ve been working towards—”

Heeseung does break eye contact with you then. Turning to the boy that stands next to him, he says, “What’s done is done, Jungwon. A few more minutes won’t change that. You can shout at me some more in a minute.”

“Ouch.” A boy that you don’t recognize winces. 

“Right?” another one of the strangers agrees. “A pretty human over five hundred years of brotherhood.” He shakes his head. “I’d expect that from Sunghoon, maybe, but—”

Behind you, Jake sighs. “Is this really the time, you two?”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon agrees, arms crossing his chest as he pouts. “And I take offense to that, you know. I would not put all of your hard work in danger for a human.” Sunghoon takes a sidelong glance at you. “No offense.”

“Just give us a minute,” Heeseung repeats again, more command in his voice this time as he slides a palm through his hair in frustration. “Please. All of you.”

There’s enough authority in his voice time. Or maybe enough pleading. Whatever it is, the rest of the room files out, one by one. Even Jungwon, although he does cast one final, warning look over his shoulder. 

It’s lost on Heeseung, who has already turned his attention back to you. “Are you okay?” 

An echo of the past, a reminder of why you’re here. Of why your throat threatens to close up now, just looking at him.  

Even if you wanted to, you have no idea how you’d answer him. Physically, you’re sore. Tired even though you’ve been sleeping for days. Temporary aches. Things that will heal with rest and time. 

Mentally, though… Your mind is spinning a million miles a minute. Even now, face to face with him, you can’t reconcile all of the pieces of Heeseung you’ve gathered. 

Indifferent student. Brilliant writer. Honest reviewer. Maybe even a friend. 

Vampire. 

You don’t know what to make of him. You don’t know how to piece him together. 

He’s here, standing in front of you. You used to stare at the back of his head during lectures. Used to fantasize about him giving you a minute of his time. 

And now, it’s just the two of you. Alone. His eyes search your face, his focus consumed by you. And he’s never felt further away. 

You don't answer his question. Instead, you ask one of your own. 

“What’s going on?” Your voice is small, holds none of the command you wish it could. “And don’t… don’t you dare lie to me.”

Across from you, Heeseung exhales. There’s a distinct sorrow in his eyes. “I won’t. But it’s a long story. And there are parts of it I’m not sure you’ll like.”

“I don’t care.” But you do, so much that it hurts. You almost wish you were still begging for scraps of his attention. At least then, you knew where you stood. “I want the truth.” That much, at least, is honest. 

Heeseung nods, as if any of this is simple. “Then you’ll have it.”

A beat of silence passes. You remember the question you had asked Jake less than an hour ago. What are you? You can’t quite bring yourself to ask it now. Not with everything that has passed between you. Not when it feels like more of an accusation than an inquiry. 

You wear his wounds on your skin. You don’t know why you still want to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Still, you ask, “Who are you?” The difference is subtle. The difference is cavernous. 

Heeseung doesn’t smile, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his lips. “I’m not undercover. My name is Heeseung.” The flicker of amusement dies. He knows what you’re really asking him. He knows it’s not an easy answer to give, not an easy truth to receive. “But I’m… different. I was born with a strange ability.”

You breathe. “What kind of ability?”

Heeseung looks down at his hands. Studies them for a moment before turning back to you. “It would be easier to show you, if you’ll let me.”

Instinctively, your hand finds the wound on your neck. 

A dark shadow crosses Heeseung’s features. “That’s not the ability I’m referring to.” 

There’s a chair in the room, just behind him. He walks to it and sits down at the edge, knees wide. “Come here.”

You shouldn’t. You should stay as far away as space allows. You shouldn’t let him do anything. In every sense of the word, he holds the advantage here. You’re in his home. He has knowledge you don’t. The only thing you have left to leverage is the distance between you and your decision to maintain it. 

But every inch between you was doomed to be a losing battle. Steady, slow footsteps erase the distance between you as you come to stand directly in front of him. 

At this angle, with your positioning, he’s forced to look up at you. Chin lifted, he whispers, “Hold out your hand.”

You could try to fight. You could question him. You don’t. Resistance was always going to be futile. In no time at all, your hand is outstretched. 

Once again, Heeseung studies his own fingers. A shudder traces the length of his spine. Hesitation spills from every minute movement, every microexpression you’re allowed. It’s straining him, you realize. This ability is not something he’s excited to share. 

You can’t decide if that eases your worry or increases it tenfold. 

But after another wasted moment, his right hand reaches out to encircle the skin of your left wrist. For a few stilted heartbeats, it’s just the two of you in a strange room, a cage of sorts, your wrist cradled in his loose grip. 

Then, your vision begins to flicker. At first, you think it’s a trick of the light. Something lingering side effect of a long sleep as everything begins to go out of focus. 

But as the room around you fades, something takes its place. It takes a moment to manifest completely, for your eyes to adjust. 

In front of you, Heeseung still sits in his chair, gaze trained on your wide eyes. But the two of you are no longer in the small, threadbare room. Instead, you stand in an open field, freckled with wildflowers and teeming with butterflies. Above you, the sky is blue and vast, the late summer sun casting a vibrant glow over everything. 

In your shock, you nearly wrench your arm out of Heeseung’s grip. He senses the movement, tightens his fingers around your wrist before you can pull away. 

“Sorry.” He glances at where you two are touching. “It’s better not to break contact once you’re in. It’s quite disorienting if you do. And it will give you awful motion sickness.”

Once you’re in where? Turning your head, you look for something, anything, that makes even the tiniest bit of sense. But all you see is grass. The vast expanse of an open field that only ends where it meets the sky. 

“Where are we?”

“Still in the same room,” Heeseung says. “Physically, at least.” He takes a deep breath. “This is the ability I referred to. It’s a bit difficult to describe, but I can… project my consciousness, I guess. As long as we maintain physical contact, I can show you things from my mind. Memories, visions, anything I dream up. What you see now is the field where I discovered my ability, actually. A friend and I were playing here. I was ten.” He pauses, looks at you. “The year was 1534.”

The full weight of his words barely has time to settle before the vision is morphing, the scene changing into another. 

“It’s difficult to know where to start, but I suppose the beginning is as good a place as any. In the Kingdom of Celedis,” he narrates, “there were eight noble families that had been feuding with each other for over a century. As a result of their petty infighting, the common people suffered. There was constant strife throughout the kingdom. Pains that caused immense suffering but left the nobles untouched. There were frequent blockades, limits on trading, restricted movement, and nasty skirmishes along the borders. Petty crime ran rampant, unchecked. People weren’t safe anywhere, not even in their homes.”

You see it just as he imagines it. Tired, hungry, exhausted people. Mistreated and left to the whims of whatever best suited the nobles’ current desires. 

And the rulers, the nobles themselves. Eight men, adorned in finery, showered with gifts and praise and fine wines while the people just outside the walls of their ornate homes suffered just to survive, starving to death while they gorged themselves on luxury. 

You wouldn’t consider yourself an expert in history, and it’s not like the scenario is exactly uncommon, but you still find it strange that you’ve never heard of this place, not even in passing. 

“Celedis?” You frown. 

“It’s been erased now,” is all Heeseung says. “From both existence and memory. But it was real, a long time ago. And it was where I was born.”

Again, the scene around you starts to take on that odd, unfocused quality. It’s changing again. By now, you almost feel accustomed to the way images and light start to distort as one vision bleeds into another. 

“Celedis was a strange kingdom,” Heeseung continues. “Full of old magic. Ancient rituals and rites that faded from most places but held true there. The land was, in many ways, just as alive as you and I. And it grew weary of seeing its people suffer.”

You see a man now, dressed in simple clothes, tucked in the back corner of what appears to be a shop. He’s surrounded by crystals, trinkets, and old, leather-bound books. 

“One night, the eight noble lords received a message from a seer, one that claimed to communicate with the land, to speak for Celedis as its messenger. The seer told them that the old magic of the land would grant them a single wish on one condition: There had to be peace in the kingdom by the night of the blood moon. A night that comes only once every hundred years. When the moon itself shines bright red.  

“Seven of the lords, eager to have a wish granted, did as the seer advised. They ceased their fighting, recalled their troops. Began to support and protect their people once again. The eighth lord, however, did not.”

After a moment, you’re plunged into darkness. Above you, the night sky of Heeseung’s mind twinkles with distant stars and a distinct, crimson red moon. Seven men, all dressed in finery, stand around an oak tree. The rules of Heeseung’s ability don’t seem to be governed by the laws of physics. You watch as an eighth man appears, seemingly out of thin air. The same man from the crystal shop. 

“The seven who heeded the seer’s advice gathered on the night of the blood moon to pass along their wish — they wanted their bloodlines to endure forever. 

“The seer passed this message along, but old magic is a fickle thing. You have to be precise with your words, or things will be lost in translation. Interpreted in strange ways.”

Now, you stand in a nursery. There’s a crib in the corner. A pregnant woman bends over it, singing a soft lullaby. 

“Within the year, each of the seven noble lords gave birth to a son. They took this with great joy, a sign that their wish had come true. Before the year reached its end, each of the seven had procured a strong, healthy heir to succeed them.”

Suddenly, you’re back in the endless field from before, watching two young boys play in the distance. 

“But these were no ordinary sons. And around the age of ten, each of them revealed a special ability, a supernatural gift.” 

The two boys are playing a game, you realize. You can’t decipher the rules, but you watch as they throw their heads back in a burst of carefree laughter. The first young boy grabs his friend by the wrist. A harmless gesture. A meaningless touch. 

The second boy recoils as if he’s been burned. Hand back at his side, he doubles over in pain, emptying the contents of his stomach. 

In front of you, Heeseung looks away. 

In the distance, another version of Heeseung apologizes profusely as the other child turns his back. 

He changes the scene before you can watch any further. 

You’re in a bedroom now, watching a young man put on a jacket. It’s startling, almost, how similar he looks. The two of you watch as Heeseung, because it is undoubtedly him, pulls the jacket over his back, slides his arms through the sleeves. 

The resemblance is so uncanny that the only thing that sets this Heeseung apart, really, is the style of his clothing. The coat that obviously belongs to another century, lost to time. 

“And once each son reached their twenty-first birthday,” Heesung says. “They stopped aging.”

Heeseung and his jacket dissolve, change into something else. The new scene you look out upon is somber. Heeseung is there again, this time dressed in all black. The clothes of a mourner. Aside from that, he looks exactly the same. 

Then you see the casket. The portrait standing next to it. It’s her, you realize. The woman from the nursery, the one who hummed the lullaby. Much, much older though. Fifty years older. Maybe sixty. 

You look at this vision’s Heeseung again. He hasn’t aged a day. Still the epitome of youth, even as he mourns the death of his mother. 

“This was the interpretation of the wish, how it was warped through old magic. The bloodline would endure forever, because each son that had been born in the year of the blood moon was born immortal. But by doing so, the seven lords’ wish had also effectively ended their bloodline. Their sons would never grow old, never bear children. And none were ever given a sibling. 

“The eighth lord, the one that did not agree to peace and therefore did not receive a wish, had not yet foreseen this tragedy. He didn’t understand the implications of immortality, the terrible burden it brings. All he saw was an opportunity that he had lost. In his eyes, it had been stolen.”

You watch as the eighth lord bangs on the door of the crystal shop, face red, fury obvious in every inch of his visage. 

“When he discovered the nature of the gift the other lords had been given, the eighth became enraged. He went to the seer and demanded that he pass along his wish to the old magic of the land. That his son, born as an ordinary human, would also be given the gift of immortality.”

In front of you, the lord lunges at the seer, rage in his eyes. The seer raises his hands in a pitiful attempt at self-defense. 

“The seer pleaded with the lord. He tried to explain that he had no way of passing his request along. That the ability to communicate with old magic was not something he could do whenever he so pleased.”

The scene changes, the seer and his shop disappearing. Again, you see the oak tree. This time, though, it is only the eighth lord that stands before it. His eyes are sunken, shaded with deep, dark shadows. A mad desperation is painted across his features. 

“After murdering the seer for his insolence, the eighth lord went to the oak tree, a place rumored to be full of old magic. He wished for his son to become like the other seven sons, and he gave the seer’s blood as an offering.” 

The scene morphs again, fading until you’re surrounded by the ghastliest thing you’ve seen yet. You and Heeseung are in a small room. In the center, there’s an ornate dining table adorned with expensive cutlery and fine china. Lined with a lacy white tablecloth. 

And blood. The room, the tablecloth, the plates, are covered in dark, red blood. 

“There was one last thing that the eighth lord did not yet understand about immortality. About the other seven sons.”

One by one, you watch as they appear. 

Jake. Sunghoon. Jungwon. The others whose names you do not yet know. Heeseung.

Their mouths, clothes, faces, are all covered in it, dripping with it. Blood. 

“The old magic, above all, favors balance. In exchange for eternal life, it deemed that the only thing capable of sustaining it would be the life of others. Their blood. Once a year, on the anniversary of the day the seven noble lords cast their selfish wish, their seven sons would need to feed. To consume blood. This would sustain them for the rest of the year. They did not need to eat, drink, or sleep on any other day.

“But that one day, every year, they would always need blood.”

The horror of the bloody dining room fades. Now, you see the eighth son. Your eyes widen in fear as the image continues to develop in front of you, one ghastly scene traded for another. He is in a throne room, back bent unnaturally, a predatory glint in his eyes. Blood covers his mouth, his jaw. And as he rises to his full height, the rest of the horror is unveiled. 

He stands above the pale, drained, lifeless body of his father. 

“As I said before, old magic is a fickle thing. It listened to the eighth lord’s request that his son ‘become like the other seven sons,’ but not everything was the same. He was granted immortality, yes, and he also needed to consume blood to sustain himself. Unlike the original seven, he needed to feed frequently. Consume blood often. If he didn’t, the urges would drive him mad. Send him into a frenzy. 

“It was in such a state that he killed his own father. Murdered the rest of his family and every other living soul he found in the castle.”

You now stand in the dim light of a castle corridor. Beams of moonlight cast a cool glow as a soft breeze rustles tree branches just outside the window. It’s quiet, eerily so. In front of you, a person lies motionless. The wound on their neck matches yours, but instead of bruising, it’s surrounded by fresh blood. 

You watch in silent horror as the eighth son’s victim begins to twitch. At first, it’s just the fingers of their left hand. A spasm that shakes their shoulder. And then their mouth opens, face contorted in agony as they let out a long, blood curdling scream. 

Heeseung spares you the burden of hearing it.

“One of his victims, however, he did not drain fully of blood. Lost to his instinct, he had gorged himself so full that he could drink no more. This human, nearly dead, began to transform. And after long hours of acute agony, turned into a vampire of the same nature as the eighth son. Uncontrollable. Frenzied. And full of bloodlust.”

It reminds you of a montage, the scene that plays next. Still standing in front of Heeseung, your wrist still between his fingers, you watch as villages appear and fade. Families, lovers, children running in fear as the domino effect begins to take place. As one vampire becomes ten. As they fall into bloodlust, leaving a bloody path in their wake. 

The image of a young woman, mouth agape and features frozen in terror, remains imprinted on the backs of your eyelids as the small, dark room of Heeseung’s home comes back into view. As the last of the illusion fades, he releases his grip, freeing you from his ability. 

Your arm falls limply to your side. 

“For years,” he tells you, and there’s no image to accompany his words now. Nowhere to look but his eyes. “We just existed. Tried to carve meaning into our lives, tried to find a reason to keep living once it became apparent that was never something we would need to fight for. 

“But terror continued to reign. Vampire populations continued to spread and after three hundred long years of acting only in our own self-interest, we decided to intervene. To help the human effort to eradicate vampirism and the blight it had become. 

“But we never wanted to become judge, jury, or executioner. And playing god was never something we found pleasure in. We let many live. Vampires that demonstrated restraint, that chose to live far away from humans. Vampires that we came across on days we were tired of killing. Of being monsters.”

His words hang heavy between you. Was it a mistake, not finishing the job? Was it mercy?

“Professor Kim is what brought us here, actually. He has an unnaturally high level of control over his instincts. One we’ve never seen from a descendent of the eighth son.”

You inhale, more pieces beginning to fall into place. “So you enrolled in his course—”

“With the intention of winning the internship, yes,” he confirms. “Of getting a chance to study him up close.” 

Heeseung smiles wryly. “You were quite the pain at first, actually. After those first few days of class, I wasn’t so sure I could outwrite you.”

You have no idea what to say to that. An apology feels strange, but he’s just told you that you essentially foiled a grand plan to reduce the threat of vampires, to better understand their nature. “I…”

Heeseung pushes on, “It didn’t end up mattering, though.” He frowns. “The last day of the semester, the day I was late. I’d been following him. Trailing him from his house when he…” He trails off. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what happened. But I think he scented me. Or somehow realized I was on his tail.”

You frown. “Is that unusual?” You remember Jake’s words earlier. I thought I heard your heartbeat pick up. “I thought that vampires had heightened senses.”

“We do,” Heeseung clarifies. “But there are differences between us — the original seven — and all other vampires. Our senses are much stronger. They still have sharper senses than a human, yes, but I accounted for that. He shouldn’t have been able to detect me.”

“What are the other differences?”

“The seven of us are the only ones with any kind of additional abilities. We each have one, and they’re all different. We only need to feed once a year, and we have far more control over our instincts. We don’t experience bloodlust nearly as strong.” He passes you a meaningful glance. “Unless we’re feeding.”

Looking around, Heeseung confirms your suspicions.  “That’s what this room is, actually. A precautionary measure. It hasn’t happened in the last five hundred years, but we like knowing that there’s somewhere we won’t be able to escape, should the need for that ever arise.” 

“And you’re in here, because you… you drank my blood.”

Heeseung’s expression is unreadable. “Yes. The others thought it would be wise. It was precautionary. And ultimately unnecessary.” Again, he glances at your neck. “I didn’t experience any bloodlust. I was weak for a couple of days, but that wasn’t because of you. The dart that the professor shot you with had traces of moonflower in it. It’s poisonous for us.” 

As he looks at you, he explains, “Humans can ingest it safely in small doses, usually. Some brew it as a tea. You just have to be careful not to have too much, since it can cause temporary memory loss. But injected straight into the bloodstream, the effects are unknown.” His eyes flicker with a memory. You, crumpled in his arms, losing your grip on consciousness. “But it didn’t look good.”

So he had sucked it out of your neck. 

Your neck. Where he bit you.

Another piece of the vision he’s just shown you comes flashing back. 

“You bit me.” 

Heeseung meets your gaze. “I did.”

“Am I…” It’s hard to quell the panic once the realization starts to set in. Flashes of faces contorted in agony swim across your vision. “Am I going to change?”

“No,” Heeseung shakes his head. Leans forward, as if to reach for you. He thinks better of it, letting his hand fall back to his side. “No, that’s another difference. The seven of us can’t create new vampires.”

“Oh.” As the panic ebbs, you find yourself at a loss again. He saved you. Knowingly ingested a substance that could harm him to do so. Gratitude feels in order, but you can’t quite bring yourself to express it. 

The truth you want most to avoid dances on the tip of your tongue. “And you only… feed once a year.”

Again, Heeseung nods. “It doesn’t hurt us to ingest blood more frequently, but it’s not necessary. And like I said, we avoid it. We’re better at maintaining our inhibitions, but blood still has power over us. When we feed, it’s in a room like this. One we can’t get out of until we have complete control again.”

The questions that arise are morbid. How much blood is required to satisfy a year’s worth of thirst? How do they choose? Who lives, who dies for the hunger that binds them to this world? In the last five hundred years, how much blood has been washed from their hands, from his hands?

You can hardly ask him, but the truth still remains. “You’ve killed people.”

Heeseung’s gaze falls to the floor. “I won’t pretend to be innocent.” There’s a distinct edge of self-loathing when he says, “I won’t pretend that I’m not still… a monster. But the blood we ingest comes from animals, not humans.” 

He looks back to you, gaze searching as if he craves something from you. A flicker of trust. The reassurance that you’re not appalled by him, by everything he’s told you. 

You match his eye, and he hates the fear he finds reflected there. 

A moment of stilted silence passes. Another. The weight of a million revelations and a thousand unanswered questions rests heavily between you. It’s a lot to digest all at once. Too much. So much that your mind struggles to bear the weight of it all, to organize the information you’ve received into categories that give sense to the illogical, the impossible. 

Outside the barred door, you hear the whisper of a scuffle. 

“Stop that!”

“Move over. It’s been way more than a minute. I don’t care what he says. I’m going to—”

Heeseung sighs, rolling his eyes as he turns towards the door. “Just come in if you’re going to.”

Six boys tumble through the door in an excited heap. It reminds you a bit of overenthusiastic puppies. Again, you find the differences hard to reconcile. Killers. Monsters. Immortals beings with unnatural powers. 

And they look about as threatening as a gang of kittens. 

“So,” Jake starts, glancing between the two of you. “Did he tell you everything?”

You spare a look at Heeseung. The long fingers that rest at his side. “Showed me, actually.”

A flicker of surprise crosses Jake’s features. “Oh.” He tamps it quickly. “That is more efficient, I suppose.”

“Well,” another boy pipes up, one you don’t yet have a name for. “At least now you know why he’s been following you home like a lovesick puppy every night. You can rest assured he’s not just some crazy stalker, and he—”

“Jay,” Heeseung bites. “Would you shut up already?”

“You’ve been following me?”

“Oh.” Jay winces, realizing the misstep a moment too late. “Sorry, man.” 

Heeseung exhales again. “We were worried Professor Kim might do something,” he explains, looking at you. “It was a precautionary measure.” 

Behind you, you hear a snicker. “Precautionary measure, my ass.”

But you’re too caught up in a sudden realization. Your professor. “It was Professor Kim, then. Those bodies at the river…”

“No, actually.” Jake shakes his head. “We don’t think he was responsible for the bodies at the river.” He nods towards another boy. “Sunoo had eyes on him that night. He was home when the attacks occurred.” 

You frown. “So who was?”

“We don’t know.” Jungwon’s ire may not be directed at you, but you feel it all the same. “We have no idea, and your professor was our best shot at figuring it out.” He looks at Heeseung. “Thanks to the stunt you pulled, we have no way of getting closer to him now.”

Heeseung glares back. “If by stunt, you mean saving someone’s life, then yes, I pulled a stunt.”

“And now there have been three more attacks in the last two days!”

“Wait.” For a moment, your voice reverberates off the walls as all seven of them fall into silence, gazes turning to you. Your face heats at the sudden influx of attention. Finding your words again, you state the obvious oddity. “But it doesn’t make any sense that Professor Kim is a vampire. He hates vampires. Everything New Haven has published is essentially just anti-vampire propaganda.”

“That’s another mystery,” Heeseung says. “Something else we were trying to figure out. And honestly, Jungwon, I don’t think it would have mattered. I told you, he scented me that day, so I’m sure he already knew—”

“That’s impossible.” Jungwon scoffs. 

“And yet it happened.” Heeseung frowns. “There’s something strange about him.”

Jungwon’s lips pull into a thin line. “Something that we’re no closer to finding out. It will take months for another one of us to get any sort of trust from him. Never mind access to New Haven.”

With the urgency of an alarm bell, an idea starts to take form in your mind. Rough around the edges but solid in shape. “I think I can help with that.” Again, seven pairs of eyes fall on you, all in varying states of disbelief. “I’m interning with him. At New Haven.”

Heeseung is the first to break the silence. “Like hell you are. Or did you forget that the last time he saw you, he shot you with poison?”

Sunghoon nods. “It does seem like a pretty bad idea.”

“No, it doesn’t.” You shake your head. “Think about it. He shot me with something that’s poisonous to vampires. And I think it’s because he saw Heeseung. If he really did… scent you, then he knew you were a vampire. I think… I think he might have been trying to protect me.”

The room is quiet for a moment, your inference settling into the air. It’s a long shot maybe, but it’s starting to come together. 

After a minute, Sunoo says tentatively, “She might be right.” No one else speaks up, but you see a few heads nod in agreement. 

Heeseung is quick to shut them down. “No way. No fucking way. Those are terrible odds, and I’m not betting on them. None of you should be either.”

But the more you think about it, the more it makes sense to you. Why else would your professor shoot you full of something poisonous to vampires? 

You try to think of the scene from his eyes. He walked in on you and Heeseung alone in a dark room. You were frightened out of your mind, and in the split second he had to analyze things, he could have misjudged the source of your fear. One vampire for another. 

So you double down. “I’m serious. This could be the in we need.”

“There is no we,” Heeseung shakes his head. “You’re not a part of this.”

His dismissal makes you bristle. If what Jungwon said is true, the attacks are only increasing, leaving more victims in their wake. And your professor may have unusual amounts of control, but he certainly wasn’t demonstrating that two nights ago. 

“So what, I’m supposed to go home, pretend that everything is normal, and just let people keep dying?” Your gaze meets Jungwon’s. “That’s what will happen, isn’t it? You said there were three more attacks just in the time I was unconscious. How many people have died now?”

Jungwon’s lips are tight. “Eleven.”

“Eleven people,” you echo. “If I go to Professor Kim and tell him—”

“You’re not going anywhere near that man,” Heeseung counters. “We’ll take care of it. It’s what we do.”

But his excuses are wearing thin in your mind, turning flimsy the more you consider them. “How? If he can identify you as vampires, then there’s no way you’ll ever get close enough to figure out how he might be connected to all of this.” You turn, addressing all seven of them. “I, on the other hand, have a draft written about the intrinsic evil of vampirism. I have a bite mark healing on my neck. If I go to him and say that I hate vampires too, that I was attacked by Heeseung, and his poison was the only thing that saved me, then I’ll earn his trust.”

Heeseung just scoffs, shaking his head. “Are the rest of you hearing this?”

Sunghoon opens his mouth hesitantly. “I mean… she kind of has a point.”

Heeseung glares. “Besides you.”

Sunoo frowns for a moment, parts his lips. 

Heeseung doesn’t let him get a word out. “Don’t even try it.” He turns to the others, something pleading in his gaze. “Jungwon, Jay, Niki, Jake, you have to see how insane this is. She’s a human.”

Your lips pull tight. “A human that’s standing right here.”

Jungwon maintains an even tone when he restates the simple fact, “If this professor truly can scent us, we don’t have any way of investigating him further. Not without using force.” He turns to look at you, gaze assessing. “Do you really think he’ll believe that you’re on his side?”

Do you? Maybe Heeseung is right. Maybe you’re betting on ludicrous odds, wasting the last of your luck on a game that was rigged from the beginning. But why inject you with a substance poisonous to vampires? Why publish all of those anti-vampire stories?

You match Jungwon’s eye. “I do.”

“Okay.” Jungwon nods, mulling it over in his mind. “Okay.”

Heeseung watches the exchange with heated eyes. “Absolutely not—”

“You’ve been overruled,” Jay interjects. 

“Six to one,” Niki agrees. Glancing at you, he amends, “Make that seven to one.”

Heeseung is still seeing red. “This isn’t a fucking group vote. We’re not deciding which coffee table to put in the living room. This is a life.” Turning to you, his voice softens, an edge of pleading in his tone. “This is your life.”

“Exactly.” You’re begging too, for a bit of understanding. “It’s my life. A week ago, it was completely consumed by winning an internship, getting my writing published. And now there are vampire attacks ravaging my city. The professor I wanted to impress so badly might just be one of them. Even if I walk away from here and vow to never go near New Haven again, my life won’t go back to what it was. I won’t be safe. So I’m going to do what I can to get back to the things that are important to me.” Eyes heating, you add, “So yes, I am a part of this now, whether you like it or not. And I have the marks on my neck to prove it.”

“Damn,” Sunghoon whistles lowly. “That was kind of beautiful.”

“You have a way with words,” Sunoo agrees. 

“Of course she does,” Jay nods. “Remember how frustrated Heeseung was a few months ago after she presented her analysis or whatever in class? He was so stressed he’d lose out on the internship bec—”

Heeseung’s glare could freeze hellfire. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“It’s late,” Jungwon interrupts, sensing the response that builds on Jay’s tongue. Pouring water over the flames before they can escalate into a full blown argument. Again, he addresses you. “You’re welcome to stay here tonight.” He glances around the room, and you imagine he’s trying to see things from your perspective. “Or any one of us would be happy to take you back home, if that’s what you prefer.”

There are aspects of your apartment that appeal to you. Sleeping in your own bed comes to mind. As does getting some distance from all of this. From him. You’ve taken in far too much information in the span of a few hours, and the throbbing against your temple has yet to ease. 

But your apartment is also empty. Quiet, isolated. With recent events in mind, you’re not sure it would feel like such a safe haven. If you’re quite ready to be truly alone. 

Still, you’re tentative. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You’re not,” Jake shakes his head. “It’s been a long few days. I’m sure you could use some rest.”

“Hasn’t she been asleep for, like, two days straight?” Sunghoon whispers to Jay. 

The only thing he gets in response is an elbow to the ribs. 

Jungwon ignores them. “You’re not overstaying anything. You can go home when you’re ready.”

“Ugh,” Niki grumbles. “Does that mean Heeseung’s gonna try and hang out in my room again? Because—”

He falls silent when at least three matching glares turn in his direction. 

Suddenly sheepish, you offer, “I can sleep somewhere else.” Glancing at Heeseung, you add, “I’m sure you want to sleep in your own bed again.” 

Heeseung just gives you a strange look. Niki bursts out laughing. 

“Damn,” Jay says. “Two hundred years really is a long time, I guess. Humans these days don’t remember anything about vampires.”

Cheeks heating with embarrassment, you realize your mistake. Of course. Not only are the boys in front of you blood-drinking immortal beings that have been alive since the early sixteenth century, but they also don’t sleep. 

Mollified, you feel the urge to defend yourself. “Why do you even have beds, then?”

This time, it’s Sunghoon that erupts in a fit of laughter. The other six avoid your gaze pointedly. 

You didn’t think it was possible, but once the realization sinks in, your cheeks heat even further. 

“Oh, cut the poor girl some slack,” Sunoo scolds. Turning to you, he’s kind when he explains, “We don’t sleep, but we do relax. An old force of habit, I suppose. It’s nice to just lay down sometimes.”

Jay can’t help himself. “Among other things, right Sunghoon?”

“Ignore them,” Jungwon advises. “Five hundred year old children.”

“Hey!” Sunghoon protests. “We’re not the ones that couldn’t handle a sex joke—”

Heeseung just sighs, a stray strand of hair falling over his eyes. For a moment, he looks like the boy you used to sit behind in class. Dreamy. Moody. Untouchable. So painfully out of reach that spite made you want to try anyway. 

He’s here now. Within your grasp. And when he looks at you, the quiet words he whispers are meant only for your ears. “I can walk you to my—er—your room, if you’re ready.”

You’re not ready. You don’t think you ever will be. But even a life spun on top of its head has a way of unfolding in predictable ways. Such is the nature of things, and so flows the progression of time. 

You don’t say anything, but you do nod. 

Trailing after him silently down the hallway you came from, you’re not sure if it feels more right to fall into step beside him or let him lead you. In the end, he makes the decision for you. Without breaking stride, Heeseung slows down until your shoulders are aligned, eyes facing forward. 

He doesn’t say anything as the two of you track a steady path to his bedroom. Mind leaden with the weight of the last five hundred years, you remain silent as well. Finally, you pass the common room again. 

He opens the door to his bedroom, steps to the side to let you walk in first. 

Unwittingly, your eyes land on the most conspicuous piece of furniture in the room. Your cheekbones are flaming again, and finding sleep in that bed suddenly feels like an arduous task. 

Heeseung follows your gaze. The golden glow of his skin remains the same, but his eyes flash with embarrassment. “You don't, uh…” He trails off. Even poets struggle with finding the right words at times. Finally, he settles on, “Not all of us live like Sunghoon.”

“He seems nice,” you say, desperate to draw your minds away from where they’ve wandered. 

“That’s one way of putting it.” But there’s affection in his voice when he says it. Brothers, you think. All of them. They seem like brothers. 

Heeseung’s eyes scan the expanse of his bedroom as if he’s looking at it for the first time. “There’s not much.” He seems almost apologetic for it. “But help yourself to whatever you like. The computer doesn’t have a password. And there’s books on the desk, too.”

“Thank you,” you tell him. And you mean it. He’s not someone you expected to be generous with their space, their belongings. Another aspect of him you had all wrong. 

“I’ll let you have some space then.” He pauses at the door. “Don’t be afraid to let me know if there's anything you need.”

“Okay,” you whisper. 

He hesitates a moment longer. You can see it in the curve of his lips, the arrangement of his features. There’s more he wants to say. Something else he wants to tell you. 

Instead, he closes the door behind him on his way out. Gently, so that it hardly makes a noise. 

His bed is comfortable when you lay down, even if your mind is still racing a million miles a minute. Distantly, you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat now. What he thinks of the way it picks up speed every time certain moments replay in your head. 

But despite yourself, despite him, despite everything, you manage to drift off after only a few long minutes. Tucked away in the corner of a strange home, the sleep that greets you is blissfully dreamless.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

note: WHEW. This is the most info-dumpy we'll be getting, so I hope this made for an enjoyable follow up to the first part regardless. The relationship between our two leads will really start to take off in the next part, as will the remaining aspects of the ~mystery~ now that (most of) the lore/backstory is covered. as always, I love to know what you're thinking!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Either college or old man Ford being with someone who, even after all the years theyve spent together, still looks at them like a lovesick puppy

like theyre blushing and getting flustered when he rests his hands on their waist or doing normal couple stuff, etc.

it's like their mind still doesn't register that they're together and instead, to cope, just proceeded to have the most down bad crush on their HUSBAND

(like that one reddit post LMAOO)

You knew that you were staring but you didn’t care, and you knew that Ford knew that you were staring and yet you didn’t care when the finest man in existence was before you and was also your husband?!

You still found it impossible to come to terms that this silver fox was yours forever and always, you still get flustered when he compliments you and your bed head, even more so when he cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses your forehead.

You really shouldn’t be this badly affected after being with Ford for so long, but you couldn’t help it! Your husband was hot and you’d be blind to not take time out of your day to stare at him, shamelessly admiring his aging face and silver fluffy hair that looked like storm clouds! It was unfair that Ford looked so effortlessly beautiful no matter what he did that it left you swooning and pining after him like a lovesick fool, you’d find yourself asking if he was single…

Only to remember that you were married to him and got to see him be so effortlessly handsome every damn day of your life and you end up smiling stupidly.

‘You alright my love?’ Ford asked and you internally squealed like a little girl.

‘I am just perfectly fine my dear, just admiring my beautiful and talented and smart husband is all.’ You admitted also sheepishly as though you were confessing to him all over again as you felt the best rush to your cheeks and tips of your ears.

Ford smiled softly as he walked over to you and held your face in his hands, feeling the warmth radiation off of your cheeks as he caressed them; After all this time together Ford was aware of the fact he still held some power over you and he couldn’t help but feel flattered at how little had changed from then to now.

It was charming and sweet and kind of you to still look at him through the lens you did since your time at college together, he didn’t feel like he deserved it, but he knew that feeling would fade the moment he looked into your eyes and saw the abundance of love you held for him was still thriving and very much alive.

‘That is very sweet of you my dear,’ Ford said softly as he kissed your forehead, ‘you truly enlighten me with your love and affection that I can not thank you enough for marrying this old fool.’ He chuckled as he saw your eyes widened as though you still weren’t accustomed to the reality that you two were indeed married and have been for the past two months. Ford often wondered what what off in that head of yours but from the look within your eyes, he already knew his answer and couldn’t help but find it endearing.

‘I’d be the fool if I didn’t marry you Ford, even a bigger fool if I didn’t say anything back in college. I think I’d fight myself if i didn’t.’ You admitted as you thought of an alternate universe where you didn’t spill your guts to Ford back in college, you honestly didn’t want to think of where your life would’ve been like had you not married Ford as you were certain it was one full of regret and longing for what could’ve been. So you thanked god every night as you cuddled up to him in your shared bed that you got to live in a reality where you got Ford to be yous in every aspect possible.

Ford chuckled. ‘I highly doubt there is one where we don’t end up together my darling, and trust me I’ve been through the entire multiverse for the past thirty years.’ His eyes then soften as he rests his forehead against yours, causing your whole body to heat up at the action as you found yourself melting into him and his warmth. ‘I’m just happy that you were willing to wait so long for me. So, so happy.’ He adds in a whisper.

You nudged his noses with yours, flighting off the butterflies that were now within your stomach and running rampant at his words alone. ‘I would’ve waited far longer if needed just to see you home safe and sound.’ You told him as you kissed his nose and cheeks softly, happy to be in his arms and breath him in, content in knowing that he was here and that he was real unlike the dreams you had in the past. ‘So don’t thank me for doing something I would’ve done ten times over. You deserve as such Ford.’ You add as you pecked him lightly on the lips reassuringly.

‘Still I must thank my adorning wife/husband/spouse for being by my side when they had every right to walk away.’ Ford said as he tugged you closer to his chest, just innocently holding you in his arms lovingly but yet you couldn’t help but feel your heart hammer in your chest at being so close with him as you burrowed your face into his heck.

‘Your wife/husband/spouse is just happy to see you home where you’d belong with your family.’ You murmured again his red turtleneck, holding his waist tightly as you indulged in his comforting scent, something you loved about him that rivalled your love for his six fingers.

‘And I’m happy that I get the opportunity to call you my wife/husband/spouse.’ Ford admits as he kisses the top of your head before nuzzling his face into your neck, pressing a tender kiss there which made your breath hitch in your throat. ‘I love you my darling, so, so much.’ He whispers as though it was something that would only be shared between the two of you, like no one else is allowed to hear such talk between lovers and soulmates.

Your love for Ford was insurmountable, no words could properly describe just how much you love this man that you were more then willing to rip heaven and hell for, to rip through time and space just to see him home safe, anything if it meant seeing a man as sweet and loving as him smile that adorable smile of his in your direction.

You needed Ford like you needed air to breathe, water to drink and food to eat. Ford was a necessity for your survival and you weren’t going to let him go ever again, for you didn’t know how you’d be able to cope without him again.

Sure you might still have an embarrassingly massive crush on your husband, and become flustered every time he held your hand, kissed your forehead or even looked at you lovingly but you weren’t ashamed of it as it just meant that you were that your love rang true even after so long. If anything it meant that your love was stronger then most that fizzle out after a certain period of time, and yet you couldn’t help but smile stupidly and look away whether Ford complimented you or engulfed your hand with his own.

Ford was your best friend, husband and your crush all at the same time and you were more then happy to have finally gotten your happy ending with him, all the while staying perpetually in love with him regardless of the passage of time because Ford was so much more then your husband but he was massive part of yourself that you couldn’t live without nor intend to.

‘I love you so much my beloved Ford.’ You said as you rested your eyes and listened in on his strong heartbeat that told you he was alive as he held you tighter. ‘So very, very much.’

‘Then I hope you keep loving me for a long time.’ Ford confessed as he kissed your neck some more.

‘And I’ll promise to love you for an even longer amount of time after that.’ You admit as you moved your neck so that he’d have more access as you clutched onto him, smiling dopey as you felt as though you were on cloud nine within your husbands arms, blissed out of your mind as it ran rampant with ideas for the rest of your shared lives together.

[cheonstapes]

HAPPY 1K THOUGH LET GO AHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU

But request time gurl!😘😌✊, so what about a nerd!Miguel\dom x nerdygirl!reader LIKE IMAGINE THE FLUFF AND THE SMUT THERE BOTH BE A BLUSH MESS but I feel like Miguel would take the lead and show he dom when doing it like dont blame me! 😭✊ like he still nerdy Miguel we all know the sweet boy but let make the nerd that friend s with the popular group and have a girlfriend who is nerdy!reader and which is a very shy person then Miguel is.

Pls my life depends on this request gurl and I hope your having a great day though BYE STILL SO HAPPY FOR YOU EACHING 1k following

-🐈

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘OUR FIRST TIME’ (ﾟωﾟ)

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.miguel o’hara x reader.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

SMUT

you and your nerdy boyfie, miguel, have your first time together 🩷

cw; loss of virginity, creampie!!!!!, iloveyous, it’s actually really cute, womb fucking ig, softdom!nerd!miguel, NAWT PROODREAD!!!

2k+ words

@cheonstapes: thank you sm lovelie🩷🩷 apologies it took so long but this was so fun to write and i love your mind. i hope you enjoy beautiful! also tumblr keeps fucking up my italics and bolds so im gonna add them on later!

you and miguel had to have been the most stereotypical couple at the university.

who would’ve guessed the two biggest nerds on campus would’ve gotten together — especially when it was because of your shared interest in genetics. but to miguel’s friends, it was so sweet — a little cringe, but sweet. seeing that it had already been a year since you two started dating, the two of you not being able to hold a conversation without stuttering and blushed profusely was quite concerning.

every time you looked him in the eyes, your heart would suddenly beat a million times faster — face flushing, hands trembling as you try to come off as calm as possible. it was so embarrassing, you could cry just thinking about it. he had such pretty eyes hidden behind those thin frames, didn’t make it better that he would stare into your soul every time you talked.

but miguel wasn’t any better — in fact, he was worse. his whole friendship group being the talk of the college helped miguel to open up more, the persistent attention meaning he had to adapt to being surrounded by people. the incessant staring? that’s him trying to make himself less nervous by making you more nervous so you would stop looking at him so he could admire you without you realising — long, i know. but he loved how sweet you were, the way you were so deeply in love with him — just like he was with you.

walking out of your biology lecture, he speeds up walking to catch you on the othwr side of the room — gently slipping his hands into yours. you tense, looking up at his handsome face before relaxing — “ah, m-miggy!” he smiles so softly, wrapping his beefy arm around your waist. “hey, pretty — you finished for today?” his fingers squeeze the fat of your hips, pulling you into his chest as he leans against a nearby wall.

he always knew how to make you so fucking nervous, staring down at you like you were the centre of his world — which you in fact were. “yeah! i was just gonna go back to my dorm and study. would…well, it’s ok if you’re busy — but do you, maybe, wanna…” god, why is it so hard to ask your boyfriend to hangout! he knew what you wanted to ask, he just wanted to hear you say it. “do i wanna what, hm? i mean — i don’t have any plans later either, i was thinking of going to pete-“

“no!” a brief flicker of slight panic takes over your face, you refuse to be that much of a mess to the point where you can even ask your own boyfriend out. “i mean, would you like to come my dorm tonight? t-to study, obviously.” amazing job, girlfriend, amazing job. once again, he wore that stupidly handsome smirk — fingers kneading the soft flesh of your waist. “study? of course, babe — why didn’t you just ask?” prick.

miguel always said he found it easier to study when you were right next to him — as in, resting in between his legs as your head lay on his chest. “did you get the answer to number 8? i think i missed that lesson…” you tilt your head, looking up at him. you looked so cute with your little glasses as you studied, a small pout on your lips as you tap on his leg for him to help you out.

he was thinking a lot of things right now, and none of them were the answer for number 8. before he met you, miguel was always deep in his studies — head buried in a textbook every night. but now you’re his, he can’t think about anything else. the outline of your chest against your tight shirt, pert nipples straining against the fabric since you insist you feel better without a bra — he wasn’t a perv, but damn if you were making him feel like one.

“u-uh…i think — uhhhh…” he was really fucked. your cute little giggle and the way you shimmied around to sit on your knees, hands clutching his cheeks. “migs, you’re burning up! you ok?” he was no ok, not by a long shot. despite having so much attention on him simply because of the people he’s friends with, miguel was still very much a virgin. yeah, he’s jerked off before — but that was only after he met you. your entrance into his life awakened a part of his brain that he thought was forever stored away — and he did not know how to deal with it.

sex was something the two of you were yet to talk about, 2 years into the relationship and it was like you were kids about to have their first kiss. there were lingering touches here and there, but oh how badly he wants to feel your sweet pussy around him. “can… i touch you?” he could barely register the words that came out of his mouth before he takes in the way your face changes completely. the heat radiating from your cheeks could melt the arctic, that was the one thing you weren’t expecting to hear. at all.

of course, you were a virgin too — all in all saving yourself for miguel for when the time comes. you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. he looked so depraved already, panting softly — hair tousled from when he was laying down, you want him so, so bad. “u-uh, yeah — go ahead!” you didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but miguel didn’t care — a hand immediately trailing up your plush thighs, toying with the edge of your panties under your skirt. “you’re…you’re so pretty.” he could feel his hands shaking, heart pounding in his chest — the warmth of your skin and the small moans leaving your lips were fucking with his head.

the tender skin was so sensitive, causing your thighs to tremble under his touch. he didn’t expect you to be so sensitive. fuck, did he want to tease you for it, but he couldn’t talk — not when he was already about to bust when you haven’t even touched him yet. “mmm — m-miggy.. please..touch me.” you could tell he wanted to, he just didn’t know where to start. his fingers ran up your inner thigh, teasingly running over the small wet patch on your cute panties.

he felt like a newborn learning how to walk again, the rugged rhythm in which he was working your little clit showed how inexperienced he is — but you didn’t care, especially not when you yourself couldn’t even notice his lack of technique. he fully pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side — there was a sharp in take of breath from him as he stared at your bare cunt, his bulge pressing harder aganst the mattress.

“g-god, baby, can… can i taste you, please?” miguel couldn’t believe how desperate he sounded, he had dreamed about eating your pretty, little pussy out for ever now, the thought of you denying him that now would break him. “y-yeah, fuck. please, miggy.” his tongue immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and sucking it into his mouth as his fingers probed your tight hole.

he knew you would need some extra prep to be prepared for taking him, so he made sure to make you feel as good as possible — he wasn’t about to let your first time be your worst. the fat of your thighs were tight around his head, holding him in place as he steadily fucked you with his tongue. for someone who was a virgin only 20 minutes ago, he sure knew how to work that tongue — your breathy moans breaking through the sloppy squelching noises of your wetness.

“migs…i — mmph!” the sensation was unknown but not unwelcome. a firm pressure in your tummy that felt like a dam about to burst all over your boyfriend’s face. miguel’s watched enough porn to know what that sound meant, reluctantly sitting up from his position between your legs to peer down at you — drooling cock bobbing between his thighs. he licked your arousal from his lips, shakily grabbing onto your legs to push them over his shoulders.

“baby, ‘m not letting you cum until you’ve had my cock in you — ‘s not how it works.” he felt like he was going insane, the sight of your pussy, so tantalisingly close to his length — the chubby tip poking against your entrance. you could only nod, you couldn’t argue with that — not when you’ve been waiting for this moment. upon getting your approval, he wrapped a beefy hand around his cock — smearing his pre-cum along your puffy folds.

he was so slow when he pushed into you, the sheer girth of him stretching your poor pussy thin. “fuckin’ hell, baby— s-so, so tight.” his strong hips pounded against your pelvis, your skin tinging a faint shade of red. your body was jostled against the headboard with every thrust, a thick rim of cream forming at his base. miguel was lost in the feeling of your cunt, drooling mindlessly against your neck as he rammed deep inside of you.

“m-miguel…!” the harder he fucked into you, the shakier your voice was — whiny moans and heavy grunts reverberated through your small dorm room. he couldn’t believe how good fucking you felt, your velvety walls gripping onto him like a life line. miguel was completely delirious, only letting incoherent mumbles — a bruising grip on your waist as he brings you back against his cock.

“ohhh, f-fuck…! iloveyou, so — shit, so much!” your pussy was so good, he didn’t even realised it slipped out — i love you. he really did, and in this moment — there was nothing else but the two of you, connecting so beautifully as you give yourselves to each other fully. he messily sucks on the skin just below your ear, simply grinding into your womb as his hand trails down your back — squeezing the flesh of your ass to pull you flush against him.

“i…i love you too, migs.”

you..you love him too? fuck. his hips stilled, gooey cum filling your cunt raw as he pours all of his love into you. miguel’s back heaved, his arms giving out under him as he falls on top of you — wrapping an arm around your waist as he carefully rubs your clit. his heart was soaring, smiling down at you as he fucked himself into overstimulation — determined to see you cum all over his cock.

“my pretty girl, you’re all mine — wanna see you cum. you gonna cum for me, yeah?” god, his voice was husky and deep — tickling your ear and sending tingles down your spine. your legs trembled, cunt spasming as it gushed out that clear liquid. it coated the sheets below you, splashing against his stomach — a low, gravelly moan leaving miguel as he filled you with his cum once again.

the two of you laid in silence for a beat, panting softly as he rested on your chest. one of your hands moved up to cup his face, picking up his glasses from your bedside stand — placing them on his face, albeit with wonkily but it matched that dopey grin on his face. “i swear to god, i’ve turned you into an animal, migs! you sure that was your first time?” giggling, you kissed his lips softly — nimble fingers brushing through his sweaty hair.

“guess i got a bit carried away, huh?” he sighed, softly rubbing your tummy. “‘s not my fault i’ve got the most beautiful, sexiest, most loving, caring, perfect, goddess of a girlfriend anyone could wish for.”

miguel was embarrassingly in love with you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-smack myass like a drum