#like i'll pause and be like ?? did i just hear a sound bite from the game bc that sounded like atsushi--

[son1c]

part 2 of my sonic x dungeon meshi crossover is finally here!! read part 1 if you haven't already and please enjoy 🐉

Something was wrong. Even with his eyes closed, Sonic knew that. It felt like something was poking around inside of his head, its ghastly claws sinking into his delicate brain-meat, and it hurt! In fact, the relentless jabbing was more than just painful; it unnerved him, its apparent wrongness causing his stomach to twist and turn as if to say, Get out!

So, Sonic scrunched up his nose and did something. 

What did he do? How did he do it? These questions weren’t important to Sonic. All that mattered to him was that it worked. As soon as he gathered his strength, the intruder retreated. It took Sonic’s soon-to-be migraine headache along with it, leaving Sonic to exhale in relief. 

Good riddance, he thought.

Then, Sonic opened his eyes.

Surrounding him were the rolling fields of Green Hill. The grass swayed in a gentle breeze and the sky was a perfect blue. Sonic looked around, but there didn’t seem to be any Flickies nearby, because he couldn’t hear their telltale song. In fact, other than the wind, it was completely silent, almost like the whole world had just two occupants: him and the creature laying across his legs.

"Well, then," the creature--a winged lion--mused, its voice pleasant. "How did you do that, I wonder?"

Sonic blinked. He realized he couldn't feel his legs and tried to move out from under the lion, but couldn't. Frustrated, he asked, "Mind gettin' off me?"

The lion sighed. "I'm afraid I can't." Sonic opened his mouth to protest, but the lion continued, "A powerful spell has bound us together. But enough about that. I'm much more curious about you."

"Me?"

"Oh, yes. You."

Sonic didn't like the look in the lion's eyes. They sparkled, not unkindly, but not in a way he found particularly trustworthy, either. "First," Sonic said slowly, "you tell me something."

The lion smiled. "Of course," it replied. "Anything."

"What were you doin' in my head?"

The lion's eyes grew wide. "Ah, so the cat’s out of the bag, is it?" When Sonic frowned, the lion went on to say, "I was looking for something. I'm surprised you were able to tell--usually, no one notices." Tilting its head, the lion asked, bemused, "But you're not of the usual sort, are you?"

Sonic's eyes narrowed. Looking for something? He didn't like the sound of that! "Not cool, dude," he said, ignoring the lion's comment about him being weird. "You have a mouth, right? If there's something you wanna know, use it and ask!"

"Fair enough," the lion conceded. Then, it set its large head down on Sonic's chest. "For what it's worth, your mind shut me out quickly. A passing glance is all I managed to capture before you overwhelmed me." The lion paused. "Yes, you're truly unusual."

Sonic bristled. He was liking this guy less and less by the minute. "What, you thought I'd roll over and let you take whatever you wanted? Not a chance!" He tried to shove the lion's head off him and sit up, but couldn't. The lion's skull was like a cinder block that'd been bolted to his rib cage and it refused to budge.

Irritated (and beginning to feel a little claustrophobic), Sonic spat, "Just who are you?"

The lion's smile returned. "Me?" Its yellow eyes flashed. "Hmm. Right now, I suppose I'm you."

The grass stilled as the breeze died. But Sonic wasn't afraid.

"So much for a lion!" Sonic sneered. "You're more like a copycat. All roar, no bite, I'll bet!"

"An imitation has no appeal to me," the lion replied smoothly. "What I'm really after is happiness. Now, it's my turn. So, please, tell me: what do you desire?"

Sonic gritted his teeth. The wall he'd unknowingly constructed to keep the lion out of his mind grew stronger with his determination. Then, with both hands, he grabbed the lion's head and lifted it off of his chest. Finally, he was able to sit up, although his legs still felt tingly.

"Such willpower!" the lion said, delighted.

Sonic furrowed his brow. After a moment, he let go of the lion's head and muttered, "What's with you? First you wanna know about my desires, then you're happy when I fight back?" He shook his head in disbelief. "I don't get you at all."

Chuckling, the lion replied, "The chase sweetens the prize."

Sonic snorted. "If all you want is to make me happy, that's easy. Just get off me!"

Instead, the lion curled up on Sonic's legs and closed its eyes. "I like you," it said, almost absentmindedly. "You're interesting. Indeed, anyone else would've folded to my vast consciousness. But there you are, still here."

Sonic didn't really understand what the lion was saying, but it made him angry anyway. "I'll never fold to you!"

A lazy grin played on the lion's lips. "Then we'll have to share. After all, you won't be going anywhere without my legs." Cracking an eye open, the lion added, "Although, you may find your heart has shifted once you wake. The Lord of the Dungeon's blood flows through it now..."

Sonic squeezed his eyes shut in exasperation. This whole conversation was so confusing!

Suddenly, Green Hill began to fade. Literally--the world around them was melting away into nothing. Before it disappeared completely, the lion said, "Good luck, Sonic."

//

Thistle inspected the gauntlet Sonic had surrendered to him with an impatient sort of fervor. He looked at each finger, the thumb, and the palm, but still didn’t find what he was looking for. So much of his focus was devoted to searching for the inscription he knew to be there–somewhere–that he didn’t notice the lion chimera peering over his shoulder until their faces were practically touching. 

Thistle jumped. “Stay back!” he snapped, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck.

Sonic blinked, surprised by the mage’s outburst. But then he huffed and did as he was told.

"You hurt his feelings," Merlina told Thistle.

"It doesn't have feelings," Thistle replied automatically. Once he was sure Sonic wasn’t going to sneak up on him again, he began prying a screw loose from the gauntlet with his fingernails. Maybe the inscription was hidden underneath the plating?

Merlina put her hands on her hips. "Oh, certainly not the demon. But what of the hedgehog?"

Thistle didn't look up. "What of him?"

Merlina bit her lip. She didn't like how dismissive Thistle was, but it would be suspicious for her to care about Sonic like a friend, when they were supposed to be strangers. Still, when she looked over at the lion chimera, she couldn't help the ache in her chest, because it was her summoning spell that had brought him here in the first place. Though, her plan had gone awry.

In the end, Merlina simply turned away from Sonic and said to Thistle, "Nothing. Have you found the inscription yet?"

Thistle ignored her. But if he’d responded, it probably would've been something along the lines of, No. Or, No, obviously. Or maybe even, No, and you're not helping, so be quiet!

In response to his silence, Merlina turned up her nose. If he was going to be rude, then so be it, but as a member of the King's Court, she was above such petulant behavior! For that reason, Merlina chose to return his silence in kind. 

Truly, the irony was palpable… 

If Sonic had been listening to their conversation, he would’ve rolled his eyes. But he wasn’t listening, because he was more focused on his paws–all four of them. 

Leaning over, Sonic stared down at his two front paws with wide eyes. A strange feeling filled his chest as he watched the moonlight shine through his gray fur. He knew without touching it that his fur was rough, like a nice winter coat, and that his dark claws could tear through even the toughest armor.

He tapped one of his toes. The sensation of his claw scraping against the dirt confirmed that what he was seeing was real, but it didn’t make the strange feeling go away. Like a boulder, or maybe a whole mountain’s worth of cascading rocks, it weighed heavily on Sonic’s chest. And it only grew stronger as he continued to look down at the feet that didn’t feel like his own.

Finally, Sonic looked away from his paws. He couldn't bear to see them anymore, since they were making his head hurt. Was he angry? Was he happy? The strange, seemingly contradictory feelings pounded against his skull like a jackhammer, threatening to split his head in two.

That’s not me, he thought. That can’t be me.

In desperation, Sonic looked this way and that, trying to find something--anything--to ease the pain. But everything he saw only made it worse. The feathers covering his chest and arms, the dragon with a human head, the she-mage Merlina. They all served to further his confusion until eventually, he turned his attention toward the only thing he had left to turn to: Thistle.

Instantly, a wave of calm rushed in. It washed away all other feelings and rid the lion chimera of his headache. He blinked slowly. His strange body didn’t bother him so much now. No, it didn’t bother him at all. His quills relaxed and his feathers laid flat, all because of that wicked glass vial, containing none other than a drop of the mad mage’s blood.

The winged lion had been right about Sonic’s heart. 

Now, Sonic cared only for the Lord of the Dungeon.

“There you are,” Thistle hissed. He’d finally pried the plating off Sonic’s gauntlet. Between his thumb and forefinger, he held up a single iron strip to examine under the light of the moon. The glyphs glinted with an unmistakable power, their carving as masterful as he’d expected, each stroke etched perfectly into the metal. “I knew the Great Wizard Merlin’s work hadn’t been lost. With this, I’ll finally be able to…”

“There are still more fragments to be found,” Merlina interrupted, looking uncomfortable. “Or have you forgotten?”

Scowling, Thistle pocketed the iron strip before discarding the rest of Sonic’s gauntlet. It fell to the grass with a muted thunk.

Sonic cocked his head and gave the gauntlet a brief glance, but quickly lost interest. He felt nothing at the sight of its mangled corpse and forgot about it as soon as he looked away. Yawning, the lion chimera closed his eyes and began to think about blueberries…

It was then that the dragon chimera approached. Her heavy footsteps caused the earth itself to tremble as if in warning while her long tail swished behind her, slow and steady. She peered down at Sonic, her bright yellow eyes standing out against the shadows of her face, her expression unreadable.

Sonic cracked one eye open to look at her. Her size failed to intimidate him, and her pinprick pupils drew another yawn from Sonic. If she thought he'd be impressed by her Studio Trigger shading, she had another thing coming! But right as Sonic was about to go back to daydreaming, he noticed the red splatter on her huge dragon hand, and his nose twitched.

Heedless to the danger, Sonic got close enough to her hand to touch the splatter. It was dry and cracking but still smelled familiar, although something about it wasn’t quite right, like a latte with the wrong kind of milk, or a chili dog without the chili.

Just when Sonic was about to take a step back, he found himself being picked up by the human hands of the dragon chimera. At first, he squirmed, his wings flapping uselessly in an attempt to get away. But then he caught sight of the dragon chimera’s face and stopped.

She no longer looked like she belonged in a suspect lineup for the critically acclaimed 2023 game, The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog. Instead, her features had softened to a more natural state, and Sonic couldn’t help but think that she looked too kind to be a dragon. 

“You’re,” Falin started to say, her voice strained, “just a… child…?”

Sonic wanted to fire back with a witty retort, but when he opened his mouth, he found it hard to say anything. It was like there was a weight pushing against his throat that hadn’t been there before, making even simple sounds difficult. Clearing his throat didn’t solve the problem, which irritated him, but he wasn’t a quitter, so he forced the words out anyway.

“Nnnothin’... ‘just’... about it!”

Then, with his back paws, Sonic pushed off against the dragon chimera’s feathery abdomen and flipped out of her grasp. He landed on the ground with Olympic grace, rubbing his nose with his thumb as he grinned up at her. But his throat was shredded from just those four words, so he let his actions speak for themselves. 

Falin, in all her mid-20s wisdom, knew that Sonic was trying to look cool. So, she clapped her hands together and smiled at him, because who was she to deny him of that? She’d already killed him once. Instead of sulking about what had been, unbeknownst to her at the time, a cold-blooded child murder, she found it much more productive to be supportive.

Now that Sonic smelled like the Lord of the Dungeon, there was no need for Falin to commit double child homicide, anyway.

Hurray!

“Dragon,” Thistle said, commanding both her and Sonic’s attention. “The next artifact awaits. Quickly, now. We mustn’t keep Delgal waiting.”

As the dragon chimera shuffled over to Thistle, Sonic’s keen eyes noticed something. Inside Thistle’s chest, another blueberry had formed, and it sat, radiating warmth right next to the mad mage’s heart. Sonic remembered the irresistible taste of the first blueberry he’d eaten and before he knew it, he was moving, running past the dragon chimera and straight at Thistle.

In turn, Thistle held up one of his hands and demanded, “Stop!”

Sonic skidded to a halt. He barely managed to avoid plowing into Thistle, his nose mere inches away from the mad mage’s outstretched palm. Impatiently, Sonic flicked his tail. The delicious blueberry was so close now. It was making his mouth water.

“You’re more useful to me in this form than as a book,” Thistle said. “But if you start acting as you did before, it won’t matter. I’ll return you to the pages. Understand?”

Sonic didn’t understand. He had no idea what Thistle was talking about. Still, he really wanted that blueberry. So, he flashed Thistle a thumbs up and gave the mad mage a toothy grin. 

At this, Thistle wrinkled his nose. “Perhaps your other head was best,” he muttered. Then, he straightened his face and put his hands on his hips. “I want to gather all the artifacts before two week’s time. The next one isn’t far, but we shall need to…”

To be honest, Sonic stopped listening after Thistle said “I want.” Because when those two words were uttered, the blueberry in the mad mage’s chest grew a little bigger, and with it, the flavor grew a little stronger. In that moment, Sonic figured out how he’d be able to eat that blueberry, as well as every other blueberry that sprouted from Thistle’s heart. 

He’d make sure Thistle got everything he wanted. 

And in exchange, Sonic would eat the blueberries. 

//

Tails wasn’t worried about Sonic. He knew Sonic. Sonic was the coolest guy he’d ever met and stronger than most people could ever dream of. So, when Sonic didn't show up after Tails and the knights finished off the last of the monsters, Tails figured he must still be fighting the dragon.

It was a big dragon, Tails reasoned. In fact, it was huge! And things only got that big if they had several hundred health points, right? By that logic, it made perfect sense that Sonic wasn’t back yet; it could take him all night to fell an enemy as ginormous as the red dragon! 

In the meantime, Tails focused on helping people who’d been hurt from the monster invasion. He pulled up his socks, spun his twin tails, and got to work surveying the area. He’d make sure no one was left alone in the rubble… which there was a lot of.

Tails shook his head. Restoration plans could wait. 

Sonic was counting on him to help these people right now!

It was a little hard to see through the haze of destroyed architecture, but not even the darkness of night could keep Tails from hearing the cries of two kids trapped under a broken food cart. With Percival’s help, Tails was able to pull the kids out from the wreckage and get them standing again. Then, he sent them off toward the castle where the rest of the townsfolk had gathered.

Lancelot wasn’t as content as Tails to simply let Sonic be, however. As Tails and the other knights helped the injured, Lancelot kept looking off toward the horizon until finally he said, “I’m going after him.”

Gawain scowled under his helmet. “You’re needed here, Sir Lancelot. Stay and help the people whose lives you’ve sworn to protect.”

Lancelot bristled. “Their safety is assured,” he said, his voice hard. “Unless I’m wrong to entrust them to your care?”

Gawain rose to his full height, but before he could draw his weapon, Percival moved in between him and Lancelot. “Now’s no time for a quarrel,” she interjected. “There’s much to do.” She spoke confidently, but the echo of her voice through the empty, damaged streets gave her words a more solemn gravitas. “With Prince Tails, that makes four of us. If we each tend to something, we can assure the continued safety of our kingdom and its people. As is our sworn duty.”

Gawain grumbled, knowing she was right.

Tails, meanwhile, blushed at the title Percival had unceremoniously bestowed upon him. If Sonic was uncomfortable being called a king, then Tails was embarrassed to be called a prince! 

“I’m going,” Lancelot said, looking directly at Gawain. “When I return, it will be with the king.”

“Wait,” Tails suddenly said, having regained his composure. “Sha–... um… Sir Lancelot, don’t go. I know you’re worried, but Sonic’ll be fine. He’s beat bigger bad guys than this before! Really.”

Lancelot’s intense stare caused Tails to fidget with his tails. But he had faith in his big bro, so he didn’t back down. “It’s just… Don’t you think we could use your help around here? Those monsters broke a lot of stuff, including the wall! What if more monsters get in? I really think we should fix it first. Before anyone goes anywhere, I mean.”

“The fox is right,” Gawain said. 

Lancelot turned away from Tails and the other two knights. It was impossible to see his face under the visor, but if Tails had to guess based on the hard line of his mouth, he probably didn’t look very happy right now.

“I want to see King Sonic’s return too,” Percival told Lancelot. “And we shall. After securing his people.”

The tension in the square was so thick, it could be sliced with a sword. But as the dust settled, so too did Lancelot’s frustration, and before long, he turned back toward the three of them. Curtly, he said, “One hour. That’s all I can spare.”

True to his word, Lancelot stayed to help Gawain, Percival, and Tails rescue the remaining townsfolk from precarious situations. (One of them had even gotten stuck inside a chimney somehow! After being freed, the man explained that he’d been trying to hide from the monsters, but didn’t realize how narrow a hiding spot he’d chosen until it was too late.) 

By the time half an hour had passed, every last person had been sent to the castle. That left just one thing: fixing the town’s outer wall.

The part of the wall where the red dragon had broken through was nothing more than piles of broken stone. The wall had crumbled completely, leaving a distinctly dragon-shaped hole behind, and creating an unwelcome window out into the dark forest on the other side.

If Tails had more time, he could’ve invented a contraption to fix the wall for them. Maybe some sort of brick flinger? Or a cement spitter? Unfortunately, he was in the Middle Ages, and he had no idea where to find the materials he’d need to build those things. So, that meant Plan B…

“Stand aside,” Lancelot suddenly said, startling Tails out of his reverie. 

Tails looked up at Lancelot, but the knight didn’t seem to be angry. In fact, he seemed determined, and so Tails did as he was asked. Though, his ears were perked in curiosity. The fox didn’t know much about Shadow, so he was interested to see what his doppelganger could do.

As it turned out, “what Lancelot could do” was fix the wall. Not only that, but he fixed the wall without lifting a single cinder block! He just drew a small, detailed circle into the dirt at the foot of the wall, and then burned it into the ground with the bottom of one of his jet shoes. Once the circle was aflame, it sent the stones in motion, seeming to reverse time until they all tumbled back into place, just like they’d been before the dragon had knocked them down.

Gawain rolled his eyes. “Show off,” he grumbled.

“Wow!” Tails said, his eyes sparkling. “That was amazing! How’d you do that?”

Lancelot didn’t look at Tails when he replied tersely, “I learned it from my mother.”

Tails raised an eyebrow, but before he could comment, Percival set a hand on Lancelot’s shoulder. “Thank you for your help, Sir Lancelot,” she said. “Now, I believe you have somewhere else to be. Sir Gawain and I will await your return with King Sonic.”

Gawain looked like he wanted to protest, but thought better of it when Percival shot him a glare so withering, its heat could be felt even through her visor. 

Hmph. Well, he didn’t want to be around Lancelot for any longer than he had to be, anyway.

So, Gawain and Percival left for the castle. Lancelot’s shoes began to spark as they powered up, signaling his impending departure, his body already leaning the same direction he’d seen Sonic and the red dragon disappear into.

“I’m coming too,” Tails said.

Lancelot didn’t want to waste more time arguing. Would he have preferred to go alone? Yes, of course. But he’d kept his king waiting long enough, and wasn’t willing to make him wait any longer, so instead of fighting, he gave Tails a sharp nod.

The dragon’s tracks were large and noticeable, even in the relative darkness of night. Tails and Lancelot followed them out into the forest, taking note of the crushed bramble and torn bark along the way, until they reached the wicked spike field, where they suddenly stopped. 

Tails looked around. The spikes were as plentiful as they were jagged, and he could see a blue quill lodged into one of them. That by itself wasn’t a bad sign–Sonic lost quills during fights all the time–but it was the silence that began to unnerve Tails.

Sonic was loud. If he was around, Tails and Lancelot would’ve already caught one of his quips on the wind. But they hadn’t. Instead, the only sounds in the forest were the quiet rustling of the leaves and an ominous dripping from one of the spikes.

Tails looked at that spike. He saw it, broken in half, the sharp tip hanging horizontally over the ground. There were claw marks at the base from the dragon, so it was clear she had broken it. And there was another blue quill stuck to the side of it, too. But that wasn’t all.

The dripping was forming a puddle on the ground. A very large puddle that made Tails sick to his stomach. It smelled like iron. It was red like Sonic’s shoes. And it was dripping from the tip of the spike.

Lancelot stood beside Tails. He looked at the puddle of blood too.

Tails’ mind was racing. There was no way that blood could belong to Sonic. It must be the dragon’s blood. But if it was the dragon’s blood, then where was the dragon? And, more importantly, where was Sonic?

The puddle of blood stared back at Tails in response to his question.

The silence pressed in on Tails like an omen. It was suffocating, but he couldn’t let himself choke on it. Sure, this looked bad. Really bad. But Sonic had been through worse and made it out. He must’ve made it out of this too. All they needed to do was keep looking, and they’d find him.

Because Sonic wouldn’t die. He wouldn’t leave Tails alone. 

He just wouldn’t do those things.

“Sir Lancelot,” Tails said, his voice small, “let’s–”

Lancelot stopped Tails with a harsh, Shh!

Tails strained his ears. He heard branches cracking as they shifted in the wind. He heard distant voles chattering nervously. And then, far away, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps–heavy enough to belong to the red dragon.

No words were said. Tails and Lancelot simply took off, careful to avoid the pool of blood, in the direction of the sound. Eventually, it led them to the lake where this story began. But Sonic and the dragon weren’t there. As if by magic, everyone who’d been at the lakeside had disappeared. However, they’d left behind three crucial clues: Sonic’s gauntlet, a pair of tattered, bloody white gloves, and a single strand of long red hair.

Tails was horrified at the state of the gloves, but Lancelot was more focused on the hair, because he knew who it belonged to. 

“She was here,” he said, his voice low and filled with barely contained rage. “Merlina the Wizard.”

[lvl21]

one thing i love about naoba's ( new nickname fans gave nao🥹) portrayal of aoba is that he legit sounds like aoba from the game at times

[literaila]

one in the morning

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary:

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

warnings: slight angst, awkward child rearing, a bit of arguing, and pining (of course), slightly ooc gojo

a/n: because i am a sucker for little megumi

*

year zero. year one.

it's not that you're not expecting the call. except that you're not. 

like not even a little bit. an asteroid coming down and destroying only you and your apartment building is slightly more likely than satoru gojo calling you in the middle of the night, like he hasn't done in the last six months. 

the last year, really.

a year ago you would've known who it was immediately and probably would've cursed satoru out for calling you at three in the morning to see if you wanted to go get ice cream with him (and then you would've gotten up and put on your shoes to find him outside of your room, already grinning). 

but now you have to check the caller id. 

you blink around in the dark--struggling through the dregs of dream you're still waking through--and sigh. 

unfortunately, you've never had quite enough willpower to ignore this phone call. shoko has called you an idiot many times--too many times, actually--telling you that satoru's attention-seeking habits are not your responsibility. not that she's had to say that in a while, though... and it's not like you're going to sneak out in the middle of the night with him anymore--you can't sneak out. you have your own house. there’s no yaga to look down on you disapprovingly here. 

and he hasn't called you in six months. you haven't even heard about him beyond some irritated remarks from yaga, and shoko's knowing glances when you try to nonchalantly bring him up.

and still. 

it takes you a moment to pick up the phone, your thumb hitting the answer button before your mind can stop you. 

"satoru?" you whisper, listening to the breathing on the other end. 

there's some muffled moving around, and then a breath, and then someone in the background speaking, and then-- 

"i need your help." his voice is quiet like he doesn't want anyone to hear what he's saying. 

what time is it? have you ever heard satoru say those words before? 

your first thought is that he's on another mission. that there's a cursed spirit and he needs some assistance. but when has satoru gojo asked anyone for help with a cursed spirit? when has he ever needed it? suguru was typically there to keep him from-- 

you pause, sitting up in bed. this might be a nightmare, but usually, you're more accustomed to them. "where are you?" you ask him, speaking in the same soft voice. 

you expect him to name off some city, some house, some country that you couldn't possibly get to. you expect him to crack a joke, say something to you about being lost without him, or laugh at how serious your voice sounds. but he only murmurs, "at your door." 

like it isn't a completely crazy thing to say. how does he even know where you live? 

"it's one in the morning," you say, frowning. some small part of you wants him to actually be there, expecting a knock to come from the void of your hallway. and the other, much bigger part, thank you, wants him to be joking. 

"i know," he sighs, and the receiver is muffled again, and then, "can you open it?" 

"what's going on?" 

"please," he repeats. there's no joke to this. this is not satoru asking you if you want to go get donuts at six in the morning, or milkshakes at midnight. "i'll explain. i just need your help." 

you bite back some remark about how he hasn't needed your help for the past year. about how he hasn't called, hasn't texted, and hasn't even asked about you since-- 

but you stand up, trying to untangle a knot in your hair. you hang up on him without answering. your heart gets a bit of satisfaction from that. 

and go to your door, giving yourself two seconds to prepare for the real-life satoru in front of your face. blue-everything eyes, you think, wall white hair, and a stupid smile. 

but when you open it, your eyes drift to his (sort of) like they're already sure of where exactly he might be, it isn't just him. 

there's a little boy--as tall as satoru's waist, with dark hair and furrowed brows to match--standing in front of another little girl--the same dark hair, but blank face--glaring up at satoru like he's kidnapped both of them. 

your eyes widen as you realize that he probably has. 

"this is basically every kid's dream," he's telling this boy, his playful voice like they’ve known each other for years. "i got you candy and i'm letting you stay up late. why aren't you normal?" 

"why aren't you?" this boy retorts, and his voice is hard. unreasonably sarcastic for such a small person. it might make you giggle, the obvious tension between the two of them, if you weren't so worried about these kids' poor parents, freaking out at their disappearance. 

the little girl is the first to notice you there, and she waves, her face much softer, much more exhausted than the boys in front of her. but she doesn't look frightened; not concerned with wherever this strange man has taken the two of them. 

and satoru looks up at the motion, his mouth turning as he looks at you. 

the little boy frowns, but his eyes settle. there's a brief moment where he watches you and you think that he's about to start begging for your help, but then it's gone. and his eyes trail back to satoru, still angry. 

you blink, swallowing at the three of them. this is not ice cream.

"satoru," you get out, eventually. "where did you get these kids?" 

*

"okay," you set a glass of water on the coffee table, trying to put on a normal smile. your hands are shaking, so you tuck them under your sleeves. "i'm sorry i don't have a lot of extra blankets, but if you get cold i'll go look through some boxes and see what i can find." 

it's been ten minutes with them inside your apartment, and you already feel like you're doing something wrong. satoru, obviously, just briefly introduced the two of them to you, before you grabbed his arm and dragged him--along with the kids that trailed behind--into your apartment. 

you'd hissed at him about how it was cold, and one in the morning, and they needed to be asleep. he only smiled and asked how you were. 

so now they're cuddled up on your couch, with your only spare blanket, both of them with dreary eyes. you're trying not to look too closely--to check if they've been crying, or if they're harmed in any sort of way.

the little boy--megumi--nods and tsumiki smiles at you. 

how four little eyes can look so appreciative, you're not sure.

satoru is leaning against the wall behind you, watching you move around these children like it's normal, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from screaming at him.

"is there anything else you need?" you ask them, trying to be softer than you are. you should’ve taken that babysitting job when you were twelve; you’re completely out of your depth here.

megumi shakes his head. 

"no, we're good," tsumiki says. 

and you seriously want to get them to a hospital. where did they come from? why does satoru have them? is he insane? are they insane? have you just dreamt this all up?

"okay, satoru and i are just going to go talk in the kitchen for a bit. come get me if you need anything." and you smile again, taking a couple of hesitant steps as they both look away from you to the show that tsumiki put on when you handed her the remote. 

at least they're not outside anymore.

you drag satoru into the kitchen, thinking about knocking the wind right out of him. he's always been particularly punchable, but right now he's even more so. 

and he's smiling adoringly at you. 

“satoru," you grind out, trying to keep your voice down. he leans against your countertop, crossing his legs. 

and he hums inquisitively. “you know, i don’t think megumi likes me very much.” 

“satoru.” 

“not sure…" he scratches his head, white hair falling over his sunglasses. "i mean he’s kind of a weird kid but still. i took them to the store to pick out anything they wanted and neither of them got anything. even when i showed them the different cakes they had in the bakery. there were matcha rolls today, too. do you think they’re robots or something?” 

“satoru. where did you get those children?” your voice is a step away from furious. 

why is he here right now? why does he just barge into your life at unprecedented moments, acting like nothing has changed between the two of you? 

acting like you haven't missed the sound of his voice or the way he speaks with his hands, or how he's standing right next to you, warmth radiating off of him like a toxin. 

“is that important right now?” he asks. “we’re talking about their spending habits.” 

“i’m talking about you. tell me that you didn’t steal them from the park and that i’m not obligated to report you.” 

“are you serious?" he shakes his head at you, his voice still teasing, calm as ever. "you think i’d just take some random kids home with me?” 

“i don’t know!" you tell him, finally breaking--your voice is raised, and you almost don't notice. "i don’t even know how you got here, or where you’ve been in the past six months, or whose children those are because they are certainly not yours.” 

he pouts. “you don’t think they look like me?” 

“you’re too pale.” 

“that’s rude, you—“ 

“whose kids are they? now, satoru.” 

you hope your face looks intimidating, but honestly, your demand is more like a suggestion when it comes to satoru. he can listen or he can leave. 

you don't know which one you want more. 

there’s a beat of silence where he rubs his foot on the ground, messing up your tiled floors probably. and then he sighs, relenting. “…toji zenin’s.”

he could’ve said anything else and you wouldn’t even care. oh, he found those kids abandoned in a warehouse on a mission? cool. oh, he found some long-lost cousins? great. if it were anything else, you would've waved him off and told him that he needed to get them new clothes, or something. 

but this? 

“what?!” 

“shh. you’re the one who said they need to sleep," he tries to look around the corner of your hallway, even though you both know he doesn't need to.

you’re gawking at him, but, really, can it be helped?

“toji zenin?!”

“well technically fushiguro according to the records i dug up. but zenin nonetheless...” 

“you stole his kids?!” 

“i didn’t steal—“ 

“he tries to kill you so you kill him instead and take his children hostage?!” 

this would be a wonderful moment to wake up.

satoru waves this statement off, frowning. “you’re really brushing over the ‘tried to kill me’ part. what? you don’t care about me?” 

“why do you have them, satoru? what are you planning to do? torture them for information?" your eyes are wide and your heart is panicked. "they’re kids—“ 

he scowls. “of course not.” 

“then what? tell me everything, starting from when toji tried to kill you.” 

“why do you automatically think i did something?" he complains. "it’s not like i asked zenin to kill me first. i didn’t bait him into slicing my throat open.”

“because you always start the problems.” 

“not true. sometimes i solve them, and sometimes i—“ 

“how did you find out about them?” 

he sighs. “he told me about megumi, before he, ya know,” and then he makes a motion across his neck. and a terrible noise that supposedly indicates death. 

you don't even mock him for it “why?” you ask. 

“megumi might inherit the zenin technique. he’s worth a lot to the zenin clan, and i guess that toji made a deal with them.” 

“you guess?” 

“well, it’s not like i had a whole lot of time between the resurrection and murdering thing to ask him. i didn’t invite the guy out for tea so he could tell me about his pride and joy," his voice is riddled with sarcasm, so you can't decide if he's joking or not. 

he is the most infuriating person you've ever met. 

“so what? he asked you to keep megumi away from them?”

“no, he didn’t seem the sentimental type. maybe he told me cause he didn’t want megumi to grow up there, or maybe he told me so i could claim the prize money for myself.” he shrugs. “it doesn’t matter.” 

you glare at him. “oh, it doesn’t?”

“no. i asked megumi what he wanted and this was it. he doesn’t want to live there and leave tsumiki behind, or have her live in that misogynistic shithole.” 

“how old is he?” 

satoru almost winces. "uh, six?”

“you don’t even know how old he is?” you close your eyes, shaking your head. 

“he’s in first grade! we haven’t gone through all of the basics yet.” 

“and tsumiki?” 

“…nine.” 

“satoru.” 

“i’ll figure it out. megumi acts like he’s fifty years old anyway, so what do i care?” 

you can practically see him rolling his eyes. 

“what do you care?" you repeat, mocking. "you just told me that megumi made this decision for himself. he's a kid. he probably doesn’t understand—“ 

“he understands that if he goes to the zenin clan his sister will suffer in whatever way they deem fit. i mean, you know what it’s like for girls there—especially without any cursed energy.” 

“you cant just make this decision for them on a whim, satoru. have you thought any of it through? where are they going to stay? who’s going to watch them when you’re sent away? where are they going to go to school? what if megumi does inherit his cursed technique?” 

“all of that doesn’t matter. i'll figure it out," he waves off the topic of their lives like it's a mere suggestion, "what matters is that i keep those kids from being subjected to a life of servitude and competition. that they get to be kids while they can.” 

you swallow. is there a way not to be frightened by this? “i know—i know where you’re coming from," you give him a weak smile, trying not to yell, or fight, or question this so much that satoru shuts down. "it’s nice of you to be… worried about them. but this isn’t like taking in a lost kitten, satoru. these are children.” 

“do you really feel the need to point that out?” 

“yes. what do you know about kids?” 

he smiles, wide. “nothing!” he exclaims. “that’s why i came here. and you’re already doing a great job.” 

you frown. “what do i know about kids?” 

“well, you like them, don’t you?” 

“what?” 

“when we went to that daycare center during second year you played with all of the kids. you like them," he nods as if affirming it himself. 

you went to a daycare with satoru once to take care of a grade three curse and apparently, it's led him to insanity. 

“you’re comparing my hide-and-seek skills to taking care of those two kids on my own?"

“i mean, i’ll be here too...” 

“taking care of three children on my own?” you correct. 

satoru pouts. 

you think about what suguru told you after riko amanai died; about satoru and the shift within him. some sort of manic strength he hasn't uttered a word about since. 

but you continue, swallowing. "what's this really about?" you ask, softly, trying not to be mad, or worried, or concerned about why he came here to you. "it's not like you to... take responsibility for something you're not responsible for." 

his pout turns into a frown. you can see his brows furrow. "you don't think i'm capable of helping people?" 

"i know you're capable. but why? why now? i mean, it's been a year since toji died, and you're just getting them now? you suddenly remembered what he said to you?" 

"i had to figure out the logistics of toji's deal." 

"okay," you shake your head, "but still. why not have a family take them in? find someone who can give them a relatively normal life before they're pushed into all of this?" 

satoru's face is blank. "no. what happens when megumi is eight and his new 'parents' put him in a hospital because he's seeing things that they can't?" 

for the first time since he's walked through your front door, he sounds almost serious.

"i--" 

"what happens when they're afraid of him because he draws in cursed energy? when his 'family' rejects him like yours did? like suguru's did?" 

"satoru." 

"honestly, do you think that's any better?" he gestures to your living room, to the kids he's proclaimed responsibility for. "if he does inherit his technique then the zenin clan will go looking for him anyway, and he won't be able to protect himself because there was no one to teach him how. no matter where he goes he's going to be ripped away from tsumiki, who seems to be the only thing he actually cares about. he didn't even want to know--" 

"is this about suguru?" you ask him, the words falling before you can catch them. 

satoru stills. you can see every one of his muscles tense. preparing for a fight. "what?" 

"are you trying to... make up for his decisions? do you feel guilty? is megumi supposed to replace him?" 

"replace him?" 

"i know you think that you can take care of everything on your own, satoru, but you can't. it's not your fault that toji died. and it's not your fault that suguru left--" 

"it is my fault." he says, so softly the words are almost caught before they can reach you. "it is." 

you shake your head. you should've had this conversation months ago. a year ago, before any of this could happen. 

"c'mon, y/n," he continues, no laughter, no smile, no swagger. "i saw what was happening. everyone did. but i was his best friend. i was supposed to be there for him." 

"suguru didn't want you there. he didn't want you to be a part of it." 

"well i could've stopped him. even if i couldn't save suguru--" his voice cracks on his name. "i could've saved everyone else. but i didn't." 

"that's... that's a ridiculous suggestion. how are you supposed to kill your best friend? why should you have to save everyone? why would you even--" 

"megumi isn't some replacement. he's a little boy, and if i'm not there for him then he's going to be stuck with his family. just like i was. he's going to be used for his cursed energy and who knows how he'll turn out? if he'll kill people recklessly like toji, or die trying to do the right thing?" 

you're silent. 

"i'm the only one who can protect him from this," satoru says, and you realize that he's been thinking about this for the past year. that every second since he almost died, this has been on his mind. "they're not going to touch him if i make it clear that i won't let them. i won't--i'm not going to let him become someone he doesn't want to be." 

you sigh. "satoru..." 

his body moves at your voice and he smiles again, shaking off whatever anger you drew out. it's almost a complete shift in who you're talking to. like the stakes no longer matter to him; these kids are just another obstacle to face, a power to control. 

like he's remembered the role he's supposed to play. 

"besides, someone's going to need to take over for me eventually. i might as well train him myself." 

you cant see his eyes, and that’s probably good. you wish someone else were here to take your side, explain to satoru that he’s just a kid himself. that he shouldn't have to take care of everything on his own. 

because when it’s just you, he always has the upper hand. he always gets his way. 

"okay," you say, eventually, after you realize that you'll never win this fight. that you don’t want to fight with him at all.

"okay?" he repeats. "so you'll help me?" 

"help you?" 

"yeah. why do you think i brought them over here?" 

you pause. "you want me... to what? raise them?" 

"with me, yes." 

"are you kidding?" 

"no. you're probably the only person i trust to help." 

the words do something almost indescribable to your body. the person you were a year ago would've cried out in relief, would've clung to him like glue to paper. 

but you frown instead. "seriously?" 

"you've already taken care of them better than i could. look." he drags you around the corner to where tsumiki has her head on megumi's, both of them snoring softly, folded into the blanket you gave them. 

the tv flickers in the background, bothering neither of them. how they've managed to fall asleep with all of the yelling that's been going on, you don't know. 

"see? they already feel safe around you." 

"they're exhausted," you correct, but feel yourself soften at the sight of them. they are kinda cute without the scowl or concern plaguing their faces.

"we're going to be great parents," satoru coos, slinging an arm around your shoulder. 

you push him away. "we are not their parents. we are... permanent babysitters. nannies." 

satoru fixes you with an amused look. "okay." 

"and you still owe me an explanation. i want a complete narrative about what you've been doing for the past six months. and how you found the two of them." 

"okay," he steps closer to you again like you won't notice. 

"and--" you don't have anything else. it's one in the morning. how clear is your mind supposed to be? "and you're paying for anything they need." 

"uh huh." 

eventually, you sigh. it's a surprise that you've lasted this long. "fine. i'll help you. but only because they'd probably die if they spent more than twenty-four consecutive hours with you." 

satoru doesn't say anything--not to whine or roll his eyes--and it's a small acknowledgment, a thank you he doesn't have to say out loud. he'll take this win, at least. 

the two of you watch them, relaxing into the wall. 

after a minute satoru whispers. "by the way..." 

"what?" 

"i didn't tell megumi that i killed toji." 

you turn to him. your eye might as well start twitching. 

"what? he said he didn't want to know--" 

*

you're sneaking into the kitchen when you notice him sitting at the table. his hands are crossed in front of him, his eyes focused on a stain you haven't been able to get off of the wood. 

he's very small, you realize, watching him. his hair is messier than it was the night before, sticking to his head like he slept slumped against it. 

he's not doing anything, really. just sitting there. you can see his legs swinging in the air. 

and before you can prepare for what to say to this little boy who you're probably going to be spending a lot of time with, your mouth is open. "hey," you say to him, just whispering. 

tsumiki must be sleeping. 

megumi looks up, quickly, like he wasn't expecting you to be there. his eyes are wide like he's been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. but then he slumps down again and gives you a brief nod in acknowledgment. then looks back down, because the table is very interesting.

you wonder how many mornings he's woken up alone, with no one to tuck him back in.

"can't sleep?" you ask him, standing across from him and leaning against the table. 

"this is when i usually wake up," you recall his voice the night before when satoru was teasing him, rougher than a boy's should be. but it's soft now, quiet. 

it's probably seven if the clock on your bedside table is to be believed. 

"you were up pretty late, though." 

he almost rolls his eyes, remembering the events of the night before. 

and you can tell that he doesn't really want to talk to you. he doesn't know anything about you, or what you want with him. why should he trust you? 

you clear your throat. "how old are you?" 

he looks up again. "six. why?" 

"satoru wasn't sure." 

this time, megumi actually rolls his eyes. you're familiar with this sort of annoyance directed at satoru, so you smile, just a little bit. at least there's something you can relate to. 

"and tsumiki?" 

"seven." 

you nod, stepping away. 

what do you say to a boy who has been dragged into your home by a maniac? 

you sigh, clearing your throat again. "are you hungry?" 

megumi's eyes narrow. there's a brief second between the two of you, where some sort of understanding passes through his eyes. who was the last person to make him breakfast? 

and then he nods, slowly. 

you smile. "okay. c'mon, let's see if i have anything you like." 

*

next part.

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (7) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: i literally can't take myself seriously with this concept LOL where have my morals gone? lmk if anyone remembers classic kimi fics where smut was nonexistent HAUWHAUA 😭

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

jungkook has been looking over revisions for the past three hours. the promotion was more exciting when he worked for it... now, he feels way too overworked and honestly? for what?

the truth is, he only chased after the promotion because he knew it would be something you'd be proud of him for doing. you've always been the type to chase after things greater than yourself and wished for jungkook to do the same. well, this is it. this is jungkook doing just that for you. he hopes you can see it. he hopes you know it.

currently, he feels like his eyeballs might roll out of his head. he's bored and might lose his mind if he goes through one more slide (he has at least 200 slides left). irritated, he pushes away from his desk and stands up.

he stretches, trying to wake himself up a little more. then, he stares at the view from his office window.

the city is beautiful but he would much rather be looking at you.

suddenly, as if the angels heard him, his phone rings.

it's you.

he picks up immediately.

"hello?"

he doesn't know why, but he feels nervous. you never call. you always text or facetime... a call? what the fuck could be going on?

"hi... are you busy?" you ask, a little quiet. you sound tired.

he raises an eyebrow. "uhh... what's up? everything okay?"

a small laugh escapes your lips. "yeah. why? do i sound—"

"a little sad," he cuts you off, concerned. "___, what's wrong?"

you stay silent for a moment.

"nothing.”

he doesn’t believe you until he hears you sigh in relief.

continuing, you vent; "i just... i think i'm just stressed. i don't know. i wanted a break and suddenly i picked up my phone and called you. s-sorry. i... you're probably busy with the new promotion and—"

"i'm not that busy—"

like perfect timing, jungkook's office line interrupts. "mr. jeon, your 2pm meeting is being pushed back so you have time for lunch today."

jungkook clears his throat and thanks his assistant.

"new assistant?" you ask, letting curiosity get the best of you. "she pretty?"

"she's fired if you want."

"shut up!" you laugh. "i could care less—"

"oh, you care..." jungkook smirks. "hey, i'm glad you called. you can always call. i'm here for you when you need.. i don't want you to think anything else."

"okay.." is all you say.

jungkook takes a deep breath in. "did you eat today?"

"i ate. did you?"

"been busy—"

"you said you weren't busy!"

"hey, i'm not the lawyer!"

"still... i... listen, i'll let you go. i should probably get back to work or something—"

jungkook panics. "i'm cancelling my 2pm."

"what?"

"y-yeah... i'm looking at their revisions and i haven't even gotten through half of it. it's also shit so i'm just gonna tell them to redo everything. will i be the most hated boss? we'll find out."

on the other end of the line, you snicker.

"you can't blow off work."

"i can."

".... c-can i confess something?"

jungkook gulps, feeling sick to his stomach.

"what?"

you fidget with your fingers, unsure if you should continue.

"honey, what is it?" jungkook asks softly. "whatever it is... i'm here for you. you know that."

"i... uhm... i called because i was stressed..."

"... yeah?"

"jungkook," you pause, biting your bottom lip. is it too much to say this? at the same time... it's not like he has ever denied you anything. you might as well... "i need to relieve some stress. like, i need to focus on something that isn't work or our son. you know what i mean? everything is fine, honest! i just... i want to be focused on something and be present. i feel like i've been mindless for a hot minute... i just... look, if you're going home... is it okay if i come over? can i suck your dick or something?"

jungkook rushes home.

he changes his bedsheets and runs a quick shower. it's not like he needed to put in this much effort (it's literally the bare minimum) but it's the first time in a long time where you needed him. having sex and initiating was more so 50/50; but this was different. you need him.

he's your relief.

and also... it's a little funny, is it not? it's only 2pm on a random wednesday and you need him.

when you arrive, jungkook takes a few deep breaths before opening the door. his studio apartment is definitely smaller than your place (aka the place you two shared for 4 years), but it's okay. it's only temporary. he knows in his heart that he'll be back home with you in no time. this afternoon proves exactly that...

if today you need him for his body and tomorrow you need his heart; he'd give it.

"wow... i hate this already." you take a minute to laugh at yourself. you feel so beyond stupid and embarrassed... it's practically indescribable. though you and jungkook fool around and have always had an active sex life... right now felt different. right now felt... weird? but if it was ever going to feel weird; at least it's with him.

before you even step foot inside his place, you're turning your heel. "you know what? i should... uhm, this was stupid. sorry—"

jungkook grabs your arm and pulls you inside.

you stay still as he leans towards you face. he pokes your cheek and chuckles. "come on, honey. i said i'd be here for you. let me be here for you."

squinting at him, you move his finger off your face. "you just want your dick sucked."

"you offered," he snorts. "so pull through."

in hindsight, jungkook should've been more prepared than this.

but he isn't.

he fights to urge to spill himself all over your pretty hands every time you pump his cock. it's toe-curling the way you drag your wrist up and down. he throws his head back so much, it's beginning to get sore. leaving him with no option but to fucking watch you give him the most life changing blowjob of his life.

"are you okay?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. "you look stressed."

"i am stressed."

"what? why—"

"no! f-fuck, don't stop." he growls, not liking the way you suddenly stop. you purse your lips, catching on that he just feels edged out.

already?

... okay.

you continue to pump him, gripping on the base of his cock and moving your way up. his skin is so soft yet he's so hard. like... so fucking hard you know for a fact you don't want to fuck him right now. it'd hurt too much.

"you're so hard already," you utter under your breath. "and i swear to god, it's like your dick gets bigger every time i see it."

"i love you more every time i see you that's why."

"damn," you hiss. "can you... just let me do this? i wanna focus on... wanna focus on—"

"shut up."

you laugh, reaching up to place a kiss on his lips. he leans forward, gladly meeting your lips. when you pull away, you plop yourself in a more exact position in front of him. jungkook feels his balls get heavy as you kneel, part his legs, and begin to tie your hair up.

he helps you.

gathering your hair, you give him your hair tie. he quickly ties your hair before leaning back and trying to catch one last good breath.

he fails.

his breath hitches as you kiss his tip.

"w-wait—"

you don't.

you lick his length, dragging your tongue down to his base. there, you suck his balls and use your hands to pump. jungkook gulps, watching you do this. he doesn't know what to do. usually, he's really into it but there's something different about right now.

right now, he's in a trance.

he's mesmorized at how much your touch changes all the chemistry in his body. saying you send electricity throughout his body is an understatement. butterflies don't mean a damn thing either. it's captivating and everything but sweet.

it feels twisted in his stomach. it feels like he's on the edge on a cliff and the only way he can ease his fear is by jumping off.

he has to give in and let his body react to you.

he has to let you have this and from the looks of it (and feel of it); you've giving him everything you've got.

just then, you snap jungkook out of his thoughts as you attempt to take him inside your mouth. you make an effort to look up, eyes teary from holding in your gag. he's so big. there's no other way to explain it and there's no way you're going to stop thinking it.

he's so fucking big.

like what other choice do you have but to slobber all over it? you just have to. not to mention, he always tastes good. his cum, yes, but just his dick in general... is that weird? who cares.

jungkook's dick barely fits in your mouth. but you try to make it work. you want him—all of him. as you bob your head, easing your way to his full length, jungkook lets out a loud moan.

you look up and see his chest rising and falling. his abdomen twitches and so does his dick. you like the way he looks right now. as you suck, his breathing intensifies. soon, he's panting and you're near gagging.

you take a moment to catch your breath.

pulling away, your hands continue the show. jungkook brings his attention back to your hands and watches as the tip of his cock turns angry. god, it's getting bigger?

you practically drool.

jungkook leans over and wipes the access saliva around your lips. then, he shoves his thumb into your mouth. happily, you suck on it. bobbing your head, shutting your eyes, and letting out little moans; jungkook feels like he's losing his mind.

you look so fucking pretty.

when he takes his thumb out, you dive back to his dick. this time, he holds you by the back of your neck and guides you through it. jungkook pushes your head slowly but surely. then, he stops moving it. he keeps it in place as he lifts his hips and rolls them.

before you know it, he's fucking your mouth.

rolling your eyes back, jungkook moans at the sight. of course you're taking it like a slut. of course you're enjoying it too.

"you like this, huh? you like having your face fucked?" jungkook hisses in between breathy pants.

you gag in response.

jungkook pulls his dick out and slaps your mouth with it. his veiny member feels so good against your lips. you want it back in your mouth.

"answer me."

"mhmm," you whimper. "i like it so much. put it back in—mmhph—"

"fuck yes," he shoves his cock back into your mouth. "so pretty, honey. the absolute prettiest."

suddenly, he lets you go. it's then that you take the liberty to give it everything you've got.

you twirl your tongue around his tip, suck his length in every way possible. your hands pump to compliment your oral skills and jungkook can't help but think he's the luckiest man on earth.

then, it happens.

you feel his dick twitch. he instantly thrusts himself more aggressively to chase the climax. you behave and take it. then, squirts of his cum escape his tip. he cries, pulls out of your mouth, and aims at your face.

you shut your eyes, feeling his cum hit your cheeks and lips.

he lets out a moan of relief.

after a moment passes, you get up from your position and sit on his lap. wrapping your legs around him, he offers you a tired smile. then, he lifts his hands to wipe his cum off your face. opening your mouth, he gives it to you like icing.

you swallow and he feels like he might need a fucking minute.

then, you let out a little giggle when you notice how sweaty he is. you push his hair back and begin to laugh.

"w-what?" he worries. "why are you laughing at me?"

"you're sweating? as if you did any work—"

"i was literally fucking your face!"

"yeah but you're not the one that's gonna have sore cheeks for like three days or bruised knees!"

he shuts up.

you roll your eyes at him and continue to play with his hair. you feel his dick calm down under you. thank god. that fucking beast is scary when you're not in the mood...

"what time is it?" you ask, breaking the silence and breathing in the smell of sin.

jungkook shrugs. "dunno. also don't wanna move. stay like this with me."

you huff. "should i take my panties off or something?"

"why?"

"wanna cockwarm me?"

seriously...

he just might be the luckiest man on earth.

jungkook clears his throat as you straighten up your posture. "wait, i'll just put my panties to the side like this—ahh, mmhmm... y-yeah. like this.... feels good."

by now, jungkook's soft cock is inside you.

you like the feeling and so does he.

suddenly, you rest your head of his shoulder. he wraps his arms around you and holds you. kissing the side of your head, he asks; "you feeling better? relieved?"

"mhmm."

"good." jungkook tightens his lips, as he brings his hands to your hair. he runs them through and you take a deep breath in. you like the way he feels right now... so intimate.

"hey... did we talk a lot during sex?" he asks.

"don't remember."

"oh, okay..." jungkook looks around his studio apartment and suddenly feels embarrassed at how messy it is. "can i come with you to pick zion up today?"

"sure."

jungkook tightens his hold on you. you laugh and tell him it's too tight. he stops squeezing you and asks for a kiss. you give it to him. against your lips, he mummbles; "am i talking too much? i think i'm nervous or something—"

"then shut up."

"hey—"

you pull away and cup his cheeks.

"i feel your dick rising inside me. i don't have the energy for round two. either make the boner go away or i'll get off."

jungkook gulps. then, he shuts his eyes and thinks of every possible un-sexy thing ever... and it works. his dick softens again and you thank him with a kiss. jungkook takes his chance and intertwines your fingers together. you let him do so and his heart soars. something about him being inside you makes you feel so whole. there’s no denying that… and you love it, really. you love him, truly.

for a few more moments, you two stay like this.

you two are together.

[ysobelfours]

Lando's First Win — LN4

in which your boyfriend won a grand prix for the first time in his career.

lando norris x fem!reader

warnings; 18+ content !! MINORS DNI !! half of the story is SMUT, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), clubbing, drunk lando, praise, hair pulling, oral both receiving, and etc. word count: 3978

note: not proofread, not edited, will maybe; also, this oneshot has no mentions of y/n!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

i was glued to the tv, watching the race like my life depended on it. man, i wish i could've been there in person, but nope, some last-minute work drama had me stuck at home. so there i was, heart pounding like crazy as i saw lando leading the pack, holding onto that sweet p1 spot with just 10 laps to go.

after a nail-biting ten laps, lando clinched his first-ever grand prix win in miami, crossing the checkered flag with style. bursting with excitement, i immediately sent him a message to offer my heartfelt congratulations. and of course, i had to capture the historic moment, snapping a quick pic of his finish on my tv screen and sharing it with the world on my instagram story.

amidst the interviews, podium celebrations, and photo ops with the mclaren team, lando's mind kept drifting back to one thing: my message. he couldn't shake the anticipation of reading my words of support, knowing that even though i couldn't be there in person, i was cheering him on from afar.

finally, as the chaotic whirlwind of post-race activities began to settle, lando seized the opportunity to check his phone. with a quick swipe, he navigated to his messages, looking for my name. his heart skipped a beat when he saw my name.

"hey baby! can't believe it, i did it!" lando greeted me as soon as i picked up his call. i could tell that he was smiling from the tone of his voice.

"oh my gosh, lan, i knew you could do it! you were incredible out there!" i excitedly responded to him.

"thanks, baby! it feels unreal. i'm just so pumped right now!"

"you should be! you deserve to celebrate this big win. any plans?"

lando pauses, thinking "hmm, not really, just thinking of winding down, you know?"

i frowned upon hearing his response, how could he not celebrate his first win properly?!

“absolutely not! you were on fire out there! you know what? you've got to celebrate this win properly." i rolled my eyes as the words came out of my mouth.

lando laughs, "yeah, baby? you think? got any suggestions?" he asks eagerly.

i started to think and an idea popped up in my gorgeous, genius mind! fortunately, i was done with the work assigned to me.

"hmm, how about a little victory party at the club? you deserve to let loose and enjoy the moment, along with the grid, ya know?!" i giggled, hoping that he would agree so i could push through with my plan.

lando considers it, "you might be right, sweetheart. but i'm not sure…" he sounded sarcastic on the other line, probably just to tease me. i sighed and rolled my eyes, again.

"come on, lan! you've worked so hard for this. make some memories! trust me, you won't regret it." i demanded, hoping that he would agree now.

lando was obviously smiling "alright, you've convinced me! let's do it!"

"that's the spirit! now go have some fun, and i'll catch up with you later, lan, okay?":

“sounds like a plan! love you, baby!”

"love you too! enjoy the celebration!"

as lando hangs up, little does he know that i've already booked a two hour long flight to miami along with a suite, determined to surprise him and celebrate his victory in person. with a mischievous grin, i start packing my bags, thrilled at the thought of seeing the look of surprise on his face when i show up unannounced.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

inside club velocity, the atmosphere pulsed with energy as lando, surrounded by his fellow drivers, basked in the euphoria of his first grand prix victory. the music thumped, mingling with the cheers and laughter of the crowd as they toasted to his success.

lando, wearing a grin that could light up the night sky, raised his glass in a toast, his eyes sparkling with joy and gratitude. around him, his friends and teammates clapped him on the back, their voices blending into a chorus of congratulations.

as the night wore on, the celebration only grew more spirited, with lando at the center of it all, soaking in every moment of his well-deserved triumph. little did he know, an even greater surprise awaited him, one that would make this unforgettable night even more memorable.

as soon as i finished getting ready, i messaged carlos to ask him which club they’re at.

me: "hey carlos! hope you guys are having a blast celebrating lando's win! which club are you all at?"

carlos: "hey! yeah, it's wild here! we're at club velocity on south beach. you should come join us!"

me: "awesome, thanks! see you there!" with carlos's reply in hand, i quickly went inside my rented vehicle, my heart pounding with excitement at the thought of surprising lando and joining in the celebration of his first grand prix victory.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

i got to the club as quickly as possible. still making sure that i wore my signature carol h. good girl scent.

as i approached lando, i noticed his glazed eyes scanning the crowd, seemingly lost in a haze of alcohol. but then, something shifted. his brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before his expression softened, and he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring slightly.

suddenly, his gaze sharpened, and a spark of recognition ignited in his eyes. "wait… i know that scent," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music.

a smile spread across my face as i watched him, knowing exactly what he was sensing. then, in an instant, his face lit up with realization, and he turned towards me with newfound clarity.

"it's you, baby! it’s you!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight as he lunged forward to envelop me in a warm embrace.

relieved and touched by his recognition, i hugged him back, feeling the tension melt away as he held me close. it was a moment of pure connection amidst the chaos of the club, a reminder of the bond we shared.

as we pulled apart, lando's grin was infectious, his eyes bright with happiness. "i can't believe you're here, baby, you’re really here" he said, his voice filled with genuine surprise and gratitude.

i chuckled, shaking my head fondly. "wouldn't miss celebrating with you, lan. even if you're a little… tipsy."

lando laughed, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "yeah, maybe i went a bit overboard."

"seriously though, you're swaying more than the palm trees outside and your words are starting to sound like a foreign language. i think it's time we got you home, don't you?"

lando slowly nods sheepishly "yeah, you're probably right. i guess i got caught up in the moment." he giggled and pinched my cheek.

“i missed you so much, baby. i love you” he whispered in my ear, lightly biting it. i couldn't help my cheeks from turning hot after what he said.

i struggled to make up my words before i responded, “i missed you too, lan. i love you.” i gave him a peck on the cheek and ruffled his curly hair. he smiled at me, a smile warm enough to melt my heart.

“let’s get you some rest, lan. say goodbye to the grid.” i guided lando to stand up, his hand wrapped around my waist to help him navigate his way through the crowd.

“hey guys, i just wanted to say a huge thank you for being here tonight to celebrate with lando. it means the world to him, and to me."

"of course! lando's victory is something we all wanted to celebrate together!" carlos smiled and gave lando a pat on the back.

"absolutely, it's been an amazing night. but right now, my love needs some rest. take care, everyone!"

as we exchanged farewells and well-wishes, i couldn't help but feel grateful for the support of lando's friends. with smiles and nods all around, lando quickly waved goodbye and thanked his fellow drivers.

as we navigated out the club, lando's whispers filled the air, his words a mixture of adoration and drunken rambling. "you're so beautiful, baby" he murmured, his voice filled with affection. "and i've missed you so much."

i chuckled softly, feeling a wave of warmth wash over me. "i've missed you too, lan. but let's save the sweet talk for when you're a bit more sober, alright?"

lando nodded earnestly, his gaze locking with mine. "yeah, you're right, baby. but seriously, your smell… it's intoxicating. i can't get enough of it."

grinning, i squeezed his hand gently. "thanks, love. i'll take that as a compliment, even if it's coming from a slightly intoxicated mind."

with a sheepish grin, lando leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "i mean it, though, my love. you always smell like home to me."

as i opened the door to the shotgun seat, lando stumbled slightly as he climbed in, his movements slowed by the alcohol. with a patient smile, i guided him into the seat, making sure he was settled before reaching for his seatbelt.

as i leaned over to fasten his seatbelt, lando took advantage of the close proximity and planted a quick, sneaky kiss on my neck. the unexpected gesture sent a tingling sensation through me, but i brushed it off with a playful roll of my eyes.

"behave yourself, lan," i teased, my tone lighthearted as i finished securing his seatbelt.

with a mischievous grin, lando giggled and leaned back in his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. i closed the door with a soft chuckle, taking a moment to compose myself before heading around to the driver's side.

as i settled into the driver's seat and started the engine, i couldn't help but smile at the lingering warmth of lando's kiss against my neck. but with a shake of my head, i focused on the road ahead, determined to get us back to our hotel safely.

as lando drifted off to sleep beside me, his face softened into a peaceful expression. i couldn't help but admire him at that moment. here was a guy who'd poured his heart and soul into his passion, and tonight, it had paid off big time.

i thought back on all the blood, sweat, and tears he'd poured into his career, the late nights at the track, the tough races, and the moments of doubt. but through it all, he'd never given up.

now, as he slept, i saw a sense of calm wash over him, like he'd finally achieved what he'd been working towards all this time. it was a pretty amazing feeling to witness.

at that moment, i realized how lucky i was to share this journey with him. and as i stole glances at him sleeping, i couldn't help but feel a wave of pride for everything he'd accomplished.

as i shook lando awake, his sleepy voice sent a blush creeping up my cheeks. "hey, love. did we make it to the hotel already?"

i managed a smile, trying to hide my embarrassment. "yeah, we're here, sleepyhead," i replied softly, guiding him out of the car.

lando leaned heavily on me, his arm draped over my shoulder. it was a struggle to help him towards the elevator, his weight making each step a challenge.

"you're amazing, baby" lando slurred, his words sincere but slightly garbled.

i chuckled, feeling both amused and touched by his compliment. "just doing my best, lan" i replied modestly, navigating us through the lobby.

lando's closeness sent a flutter through me, his arm around my neck, dangling through my breasts as we walked made me feel the way i felt earlier when he kissed me on the neck.

as we reached the suite, i gently guided lando towards the bed, urging him to lie down and get some rest. but to my surprise, he resisted, his eyes pleading as he reached out to me.

"i don't want to sleep yet, baby" he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "i've missed you so much."

my heart skipped a beat at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through me. despite his drunken state, there was an intensity in his gaze that left me breathless.

"i've missed you too, lan," i whispered, my voice barely above a hush as i met his gaze.

“c’mere, beautiful” lando patted the space next to him in the bed, asking me to sit down beside him.

there was a charged silence between us, the air thick with unspoken desires and yearning. in that moment, it felt as if time stood still, the world narrowing down to just the two of us in the dimly lit room.

and then, almost as if on instinct, lando's hand reached out to cup my cheek, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. the intensity of his gaze held me captive, drawing me closer until our lips were mere inches apart.

without a word, our lips met in a tender, lingering kiss, a silent expression of all the emotions that had been building between us. it was a kiss filled with longing and desire, a silent promise of what was to come.

"so beautiful, my love," lando mumbled in between our kisses, his voice thick with emotion. "you don't know how long i've waited for this."

his words sent a thrill through me, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between us for far too long. with each touch of his lips against mine, i felt myself melting into him, consumed by the heat of our passion.

our kisses deepened, each one more fervent than the last, as if we were trying to convey all the pent-up longing and desire that had been simmering between us for so long. "tastes like heaven, baby" lando murmured between kisses, his voice husky with desire.

"i've missed this so much, lan" i confessed, my breath hitching as his fingers traced patterns along my skin.

lando paused, his touch gentle yet charged with an electric intensity. "i've missed this just as much, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. "more than words can say."

his hands roamed over to my wet panties that sent shivers down my spine, igniting a hunger that burned hotter with each passing moment. "you're so beautiful, and wet for me, baby" he whispered, his voice filled with reverence as he started to play with my clit.

i arched into his touch, wordlessly urging him closer, craving the delicious friction of our bodies melding together. "don't stop," i pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper as the sensations threatened to overwhelm me.

two of his fingers slipped inside me, and i found myself clutching his hair. “don’t stop, lan. more, please,” i urged, my voice tinged with urgency and longing. and, as always, he delivered without hesitation.

“so wet for me, and only for me, baby,” he murmured against my skin, his tone raw with desire, igniting a primal spark within me.

lando's eyes darkened with hunger as he drew nearer, his breath a tantalizing caress against my ear. "you're mine," he whispered, possessiveness lacing his words, sparking a thrill of excitement in my chest. "all mine."

a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine at his words, a silent agreement to the intensity of our connection. "yes, lan," i responded softly, the words barely escaping my lips, "only yours."

with a shared understanding, he guided me onto his waiting mouth, each movement charged with unspoken longing.

“want to taste you so bad, baby,” he growled softly, his breath warm against my skin as his tongue danced with mine, exploring every curve and crevice with eager reverence.

“tastes damn good, pretty girl,” he rasped, his voice a husky murmur of appreciation as he savored the intimacy of the moment.

with every lick, i felt myself edging closer to the end, our bodies moving in sync, a symphony of pleasure and desire. he quickened the pace, driving me towards the edge until i was teetering on the brink, my senses ablaze with sensation.

"fuck, lan. i’m so fucking close," i moaned, the words tumbling from my lips in a breathless plea for release.

i hit my breaking point, just lost in the moment, riding that wave of pure pleasure, my voice echoing in the silence of the room.

as i caught my breath, i gazed at lando with a sense of wonder, gratitude swelling in my chest for the connection we shared.

“c’mere, pretty. take my pants off for me, will ya?” he said, his voice tinged with anticipation. and without hesitation, i obliged, eager to reciprocate the pleasure he had just given me.

as i removed his pants, his eyes locked onto me, filled with unmistakable desire. when he pulled out his length from his boxers, i was taken aback; it seemed even bigger than before.

lando noticed my gulp as i stared at him, clearly turned on by my reaction.

without warning, he guided himself into my mouth, gently gathering my hair into a makeshift ponytail as he directed my movements.

"i missed this fucking mouth," lando grunted, his hand instinctively moving my head forward and backward until his length reached my throat.

“ah, fuck, baby, your mouth feels incredible,” he moaned, his eyes closing in pleasure as he savored the sensations. releasing his grip on my head, he allowed me full control.

i licked the tip of his shaft teasingly, before gradually taking him deeper until i reached his base. “you're so fucking beautiful like this, love. such a good girl, taking me fully” he struggled to praise, his words punctuated by moans of pleasure.

each sound he made spurred me on, igniting a deeper desire within me. with passion driving me, i gave him my all, the rhythm of my mouth against his cock filling the room.

“so good with your mouth like this, love. fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he thrust his hips, his movements growing more urgent.

“baby, i’m about to cum,” he warned between moans. i yearned for him to finish so we could move on to the next stage; my anticipation palpable.

“i’m cumming, baby. fuck, i’m cumming. you’re so fucking good at this, my love,” he smiled appreciatively as i swallowed, clearly impressed and aroused by my eagerness.

turning me around, he instructed, “on your knees, my love.”

"lando," i breathed, my voice a mix of warning and longing, almost on the edge of a whine. my legs remained spread as i faced away from him, fighting the urge to squirm, my patience wearing thin.

lando's grin widened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as his hands pushed my legs further apart, positioning himself at the entrance of my wetness.

"you look stunning from this angle, love," he hummed, his voice laced with teasing sweetness. "you need me badly, don’t you, love?" his length traced over my folds teasingly, sending shivers down my spine.

though i hesitated to admit it, i couldn't deny the truth as my hips involuntarily bucked upwards, a strangled moan escaping me when he pinched my clit.

"i need you," i whimpered almost shamefully, my head falling back in surrender. "so bad, lan."

"i need you inside me," i mumbled, making his smirk return.

"missed you so fucking much," he hisses, parting my legs further as my breath got faster.

"missed you too, lan" i assured him, a moan slipping past my lips as i felt his tip pressing against my folds, though he made no further movements. i pushed my hip back to feel his length.

his hand tangling in my hair and creating a makeshift ponytail ─ one he tugged on immediately, forcing my head up.

"use your words, m' love" lando's lips grazed my ear, his cock still lightly pressing against my entrance, causing me to cry out.

"i want you to fuck me," i whined, rushing my words out as my hips pressed backward.

"need you, lan, please," i whimpered, sounding desperate.

he entered me without warning, bottoming out as my walls wrapped around him, our gasps mingling as i gripped the bedsheets below.

"always taking me so well," lando grunted in my ear as his thrusts became rougher, deeper, ensuring i felt every inch of him.

every movement sent pleasure coursing through my body, my moans filling the room as i surrendered to the pleasure.

"you feel amazing, lan," i stumbled out, my eyes rolling back as my body melted under his touch.

lando, too, seemed lost in the sensation, his head thrown back as he moved with purpose, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room.

"does it feel good?" his question was rhetorical, just a way to chase praise, but i could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences.

i nodded, the only response i could manage in his hold.

"damn, you're just perfect, baby," lando grunted, his kiss on my shoulder was gentle compared to what was happening between my legs.

it was almost too much, the tears and whimpers making it clear i was close to another climax. and just the thought had him reaching his own peak.

"cum on my cock, baby. cum for me," he urged in my ear, sending shivers down my spine as my second orgasm hit. i practically screamed, going limp in his arms.

feeling me tighten around him had him climaxing too, groaning as he leaned against me, both of us catching our breath.

his touches became softer as he pulled away, guiding me to lean against the counter. we fell into a comfortable silence, his hands gentle on my waist.

"wanna hop in the shower?" lando's voice broke the quiet, a grin spreading across his face, and i felt a wave of relief.

i grinned back and nodded, and he chuckled, lifting me effortlessly and carrying me off to the bathroom.

after a relaxing shower together, we dried off and crawled into bed, exhausted yet content. the weight of the day's activities and the intimacy we shared left us feeling pleasantly worn out.

"baby, that was something else," lando chuckled, his arm wrapping around me as he pulled me close. his laughter was infectious, echoing the contentment that filled the room.

"definitely," i agreed, snuggling against him. the warmth of his body against mine was comforting, a tangible reminder of the bond we shared.

in the morning, we woke to the gentle rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. the tranquility of the moment was almost tangible as we lay intertwined, basking in the quiet stillness of the early hours.

"morning, love," lando greeted me with a smile, his eyes filled with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to my lips. the warmth of his lips against mine was a sweet welcome to the new day.

"morning, sleepyhead," i teased, returning his kiss with a playful grin.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hope u enjoyed reading my first fan-fic <3 feel free to give prompts and request !! enjoy !

[awakenedevildays]

「take-out and matches」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

you can read the other parts here!

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

currently thinking of Art watching his latest match on tv to see the mistakes he has done and how he can improve: he is sitting with his bare back comfortably resting against the cushion of the couch, arms crossed against his chest and legs slightly spread and if it wasn't for his eyes fixed on the TV, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips forming a thin line you wouldn't have never guessed he was so focused.

You are watching him from the door of the living room with his shirt on and slighlty disheveled hair tucked behind your ears, your lips curled into a smile while the fingers of your right hand unconsciously go to play with the engagement ring on the left one. Your eyes follow your own movements for a few seconds before hearing a soft rustle against the fabric of the couch that brings you to look at your fiancé again, he is still looking the tv but his lips are shaped into a small smile and his arms are uncrossed, one tapping against his thigh repeatedly and the other is laid out on the cushions for you to take. You swiftly pad towards him and take his left hand in yours, letting him help you climb on his lap like it's the hardest thing you have to do; he kisses your hand before letting you unwrap yours from his to let you hug his neck with both arms, your head falling in between them and against his throat while he caress your thighs with both hands, your chests pressed together and your legs on both sides of him. 

You both stay silent for a few minutes, the tennis ball being hit over and over and the claps of the people on the tv were the only sounds you could hear along with the gentle breathing of Art under you. 

“You did great today” you mumble against his throat before kissing it. 

“Only because you were there” he replies, his hands moving in up and down motions on your legs “didn’t feel like losing in front of you” you smile and lean back to look at him. 

“You would have been great even then” he finally tears away his eyes from the tv and looks at you, eyes softening seeing your messy hair and droopy eyes caused by the two hours nap you two had.

“I think you're slightly biased” he teases and, while you reach behind you to take the remote from the table in front of the couch, his hands wraps around your middle to prevent you from falling.

You pause the match “I’m just honest, the fact that I’m your fiancée doesn’t have anything to do with my opinion about your game” you turn back to him and comb his blond hair with your fingers. 

“Sure it doesn’t” he sarcastically mumbles while his head drops against your chest in a relaxed way, his arms squeezing around you even tighter making your back arch and chest press more against his face. 

“What do you want to eat? I was thinking we could stay here and order takeaway” your fingers massage the nape of his neck and head. 

“Hamburger sounds nice” he mutters sleepily and you chuckle. 

“You'll have to keep this from your nutritionist” a groan came out of his mouth and a mumbled ‘let’s not talk about my job anymore’ vibrates in your chest. 

“I'll have to find a way to burn the calories quickly though, any idea?" He playfully bites your neck, you shudder taking his face between your hands “i might have a few...” and start to kiss all his face except his lips while he sits there with his eyes semi-closed, his head nuzzles the palm of your left hand. 

“You’re so pretty” he whispers “i really want to kiss you right now” goosebumps takes all over your body and your heart misses a beat, he knows what effect this phrase has on you… it was the same one he said your first date. 

For a moment you went back to 7 years before in your college days: when you were pressed between the passenger door of his car and his body after a walk on the beach, his jacket wrapped around your shoulders and your high-heels in one of his hands while the other had your fingers tangled together, and he whispered the same phrase that made your heart jump and goosebumps rise in the same way it did now. 

“Please do” and he does. 

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

[wheeboo]

laundry day | hansol vernon chwe

SYNOPSIS. in which it's laundry day and you're in a bit of an embarrassing predicament. PAIRING. hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader (however, sorta implied that reader is more leaning toward fem) GENRE. fluff, humour?, best friends/roommates to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, vernon is checking reader out lowkey, reader embarrassingly wears hello kitty underwear i don't make the rules, ik vernon is mainly chill but in this they bicker <3, this was very stupid n silly lmfao WORD COUNT. 1.6k

requested from @weird-bookworm: lemme be annoying already— noni + #16 and #59 from list 1!! - #16: "You hugged me like your personal pillow." - #59: "Laundry day doesn’t mean walking around in your underwear, but for you, I’ll make an exception."

notes: i'm never good with writing humour but i thought of this stupid scenario and idk how i feel BYEE (cuz ur girl lowkey struggled on figuring out how to put #59 in the story lmao) tysm for submitting this in sky <3 and ty @bananabubble for reading it over for me!

join the 2k celebration!

You are so stupid.

So fucking stupid.

How could you let yourself get carried away in loading all your laundry that you forgot to save a pair of pants to wear in the meantime?

You replay everything in your head: your overflowing, neglected laundry basket, the utter satisfaction you felt after loading it... right up until the moment you realised every single pair of pants you own was now basically swimming around in a goddamn whirlpool, and now you're left sporting nothing but your underwear and a shirt that didn't offer much coverage than expected.

You let out an annoyed groan, burying your face into your hands and mentally slapping yourself in the face. The chill of your room sends a trail of goosebumps running up the exposed skin of your legs. There really was nothing you could do but wait for your laundry to finish.

Then your head shoots back up, and maybe your bedroom lights up a bit brighter at your metaphorical lightbulb moment, because you think of Vernon. He's the only other option you have.

Tip-toeing up to your closed door, a bit of hesitancy gnaws at you for being so dumb, before you yell out, "Vernon!"

He's probably in the living room right now𑁋you can overhear the faint music of the record player the two of you snagged at this vintage thrift store the other week. A very good and lucky find, nonetheless.

Taking another (and maybe regrettable) deep breath, you call out again, a little louder this time. "Vernon! Can you hear me?"

The music seems to dip down slightly, and after a moment, the record stops spinning, replaced by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. You brace yourself for the door to swing open to reveal the embarrassing state you're in right now, but it doesn't.

Instead, you hear Vernon's voice respond to you through the door, "Yeah?"

"Uh..." You bite your lip because you can't believe you're about to ask this. "Do you have, um... a pair of pants or shorts I can borrow? I'll give it back to you tomorrow."

For a moment you think he didn't hear you because it's completely silent on the other side of the door, and it does absolutely nothing at calming down your racing heart. You see, you probably should be fine with walking around in your underwear with Vernon because he's your best friend and roommate and he definitely would not judge at all, but it's simply not that simple𑁋

"Did you, like, spill Monster on yourself again?" Vernon asks casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world that you would do (it's happened one too many times).

"Yes, I mean, no, I mean𑁋look, just fetch me a pair and I'll bring it back to you later?"

"Uh, yeah, about that..." He pauses. "I'm wearing my only pair right now since you loaded yours first."

You really should've considered that being best friends with Vernon meant collectively sharing the brain cell of procrastinating when it comes to doing your laundry. Great, just absolutely fantastic. This was very much how you wanted your day to go. Perhaps this is why you're best friends, after all.

"Well, shit," You murmur, more to yourself but Vernon hears it anyway.

"Look, I'm sure it's not that bad, right?" Does he seriously still think you spilled Monster on yourself? "You could probably just𑁋"

You can hardly act by the time the doorknob twists and Vernon peeks his head around the door. But the second he catches sight of you, his eyes flicker over you, before he quickly averts his gaze to the Radiohead poster on your wall. Was it the lighting in your room that's making his face look pink?

You stand there awkwardly, suddenly feeling so exposed in front of him as if some sort of gigantic spotlight was shining down on you. It's not like you haven't been half-naked around each other before, but this feels different... somehow. You don't know why, or maybe you don't want to know.

A cough erupts from Vernon, breaking the sudden silence.

"Oh, wow, um..." He toys with the black hoodie around his head. "I didn't look. I swear."

His eyes dart everywhere except back to you, lingering on the Radiohead poster, the slightly askew picture frame on your desk, just anywhere but you. You don’t know whether to feel relieved or embarrassed.

"Ugh, I'm so stupid." You run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And I have this meeting for work in an hour and I know the laundry won't be done by then. I'm actually screwed."

Vernon thinks for a minute. "You can't like... virtually attend the meeting?

"No."

"Or it can't be postponed?"

"Nope."

"What if I file you as a missing person to the police?"

"You're seriously no help, dude," You say, giving him a light shove to the shoulder, but it's hard to suppress the curve to your lips and the small chuckle that leaves your mouth when you see him fall back dramatically.

Vernon snorts lightly. "Well, it's probably better than showing up to work in your Hello Kitty underwear𑁋"

"You said you didn't look, you idiot!" You exclaim furiously, and Vernon literally does not see the way a pillow practically spawns in your grasp and flinging toward him before he can even react. The pillow hits him square in the chest, causing him to stumble backward with a surprised yelp. "Oh my god, just report me missing at this point."

Vernon just laughs as he catches his breath to stand back up, grabbing the pillow up the floor and lifting it up like a shield as if to defend himself from you. Your face is burning brighter than the lava lamp glowing on your bedside table.

"This is so embarrassing," You mutter sheepishly, wanting to unleash another defeated groan again. "I can't believe I'm this stupid to forget to..."

"You're cute."

"...and then I'm probably going to get fired𑁋what?"

Vernon tosses the pillow back onto your bed and clears his throat.

"I said you're really dumb."

That is not what he said.

For a second, the disastrous situation seems to lighten up just a little bit, and your heart is doing some intense, unrhythmic tap dance against your ribs. You heard exactly what he said𑁋that he called you cute in this ungodly predicament𑁋and now he's trying to brush it off?

Vernon cracks a teasing, boyish smile. "And stupid, yeah. You're not wrong about that."

You open your mouth to retort, but the words get caught in your throat, almost like a choked sound coming out instead. So you point an interrogative finger and step closer to him (and yes, still in your underwear), eyebrows furrowing together.

"You called me cute," You state, all firm and serious now.

Vernon's playful look falters slightly, expression shifting to something a bit more guarded now. He rubs a hand at the back of his neck, that nervous habit you've always found sort of endearing throughout time. Perhaps there's a bit more meaning to it now.

The few moments of silence that follow is absolutely suffocating. You can't even tell if time is passing by quicker or slower as the two of you stand there, shifting this uncomfortable weight between both of your feet.

"Yeah," Vernon says simply, quietly. "I did."

You nearly want to laugh for some reason, but you can feel the nerves tickle up your spine. "I'm standing here in fucking Hello Kitty underwear and you think I'm cute?"

You can visibly see the way the lump in his throat tightens as he swallows, his eyes flickering uncertainly between you and the floor.

"Look you just... You caught me off-guard. Like... laundry day doesn't mean walking around in your underwear and all that," Vernon explains, in a tone like he's trying to reason with you. "but for you, I'll make an exception because𑁋"

"𑁋because I'm cute?"

"Because you're so stupidly cute from freaking out when I could just go to the store right now and buy you a pair of pants to wear." Then he sucks in a breath. "And yeah, the Hello Kitty underwear is cute, I guess."

You feign a shocked, traitorous look to your face. "You guess?! It's Hello Kitty, man."

"Dude, do you want me to snatch you some pants to wear or not? Because I'm deadass about the missing persons report," Vernon asks, half-annoyed yet somewhat half-amused. The twitch to his lips doesn't go unnoticed. And the voice of him calling you cute just minutes earlier also doesn't go unheard of too.

You wear a cringy, exaggerated pout to your lips. "Please."

Vernon's face contorts in slight disgust at that. "Please don't do that eve𑁋I'm leaving." And before you can say anything, he's turning around and leaving your room.

You hear the clinking of keys, assuming that Vernon is getting ready to leave to presumably retrieve you a pair of pants to wear for the day. You step up to your doorway to peek into the living room.

"Hey, I owe you!" You holler out to him. "Let me know how much it costs and I'll pay you back."

"No need," Vernon calls back over his shoulder.

"Come on, I'll feel bad," You insist, leaning against the doorframe. "I'll do anything, I swear."

Now that seems to intrigue him, and you watch the way Vernon slowly turns back to you, and maybe you're starting to regret ever saying that to him.

"Okay," he says lightly. "We're watching a movie tonight."

"A movie? What are we..." Then your eyes widen in realisation. "We are not watching Shrek again. I'll end up falling asleep on you because we've rewatched too much."

Vernon just shrugs. "Yeah, like last time. You hugged me like your personal pillow, remember?"

"I..." You stop yourself from responding immediately, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks at the memory. "Fine, whatever. If I fall asleep again, you can just wake me up this time."

A low, thoughtful hum runs out of Vernon's mouth. "I mean, I really don't mind if you fall asleep, you know. If you're tired and stuff."

You blink up at him dazedly. "Really?"

"Yeah," he answers, and the corners of his lips lift up ever so slightly. "You're cute when you fall asleep on me, anyway."

another note: guys idk what i just wrote lol its like 90% dialogue n rushed HAHSADSA

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @tanya596carat @starshuas @totomoshi

[dumplingsfordays]

the phone call

pairing - Megumi x fem!reader

genre - smut

summary - you call Megumi one night in hopes of changing your relationship from being best friends to lovers and it ends very unexpectedly.

cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), mutual masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), bffs to lovers, reader has female genitalia, swearing, timeskip to all characters 18+, one (1) mention of voyeurism + hair pulling + tummy bulge

note - back (sorta?) from my hiatus but I won't post content as frequently. sorry to all you beautiful people who submitted asks 😭😭 I'll make sure to do those fics asap b/c y'all are honestly lovely and overall really respectful and I appreciate it! thank you sm for being patient w/ little old me <33

art credit!

and as always, thank you for reading :))

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Quiet sighs escaped Megumi's lips in tandem with the soft breeze outside, whistling against the glass windowpanes. Moonlight drifted across his fair cheek like a silvery veil, making his pale skin glow slightly, and his long eyelashes, a trait that wasn't his favorite but one that almost every girl constantly pointed out with jealousy, fluttered when they met the edge of the light. And then, in the peaceful summer night-

Bzzt. Bzzt.

The raven-haired man sat up in his bed with sudden urgency, hand moving quickly to his phone on the nightstand and picking up.

"Hey, 'Mimi," your sleepy, half-awake voice came from the speaker. "Sorry to bother you but it's kinda important."

Upon hearing your voice, he relaxes - he lays back down and stares at the blank, white ceiling. "Yeah?"

"Uhm, I just wanted to talk to you about something..."

God, your sleep-laced voice was so gentle, sweet, alluring, even. He couldn't help but sneak a hand towards his abdomen to lay it on his stomach.

"Hey, 'Mimi, you there?" You ask all of a sudden.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm listening, don't worry."

You must be at your desk working, then, he thought, since you're up this late. Wait, no -- he heard the shuffling of bedsheets or something similar a moment ago. That was you, right? Were you also in bed? Did you also have the ghost of a smile dancing on your lips? Was your hand also laid down on your abdomen? Was it slowly creeping further and further down, until-

He shakes his head, rousing himself from his thoughts.

God, Megumi, what the hell are you thinking? They're your best friend, nobody thinks about their best friend getting off!

...Well, something about that scene was... arousing, almost, to him. The mere thought of you, laying on silk bedsheets and rubbing your clit to his voice, sent a shiver up his spine and he snaked his hand under his boxers. Well, guess he was doing this.

"So, um..." you continued, sighing, "I was thinking. I know that it's probably too late into the night to even be discussing this, but..."

"Yeah?"

He lets out a small grunt afterwards as his fingers come into contact with the sensitive skin of the tip of his semi-erect length.

"...are you okay, 'Mimi? Are you working out or something?"

"Ah, no, I'm just..."

Just, you know, casually touching myself to the sound of your voice. Nothing wrong with that at all. There's definitely nothing wrong with jacking off to your best friend's voice.

"Just, um. Moving my, uh..." His eyes glance around the room and lock onto the bedside table. "My table."

There's a small lilt to your voice as you laugh softly and clear your throat before speaking, and Megumi swears that he just got lightheaded from the rush of blood to his nether region.

"Okay... I was just thinking about, well... this. Our friendship."

He tries not to sound too strained and breathy when he replies, starting to slowly move his fist up and down his leaking cock. "What about it?"

"Well, I think that, um.. you're a really nice person. And I really like you. And recently, I was thinking about what it would be like if we, um..."

You pause, biting your lip. Should you really finish your sentence? What if he takes it the wrong way?

"You can say it. I won't judge, y/n."

"Thank you..." you laugh briefly and breathlessly, fidgeting with the skin on your torso. His words were innocent, but it was the tone in which he was speaking that made your thighs twitch slightly and your mouth dry up. Christ, Megumi always made you feel things that you knew you shouldn't be feeling towards a friend who probably only liked you as one. "I, well... I was thinking that it would be nice if we hung out at some point. Maybe, like... go out on a date, or something... I understand if you don't like me in that way, or if you're too sleepy to decide yet, but I just wanted to put that out there..."

His eyes widen a bit as he hears the word "date", and he subconsciously tightens his grip around himself, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. So you were interested in him, too.

"I'd... I'd love to."

He forces down a quiet groan as he hears the pitch of your voice rise slightly in excitement. Unbeknownst to him, your hand slides down your lower abdomen, gliding across your upper thigh.

"R-really? You're not kidding or anything, right? I mean, like... please don't worry about making me feel good about myself or anything, just..."

You hear him laugh softly on the other end, which makes that spot between your legs throb even more intensely.

"Of course," Megumi replies, trying to sound as put-together as he can. "I won't lie to you about stuff like that."

Smiling, you sigh in relief and your hand comes into contact with your inner thigh. After a brief pause, he speaks up again, his voice a little deeper.

"So.. anything fun happen recently in your life? Any new books you've read, or interesting gossip you've heard?"

Your head tilts to the side as a scenario pops into your head at his words. Him, laying next to you, whispering into your ear as his fingers caress your--

"Nope..." you laugh, a little shakily due to the intrusive thought. "But there was this one thi--"

He makes a quiet noise of pleasure and you choke, your fingers finally touching your slick cunny and rubbing it gently.

"...M-Mimi, did you... are you...?"

"Christ, I'm sorry, I-- fuck. I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't-- God, I..." he sighs, regret clear in his tone as he apologizes. "You probably think I'm some creep or something now. Feel free to cancel the date, I don't deserve it anyway after all this."

You swallow and you feel your face redden in embarrassment before answering, whispering.

"Actually, I... I, um, I'm not mad. I-I'm doing the same."

"What?"

His reply is instantaneous, his voice a mix of nervousness, shock, surprise, with the undeniable tinge of arousal. You were going to be the death of him someday.

"I-I'm doing the same. I know it's weird, I..." you trail off, sighing. "I'm sorry too."

"Can we..."

Megumi's trembling all over now, his cock unfathomably hard and standing up at attention in his fist, which begins to pump up and down a little more rapidly. You can hear it very faintly from your phone and you practically gush at the sound.

"...can we, um... keep doing this? And talking? I just... I think that since you're interested in me and I in you, we can satisfy our urges, I guess..."

"Please," you shiver, voice getting softer and more desperate as he talks.

"Fu-uck..." he groans out, biting his lip and looking down at himself. He decides to finally remove his boxers and strokes himself under the blanket, leaning into his phone's microphone as he pants softly.

You, in your own bed, whimper at the expletive -- you knew his voice was attractive, but this? Him swearing, and in that rough yet pleading tone, too, made you unimaginably wet.

"Can you... can you describe it? Please?" you choke out, toes curling as your fingers press against your clit slightly.

You hear him groan at your words again before he replies.

"I-It's standing up real tall 'n warm, sweetheart... it's fucking throbbing, all for you... God, I just wanna bend you over and... shit... just shove my cock into your tight pussy..."

You moan quietly as you imagine the absolute filth of the scenario, how deep his thick cock'll reach inside you... he'll probably be thrusting into you so hard that people on the street will hear the rhythmic slaps of skin on skin from the window of your bedroom all the way up on the fifth floor. And, oh, God, what if he grabs your hair and pulls on it, twisting your back and pulling his face closer to yours to meet you in an intense kiss, teeth clacking and tongues intertwining in this passionate dance for control?

"You're gonna feel so good around me, baby... maybe clench as I play with your clit and press my hand to your stomach to feel that little dent of my cock... you're gonna feel so fucking warm and wet around me..." Megumi groans loudly as his hand does a particularly satisfying stroke around his length, smearing slightly sticky precum in his fist. "Christ, I can already imagine it... I'm so fucking close..."

"Me too," you cry out, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive skin and thighs quivering from the electrifying pleasure. "I'll feel so good, 'Mimi, so full..."

His fist travels up to his tip, continuing the up-and-down motion as he moans shakily. "y/n-- I-I'm gonna-- fuck, think I'm gonna come--"

You whimper in reply, toes curling and forearm flexing. At long last, that wave of heat crashes down on you both, him groaning shamelessly as thick cum spurts from the red tip and onto his fist, and you gasping for air, moaning as you reach your respective peaks. Your body trembles as you're thrown around mercilessly by your orgasm and he can tell very clearly by your voice -- it's high-pitched, desperate, and borderline wanton.

As you both calm down from your highs, the movements of your hands and arms gradually slowing down, you giggle breathlessly.

"This was... ah, certainly something..."

You hear his voice, deep and comforting as he chuckles, through your phone speaker.

"Indeed it was."

"...But we're still going on that date, right?"

Megumi laughs. "Obviously."

[astraystayyh]

The alternative

Brother's best friend changbin x reader. Fluff and slight angst. (Han is the brother).

Based on my interpretation of The Alternative by Lyn Lapid (if u can, play it after the •••)

You've diligently chased the idea of being with Changbin out of your mind. That is until he picks you up from a bad date, making your steadfast resolve unravel all around you.

skz song series masterlist

"Yn?" Changbin’s voice echoes clearly through the phone, and you startle, leaning away to check if you mistakenly dialed the wrong person. But there it is- Han's contact name illuminating your screen, confirming your intended call.

"Changbin? Where is Han?" you ask hesitantly, confused as to why your brother did not pick up his phone.

"He left his phone at home. I wasn't going to answer but I saw five missed calls from you, so I figured something might be wrong. Are you okay?" he asks, his voice softening at the last question.

His concern tugs at your heart, causing you to bite your lower lip forcefully. You've been sitting across from your date for the past two hours, and yet Changbin managed to pay more attention to you in the span of five seconds. 

"I'm okay, don't worry about it," you reassure, trying your best to sound composed.

"Did you need something?"

"I just... I'm on a date right now and I wanted Han to come pick me up. But it's okay."

"Did they do something to you?" he asks, his voice carrying an edge to it that hadn't been present moments ago.

"No!" you quickly reassure. "I just... I don't know, it feels off but it's okay. I'm sorry for bothering you." The practiced apology rolls off your tongue effortlessly, without you having to think about uttering it.

You're accustomed to shrinking yourself, trying your hardest not take up space with your feelings. It has become second nature to you to bury your problems in a dusty box at the back of your mind, as soon as they threaten to affect those around you.

"Where are you?" he asks as you hear shuffling from his end, "I'm coming to pick you up."

"You don't have to," you murmur, regret already welling up inside you. You should've stopped calling your brother when he didn't pick up the first time.

"You are uncomfortable. That's reason enough for me."

You attempt to contradict him, but the words dissolve in your mouth, swallowed back down your throat. There's something about Changbin's unwavering voice that makes you pause. You don't have the strength to contradict him.

"Okay, thank you," you exhale a ragged breath in relief. "I'll text you the address."

You hang up, leaving the bathroom you were hiding in and sitting in front of your date once again. They resume talking, but you tune them out, your thoughts solely revolving around Changbin- the way the planets rotate unwaveringly around the sun. His concern made a pleasing warmth seep through your heart, like a sun ray piercing through clouds after a gloomy day.

You dig your fingers into your palm, desperately trying to banish thoughts of him- just as you’ve been doing for the past few months.

You met Changbin before you knew he was your brother’s best friend. In the campus café, where he almost spilled his drink on you. You thought he was adorable, apologizing profusely to you, a faint pink hue tinting his cheeks. And then he bought you a cookie, three to be exact, because he didn’t know which flavor you’d prefer. A token of his remorse as he explained to you. He was a year older, and you found talking to him as natural as being with yourself.

But for some reason, your brain didn’t register that this was the Changbin your brother told you about. Until you’ve visited Han’s dorm for the first time and there he was, opening the door for you. Changbin was never yours to begin with, a reminder you continually admonish yourself with, but you still felt as if you lost him that day.

You knew it wouldn't be wrong, per se, to date him. But the potential confrontations that would unfold from it made you recoil into your hiding. Loving Changbin holds within it numerous uncertainties, and you cannot venture into the unknown, regardless of how much you yearn for it. For him.

“Yn!” a loud voice startles you, and you snap your head towards the entrance of the restaurant where you find Changbin. He’s clad in grey sweatpants and a snug black t-shirt, standing out like a sore thumb in the high-end restaurant. He didn't take the time to change, you realize, his sole focus on reaching you as quickly as possible.

"We have to go!" he says, as soon as he's in front of your table, and your date glances at you curiously.

"You do?" they ask and you chuckle nervously. "We do?" You didn’t think of an excuse as to why you needed to leave so suddenly, and you hoped Changbin did.

"Yes, come on," he urges, outstretching his hand toward you. "There is an emergency… You know, with Han, very urgent."

"Who's this? And who's Han?" 

"I already told you who Han is," you roll your eyes, grabbing Changbin’s hand and rising from your seat. "Maybe if you stopped talking about yourself for a second then you'd remember."

Changbin places a couple of bills on the table, a polite smile on his face. "For the dinner", he says, before pulling you outside with him.

"What was that?" you chuckle as soon as you're out. Changbin doesn't let go of your hand as you walk to his car, and you can't find it in you to drop it. 

"What?" he giggles, "did you not like my acting skills?"

"Did you have to shout my name from across the restaurant?" you playfully punch his shoulder and he feigns a wince.

"I had to be convincing," he nods solemnly, opening the door for you. His hand rests on the top of the car, ensuring you don't bump your head while getting in.

"Here," Changbin hands you a pair of slippers from the backseat, and you furrow your brows in confusion. "I assumed you'd be wearing heels and your feet are probably tired, so I brought you this," he explains, and you are suddenly thankful for the dim lighting in the car that's hiding your crimson blush. 

"So, tell me, what did they do? Do I need to beat them up?" Changbin asks once more and you groan, leaning your head against the car window. 

"They're so... pretentious. The only thing they care about is themselves, their career and their achievements. They even tried to downplay mine so they'd feel better about themselves."

"It's their loss honestly, for wasting a date with someone like you." 

"You're the only one who thinks so," you smile sadly, trailing your fingers across your knee. 

"What do you mean?" he asks, turning his body around to give you his undivided attention. 

"This is my fourth bad date in a row. I think I'm just destined for horrible relationships," you try to joke, but it did weigh heavily on you. Was there something wrong in you that prompted everyone to treat you so lowly?

"You are very smart and witty and interesting. I like talking to you, especially about things you are passionate about. It's their loss for not seeing it. Doesn't mean you are any less incredible," he says, his voice filled with genuine conviction.

A surge of emotion pulses through you, your heart beating wildly in your chest like a bird fluttering its wing to break free from its cage. You've always thought Changbin was all these things as well, but you never knew he held you with the same regard.

"Thank you," you beam at him, "for this and for coming to pick me up."

"Don’t mention it," he responds with a warm smile before sudden mischief dances in his eyes. "You know what? We should go on a date right now."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"A fake date," he clarifies and your heart chips a little more at your foolish hope. "So you'd see how well you deserve to be treated."

"You don't have to do that," you shake your head. 'You shouldn't do that', you wanted to add, 'it’s hard enough to forget about you'.

"I want to," he insists, his assurance evident in his smile. He leans in, reaching over to buckle your seatbelt, bringing his face mere inches from yours. His cologne envelops you, trapping you in a web carefully woven by him. It was unfair- for him to smell this nice and not be yours.

"You look pretty," he compliments, his penetrating gaze locked with yours as the seatbelt finally clicks into place.

"Is this how you start all your dates," you chuckle, in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

"No, I'm just saying the truth," he replies simply, starting the car and resting his hand on the back of your headrest.

"So, what are you craving?" he asks, and you sigh in defeat.

"Can we have fried chicken?" 

"Of course, we can," he replies with a smile, shifting the car into reverse and leaving the parking lot.

•••••••••••

You hoped your time with Changbin would be horrible, you wished you’d feel bored or uncomfortable, just so it’d cement the idea that he wasn’t the one for you. But unsurprisingly, you had an amazing time. Your stomach ached from laughing so hard throughout the night, and there was a new found lightness in your steps as you walked around a picturesque garden.

You knew that you will revisit this night countless times, that you’d sift through every detail- every time your eyes met and every time you made him smile. That it’d keep you warm on cold nights when you’re all alone.

"Here," Changbin says, handing you a plucked rose. "You deserve a bouquet but I didn’t plan on this, I’m sorry," he smiles sheepishly and you giggle, taking it out of his hands.

"Thank you," you grin happily, before taking a step forward toward him. There, you tuck the rose behind his ear, smoothing down his hair in the process.

"I’m blushing, aren’t I?" he chuckles, bringing a hand to his flushed cheeks and you gleefully nod.

"You’re matching the rose," you point out and he shrugs happily. "Pink is my color."

You admired how Changbin didn’t shy away from his emotions, embracing them without reservation. It made you feel secure, in the sense where you’d never have to second guess his words and their truthfulness.

Changbin takes out his phone to play a soft melody, before putting it in his back pocket.

"Let's dance."

"Changbin..." you trail off. It feels bittersweet to get a taste of what you could have, of what you two could be. He'll move on, surely, going on real dates while you'd still be stuck on the way he makes you feel.

"It's part of the date package, come on." 

You sigh, before grabbing his hand in yours. They fit so naturally together, and you think you can easily commit the sensation to memory- the coldness of his palm and the callouses on his finger pads. With a few more holds, you're certain you could recognize his touch among a thousand others.

Changbin raises your free hand and places it on his shoulder, before holding your waist gently, swaying you from left to right.

Being with him felt like pressing on a blueish bruise, a pleasurable pain you would willingly endure to have him by your side. You're already in his arms, you told yourself. Maybe you should tune out the thoughts in your head berating you, and finally follow what your heart wants.

You suck in a deep breath, before tentatively leaning your head on his chest. He immediately brings his hand to your hair, smoothing it down gently. His chest is broad, serving as a shield for the delicate emotions flowing within him. Because Changbin is gentle with everything he does and everyone he meets. And you'd settle for this, for being his fake date if it meant experiencing his gentleness for the rest of your life.

"Can I tell you something?" you say after a while.

"Sure."

"I think this is the nicest date I've ever been on. I wish all of them were like this."

"They could be if you want to."

"What do you mean?"

"I've always liked you, yn. From the moment I’ve met you,” he confesses easily, and his words feel like the hands of an expert violinist, tugging at your vulnerable heartstrings.

He likes you, you aren't alone in this feeling, and for a second, raw happiness courses through you at this thought. But it's fleeting, like the sugar rush you'd get when you eat too much sweets. And so it naturally wears off, as the consequences of his words dawn on you.

"Changbin, we shouldn't," you shake your head vehemently and he frowns. "Why?"

"Because you're my brother's best friend." The excuse streams from your mouth instantly.

"But I'm still Changbin. Your Changbin if you'll have me," he adds softly.

"Han will find it weird, and if we don't work out then your friendship with him will become strained and-"

"Why are you thinking about everyone but yourself?" He interrupts. "Don’t you want this?" 

A few silent beats pass by, and Changbin doesn't stop swaying you around, his gentle place lulling your heart to calmness, clearing the foggy thoughts in your mind.

"I do," you finally admit, and a smile lightens up his face instantly. It's so bright that it makes you second-guess the words you're about to say. "But I don't want to risk our friendship too." 

"Love is a risk, I understand, I agree. But what's the alternative, yn? if it's not having you at all then I'd risk it," he drops your waist, his hands cradling your face tenderly. "You are worth the risk to me." 

You’ve stopped dancing, the music long forgotten by you. "You really think so?"

"I know so." 

"What if we things don't workout?"

"What if they do, hm? we can never really know until we try. And i want to try with you. Please, give us a chance?" he smiles at you, his vulnerability on full display. He's offering you his heart on a silver platter, not caring if you'll safely guard it or pierce it through, as long as it's yours.

You gaze into his warm brown eyes, before glancing at his tousled hair and the rose tucked behind his ear. And your fear doesn't matter anymore, not in the face of the man in front of you.

"You have amazing convincing skills. Have you ever considered being a diplomat?" you tease and his eyes widen slightly. "Is this a yes? are you saying yes?"

"I am," you giggle, an uncontrollable smile drawn on your lips. "And... I've always liked you too. I think Han might've suspected it because whenever I brought you up, he glared at me," you confess with a laugh, as Changbin presses a soft kiss on your wrist. Right where your pulse is. Beating wildly for him. 

"He’ll have to deal with it. Now tell me, is tomorrow at 6 pm good for you?"

"What for?" you giggle, as he waltzes you around once more, a cheeky smile adorning his face.

"Our first real date, of course.”

[samandcolbyownme]

This was originally going to be just a Sam one shot, but then i decided to make it a Sam and Colby one shot. I felt like Sam's cover was too good to change, so enjoy the buy one get one free deal lol.

Summary: Reader drives herself insane trying to think of this mystery man she cannot stop thinking about and completely caught off guard when there's two of them.

Warnings: SMUT18+, vampire!Sam, demon!colby, compulsion and mind reading from both Sam and Colby, mentions of blood and blood drinking, strong language, mentions of alcohol, reading feeling like they're going insane, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, fingering, oral (m&f rec), threesome w/ dp, dirty and cute pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, filth

Word count: 10.3k | NOT edited

Not a request

Bold italics are Sam and Colby speaking in readers head.Regular italics are scenes they create in her head & reader being compelled at times.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Have you ever tried moving on from something that hasn't necessarily happened, but no matter how hard you tried, you just can't?

Your mind, constantly replaying stuff in your dreams, random times throughout the day.

Hitting you when you least expect it?

Then, when you finally think you've gotten over it, gotten rid of the haunting thoughts, it comes back, stronger than it was before?

That was you. Right now.

You had this feeling of anxiety, feeling like something was going to happen. It's happened multiple times a day, even causing you to wake up in the middle of the night, sometimes gasping for air.

But, you can never remember your dreams and nothing ever happens.

You could never describe the feeling.

Your friends would ask if you're okay because you looked 'tired' or you said no to doing something you always have said yes to.

They knew something was up, and so did you, but you just didn't know what was causing you to feel like this so it was always 'I didn't sleep well last night' or some other lame excuse that they could see right through.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Your friend, Cami asks, "You've been, not sleeping well, for the last week or so." She tilts her head, "What's really going on?"

You take a deep breath, "I honestly.." you pause, leaning forward to set your coffee mug down on the coffee table, "If I tell you, you have to promise not to call me crazy."

She nods, leaning back against the couch, "Okay."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, "So besides me not sleeping well, I'll get to that in a sec, but it started last week, after we came home from Tara's party."

"Did someone h-"

You cut her off, "No. no. It's not that."

She sighs, "Oh fuck, okay good." She motions, "Continue. Sorry."

You bat the air, "When I came home I felt like I was forgetting something, but I had everything I took with. I also felt.. I don't know, almost guilty for going and having a good time? Like, almost like I shouldn't have gone? I'd don't know."

She furrows her brows, "That doesn't make any senses. I mean, I just.." she stops, "it sounds like you're feeling emotions you'd feel when you're with someone and you did something you know they don't like."

You shrug, "I mean, yeah. It kind of does feel that way, but at the same time if I really think about it, it still doesn't make sense. I mean, maybe I think about it way too much, but-"

She cuts you off, "Are you talking to anyone? Maybe someone who is a potential boyfriend and you felt bad for going out?"

You look up at her, "That's where it gets crazy."

She gives you a weird look, "Huh?"

"I feel like- okay. You promised not to call me crazy, so just.. hear me out." You stare at her and she nods and you continue trying to explain, "I feel like.. I already belong to someone."

She makes a face and you hold your hand up, "I know. I know. I just, I can't. I can't explain it really. I mean, I keep seeing this person in my dreams and it almost feels like they're who I'm-"

You shake your head, "That sounds absolutely fucking insane. I take back what I said, you can call me crazy."  

You laugh, slightly embarrassed at what you just said.

This is the first time that you've actually talked about it out loud, and it sounds a lot crazier than you originally had thought.

"You're into reading books, right?" Cami asks and you nod, "Yeah, I'm actually reading one right now."

"What's it about?" She brings her legs up, moving the blanket to cover up. You purse your lips, "It's a darker romance book, so it's basically about a guy who comes at the most random times but he has a big secret and all that."

"What's he described as? Like what does he look like?" She brings her mug to her face and you shrug, "Um. I mean, like a normal looking guy. Slightly tall-ish. Blue eyes. At first he had brown hair, then he bleaches it to blonde, what does-"

"Who's the guy you see in your dreams?"

You stare at her, "Oh shit."

She chuckles, "I don't know about you, and now when I say this, I speak from experience because I'm sure we've all have done it, but it sounds like you're experiencing fictophilia."

"What the hell is that?" You laugh slightly at the last word she said, "fictophilia?"

She nods, "Yeah, it's where people, real people like us, fall in love with fictional characters in a book."

"Can it be as strong as taking over how you feel?" You ask, tilting your head, "Because when I tell you, I could have puked from feeling guilty that night, I was-" you hold up your thump and pointed, an inch from each other, "-This close."

She shakes her head, "No, I don't think it can cause that. I think you just drank a little, too much." She smirks, "Those back to back shots definitely had something to do with it."

You sigh, closing your eyes as you nod, "Yeah, yeah no. You're probably right. I'm just definitely over thinking about it."

"And the not getting sleep will definitely play a part in that. You need to take a nap. A real nap." She smirks, "and stop being delusional."

You roll your eyes, smirking as you nod, "Yeah, yeah. I know. But these fictional men, Cami. They'll getcha."

She nods as she stands up, "No I know. I watched a movie the other day and thought about the one character for three days straight."

"See. My point exactly." She laugh as you walk her over to the door. She turns, "I don't think you're crazy. Fictional characters happen to us all."

She leans in for a hug, "But if it gets to the point to where you tell me you're dating someone who isn't real, I'm funny farming your ass."

You laugh, leaning back as you look at her, "I won't put up a fight."

You close the door after she walks out, turning around to look at your empty apartment. You flick the lock before you walk over to the couch, sitting down to switch on the tv.

You put on the show you were watching and you can't help but think about your conversation with Cami.

It felt like so much more than what you told her.

It felt too real, but you really didn't want her to think you were losing it. That you were crazy.

But you felt it.

After multiple days of trying to figure out who the guy in your dreams is and not having any clue whatsoever is maddening.

Constantly telling yourself, I'm going crazy, each time you try hard to remember his face and about lose it because you can't.

You have a feeling that he wasn't just the guy in the book.

He was so much more than that, to you, in your head at least.

But, little did you know, that he was a creature who had such a pretty face, a dark, dark soul - along with his friend.

You shake your head, laying down and getting comfortable on the couch so you can try and take a well needed nap.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You reach over the counter, smiling at the barista, "Thank you." She nods, moving on to hand out the next coffee.

You walk away, heading towards the door. You go to push it open but stumble out when someone on the outside opens it before you.

"Oh, shit." The guy lays an arm in front of you, stopping your stumble. You stand up straight, looking up at the blonde.

He smiles slightly, "Are you okay? I'm sorry. I didn't see you coming out."

You nod, laughing slightly, "Y-yeah. Yeah I'm okay. Thank you for opening the door for me." You smile at him and he shrugs, "Call it fate."

A loud thump causes you to jump awake. You sit up, slowly turning to look back over the couch. You blink a few times, trying to get your vision used to the darkness of your apartment.

You call out slight groggy, "Hello?"

No answer.

Your phone ringing causes you to jump and you let out a sigh as you look at it. You debated on not answering, mainly because you seen the movies.

You know how it goes.

But it was cami, so you answer, "Hello?"

"Hey, a bunch of us are going out tonight. Wanna join?" She asks, "We're going to bar hop." You bite your lip, quickly turning around when you feel a presence off to your left, "Uh, yeah. Yeah."

"You'll come?" She asks, excitement seeping from her words, "Great. We can all just meet up in the parking lot of your place and we can walk to Bar Eight."

"That's fine with me. I need a shower, I just woke up from a nap." You stretch your arm above your head, "you can come over whenever. I'll be here."

"I have to finish getting ready, too but I'll be over within the hour."

"Okay." You nod to yourself, "See ya." You pull the phone away from your ear and stand up. You walk over to the lamp, switching it on and from the corner of your eye, you can see a figure disappear.

"Oh fucking hell." You rub your eyes and sigh. You mentally tell yourself that it's the sleep deprivation or that you just need to distract yourself.

Maybe having people stay over after a night out will help.

You walk to the bathroom, switching the shower on and it quickly fills with steam. You undress, stepping in and sighing as the hot water washes over your body.

It feels like hands slid over your shoulders and you zone out.

You're walking down the street with Cami, having a small conversation. You're oblivious to the people walking towards you on the left side of the side walk.

Someone runs into your shoulder, knocking your purse off. It falls to the ground and some of your things spill out.

As you bend down, what you assume, is the guy who bumped into you, bends down to help you.

"Here. Let me help."

You look up, tucking hair behind your one ear as your eyes meet a guy with dark hair and blue eyes, "Oh, um. Thank you."

He nods, handing you the strap of your bag, "No need, I should watch where I'm going more often."

You laugh slightly, "Yeah, that probably wouldn't be a bad idea." He stands up and holds his hand out. You felt oddly trusting of him, so you take his hand to stand up.

"I'm Colby." He smiles and you nod, "I'm y/n."

You turn around quickly, wiping the water from your face as you only remember the hands on your shoulders, "what the fuck!"

You pull the shower curtain back, peaking out as if that was the smartest thing to do, "Go away."

Nothing in response.

You lean back into the shower and fix the curtain before doing your routine. As you're rising the conditioner out of your hair, you feel like there's eyes on you.

Like someone is watching.

You finish up, quicker than you thought, and step out.

You tilt your head at the neatly folded towel on the corner of the counter and stare at it, "Did I do that?"

You think hard but can't remember.

You grab it, snapping it open so you can wrap up your hair and put the other one around your body. You open the bathroom door, and nothing else seems out of ordinary as you step out.

You turn, walking into your room and going to your closet. You shift through the hangers, finding a cute top and a pair of ripped jeans.

You toss the towel down, quickly getting dressed before taking your hair down.

A very faint, she's so pretty, causes you to snap your head towards the door, "Cami?" You slowly scrunch your hair in the towel and shake your head, it's just the tv.

After a while, there's a knock on your door and you get up to go open it, "Hey guys. Come in." You smile as Cami and your other friends walk in, greeting you with smiles.

"I just need to grab my bag then I'm ready." You walk into your room, grabbing your purse and turning to walk out when you suddenly stop.

You don't know why you stop, but you just do.

Your mind goes blank for a second and then suddenly you're walking back out to your friends like nothing just happened, "Okay. I'm ready."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"So do you come here often?"

You try not to roll your eyes at the cringey, overused pickup line, "I mean.. kind of?" You laugh slightly and sip your drink, "I only live a few minutes away."

Why would you say that? You don't know him.

Your brows furrow, "That was weird."

"What was weird?" The guy still standing infront of you asks, making you realize that you now just thought out loud, "Um, nothing. Nothing sorry. Continue."

"No." He laughs, "I like weird shit, tell me."

You sigh, smirking slightly, "Do you ever.. how do I say this." He shrugs with a smile, "Just say it."

"Do you ever feel like there's someone in your head but it's not you?" The words roll off your tongue and you instantly regret it, "Wait. No. That sounds awful."

He shakes his head, "No I know exactly what you mean."

No he doesn't.

You close your eyes, "Almost like it's someone trying to talk to you, but it's just.." you laugh, "Confusing. Weird. I don't know."

The guy nods, "I'm so glad someone else thinks the same as me."

You smile and that feeling hits again. Like you shouldn't be there. Like you're about to be sick, which can't be from the alcohol, you've only had three so far and they weren't your usual double shots.

"If you'll excuse me I need to g-" you walk away, leaving your drink at the bar. As you're walking towards the bathroom, someone steps back from the bar, too quickly for you to dodge them.

You run right into them and sigh, "Excuse you."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

You look up and a blonde guy is standing there. Something about him causes your curiosity to spike, "No.. it's fine. I was just-" you shake your head, "I'm sorry, is this is weird, but do I know you?"

He shrugs, "My name's Sam."

"Sam. Sam. Sam." You repeat to yourself a few times quietly, "No, sorry. I don't think I know a Sam."

"Hmm. Well maybe we can call it fate that you just happened to run into me like you did." He smirks and for some reason, his words cause you to straight up your posture, "first off, you weren't paying attention."

You smirk and tilt your head, "Second off, I swear we've had a conversation before. I just-"

"Can't think of it right now? That happens to me all the freaking time." He chuckles as he sips his drink, "Are you drinking?"

"I mean, I was. I left mine back there with a guy, I was on my way to the bathroom."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, are you with someone?" Sam asks and you shake your head, wanting to say yes because it really feels like it, but in reality, you're not.

"No, no. My friend just left me there and he appeared and yeah. Nothing serious, I don't even know his name."

Why are you defending yourself to someone you don't know, you think, "I'm y/n. I guess I should have told you that when you told me yours."

He smiles, "Pretty name, y/n." He motions to the bar, "Can I buy you a new one?" You smile, "I think I'd like that a lot, Sam."

You step up to the bar with him and Sam flags down the one bartender, "Whatever she wants. It can go on my tab, Golbach."

As you look up at him, you get this odd feeling of déjà vu.

"What?" He asks with a smirk and you shake your head, "You just.. remind me of someone I can't really remember."

"What?" He laughs, "Sorry, I don't mean to laugh I just-"

"No, no please laugh. I'm so awkward." You cover your face with one hand and he shakes his head, "I'm sorry." He moves your hand from your face, "I think you're beautiful."

You feel your cheeks heat up and he bites his lower lip, "Can I ask you a question?"

You nod, "Yes."

He leans in, eyes focusing onto yours, "You will answer yes to my question and not question anything else. Can you follow me to the bathroom so I can have a taste of you?"

You smile, "Yes."

"That was easy." He downs the rest of his drink and slides his hand down into yours, "Follow me, princess."

You leave your drink, mind only focusing on one thing right now and you absolutely were not questioning it.

He leads you to the back, pushing the door to the bathroom open and lets you walk in first. He follows behind you, shutting the door and locking it.

He stares at you for a few seconds, the only thing he's focused on right now is listening to your blood flow through your veins.

"You're going to taste so fucking good." He moves in front of you within a second, hands on your hips which guide you back to sit you on the sink's edge.

His eyes focus on yours again, "Don't make a sound."

All you do is nod, moving your eyes from him to the wall behind him as he dips his head down to press his lips to the side of your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed as he gently sucks a spot into your neck, tongue moving over your skin before lifting his head ever so slightly.

His grip tightens on your waist as his fangs emerge, eager to be sunk into your delicate skin.

"Ready?" Sam whispers and you nod silently. He smirks and your eyes go wide, hands sliding up and gripping the collar of his shirt as his teeth sink into your skin.

His groan is muffled by your neck and his hands pull you in closer to him.

Your hand lays on the back of his head, mouth parted in completely silence as your eyes flutter closed.

The feelings you get is pain mixed with the upmost euphoric pleasure.

As you open your eyes, you see a man leaning up against the wall, watching. You can't tell who he is, as your vision is kind of hazy.

Sam lifts his head a little, "Go away Colby."

The guy, who you presume as Colby now, chuckles, "Come on, who says you can have all the fun?" Sam stands up, licking his now red lips. He lifts a finger, wiping away the blood drop that's rolling down his chin from the corner of his mouth.

"You can have your fun later. This was my idea, so I get first dibs, remember?" Sam glances back at him and he walks up next to him, eyes on you, "She is so fucking beautiful."

"Ain't she?" Sam grips your chin, "You can talk now, but you're still not questioning anything."

You clear your throat, swallowing to relieve it from the dryness and Colby sighs, "Clean her blood up, Sam."

"Why?" Sam teases, "Smells good doesn't it?"

Colby shakes his head, "You know I don't have control like you do." Sam sighs, rolling his eyes as he wipes the blood from your neck with his thumb, "Scaredy cat."

He smears some of his blood on the open wounds, getting them to heal faster so he can cover his tracks before he brings his thumb to his lips.

You watch as he licks the red liquid from his skin, "Mm." He leans back slightly before leaning back in, his voice going quieter, "So fucking good."

He presses his lips to yours and the metallic taste of your own blood washes over your tongue.

"Alright. You gotta get her back to her friends, they're ready to go to another bar." Colby moves back, leaning against the wall and Sam nods, "Do you have any questions for me, sweetheart?"

You smile slightly, reaching out to grab his shirt with your hands, "You're coming with me."

He raises a brow, "Is that a demand?"

"Only if you want it to be." You bite your lip, staring up at him as you continue to smile at him. He sighs, "I'll find you, babe. I promise."

You nod, sliding down from the sink, "You better." As you go to walk towards the door, Colby clears his throat, "Sam."

Sam sighs, "Shit, right." Sam quickly moves between you and the door, "I promise I'll undo all of this later, but for right now.." he cups your cheeks with his hands, looking into your eyes, "Forget about what happened and what you saw. You're going to tell your friends that you used the bathroom and only remember me as Sam Golbach. A regular guy from the bar down the street."

Within a blink of an eye, they're both gone and you're left standing alone in the bathroom, "Guess I'm done here."

You walk out and your friends are standing in a group by the door, "There she is. We thought you left." Cami says reaching out to grab your hand.

"No, I was just using the bathroom." You smile, "Are we going to another bar?"

Cami nods, "We're going to go hang out at Electric Avenue." You groan, "Oh my god, I love that place."

She laughs, "Then what are we waiting for?" She wraps her arm around yours and as you leave Bar Eight, you can't help but feel like you're forgetting something.

Something that happened, but you can't quite put your finger on it. That sick feeling returns, but this time it comes with heartache.

Even though you're with your friends, you feel extra lonely right now. In this moment you just want to go home, curl up in bed and cry because you're missing something so bad right now, but if anyone were to ask, you can't give them an answer that sounds sane enough for them to not laugh or think you're not crazy.

Because let's face it, the fact that you're obsessing over someone or something that you have zero knowledge about, is pretty insane.

"ID's please." The bouncer says as you walk up. You dig into your purse and pull out your wallet, slipping your id from its holder.

He checks it over, handing it back to you to move onto Cami. You wait for her by the door and when she walks through, you link your arm with hers, pretending that you're not ready to run home.

"Shots. Please!" She yells over the music and you sigh, "I'll do one, maybe two."

"We'll see." She giggles as she pulls you with her to the bar and rests her arms on the tall counter.

"Well hello ladies." The bartender walks up, "I'm Blake, anything you need I'll be happy to serve it to you."

Cami giggles, "Thank you, Blake. I think.. to start off, we'll do-" she pauses for a second, "Six teq-"

"No." You say quickly and she sighs, "Fine. Six vodka shots."

Blake smirks, "You got it." He winks at you before walking away and Cami leans in, "He is so hot." You shrug, "He's alright."

"Alright? Are we seeing the same guy? Y/n. He's into you!" She nudges your side with her elbow, "Get his number."

If he, as so little as it may seem, gets your number, I will snap his neck in front of everyone.

"No." You snap at Cami, "I'm not giving him my number. And you aren't either."

She scoffs, "Is this about the little crush you have on that character in your book because if so-"

"Cami." You roll your eyes, "no it's not about that okay." She turns towards you, leaning against the bar, "Then what's it about? Hmm."

You sigh and right as you're about to give her some bullshit answer, a guy comes up beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, "It's about me."

You look up and your mood instantly switches, "Sam! There you are."

"Here I am." He smiles as he looks down at you, "I told ya I'd meet you here."

Cami shakes her head, "Wait." She points to Sam, "Who is this and when did you meet him?"

"Cami, this is Sam Golbach. A regular guy from the bar down the street." The words seem scripted to you, but you didn't really pay attention to that.

You felt safe. Complete. Almost like this is the meaning to your obsessing and empty fantasies.

"Why didn't you tell me? I thought you were talking to that other guy?" Cami tilts her head and you scoff, "You make it sound like I'm a whore, Cami."

She laughs, "Oh god, no. No, I didn't mean it-"

"It's fine." You laugh, "He knows about the other guy I was talking to. It just.. didn't work out."

Blake comes back and delivers the six shots on the tray. His eyes move to Sam, staying on him as he speaks, "Six vodka shots."

He walks away and Sam can't help but laugh, "I don't think he likes me."

"Well maybe it's because he was eyeing up your girl before you showed up." Cami grabs a shot and looks around for the others.

She waves them down, motioning for them to come over and they do. Singing along and dancing mildly to the music that's bumping through the club.

"Heyyy. Who's this?" Your other friend asks pointing to Sam. He leans forward, "I'm Sam."

"Sam. Sam. Sam." She laughs, clearly reaching her alcohol limit, and fast, "You gonna stick around?"

Sam nods, "I mean, yeah. I planned on it. At least until one of us-" he nods towards you, "- is ready to leave."

Your friend laughs, "No, no. I meant sticking around as in dating my girl here." Sam's brows raise and he nods, "I mean, yeah. Yeah. I plan on it, I mean. That's if she wants me to."

Your arm tightens around his waist and he smiles, "I think that's a yes." You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. As you're standing there, waiting for the shots to be distributed, you spot another oddly familiar face.

"Who's that guy over there?" You ask pointing across the bar. Sam leans down, "Which one, sweetheart?" You lean over slightly, "The guy next to the girl in the pink top."

"Oh that's Colby." Sam turns his head to look into your eyes, "You recognize him from back at the bar, he's a good friend of mine." Sam looks at you and you nod, "Oh okay. Yeah that makes sense. Maybe I do remember him."

Sam smiles and kisses your temple. He closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, remembering what your blood tasted like on his tongue.

His hand grips your hip tight, loosening as he takes a shot glass from Cami, "Thank you."

You take yours and wait for Cami to tap hers against the bar. Everyone follows, tapping each glass against the wood before knocking them back.

Everyone cheers, pulling each other onto the dance floor. Sam takes your hand into his, pull you with him before spinning you around to press his chest against your back.

His hands slide down, gripping your waist as you move to the beat of the song. Your head rests back onto his shoulder and he rests his cheek against yours.

Your arm slides up, wrapping around his neck and you spin around to face him, your other arm moving up to interlock your hands behind his head.

"You're so beautiful." Sam says which causes you to smile. He brushes hair from your neck, subtly inspecting the now healed bite mark. He lick his lips, tilting his head as his eyes meet yours again.

"Does your friend need a dancing partner? I can send Cami over to talk to him?" You tilt your head and Sam chuckles, "Nah, I think he'll be alright."

"Girlfriend?" You ask and Sam shakes his head, "No."

"Oh, is he gay? My friend Curtis ca-."

Sam laughs, "No, no. He's not. He just.." he brushes hair from your face, "He has his eye on someone very special already."

"Good for him." You smile, pulling Sam closer. Sam nods, "Yeah, it really will be good for him." He leans in, lips connecting with yours and its sparks.

Bright sparks, hell. Those are fireworks.

"I don't want to leave you." You admit, "Sorry if that w-"

"I don't want to leave you, either." Sam cuts you off, lips connecting right back with yours. You lay your hand on the back of his back, sliding the other one down his chest and pushing away from him, "They're all coming back to my place, so I hope that doesn't change anything."

Sam shakes his head, "doesn't change a thing, baby."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You giggle slightly to yourself as you dig for your keys, "I hope I grabbed them."

"I'm sure they're in there." Sam says giving you a smile. Cami pushes between the two of you, "Do you have them?"

Sam glances at her and back to you, "She's looking for them."

You look up at her, "Can you move your head, you're blocking the light." You try not to laugh but fail, causing her to laugh which spreads throughout everyone else.

Sam shakes his head and you pull out your keys, jingling them as you look back, "Found them."

They all cheer and you unlock the door, pushing it open before you drag Sam in with you.

You set your bag and keys on the counter before turning to face Sam, "Do you need a drink or anything?"

He licks his lips, brushing hair from your neck, "I do, but I'll get it then."

"I can get it fo-"

He cuts you off, "I'm fine, sweetheart." He smiles, "Come on, let's go sit." He takes your hand into yours and pulls you towards the couch.

You sit on his lap, looking back at Cami and your other friends who are raiding your fridge. She gives you a look and nods towards your room.

She walks over stopping at the door way, "Y/n, can you come help me unzip my dress."

You look back at her, "Oh yeah." You get up, sliding your hand along Sam's shoulders as you walk around the couch.

Cami pulls you into your room and shuts the door, her voice is quiet, "Don't you think.. Sam is.." she trails off and you tilt your head, "Sam is? What, Cami?"

She waves her hands in a circle, "I don't know, he seems a bit.. controlling."

You laugh slightly, "What do you mean?"

"The way he just pulled you over to the couch, I mean you were just trying to offer him a drink." She shrugs, "I don't know, it just.. you just met him, we just met him, and he's already back at your place?"

"I don't understand what you're saying? You do this all the time, cami." You cross your arms, "Do you want me to kick him out?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all, y/n. I'm just saying that I get a really weird vibe from him, he just.. he seems cold." She shrugs, sighing as she turns around, "Can you unzip me quick, though please?"

You roll your eyes, reaching up to quickly unzip the dress, "I know you're just trying to look out for me, but something about him just feels.. right."

She turns around, leaning down to grab her bag, "ultimately it's your choice at the end of the day, but I'm just saying be careful. I just didn't like the way he drug you over to the couch."

"I think you're being a little dramatic." You laugh, "Now change, and come out so we can watch a movie."

You walk over to your door, opening it to walk back over to the couch. Sam greets you with open arms as you sit back down on his lap, "Everything okay?"

You nod, "Yeah, her zipper was just stuck in some loose string from her dress."

You didn't have to lie, Sam already heard everything.

"Dress okay?" He asks and you nod. He plants a kiss to your cheek, "Good."

Cami walks back out, coming over to sit next to you, "So, what movie are we watching?"

"Something funny. Oh!" Cami snaps, "Why don't we watch Vampires Suck? Have you seen it?"

"Isn't that the movie that's based off of Twilight? Doesn't actually suck?" One of your friends say, and Cami nods with a smirk as she leans forward to grab the remote, "Yes, it is, and it's supposed to suck on purpose. That's the whole point."

Sam chuckles shaking his head, the thought of watching a bad vampire movie was so cliche to him.

Cami turns his head, leaning out to look at him, "Is that alright with you?"

He looks at Cami and nods, "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Cami." You sigh, "Just play the stupid movie." She sighs quietly and presses play, tossing the remote down next to her.

A little bit into the movie, you lean in to Sam, "I'll be right back, I have to go to the bathroom." He nods, giving you a smile as you get up.

You walk to the bathroom closing the door and as you look at yourself in the mirror, your mind shifts from Sam and you zone out.

"You're just.." Colby smiles, brushing hair from your face, "So pretty."

You smile, a blush rising onto your cheeks, "Thank you, Colby." He leans in, "I've honestly never come across anyone as pretty as you."

"Okay, now you're just saying stuff." You laugh and he shakes his head, "No, I'm not. I'm being serious. I've seen hundreds of faces, and yours is my favorite one of all."

You look away, laughing slyly, "Colby."

He grips your chin, turning your head back to face him, "I'm being so serious right now. I'd risk fighting Lucifer himself to be with you."

"Lucifer?" You question and Sam's voice pops up, "Colby. That's enough. Knock it off."

You look around, unable to spot Sam..

Your eyes focus on your figure in the mirror, blinking a few times before you continue to do what you went in there for.

You open the door, flicking the lights off as you walk out.

"Hey I think I'm going to head out." You look up at your friend as you sit down next to Sam and Cami, "Are you good to drive?"

They nod, "Oh yeah, I feel fine. I'll text you when I get home."

"Okay. Be careful." You smile and they nod as they walk out.

A little bit later, two more friends leave, then another one, leaving you with just Sam and Cami.

"Is it just me, or were they acting kind of weird?" You look between them and Sam shrugs, "I know they were getting tired, probably didn't want to have to sleep on the floor." He teases them reassures you, "I think they were good."

Cami yawns and stretches as she leans forward, "Yeah, I think I'm going to head home. I forgot I had an appointment early in the morning."

"But it's Saturday?" You question and she shrugs, "Yeah. There's one that has certain hours."

"Oh." You nod, "Okay." Your eyes follow her as she gets up, walking over to grab her back, "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you!"

"Yeah, okay. Love you, too." You watch her shut the door and then you slowly look over at Sam, "That was so weird."

"Maybe they just settled down, got tired from the alcohol?" Sam suggests and you shrug, "I mean, yeah. You're right." You laugh, "Sorry I'm just-"

There's another thump, almost like the same one at earlier on in the day.

"That happened earlier." You look back, "Hello?"

"Maybe it's your neighbors?" Sam stands up, "I'll go check, maybe someone else did leave."

You nod, turning around to watch as he walks back to check the rooms. He comes out of your room and shakes his head, "No one's here."

You nod, continuing to watch as he then gets this annoyed look on his face and he sighs, "Fine."

"Sam?" You slowly get up, "Who are you talking to?"

"No one, I just-" he laughs, "I have something to tell you."

Your heart starts racing and you feel like your chest gets heavy, "Oh god." Your mind starts racing through every single idea that could potentially happen.

He had a plan this whole time. Gain your trust, get your alone, murder you.

He chuckles, "Relax, sweetheart. I'm not going to murder you."

Your head snaps towards him and you point, "H-how did you-"

"I can read your mind."

His words catch you off guard, "Y0u ju- you can r-" he pause, closing your eyes as you rest your forehead in your hand, "What the fuck is hap-"

You look up, gasping when Sam is right in front of you, "Shit." You go to step back but Sam grabs your wrist.

As scared as you want to be, when he touches you, it's like all your fear washes away and you want to do anything in your power to keep him with you.

"Listen to me." Sam's voice is soft, "I have to tell you something, but I need you to not freak out." He looks into your eyes, "Okay?"

You nod your head, "Y-yeah. I guess I can try."

"Come." He motions towards the couch, "Have a seat."

You walk over, sitting down. You turn your body towards him and rest your hands in your lap. Sam leans back, casually extending his arm over the back, "I made your friends go home."

"Huh?" You tilt your head, "What do you mean you made them leave?"

He shrugs, "Because we were getting impatient and they were just being massive cockblocks."

You sit in silence as you try to process his words, "We?"

Sam nods, "Yeah, remember Colby from the bar?" You nod slowly, "um, yeah. Yes." Sam nods, "Well he's here, too."

You whip around, looking for him, but you don't see him, "Where?" You turn back around, heart racing faster, "Why is he here, too?"

Sam stares at your chest, biting his lip as he pushes the thirst for your blood out of his mind, "You can't see him, he's hiding himself."

"Hiding himself?" You run your hand through your hair, breathing out a quiet, "Fuck."

After a moment of silence, Sam speaks up, "Do you want to know what happened at the bar?"

"I know what happened at the bar. I met you, we talked had a drink, I went to the bathroom then came out and walked with my friends down the street to another club." You look at him and he smirks, "No, sweetheart. Do you want to know what really happened?"

"What really happened?" You question and Sam leans forward, looking into your eyes, "When you remember, you won't make a big deal about it."

You nod and Sam tilts his head, eyes still on yours, "Remember."

You freeze as your mind plays what actually happened at Bar Eight.

Sam compelling you to say yes to his question. Following Sam to the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the sink and being told not to make a sound.

His teeth sinking into your neck and you can almost feel the pleasured pain he caused you as he sucked your blood from your neck.

Colby emerging from behind Sam as your vision goes hazy.

Everything flows if, filling the cracks with missing information and you're left speechless.

You blink, your eyes moving to look at Sam. The only words you can form leave you more shocked as they leave your lips, "Y-you're.. a vampire?"

Sam smiles, nodding his head as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "Correct."

"And Colby?" You raise your brows and Sam tilts his head, "He's a demon."

"A de-" you shake your head, "No. I'm dreaming I can't- this can't be real." You stand up, placing one hand on your forehead and the other on your hip, "I'm having a really, really weird dream."

"Hate to break it to ya, babe." Colby's voice startles you as he walks around from behind you. You jump, stepping back as you look at him. He holds his hand out, "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya."

He chuckles, "But you're not dreaming. You're awake, and we're here."

You slide your hand down, resting your fingers over your lips and your mind starts racking up questions.

"Yes, we're why you felt guilty after going to Tara's party." Colby nods, "And why you felt so obsessed over, well.. nothing really."

"It wasn't really nothing, y/n. We made it so you were, what? Colby. I don't even know what you'd call it." Sam looks to Colby and Colby purses his lips, "Mm."

He snaps his fingers and looks to you, "Love sick."

"We made you love us, without even knowing us. That's why you felt so comfortable with me at the bar, we'd basically manipulate your dreams so you'd know who we were, but someone.." Sam trails off, glaring at Colby before looking back to you, "Thought it would be best if we made it so you couldn't remember when you woke up."

You can feel your legs shaking below you, "And the making me do things? What.. what's that?"

"Oh the compulsion?" Sam nods, "Yeah, that's my favorite thing about being a vampire." He laughs, "I can make anyone do anything I wanted."

"So you.. compelled me.. to.." you point to your neck and he nods, "Yes."

"Why?" You stare at him and he shrugs, "Come on, if a stranger came up to you and said follow me to the bathroom, I want to bite your neck and drink your blood, would you have honestly, willingly gone with?"

"I mean, no but- wait." You point to Colby, "You don't like my blood?"

He sighs, "Ah, yeah. That."

"He could rip you apart if he really wanted to." Sam laughs and Colby rolls his eyes, "So could you, Sam."

Sam nod, leaning back to bring one of his legs up to least on his other one, "That's true. I could tear you apart if I wanted."

Sam is in front of you within the blink of an eye and you lean back slightly. His arm snakes around your wait, hand planting on the small of your back, "But I think you are just.. the sweetest thing."

There is absolutely no fear in your body, and they both know it.

"Why me?" You ask, your breathing growing faster as Sam slides his other hand up your arm to push your hair out of the way, "Why not you?"

His fingers run over the spot he had previously drank from before, "You have such a pretty face, on a pretty neck. You drive me crazy."

He leans in, lips gently pressing against your skin before tilting his head up, "Tell me you don't want me right now. Tell me you don't want us.. right now."

"I-I." You gasp as you feel Colby appear behind you, his hands sliding onto your waist. You bite down on your lip, "Are you going to hurt me?"

"Not unless you want us to, baby." Colby chuckles, "We're here to pleasure you. Make you feel things you've never even thought of feeling."

Colby presses his chest against your back and Sam tilts his head, "We don't take orders from anyone.." his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, "But you."

A rush of excitement washes over you and they both chuckle, "she's excited." Colby whispers, "I can feel it."

"This is so fucking weird." You laugh, still slightly in shock, "Oh my god."

"What do you say, sweetheart." Sam looks into your eyes, "Will you let us be your sickening desire?"

Your lips part open as Colby's lips attach to your neck, sucking a mark into your neck.

You had to admit, the devils voice is so sweet to hear.

Along with them being pretty cute for being, what others would consider monsters.

"You think we're cute?" Sam teases and you sigh, "My thoughts aren't safe anymore are they?"

Sam shakes his head, "Not at all, babe."

"You share them with us now." Colby whispers, "So are you going to answer Sam's question. Are you going to let us show you what an exhilarating ride it is to dance with the devil?"

After taking a moment to think, your eyes meet Sam's and you nod, "Take me."

"As you wish." He lifts you up, walking over to the couch, "But before we start. Can I have that drink now?"

"So that's what you meant?" You bite your lip and he nods, "Uh huh. Exactly." He looks over at Colby and when you look over at him, he's gone.

Sam turns your chin back towards him, "He's not too far off." He winks and slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer to him as he leans up, mouth close to your neck.

Your hands grip the collar of his shirt, preparing for the initial piercing of your skin.

"Tell me when. You call the shots." Sam whispers and you nod, "Go."

You let out a whine, tilting your head to the side as his fangs sink into your neck.

Your fists tighten with his collar still balled up in them, and a moan slips through. Sam wraps tightens his arm around your waist, groaning against your neck.

The euphoric feelings rushes in, causing your arousal to spike.

You need him, and you needed him bad.

Your mind dances off onto the topic of Colby, thinking about how good he looks in the black leather jacket.

How his dark demeanor intimidates you, but also turns you on more than anything.

"Fucking hell, babe. You taste fucking good." Sam leans back, fangs still out as his licks the blood from his lips.

Your eyes gaze over his face as you slide a hand up, wiping away a bead of blood that's getting ready to drip. You drag your finger up his chin, slowly placing it in his mouth and you gasp when his lips wrap around it, sucking your flood off your finger.

"I know I should be scared but.." you bite your lip, pulling your finger from his lips, "I'm not."

"We don't want you to be scared." Sam whispers, "We love you."

Without any hesitation, "I love you both."

"That's the way we want it." He smirks, looking over your shoulder, "You good, Colbs?"

"Oh yeah." Colby answers from behind, "Clean her up. I want my turn with her." Sam smirks and licks his lips again before leaning forward.

A shiver goes down your spine from Colby's words and Sam's tongue gliding over the fresh puncture wounds.

A little whimper leaves your lips, "Please."

"Soon baby." Both say in unison.

"Stand up for me, princess." Sam says and you stand up, slightly wobbly. Colby moves behind you, sweeping you off your feet, "You'll get used to that the more it happens."

You stare up at him, captivated by how a demon can look so pretty.

"I'm not in my true form, sweetheart." Colby smirks, walking you into your room, "Maybe one day I'll show you."

"What do you look like?" You ask and Colby lays you on the bed, "Let's not talk about that right now." He licks his lips, pressing them to yours.

Your hands move to his neck, moaning quietly against them. He slides a hand down, slipping it under your shirt, earning a moan as he toys with your nipple.

You tilt your head back, arching your back as he pinches a bit harder.

You wonder where Sam is, and he instantly appears next to you, "I'm right here, princess." He smirks down at you and you bite down on your lip.

You had so many emotions flooding through your mind and body.

You have never, never felt like this before and that was part of their goal.

Colby slips his hand out, gripping your shirt at the top and tearing it with a smooth glide, exposing your chest, "Mm. Naughty girl, not wearing a bra."

You bite your lip, looking down at him and he smirks, "I like it better when you don't." He winks and leans down, attaching his lips to one nipples while his fingers find the other.

A moan leaves your lips as you lay a hand on the back of his head, "Fuck."

Sam leans down slightly, laying a hand on your head and brushing it over your hair, "We've been watching you for a while now. Did you know that?"

"N-no." You whimper and Sam chuckles, "Of course not. We didn't want to make you love sick, we just needed a way to make you ours before we told you who we truly are."

Colby leans up, "You're the only sense of humanity we have."

"Really?" You look from him to Sam and Sam nods, "Really." You look back to Colby as you feel your jeans being unbuttoned. You lift your hips, eager for them to be off quicker.

Sam stands up, unbuttoning his shirt as Colby works on undressing you fully, "Shit, this is so fucking hot."

Colby smirks, chuckling as he slides his hands up your bare legs, stopping at the band of your panties, "You're more than ready for us, aren't you?"

You nod quickly, "Yes." You move your hips up and down, "yes."

"Taste her, Colby." Sam commands and with that, your panties are ripped from your body, tossed like nothing to the floor.

"Fuck." Colby groans, quickly getting into position with his head between your thighs. Your lips part as you watch his inch closer to you, biting down on your lip when he glances up at you.

He closes the space, his tongue gliding up and down your folds, groaning against you as he finally tastes what he's been anticipating.

Sam's eyes are heavily focused on Colby, watching as he eats you out, "Fuck." He whispers, hand sliding down to palm himself.

You slide your arm towards him while placing your other hand on Colby's head, moaning as your back arches, "S-Sam."

Sam's eyes move to you, instantly picking up on what you want to do for him. He discards his pants, his boxers quickly following, leaving him naked as he climbs on the bed.

He sits on his knee, resting back on his calves as he reaches down. His fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding it to wrap around his cock.

He lets out a relieving moan, bucking his hips as you squeeze and gently stroke him up and down, "F-fuck."

His chest rises and falls quickly as his eyes watch you touch him.

You look over, locking eyes with him as you moan. He focuses on yours, "Cum."

Your body tenses up as a wave of absolute pressure washes over your body, screaming out as you tug on Colby's hair, which earns a deep groan from him.

"That's it, princess." Sam moans, "Fuck."

You catch your breath, watching as Colby sits up. He moves up, attaching his lips to yours and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue that moves against yours.

Sam grabs your wrist, pulling it away from him as he moves to the end of the bed. Once Colby climbs off, Sam grabs your ankles, easily pulling you down so your legs hang down.

You watch as Sam drops to his knees, hooking his arms under your knees as he moves in. His tongue slips into you, groaning as you gasp, "Sh-it."

Colby gets onto the bed, biting his lip as he watches you take his cock into your hand without being told, "Such a good girl." He reaches down, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

You part them, taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking. He tilts his head, watching the sight below him.

He looks down at Sam, watching him devour you before looking back, "Use your mouth, baby."

You comply, you don't need any kind of compulsion to do anything.

It's all you.

You push his thumb out of your mouth with your tongue, lifting your head to allow the tip of his cock to replace it.

He gasps, moaning as he lays a hand on the back of your head, "More, baby. Take more of me."

You swirl your tongue, coating him in saliva before you push your head onto him more. You moan around him as Sam slips a finger into your soaked cunt, tongue swirling around your clit.

Colby fights to keep his eyes open, "Shit." He pushes your head down, holding it there as he thrusts his hips, "Doing so fucking good."

Your back arches and your moans are muffled. Colby holds still, allowing you to have control again.

You bob your head, pausing as Sam slips another finger in, curling them slowly as he sucks your clit.

"Fuck." Colby glances down at Sam and back to you, brushing hair from your face. You tilt your head back, taking a deep breath as you moan loudly.

Colby moves back a little, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Cum."

You whimper as your orgasm rushes in again, ripping loud moans and screams from your throat as you cum around Sam's fingers.

"Does that feel good?" Colby asks stroking his hand over your hair, "Looks like it does."

"Yesyesyes!" You scream out, "Fuck yes!"

Sam pulls his fingers out, standing up to lean down over you. Your eyes lock into his as he slips his two fingers into your mouth, "lick them clean for me."

Your tongue swirls around his fingers, sucking them clean like he said. He drags them out, pulling your bottom lip down slightly as he leans down to kiss where he bit a not, too long ago.

He reaches up, gripping your chin as he studies your face, "I want to drink from you while Colby fucks you from behind."

You nod, "P-please, Sam."

"You don't have to beg, princess. Not this time." He smirks and stands up, walking around to lay on the bed, "Come here."

You sit up, turning around to crawl up the bed, straddling his lap. Colby moves behind you, hands on your hips as you lean down to connect your lips with Sam's.

You feel spit run down over your center, followed by Colby's cock rubbing it in before slipping the tip of his cock in.

You gasp into Sam's mouth and both of their hands hold your body still, "Feel good?" Sam asks lowly and you nod, eyes closed as you moan, "So good."

Sam kisses down the front of your neck, licking back up to under your jaw, "Think you can take both of us at once?"

His words surprise you and he chuckles, "Only if you want to try of course."

Colby pushes his cock into you, groaning as his fingers dig into your hips, "Shit." He bites down on his lip, slowly pulling out before starting to thrust at a slow pace.

You moan, looking down at Sam. He watches your face scrunch up as he slides his hand up to your neck, slowly squeezing.

"fuck, I can't fight it anymore." Sam groans as he pulls your hair back into a make shift ponytail, holding it with his hand, "Stay as still as you can for me, okay?"

You whimper in response, moaning from Colby's cock thrusting in and out of you.

Sam licks his lips, tilting his head to get to the side he hasn't bit yet. He pulls you in close and sinks his fangs into your neck.

You let out a small yelp, quickly covering it up with a loud moan. You fist the sheets next to Sam, pulling in them as you try to stay as still as you can.

Colby's grip on your hips is tight enough to where you know you'll have small round bruises from his fingers digging into your skin.

Sam sucks your neck, moaning lowly as lifts his head slightly. His eyes flick down to your neck, "I'll never get enough of you."

"I'm yours." You moan out quietly, "Both of yours."

"Who do you belong to?" Colby asks, "Say it louder."

Sam reconnects his mouth to your neck, making your vision go blurry, "Y-yours." You moan, screaming out, "Both, I belong to you both."

"That's our girl." Colby groans, "Our fucking girl."

Sam lifts his head, licking your neck clean and lays his head back. You stare down at him as Colby's thrusts come to a stop.

Sam reaches down, grabbing his cock to slide it into your cunt along with Colby's.

You let out a whimper as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate them both, "F-fuck." You hang your head down, whimpering as they both start to thrust, quickly finding a pace.

Sam slides his hand back up, cupping your cheek, "Tell us how good you feel."

"So.. fucking.." you gasp, "Good!"

"Do you want to cum?" Colby asks and you answer him immediately, "Yes, yes. So bad." A string of whines and moans leave your lips non-stop.

"Little bit longer baby." Colby rubs his hand up and down your back, "Doing so good for us."

Your eyes scan quickly over Sam's face. There's just something about the blood covering his chin that turns you on even more.

"Thank you." He groans out with a smirk. You smile, biting your lip as your brows furrow, "Oh fuck. Fuck."

"Think she's had enough, Colbs?" Sam asked eyes not leaving your face.

"She's earned a break." Colby answers and Sam pinches your chin between his pointer and thumb, "Look at me, princess."

You open your eyes and he locks his onto yours, "Cum."

Pleasure washes over you, causing your body to shake as it feels much more powerful than the last two orgasms you had.

You feel their cocks slip out of you and you cling to Sam, moaning and whining as you work your way through your high.

"That's it, baby. That's it." Sam whispers as he plants kisses on your face, leaving little spots of blood.

You slowly relax, breathing heavy as you roll off of Sam to lay on the bed.

"You know. You look so cute with blood on your face." Sam leans over and smiles down at you. You laugh slightly, too tired to even care.

You feel someone one wiping you off and Sam comes back with a clean face and something to wipe yours off with.

You didn't think they would do this, you thought they were just going to have their way with you and leave.

"Just because we're labeled as not good doesn't mean we don't care about the aftercare part." Colby smirks slightly and you smile, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart. You have a lot to learn." He winks and pulls the blankets up over your legs, "And yeah, that means we aren't going anywhere."

"Mhm. We claimed you." Sam says lying next to you, he brushes hair from your face, "so does it all make sense now?"

You nod, looking between them, "oh yeah. Everything is so much clearer now."

"You're still in shock aren't you?" Colby asks and you bat the air, "not at all." He raises a brow and tilts his head, "We can tell how you're feeling, babe. No need to lie."

You sigh, "Okay, fine. Maybe a little bit."

Colby lays next to you on your other side and rubs your arm, "Do you have any questions for us?"

"Were those thuds I heard earlier, you guys?" You ask as you pull the blanket up a little more. Sam laugh, "Yeah, that was Colby accidentally knocking stuff over."

You laugh, "This is just.." you sigh, "I'm sure I have more questions, I just.. my brain right now is so scrambled."

"You're fine, princess." Sam smiles, "You need rest."

"Will you be here in the morning?" You ask and look between them. Sam nods and Colby smiles, "We're always with you."

Sam smirks, "You have claim on us now."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did and let me tell you, it was A LOT. So let me know how I did!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken

[wriothesleybear]

~warnings: Reader watching Wrio jerk himself off, guided masturbation, using spit as lube, men moaning and whimpering, cum tasting, reader calling Wrio a good boy, sub!Wrio, fem!dom!reader (but could be considered gn since no pronouns are used), MDNI!

Imagine asking Wriothesley if you could watch him jerk himself off. It came out of nowhere while you two were having your daily afternoon tea. This sudden request surprised him and caused him to choke on his tea a bit. Once he gathers himself and registers what you said, he asks you to confirm. "You want to watch me jerk myself off?" With a smile, you reply with a yes. "If you're comfortable with it of course." He takes a few seconds to contemplate your offer. He's never masturbated in front of you before, but he has masturbated to the thought of you watching him. He wasn't sure if you just somehow knew that he did or if you're able to read his mind. "Okay." Your eyes light up at his agreement with your request. "I want to watch you do it in your office chair while I sit on your desk and watch." He nods his head, getting up and walking over to sit in his desk chair. You sit on top of his desk, waiting patiently for him to start.

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, pulling them down just enough to let his cock free. It's already hard. You giggle. "Already this hard and you haven't even touched yourself yet." He can't deny that the second you proposed your request, blood started to flow to his cock, making his pants tight and uncomfortable. He puts his hand around his cock and gives it a few quick jerks. "Slowly now. There's no rush darling." You tell him. He listens and slowly jerks himself while keeping his eyes on you. Your eyes are focused intently on his cock. "Spit in your hand." He pauses. "What?" "I said spit in your hand. Use it to lube up your cock." He still doesn't move, debating your demand. "Unless you want me to spit on it." You smirk. His eyes widen a bit, silently wanting you to use your spit instead of his own. "But I don't think you've deserved it yet." He tries to hide his disappointment but you notice it. "How about this. You use your own spit and jerk yourself for a bit and if I think it's satisfactory, I'll add a little of my own. How does that sound?" He nods his head and spit into his hand, then lathers his cock with it, making it easier to jerk his cock. He releases a shaky breath from the softer treatment on his cock. "Good. Now show me how you usually masturbate."

He does as you request and tightens his grip a bit, doing a few twists of his wrist as he goes up and down his cock. His breathing starts to become ragged. The sight of your eager eyes watching closely as he jerks himself off, it's like a dream come true. "Quicken your pace a bit for me." He does as you say and jerks his cock at a quicker pace. He bites his lip to muffle his moans as his pleasure builds up. "Stop." Pausing his movements, he gives you a confused look, silently asking why you made him stop. "I made you stop because you're holding back. I want to hear you moan Wrio. Let me know how good it feels to jerk yourself off in front of me. Don't hold back or I'll make you stop again." He nods his head. "Good boy. Now start over with a slow pace again." He's a bit frustrated at having to start slow but he listens to you. His calloused hand wraps around his cock, slowly moving it up and down the entire length of his cock. You smile at his willingness to listen to your commands. "Unbutton your shirt." Removing his hand from his cock, he wastes no time in unbuttoning his vest and shirt, allowing his chiseled chest to become bare for your eyes.

"Continue." Eagerly, he continues his strokes, his pleasure slowly beginning to build again. "Faster." He listens and happily quickens his strokes, twisting and pulling at his cock, making sure to squeeze the head of his cock. He curses. "Fuck." Breathing heavily, he allows his moans to be let out, filling your ears. Your thighs squeeze together, getting turned on by watching the beautiful sight of your sexy boyfriend moaning as he masturbates in front of you. "Getting close?" He quickly nods his head. You get off of his desk and grab his hand that's wrapped around his cock. Opening up his hand, you spit unto his palm as you keep eye contact with him. He swears he could've just came right then and there. "Jerk yourself until I tell you to come."

He leans further back, legs spreading wider, hand gripping his cock tighter and pumping more vigorously. His head falls back and his eyes close as moans fall from his lips. His moans get louder and a bit more higher pitched compared to the regular deep sound of his voice the closer he gets to his orgasm. "Good boy. That's it. Let it out. Show me how good it feels." Your guiding and reassuring words help to push him closer to the edge. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." He cries out. "Go for it. Go ahead and cum for me Wrio." That sends him over. He spurts his warm, sticky cum over his stomach and hand, moaning and thighs shaking as he rides out his high. He whines when he feels the slight overstimulation until he stops his movements completely.

He slumps in his chair, chest heaving as he basks in the afterglow, his mind clouded. He's soon able to gather himself as you cup his face and pull him into a kiss. Breaking the kiss, you look deeply into his eyes, smile covering your features at how well he did. "You did well, my love." You peck his lips, moving to leave a kiss on his cheek, forehead, and the tip of his nose. He breathily chuckles, cheeks slightly red as realizes what he just did. You look down and admire the mess he made on himself. You use the tip of your finger to touch the cum on his stomach, gathering some on your finger and bringing it up to your lips for a taste. He watches in awe as you lick your finger clean and enjoy the taste of his salty, bitter cum.

"As a reward, I'll clean you up with my tongue." You say as you get on your knees in front of him. "Let's see. Where should I start first? How about I start with your hand, then your stomach, then finish with your cock?" You look up at him with a flirty smile and lust filled eyes. His cock twitches in response. You giggle. "I'll take that as a yes." He knows he's just going to end up making another mess again..

~a/n: Wtf did I just write lmao. Anyways, there will be a part 2..😈

[sugawhaaa]

Can I request a yeosang x reader fic where she's been sexually active before but never been eaten out and not with someone big like Yeosang. So she asks Yeosang what oral feels like or a big cock feels like and he shows her instead. Accidentally making her squirter which she didn't know what a think while he fucks her

YEOSANG ONE-SHOT

☆~TONGUE TWISTER~☆

Warnings:: SMUT

Pairing:: soft!dom!yeosang x sub!fem!reader

Genre:: oral (fem) fingering, praise, teasing, edging, squirting (2x) , lil bit of a size kink, creampie

W/C:: 3,017

A/N:: I tweaked a few things from the request but I hope you still enjoy it 🙏 also I think I am officially finished of my break <3 I probably won't be posting as consistently as I used to be I'm back 💪

🎧::

Yeosang knew that you were new to all this sexual stuff but he didn't really know how inexperienced or experienced you were. He knew that he was your first and he “took” your virginity. He didn't want to push you into other things too early like bdsm or even implying sex toys into your time together. He didn't know what your previous lovers might have done with you either. Anything revolving around oral he never knew if you had received or given it before.

It had been a few months since you and Yeosang had sex for the first time. He was patiently waiting, not wanting to push you or rush you into things again but he felt a little worried when it got to about four months.

When you crawled into bed Yeosang dragged you closer to him. You were a little surprised but assumed he just wants cuddles. You snuggled into his chest as he draped an arm over your body. “Hey baby. I wanted to talk to you about something,” Yeosang says softly, trying not to sound intimidating.

“Sure baby, what's up?” You tilt your head and he thinks for a moment.

“When we had sex, did you enjoy it?” The question catches you off guard. You were expecting something way less deep than that.

“Of course,” you chuckle before meeting his gaze, looking up into his eyes. “Why? Is there something going on?” You rub his chest and he laughs softly.

“No, no, darling. I was just making sure since you haven't asked to try it again,” he pats your head with a laugh before kissing your forehead.

“Oh…I was waiting for you to say something,” you chuckle awkwardly and feel a thick tension growing in the room. “Why bring this up now though?”

“I've just been thinking,” he says before rolling his tongue around the inside of his bottom lip. “You were a virgin before we met, right?” He confirms and you nod. “And I was wondering if you've ever experienced…” he pauses as he rolls circles on your forearm. “Oral?” He finishes his sentence and you feel your heart skip.

In truth, you never experienced someone's mouth on you before. You always dreamed about getting eaten out and how it would feel to have someone's tongue inside you, even if it was only the tip of their tongue.

“Well…I haven't,” you pause and bite your lip, waiting for his response. You can tell just from his body language that he wants to eat you out so bad right now. He would do it in a heartbeat but he needs you to say it.

“Would you like to try it?” He looks at you eagerly and you blush. You nod softly and he smirks before running his finger along your chin. “I need to hear your words baby. What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to eat me out,” you look directly at him as you speak and he bites his lip.

“That's exactly what I wanted to hear my love,” he runs his hands down your body before shifting you so you lay on your back. “Just relax baby, I'll take good care of you,” he kisses your cheek softly before roaming his hands under your shirt, getting you all riled up. He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. He creeps his tongue into your mouth and circles his tongue around yours, flipping it as he does so.

You can't help but moan into the kiss. It was apparent he was experienced with his tongue and that was going to be the thing to make you break for him. He curled his tongue into yours and you whimpered softly. He pulls back and looks into your eyes, his hand coming up to stroke the side of your face. “Does that feel good?” He runs his opposite hand over your breast as he speaks. You nod with a smile.

“It feels strange but so good,” you chuckle and he smiles. He holds the side of your face and tilts your head up to look at him.

“Open your mouth,” he instructs in a low but calm voice. You do as he says parting your lips and opening your mouth slightly. “Stick out your tongue a little,” he rubs your temple as he speaks. As you poke your tongue out he slides his tongue into your mouth without touching your lips together. He runs his tongue over yours and you moan softly. He circles his tongue around yours again and you feel the heat growing between your legs.

You couldn't wait for him to do that to your clit. To your folds. To the inside of your walls. How much longer can you hold out before begging for him. He smirks before pulling back again. “Is my little doll eager?” He chuckles as he points out you rubbing your thighs together. You blush and look away. “It's okay baby, you can be greedy,” he leans down again and begins to lick along your jaw before kissing it. He sits back and pulls your shirt off to reveal your bare torso to him. He makes his way down to your breasts with little kisses and licks that make you arch your back.

Finally he reaches your tits and begins to suck and circle his tongue around your sensitive buds.

“Oh yes~” you moan softly and tangle your fingers into his hair. He chuckles against your soft skin as he pulls on your sensitive skin. The sensation was slightly painful but it had a strange tingle to it afterwards. His lips separate from your skin and he smiles.

“That feel good, baby? You comfortable?” He runs his hands down your torso as he speaks. You nod with a satisfied hum and he smiles. “Good,” he says before leaning back down to the other nipple, relentlessly attacking it as well. You let out a soft moan as he twirls his tongue around your nipple, using his flexible tongue ability to make you quiver.

“Please yeosang, I can't wait any longer,” you whine and he chuckles, popping his lips off of your bud.

“Alright, alright, I suppose I've teased you enough,” he chuckles as he leans back to take off your pants on panties. He moves slowly and gently, kissing you in between movements. “How wet are you hm?” He runs his thumb down your folds and you moan softly. His thumb glides swiftly and effortlessly. It was like you had put a whole bottle of lube on your folds. He can't help but chuckle as he sees your soaked state. “Oh my she is desperate, aren't you?” He says before pressing on your clit. You moan and bite your lip.

He sits up again and pulls his shirt off before situating himself just above your thighs. “Spread your legs baby,” you do as he asks instantly, not wanting to waste time. He blows softly on your clit and you whimper, clenching the bed sheets in your hand. “Relax baby,” he runs his fingers down your folds again. After what felt like an eternity he parted his lips, his tongue poking out as he creeped closer to your burning, aching core. You feel one last breath on your clit before feeling his tongue press against it.

His tongue was warm compared to the cold air he'd been blowing on you and the texture was just out of this world. It was like running the inside of a warm fruit on your folds. You can't hold back your gasps of amazement as he begins to flick his tongue up and down your core. Right from your clit down to your entrance. He didn't press through your folds yet, wanting to take things slow, but him flicking your clit was enough to make you squirm.

He smirks against you before beginning to suck on your sensitive skin and clit. Your legs threatened to close around him as he sucked and flicked your clit with his tongue. You grab a fistful of his hair and push your hips into his face slightly. He grabs the back of your thighs, allowing him to move more with more pressure and your legs jerk. He massages your thighs, silently telling you to relax. You feel him move back a bit before pouring out some spit onto your folds.

He spreads it around with his tongue, moving in flipping circles. Everytime your body tried to squirm away from his tongue his head would follow, never separating his tongue and lips from your body.

“Yeosang,” you moan softly as you toss your head back. He looks up at you, acknowledging the fact you said his name. He hummed softly against your folds as a response and you look down at him. “Please don't stop,” you whimper and he smirks before backing up to catch his breath.

“Wasn't planning on it,” he leans back down. He continues to roll his tongue over your folds. He then pokes his tongue at your entrance, the tip of his tongue slipping in as he rolls his tongue in a circle. You arch your back into his face and he holds you to his face. He goes back up to your clit, then tour folds, before slipping his tongue back inside you.

He continued this process before moving his head back and forth to and extra stimulation. He then eases one of his fingers inside you, curling it slowly. You moan uncontrollably as he pumps his finger into you and before you know it you feel the knot building in your stomach and as your body squirms Yeosang doesn't let you go. Every time your hips jerk around Yeosang follows you resulting in your orgasm approaching faster than expected but Yeosang doesn't stop.

Your legs reflexively lock around his head as your body shudders, your release pouring out of you into his lips. Yeosang continues pumping his finger into you, slowly adding another, as he flicks your clit. Something about the way he moved his tongue around your clit and to your folds made you want to scream in pleasure yet you couldn't breathe because the pleasure was that overwhelming. “Y-Yeosang,” you stutter out as a way to warn him of this orgasm. It felt different though. Like something more was about to be released and almost like…peeing?

No way were you going to pee, no that would be humiliating! Peeing on your boyfriend's face while receiving oral for the first time!? But you couldn't hold whatever this was in. It was uncontrollable and before you knew it the sound of liquid spraying out of you and hitting the floor filled your ears but it felt so fucking good. Your whole body was tingling in pure bliss and you couldn't hold back a smile as you laid there.

When you opened your eyes again you realized what had happened. Yeosangs face was quite literally, drenched. The hair around his face was wet and some of it even stuck to the sides of his face. Your fluids dripped down his chin and neck and you felt your head spin. This was a sight that you would never get tired of.

“So how was that?” He smirks before standing up. You were surprised by his abrupt urge to leave but he only grabbed a cloth to wipe his face. You lazily watched him as he dried himself off and looked at the liquid that coated his shirt, gluing it to his chest. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the side. “Do you want me to dry you off too?” He asks, gesturing the cloth to you and you shake your head. He smiles and sets the cloth down.

He lays next to you and props himself up with his elbow, admiring you. He runs his hand down your arm softly as he looks at you. “That was amazing baby,” he leans in and kisses your forehead. “How are you feeling?” He moves to caress your chest gently.

“I can't even describe it. Tired but full of this buzzing energy,” you explain. “There was just so much at once it feels like a blur,” you sigh happily and turn to him.

“Are you done for the night?” He caresses your cheek with his thumb and you turn to loom at him.

“Not yet,” you smile and roll closer to him. He licks his lips before nibbling on his lower lip.

“You're so hot baby,” he chuckles softly under his breath. He quickly undoes his pants and throws everything somewhere on the floor. “Come here my love,” he pulls you closer to him before beginning to bite your neck, claiming you. “How do you want me to fuck you this time?” He says with a slight growl. It was obvious he was beginning to get more comfortable with you in the sexual sense. “Want me to bend you over~? Or fuck you missionary so you can stare right into my eyes as I make you cum,” he growls between kisses and you whimper. “Or do you wanna try something new~?” His proposal sounded intriguing but were you ready for something like that? There was no rush but…

“I want you to fuck me however you want,” you blush as you speak, the words tasting nastier than you expected.

“Oh~? You're so eager baby, I love you,” he kisses your neck one last time before pulling away from you. “I want to make sure you're comfortable so tell me to stop at any point okay?” He smiles as he sits up. You nod and follow as he directs you. “Lay on your stomach and spread your legs. Rest on your knees a bit as well to hold your bum up a bit,” he encourages by holding you up by your waist. You blush at the feeling of his fingertips drawing so close to your heat. You do as he says and hold yourself up. “Look at you, being such a good girl,” he whispers in your ear and you feel goosebumps rise along your skin.

He then comes around behind you probing his tip at your entrance. “We'll go slow, tell me if you're uncomfortable,” he reminds you as he runs his cock along your folds, collecting your fluids.

“Yeah, I will,” you reply as you turn to watch him.

“Alright, here we go,” he aligns himself up accordingly before pushing in. You felt your eyes roll back as he filled you up, inching inside you.

“Oh my god,” you moan and grab the pillow, digging your nails into the soft fabric. Yeosang brings his hand up to your face, tucking back your hair and strumming his fingers through the strands.

“You're doing so good baby,” he leans down, resting his lower body on yours. Yeosang finally reaches the bottom of your pussy and rests there, letting you adjust to him. He gently rests his body on top of yours, his head resting on your shoulder. He whispers reassuring words and praise into your ear as you adjust to him.

“You can move now,” you say softly and he smiles before doing as you said. He lifts his hips before pushing back in with a gentle thrust. You moan softly at the feeling. You could feel him stretching you out and it was an addicting feeling.

“Relax baby,” he said as he rubs your waist softly, still gently thrusting. “You're doing so good,” he says before kissing your neck softly. The sound of your body's clapping against each other echoed in the room as he continuously hit your A-Spot. Your moans increase in volume and pace as he kisses your neck.

You drop your head down into the pillow, burying your face in the silky fabric as Yeosang thrusts harder. “How are you feeling baby?” He speaks in a low rasp next to your ear.

“Amazing,” you stutter out and he smirks.

“You like being stretched out by me?” He says in a teasing tone that makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Yes,” you say between moans and whimpers. He begins to move faster, thrusting in and out of you so quickly that you can't moan for every thrust, it was all so fast. “Y-Yeosang I'm close,” you managed to croak out as he pounded into you.

“Me too baby,” he sits up a little to thrust as fast as he can, making you squeal. “You're so tight, I can't wait to see you cum again,” he groans as he holds himself up. As he growls dirty words you feel yourself coming undone, unraveling before him. Your body shakes softly as you clench the pillow like your life depends on it. With one last cry of his name you empty out beneath him. Yeosang thrusts a few more times before slamming into you, pouring his seed into you.

He thrusts into you harshly for each surge of cum, filling you up entirely. Your body relaxes as the waves settle. Yeosang lays on top of you, trying to hold himself up as much as he can so he doesn't hurt you but after that peak he just reached he was struggling. “You're so beautiful, my baby,” he whispers in your ear as he rubs your back softly. “I love you,” he pants out and you smile.

“I love you too baby,” you smile with a chuckle. He then sits up, pulling out swiftly.

“Spread your legs again baby, let me eat that cream pie,” he hisses before resting his head between your legs. He lifts your hips up slightly as he eats you out again, from behind this time. “Fuck you taste so good baby,” he growls against your sensitive skin, dipping his tongue into your entrance. You whimper softly as he uses that twisting method with his tongue again.

You squirm, seeking his mouth all over your core again. Yeosang smirks as he notices your eagerness. “You want me to make you squirt again?” He asks in a teasing tone and you nod.

“Yes, please,” you whimper and he chuckles.

“Remember baby, just because it happened once doesn't mean it'll happen every time,” he explains softly. “So if you don't squirt this time that's okay, don't pressure yourself,” he kisses your ass softly before moving down to your slit again.

You hum softly, acknowledging his words as he licks up your folds. He sucks your folds into his lips before rolling his tongue over them. You moan into the pillow and Yeosang starts eating you out more aggressively, lapping at your juices. He creeps his hand around to your clit, rubbing it back and forth. He uses his flipping tongue method again and you instantly feel your core tightening again.

“Hey baby, I think I'm close again,” you whimper pathetically and Yeosang hums in acknowledgment. He rubs your clit faster as he pokes his tongue into your entrance continuously. His free hand however creeps up from your hip around to your puckered asshole, probing it softly with his finger for extra stimulation. You bury your face in the pillow as your walls clench around nothing, pushing out some of the cum from earlier that Yeosang likes up instantly. From the triple stimulation your body begins to shudder as you snap, coming undone. As you gasp for air Yeosang slides a finger inside you and starts pumping it without hesitation.

You gasp loudly and buck your hips from the sudden intrusion. As the tension in your gut forms again you bite the pillow and once again that feeling of “peeing” returns. You were worried once again that this could go badly but at the same time this all felt so good you didn't care how it ended. Before you knew you could feel the warm liquid spray out of you and Yeosang pulled back, wanting to watch this time.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” he rubs your lower back and ass softly. Your body goes completely limp as your body releases everything. Yeosang still ended up being covered in bodily fluids but this time he didn't care, he just wanted to cuddle you. He lays next to you and roll over, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Was that too much?” He asks nervously, worried he hurt you or something but you shake your head.

“No, it was just…a lot,” you sigh with a smile and he pulls you into his chest.

“You were incredible baby,” he showers you in kisses before pulling the blankets up to cover you, trying to avoid the spot with a massive puddle. As your body falls limp under the blankets Yeosang lays next to you, admiring your beauty in such a peaceful state. “I love you,” he kisses your forehead. “Sweet dreams my love,”

[brayneworms]

shoot it up (straight to the heart).

featuring. childe/reader

word count. 5.7k

content. merc!reader, drinking, kissing, masochist!childe because i am not immune to that agenda, sparring, gender neutral reader, childe is a little shit, blood, finger sucking, biting, handjobs, hair pulling, one instance of degradation (whore), light begging and light crying.

synopsis. childe has always found you fascinating; now that his stint in liyue is up and he's scheduled to return to snezhnaya, he takes the opportunity to get something from you he's wanted for months.

notes. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, i check the notes and you will be blocked.

"Ahh, the scourge of the complacent! Fancy seeing you here on a night like tonight."

You tip your eyes up to the ceiling of the inn; his voice rings out clear as bells over the chatter and rowdiness, and maybe it's a mark of your attunement to his specific brand of irksomeness that you hear the bounce of his footsteps approach over the general cacophony of laughter and drinks slamming.

There are four empty stools at the bar. He takes the one right next to you, sliding home with a boyish grin. You scratch at your forehead with all the fatigue of a working mother-of-five, catch the bartender's eye, and silently flag down another drink.

Tartaglia whistles as you raise the cup to your lips, making you pause; mead sops against your mouth, burning against raw picked skin. "I see even the alcohol of Liyue is no match for you, scourge."

"Don't call me that," you say flatly, and knock the cup back. There isn't enough booze in this whole tavern to make this a bearable conversation, but at least you could soften the edges. If you got drunk enough, you might be able to pretend he was nothing more than a lurid ginger mosquito buzzing around your head for attention.

Attention you always seemed to grant, no matter how much you swear you'll ignore him.

"Your lovely friend at the funeral parlour told me I might find you here," Tartaglia continues talking even though you're staring at the ceiling praying for patience. "She's pretty fond of you, huh? Can't imagine why, with your prickly attitude—oh, barkeep, I'll have what they're having, please." He flashes a pearly grin at the bartender, who pours him a cup of mead.

"Did you come here just to bother me?" you grit out, staring at the dregs in your cup; it sloshes darkly amongst the dull silver, and you can see a glimmer of a reflection, your eye staring back at you.

"What an ego you sport!" Tartaglia sounds righteously offended. "I came here to drink." And as if to prove his point, he raises his cup to his lips and takes a deep gulp. You can see his pale throat flex as he swallows, the bob of bones beneath papery skin.

He coughs a little as he sets the cup back down, empty. You try not to let your surprise show on your face.

"Liyue mead has quite the burn," Tartaglia comments. "You'd think I'd be used to it after being weaned on that Snezhnyan paint-thinner, but what can I say? This place has a kick."

He leans back on his barstool, a vaguely soft, wistful look passing over his features. Then he says, "I'll certainly miss it."

The cup slips from your fingers, and you curse yourself. "You're leaving?"

Tartaglia smiles, a little sadly. "The Tsaritsa summoned me back. I'll have to take off by the end of the week."

"No shit?" Tartaglia's been posted here and bothering you for way longer than you arrived to act as a temporary guard for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour. You weren't sure why such a place needed extra beef with security, but it paid well, and Hu Tao and Zhongli were well-meaning employers and good company, so you could hardly complain. That was the beauty of freelance, after all.

"Oh? You sound disappointed." Tartaglia leans forward, cupping his chin in his hand; his eyes find yours, gleaming in the low light. "What? Don't tell me you're going to miss me?"

You glare at him. "Do people miss the mosquitoes they swat when they're buzzing around their head?"

"You always act like I'm vermin," Tartaglia pouts. "Still, you're having a drink with me—I consider that a victory."

"One of your few," you toast, raising your cup, and Tartaglia's playful expression sullens a touch, like a cloud covering up the sun. "Oh, don't get all kicked-puppy on me. Thought you could take a little pain."

"Better than you know," Tartaglia says with a stunning return to form and a coy grin. You must be just tipsy enough to entertain him, because you don't seize a handful of his bright hair and ram his face into the bar like you briefly consider doing. There wouldn't be much in it for you beyond the satisfying crack of bone and yelp of pain. As for Tartaglia, he'd probably get off on it.

You both down another cup, and now the lines that make up the tavern are starting to blur pleasantly. There's a soft, fuzzy feeling filling you up, like you're made of cotton instead of flesh and blood and magic. A faint flush has made itself known on Tartaglia's cheekbones, lurid against his hair, illuminating the scatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He's surprisingly lightweight, for as hard as you known Snezhnayan liquor to be.

"Would you walk with me?" Tartaglia holds your eye like he's making a promise, though not to you. He says half the things he says like he's talking to someone else, someone you cannot see. He holds out a gloved hand, grinning. "C'mon. I want to show you something."

Your brows knit up, suspicious. "Why me?"

"I'm currently not speaking to any of my other friends," Tartaglia says haughtily. "Sneaks and liars, all of 'em. As, uh, disarming as you are, scourge, at least you're honest. So... c'mon. Humour a man's last wish."

"You're not dying," you say acidly, but you get up. Tartaglia grins, delighted, sweeping up his coat from the barstool and paying out. You follow him out of the tavern; Liyue comes alive at night, you think, the harbour glimmering with a thousand lights, the water lapping at the chalky walls. Tartaglia takes your hand as the tavern door swings shut behind you. He runs warm, and you can see freckles spiralling up his wrist, and before you can protest he's started a brisk pace away from the water.

"The hell?" you mutter, making a weak attempt at taking your arm back. "Hey. Tartaglia. Where are we going?"

"So formal," he calls over his shoulder. "You can call me Childe, you know."

"Like that's even your real name," you roll your eyes. "What difference does it make?"

"Hm. Tartaglia feels more like a title. It's the name I use when I want to intimidate, you know?" He looks over his shoulder at you, the dull blue of his eyes catching in the moonlight. "I'm not foolish enough to think I could ever intimidate you, of all people."

And when he says that, it feels like a compliment. You curse the hot prickling you can feel at the backs of your ears as he leads you through town, up near where the mountains crest. It's all rickety ladders and bridges for a while before you come to a plane nestled between two great rocks. Grass and gravel spill out beneath your feet; in the middle of the wobbly circle is a wooden training dummy with chunks carved out of it. Torches bracket the space, filling the night with shifting bronze light.

It occurs to you briefly that Childe could be luring you out here to kill you, but just as easily the notion flees. He might be Fatui, and he might be insufferable, but the two of you have no real grievances as far as you know.

Besides—you're stronger. And the both of you know it.

You sweep a flat look around the circle and raise a brow. “Homey.”

Childe giggles. “You’re always so sharp-tongued, scourge. I’ve been reflecting on my stint in Liyue in light of everything, you know? What with my leaving so soon. I remembered the first time I saw you fight.”

Your brows draw up, taken aback; this is not a sentiment he has shared with you before. He paces as he talks, starts gesticulating like he’s trying to stir up a wind, though the night is virtually breezeless. Warm and damp and encapsulating. A line of sweat encroaches under your collar. 

“Some treasure-hoarders, they made a chokepoint out in the Guili Planes to intercept traders going down the road,” he tells you, as if this is news. “Zhongli asked me to deal with them myself, ‘cause they were stopping import to the city. But as soon as I got up there to scout it out, I saw you. What you’d left, anyway. This… trail. Like this—this big patch of carnage and you just in the middle of it, going blade-to-blade with this monster of a thief twice your size. Would you believe I was almost arrogant enough to think you needed my help?” His eyes shine feverishly, the moonlight catching off dead-fish-blue. “You brought him to heel like a misbehaving dog. He gave you a bloody nose and you just—just wiped at it like it was nothing. Didn’t it hurt? Always wanted to know if it hurt.”

“It hurt,” you manage, frozen with shock. He’s getting entirely too het-up too quickly, feverish in his excitement, pale cheeks flushed wine-red, and he moves closer as he waves his hands, eyes locked onto you like he’s a dog and you’re his master. It makes your blood feel too thick and too hot in your veins. 

“Thought so,” he breathes. “Thought it must’ve. It kinda… it sings, though. Doesn’t it?”

Stuck, you nod, though you only half understand what he’s talking about. 

Apparently satiated, Childe rubs the back of his neck bashfully. "Hah, sorry. You really get me talking, scourge."

"Don't give me the credit," you mumble. "It's one of your natural talents."

"Wanna see another one of my natural talents?" Childe grins; at your sharp look, he raises his hands placatingly, smile stretching ever wider. "I meant fighting, of course. C'mon. Truthfully, I've been thinking about it ever since that day. Fighting you."

He says that—fighting you—with the same sort of soft reverence one might reserve for making love or worshipping a deity. Like it's the centre of his world, the cell his heart was born from. You wonder how long it's been since Childe's days were anything but fighting, then reckon that that's probably a deliberate choice.

When he holds out a blunt wooden training staff out to you, his hands are perfectly steady. You heft it in your grip, getting used to the weight and balance. You're more accustomed to knives and swords, and small blades you can slip into your boot or belts, but you're not unfamiliar with polearms, exactly.

"Feel good?"

You jump; Childe's pressed closer to you in the time it took to examine your new weapon, and his words are accompanied with a brush of warm air across the back of your ear. "It's okay."

"Good! I want you at top form for this." He slopes off, twirling his own staff between gloved fingers obnoxiously. It makes a faint whistling sound against the warm night air. "Think you're ready?"

"Ready?" You can't help but sneer. "I don't need to be ready to fight a pest. I just do it."

Childe's grin is so wide that the flushed apples of his cheeks turn pointy. "Alright, killer. I've been looking forward to this for a while, and, y'know, I dunno when the next time is I'll meet someone as interesting as you... so don't disappoint me, yeah?"

The first crack of your staffs together sings.

It's an old melody, one you're attuned to, one you think you were born with. Impact shivers up your bones, disturbs the skin in a railroad of gooseflesh, sets your teeth on edge. There's the anticipation, the moment right before the new sensation turns uncomfortable or painful, like pressing down on a bruise, the moment before it starts hurting. The staffs gnash together like wooden teeth.

"You're quick," Childe says approvingly as you draw your arm back to your side, circling him in short steps. His eyes follow the lines of your body like he's trying to set you alight. You're not sure why you're doing this, actually—your relationship with Childe has been nothing but tepid the whole time he's been stinted in Liyue. From your end, anyways. He tends to sort of follow you around like a lost puppy when he has free time. No matter how many times you smack him and send him reeling, he always comes back with a bone clamped between his teeth, looking for fun.

A drink, a fuck. A fight. Maybe it's all sort of the same to him.

Your fight is a dance; Childe is undeniably skilled, and polearms aren't your first choice of weapon, so it's a fairly even fight despite your strength. Several times he moves far too quickly for you to comprehend—like you blink and he's shifted with the moonlight, gone from in front to behind you in a second. Laughing, poking, teasing until your blood is boiling despite the cold.

When you finally land a hit on him, it's sweet. Your staff cracks across his jaw with all the force of his annoyance to you over the last months, and Childe barely has time to widen his eyes before he crashes to the dirt. He lets out a pained grunt as he plants into the earth, and just as you're opening your mouth to gloat—

"Again."

It cracks into the night air like the crash of your staff against his jaw, pursed between wheezing breaths. His voice sings like cut piano strings, dissonant against what is happening. You stand over him, breathing hard, brow cinched as he sprawls in the dirt.

He's got chalky soil all over his pretty light uniform. He doesn't seem to care. Dull blue eyes blink up at you, round as pennies; you can see an angry welt raising on his jaw where your blow had made contact, flaring up scarlet against the pale skin. No doubt it will have flowered into a nasty bruise tomorrow, something the colour of overripe lavender melon.

But Childe grins.

You stumble back, frowning hard, and Childe makes a noise at the back of his throat as he sees you retreat. He scrambles messily to his feet, brushing dirt carelessly from his clothes.

"What?"

Childe cradles his jaw with a hiss. "You pack a punch. But I'm not done yet."

"You said again." You eye him warily, arms still not raised. "What did you..."

He huffs a laugh with a return of that boyish grin. "Ah, caught that, did you? I guess you could say I have a certain admiration for people who can land a hit on me. It's impressive. You're impressive."

Before you can decide whether he's swelteringly egotistical or just a pervert who gets off on pain, Childe lunges, swinging his sparring spear overhead; you shriek and parry it last-minute, your grip faltering enough that the wooden shafts collide with a harsh thwack; you don't fend the blow off completely thanks to your shoddy reaction time, but you manage to avoid getting struck in the head.

"Asshole," you grit out, stumbling left a few paces to get your bearings again; Childe circles you, twirling his spear between deft fingers with a sharp grin.

"I sensed your attention wandering," he shrugs. "You think you can hit me again?"

Your chin juts out, indignant. "Yeah. I'm stronger."

Beneath his lurid red hair, Childe's cheeks colour faintly. "Prove it, killer. Lemme feel it. Hit me—"

And he lunges, spear cracking through the air; this time, you're ready for it, seeing the telltale twitches of his body getting into formation before the pounce. You dodge his first hit, sending the tip of his spear sinking into the dirt, and whilst he's distracted with pulling it out you sweep the shaft of your own against the back of his knees. He buckles with a grunt, staggering, and you use his surprise to barrel your full body weight into his side.

He slips into the dirt, head thudding against the packed earth with a dull thud, and in your momentum you follow. By the time he's blinked the stars out of his eyes, your dagger is pressed up against his throat, nestled amongst the pale skin.

He breathes fast and sharp, a distinct contrast to his general collectedness. Your thighs cage his hips, and even from here you can feel his strength; his skin is shot through with sinew and iron. He could reach up, tussle, throw you off, put up a good fight. But he doesn't. He lays limp like a puppet with its strings cut, looking up at you with big, starry eyes—waiting for you to make the next move.

You come to a rather grim hypothesis.

The blunt tip of the dagger encroaches his skin, pushing in hard enough for blood to bead around it. Childe draws in a ragged gasp.

"Gonna kill me?" His tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip. He says that like it's an act of worship, like carving his throat out with a cinquedea is akin to leaving incense at a shrine for a far-flung god. Like his blood would be spattered amongst the stars if only you spilled it. Your breath catches; you hadn't been ready for the rush of power Childe's perversion would give you. You can feel it nestling under your skin like a heartbeat.

"I think you could, if you wanted," Childe whispers, and then he shudders at the thought, pretty eyes fluttering closed. He looks like he isn't sparing two thoughts to your hand holding a knife to his throat; skin breaks, and blood makes a thin rivulet down his pale skin. "Mm. Maybe I'd—I'd even let you. You could ask real nice."

"You're hardly in a position to be making demands," you murmur, feeling quite frozen. "Why don't you just be quiet for once?"

At once, Childe falls silent.

His bottom lip has split; probably why he was tonguing at it earlier. Now, with nothing to stop it, blood makes a languid trail down the slope of his chin. With your free hand, with the curiosity of a child petting a stray animal for the first time, you swipe at the trail with the pad of your thumb. You track it up to the seam, the cut, the split, press down hard until the surrounding skin of his lip turns white. You can feel the short, hot shocks of his quick breath against the skin of your nail.

The flash of his tongue surprises you, sliding over the bloody pad of your thumb, cleaning up his mess. A dog licking at its own wounds. Your breath catches, but you've never known when you're wading too deep. It's your one weakness as a fighter. You always think you can take more than you can.

So you press deeper. Your thumb sinks into his mouth up to the knuckle, and Childe lets out a faint groan. There's the ghostly scrape of teeth before his lips close over the skin, tongue swirling over the mess of blood and chalky dirt on the blunt tip of the digit.

Somewhere in the back of your head, you register faintly that this is not normal. Your interactions with Childe have been limited, so far, to snarky deadpans, irritable smacks, and the occasional drink. If you have occasionally caught his eyes lingering on the collar of your shirt, or following you when you enter a room soaked in hilichurl gore, you've made no comment. You'd assumed it would fizzle out, anyway. He's Fatui. They're hardly known for staying in one place a significant portion of time—they're dark-dressed ravens, flocking from place to place and bringing suspicion and misery for a while before taking to the sky again.

But Childe is not scoring the horizon. He's in the dirt with your finger in his mouth, and it looks like he's right at home there.

He releases you with a wet pop. Saliva and blood make a diluted trail down to his chin, and his eyes have peeled open again—heavy and half-lidded, blue slate stone, scoring deep into you. Your body feels hot and too full.

He cracks a lazy smile. "Never seen you speechless before, scourge. Does this mean I win?"

And something snaps.

In a fluid movement, you grab both of his wrists and pin them to the ground beside his head. Childe grunts a sound of surprise as your fingers tighten on his wrists, back instinctively arching from the sudden pressure; one of his legs slips in the earth and knocks against your ankle. He blinks up at you, eyes practically bioluminescent in the night.

"You don't look much like a winner," you snarl.

"Depends on your position."

"You're the Tsaritsa's bitch," you spit. "And if not hers, Zhongli's, or was it Signora who was the last one to get one up on you? Really, you've been failing upwards so much lately it's getting hard to keep count."

Childe's eyes narrow, the first glimmer of defiance sparking in the blue. For the first time you feel him throw his weight behind his halfhearted squirming—he raises his hips to try and buck you off, tugs at your grip on his wrists with renewed vigour. His fighting back shouldn't spark something in you—it shouldn't—but you can feel yourself growing excited.

The thing is, you sort of like killing. People don't get into your line of work if they don't. There's something about holding something down and winning through nothing but sheer strength that makes you feel strong, like you've earned a place on this earth. Watching Childe's jaw tick in frustration the longer he goes without unseating you is making all sorts of dangerous ideas brew in your head.

It's just—maybe it's the drink, or the fight, but the world is still pleasantly pretty and still. And Childe looks sort of gorgeous with his brow all scrunched up like that, the hint of icy anger in his eyes, the gritted teeth. His neck is strained in such a way that bares every jut and bone to you, and you can see his pulse fluttering away under the taut skin, the bob of his adam's apple.

You want to bite it.

Some sort of magnetism pulls you down, nosing at the skin of his neck. Childe grunts, half-frustrated and half-confused when he feels your lips brush over his throat. He smells like salt and mead and copper, labour smells, but his skin here is smooth like it's never seen a day of wear.

"What're you—" Childe huffs out, but his mouth drops open with a choked noise when you seal your teeth in a ring over his neck and bite down. Not quite enough to hurt, you don't think, just enough to satisfy the weird part of you that's sparking for the urge to maim. "Archons, scourge."

Oh dear. His voice has gone all strangled and weak. You dare to release one of his wrists to cup the back of his neck, holding him still, brushing the feathery down of hair on his nape. Automatically, his free hand flies for you, but it stops short, hovering as if unsure.

You can almost feel him weighing his choices in his mind. He has a hand free, and you're not even looking at him. Even if he can't beat you outright, he'd do alright with the element of surprise. He could definitely knock you spinning and flee before you get your bearings.

You wait. Count the fast thuds of Childe's pulse against his neck. The muscles in his free arm go limp, and he wraps it around your waist to pull you closer.

Figuring you're done pretending, you skim your lips up his neck and jaw before catching his mouth in a hard, bruising kiss. Childe moans, softly, into your mouth, hand clenching hard over the fabric of your waist before sliding under. His fingers span out over the small of your back, worn leather and warm flesh, and you shudder despite yourself.

His lips are chapped, and you can taste blood still oozing from the split in the plush lower one. "Someone's sensitive," you gloat, and he huffs. "Not had time to get laid here?"

"What can I say?" Childe's breezy tone would be more believable it it wasn't coming out so strangled. "Been a busy guy. Don't seem to have time for m-many... simple pleasures."

"You always seemed to find time to annoy me, though," you say darkly.

"Less of a luxury, more of a need," Childe breathes. "You make just the most interesting faces when you're irritated."

"Yeah? That get you all wet?"

Childe laughs weakly. "Scourge, please. I'm but a blushing virgin. You'll burn my poor ears off."

You shoot an obvious glance down to the tent straining against Childe's slacks. "I can well believe that."

He squirms in embarrassment, the tips of his ears lighting up scarlet. His eyes blink up at you, the usual lusterless blue fleeing in wake of reflecting the thousands of stars above you, and he seems to glow from the inside out, for a moment. The coppery blood on his face catches the moonlight.

A tongue flicks out to wet his lips, a dog wetting its snout. "Won't you take pity, scourge?" he pleads. "You got me well and truly at your mercy. You win. So..."

Before you can stop to consider the ramifications of your actions, your free hand has already scrambled to his belt buckle. Childe's breath catches, eyes widening as he registers your movements as the brass clinks in the silence. For a moment there's nothing but the hasty shuffling of clothing as you shuck Childe's dirt-streaked trousers down his thighs, his hips lifting to assist. There's a small furrow between his brows, his cheeks alight with a blush that makes his freckles sing against his skin.

The skin of his thighs catches, milk-white in the moonlight. Even here, scars have made their home, pink or bruise-dark, crisscrossing over the flesh in railroads. You get his trousers down past his knees before you stop bothering; he's left in dark underclothes, erection so stiff it's pulling the thin fabric taut, and the slit in his shirt that you've always found obscene betrays the quick, shallow bursts of his breath.

His throat flexes when he swallows. "Are you really going to—mmmgh!"

Childe sputters to a halt with a rather embarrassing high-pitched noise as you cup him through his boxers. You roll your palm experimentally over the tip of the tent, and his eyes flutter shut, rolling back against his skull with a pretty, desperate noise. This side of him is so foreign, but so familiar, so obvious, you wonder why you didn't think of it before.

"Ah, fuck," Childe swears, already sounding breathless. With how obvious he's always been, the lazy slide of his eyes, you'd assumed he had at least some experience—but maybe your teasing just a moment ago was a little more on the nose than you'd anticipated. He's unusually sensitive. "Scourge, I don't—"

"Stop calling me that," you mutter, pulling the fabric of his underwear till it strains against his cock, and he swallows back a gasp, spine arching against the dirt. "Did you want something?"

"You're so cruel," he whines. "Y/n, Archons, please—"

"Alright, alright, you big baby," you sigh, shedding his soaked underwear. Childe shudders, thighs tightening under you as he hits the cold air. The strain of his arousal and the chafing fabric is obvious; pre drips eagerly from the reddish tip, and he fits neatly into your palm when you swipe over the leaking hands before wrapping your fingers around him. Childe jolts into the touch, cursing under his breath, and as you start to jerk him off his lashes flutter. His blue eyes roll to the heavens and his head thumps against the earth with a long, shaky moan.

The night fills with noise, somewhere between what you find obscene and what sends heat rushing between your own legs as your fist pumps lazily up his length. Childe is more receptive than you would've put money on, gasping and swearing, hiccuping small, wounded noises in the back of his throat. His brow is scrunched, lips slack and wet with saliva, eyes screwed shut. His hips jump like they have a brain of their own.

You squeeze, prompting a panicked noise; Childe's eyes fly open and find your sly smile. "You look pretty," you tell him. Childe goes scarlet.

"W-wha?" he dredges up intelligently, frowning. "Why'd you—what?"

You find it funny that you've literally got your hand around his cock, but calling him pretty is apparently what crosses the line in flustering him. You cock your head, grinning.

"You don't think?" you coo. "I think you're lovely like this. I never realised how attractive you'd be once you shut your mouth. Maybe I should beat you in a fight more often."

"W-wouldn't complain," Childe pants, still alight with a feverish blush.

"I'm sure," you say noncommitally. "You fucking whore."

Childe moans, loud and shameless, and his free hand flails to scratch his nails down his own skin. "D-don't stop, fuck, don't stop—"

You stare at the scarlet railroads left on the pale skin of his stomach, and with your free hand yank up his shirt to his chest. Childe lets out a startled sound, looking at you with round, surprised eyes. His torso is littered with scars, raised and pale and dark against freckled skin. He is pretty. You love the marks of his exertions and pains, a history of his losses mapped out over his body. One of his nipple has a healed slash running right through it; when you reach up and tweak it, Childe shudders.

"Anyone would think you like losing," you murmur.

Childe looks at you weakly, crying out when your hand resumes at a faster pace. "Like it when—hnn—when it's real. I like it when they don't hold back. 'S why I'm just—hah!—e-enamoured with you, I guess."

"'Cause I'm ruthless?" you quip.

Childe flutters his lashes. "Nice enough to let me come, I hope," he says sweetly, and it makes your cheeks burn momentarily with embarrassment, the brazenness of his statement. "I'm not above begging."

"I liked you better when you were quiet," you mutter, and swipe your thumb hard over the slit. Childe yelps, muscles melting like butter, and when you start rubbing cruelly like you've found some sort of button his face flames, his mouth drops open, and he lets out a wailing noise, legs thrashing.

"Archons," he keens, but with your free hand you seize and handful of his hair and pull, hard.

"No Archons," you snarl. "Just me."

Tears prick at the corners of Childe's eyes as he rolls his hips to meet your unrelenting strokes, whimpering. "Y-yes, yeah, just you, just you, do that again."

You oblige, dig your fingers into the red hair so deep your nails scrape his scalp, and tug. The tears spill over Childe's lashline as he chokes on the moan that bursts from him at the movement.

"Keep it there," he begs, thighs shaking. "Pleasepleaseplease—"

"You close?" you ask innocently. "Already?"

There's no more pretence; the fine line of pleasure and pain seems to have wrought Childe down to only basic instincts, as his hips roll against your hand as you fist his length rough and quick, head tipped right back against the ground, exposing the heaving column of his throat. The toned concave of his stomach flexes with each punched-out breath, the scars coiling and elongating respectively.

"Please," Childe sobs in answer. "I'll be good, be real good, I'm close..."

You surge forward, digging your face into Childe's neck as you speed up your pace, and sink your teeth into the soft skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Hard enough for blood to bubble under your lips, hard enough for Childe to let out a strangled scream as he comes all over your hand, spilling over your fingers and his stomach in pearly arcs.

He's panting when you pull back, winces as you dislodge your teeth and unwind your fingers from his hair. He touches the bite mark with a wince and hiss, examining the blood on his fingers with light interest. It really shouldn't surprise or arouse you nearly as much when he dips them into his mouth and licks them clean.

"Degenerate," you tell him. Childe smiles crookedly, the flush on his face still stark red.

"There's this old saying about a pot and a kettle," he says, voice still weak and shaky.

The bite mark is leaking. As he reaches for you, you get the fleeting thought that it will leave another scar to add to his masses, another permanent trophy of another loss.

A loss to you.

And you smile.

[kpop---scenarios]

Charmer (3)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader x Surprise!

Genre: FWB, EX FWB, Semi Enemies to Lovers

Warning: Small smut & stuff.. [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT READ]

Word Count: 1.6k

Taglist: @oddracha @iovecb97 @katsukis1wife @stay-tiny-things @rubytakemyhandx23 @hyunjinhoexxx @iikxstcenn @beebee18 @kissesmellow21 @skzooluvr @felixthemochicat @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @yaorzu-blog @jisunglyricist @lunearta

@gloriajovicc @jiminssluttyminx

One | Two

“Baby.” Minho whispers as he walks into your room. You sit up in your bed, tears stained on your cheeks and shirt. “Were you crying?” He asks, placing his fingers under your chin to lift your head. You stare at him with blood shot eyes as you sniffle.

“I was.” You whisper.

“Why?” He asks.

“You didn't break up with her.” You whisper again. “You told me you did. But you looked directly at me while you announced your girlfriend.”

“Don't cry about that, Kitten.” He smiles. “I'm here now, let me take care of you.” He finishes, leaning into you, pressing his lips to yours. You should have pushed him off and told him no. But instead you melted into the kiss and pulled him onto the bed with you. He lays between your legs, his body pinning you to the bed as his hands roam down to your legs and back up. He slides his hand up your pj dress, feeling the heat radiating from your cunt.

“Always so needy for me.” He chuckles, sitting up to unbuckle his pants, pulling his cock out. “It's gonna have to be quick tonight.” He says, as he pushes himself into you. You wrap your legs around his waist as he grunts loudly, thrusting into you harder. He drops his head, kissing your shoulder and then your neck before he bites your shoulder, making you gasp, bucking your hips into his movements. “Oh fuck.” You cry out as he slams into you, breathing heavily on top of you, focusing on thrusting as hard as he can into you. Your hands move under his shirt digging your nails into his back as he cums, spilling his seed inside you. He pulls out of you, tucking himself back into his jeans before standing up, fixing his hair.

“I didn't even cum?” You say.

“I'm sorry kitten, like I said, it had to be quick. I'll call you, Kay?” He smiles, ruffling your hair as he walks out of your room and out of your apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. You roll out of bed, heading to your shower feeling even worse than you did before he had come over.

Once your shower was done, you crawled back into your bed, sobbing yourself to sleep.

The next morning you're up early and ready to go for the day. You were meeting Jeongin and Jihyo at this cute little breakfast Cafe before your first morning class. You slide into your chair as Jeongin is in the middle of a story. He glances at you and smiles, turning back to Jihyo before whipping his head back to look at you, his eyes trailing down to your bare shoulder.

“Y/N.” He says. “What is that?” He asks, pointing to your shoulder.

“I.. um.” You pause.

“You didn't.. Y/N. Please tell me you didn't.” Jihyo gasps.

“Didn't what?” You ask, trying to act like you didn't know what they were about to say.

“You let him back in, didn't you?” Jihyo asks.

Your head drops, you look down at the ground, hearing the sound of a chair scratch against the floor. You look up, only to see Jeongin standing there, glaring at you. "Why would you do that, y/n? Like come on." He sighs, walking out, leaving his uneaten breakfast sitting on the table.

Jihyo sits there, just staring at you, while you look around uncomfortably to try and make sure no one had noticed the commotion at the table.

Jihyo leans in to whisper. "You can't be that stupid, y/n?”

You can feel a lump in your throat get bigger and your nose start to sting. The breakfast you’d long lost your appetite for got blurry, until finally, tears slipped from your eyes, rolling down your cheek. "You don't understand." You cry. "He does love me.. he just needs time to say it.”

“Yn..,” Jihyo whispered back, “If he loved you, he would tell the world wouldn’t he? I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this, because I love you. But, you’re not his girlfriend. You’re not his love. People who love you want to tell others how they love you. They show it.. everyday.”

"He shows it!" You snap, ripping your hand away. "Just because you don't see when he shows it doesn't mean it's not real. He's shy, he shows me when we're alone. He's just using Jennie to make me jealous." You scoff.

“Will you listen to yourself? Do you hear what you just said? Make you jealous?” Jihyo almost yells. “Yn…. No one should ever want to make you jealous. They should want to make you secure.”

"Then why does he keep texting me at night? If he didn't love me he wouldn't want to see me at all.” You say. He loves you. You knew he did. You thought.. well you hoped he did.

“Y/N.. babe, no. That’s not true. He does it because he knows he's got you wrapped around his finger. And because it’s a game to him. He wants to see how far he can push you for his own sick pleasure.” Jihyo says, getting up from the other side of the table to scoot in next to you on your side of the booth. “He’s always testing you. And you always pass because you give him what he wants - complete access to you and your body. For how long though? What happens when he gets bored?”

"It's been over two years." You laugh. "If he was gonna get bored he would have already. Not to mention he keeps coming back to me when he has Jennie. Why's that, huh? Because he loves me. He's just afraid to show it.”

“Afraid of what?.” She asks.

"He's afraid of admitting his feelings for me.. that's all. Because when he does it becomes real.” You whisper.

“But he can admit them to Jennie and a roomful of people?” She says. “I want you to know I love you. Jeongin and I, love you. But you have got to love yourself too. This isn’t healthy. He is not healthy for you.”

"I just.. Why can't he love me? Why can't he treat me the same way he treats her? What's so wrong with me that I can't be loved by anyone?” You cry, burying your face in your hands.

“It’s not you. It's never you!” You felt Jihyo’s arms pull you into her chest as your tears break free.

“I don’t know what or who made you feel like you’re worth nothing more than your body but you are so much more than that. I promise you.” She cries with you, holding you tighter and closer to her as you sob into her.

“What do I do, Ji?” You ask, sitting up while you wipe your tears.

“First, block his number.” She begins. “Next, therapist.”

You chuckle.

“You laugh, but I'm telling you, it'll do wonders for you.” She smiles. “And when you're ready, I have the perfect person to set you up on a date with.”

You nod your head before laying it on her shoulder. You ignored the stares from the other diners as she soothes you while you try to breathe through your emotions. You knew you needed to be done with Minho. You weren't sure if you even believed the words that came out of your mouth to defend him. But he could be just so charming, and you fell for it everytime. The charmer who was the devil in disguise.

It was weird. It had been a week since you had blocked Minho's number, and you missed him beyond words. You missed everything about him, and you needed something, or someone to finally fill that void for you, which was why you were currently getting ready for a date with the guy Jihyo wanted to set you up with. She had told you he was very attractive, funny, sweet and would not treat you how Minho has. You were nervous, in the last two years a bit, you hadn't been with anyone else other than Minho, even in your off stages, you still remained faithful to him, which you're realizing was a giant mistake on your part. As you finish doing your last few touches, you leave your apartment, hailing a cab to meet him at the restaurant.

You walk in, glancing around at all the couples sitting there, enjoying their night but you have yet to see anyone sitting by themselves.

“Can I help you?�� The hostess asks.

“I'm meeting someone..um my name is Y/N.” You say.

Her face perks up. “Right this way please, the other party has already arrived.” She smiles, leading you to a table by the windows, with an extremely attractive man sitting there. Your jaw almost dropped at the sight of him, Jihyo didn't tell you his face was model like?

“Y/N?” He asks, standing up to greet you.

“Hi, yes.” You smile, sitting down in the chair he offers you. “Chris, right?”

“Yeah! Or you can call me Chan. Most people do.” He chuckles.

“Well it's nice to meet you Chan.” You grin. you feel like you can't take your eyes off of him.

Holy fuck.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. I have to admit, Jihyo told me you were pretty but..” he pauses.

Your stomach drops. You're not his type, are you?

“You're absolutely stunning. She severely down-played you.” He says, his eyes beginning to redden from giving you such a compliment.

You cover your face, trying to hide your giggle and the blush that spreads across your face. “Well.” You begin. “She definitely down-played you as well.” You smile.

The rest of the night, neither of you can take your eyes off of each other, and for once, you're finally not thinking of..whatever his name is.

[junedenim]

everything is romantic

an island getaway

warnings: smut, fluffy fluff, blowjob, eating out, & the p goes in the v

word count: 6.6k

"Get off the computer!" Alex yelled from the other room.

"I'm not on my computer!" You yell back as you continue to type on your computer. 

The air was hot in the rented house. Alex had spent the past 20 minutes trying to figure out how to turn on the AC that the lessor advertised the place as having but had remained to be found. You weren't supposed to be working. That had been part of the rules set but it felt like emails hardly qualified in that category. You could easily be getting an email from your mother so is there really a difference, even if you are answering an email from your boss?

"Get off the computer!" His voice was nearer this time, closer to the bedroom, but still in the hallway.

"Shush!" You sound back.

You hear his feet padding into the room and you don't try to hide what you're doing. You both knew what you were doing. "What do I see here? You're on your computer."

You momentarily pause to turn around in your chair to look at him. A trickle of sweat lines him, which doesn't help cool you down by any means. His hair is messed about meaning he definitely did not find the thermostat and was pulling his hair out over not finding the thermostat. "I'm just emailing Coco and then I'll be done." Coco, your insufferable boss. You didn't mind her, you quite liked her compared to previous bosses. Alex hated her guts. You might as well have been handcuffed to your laptop these past months.

"Why didn't you just ask Coco to come with us if you were going to email her the whole time?"

He's annoyed. You're a bit annoyed too but responding to an email is nothing, especially since you weren't planning to do anything today anyway. To Alex, doing nothing today was kind of the point. 

You roll your eyes and turn back to the laptop. Alex moves closer, he leans his arms down onto the desk, trapping you in your seat. His mouth slides up against your ear. "No emails."

"Just this one. Okay?" You promise. Well, lie.

"I don't believe you." He kisses your neck. It's slow and teasing. He's messing with you—creating an itch that needs to be scratched. He itches his way down. "You're not even out of your airport clothes?" You're still dressed in jeans and even Alex has changed into shorts. He kisses your collarbone before reaching down to the ends of the white blouse you're wearing and pulling it up. Your arms block him from taking it off all the way but that doesn't prevent him from squeezing your bra-covered boob.

"Alex, come on," you urge.

His non-boob-squeezing hand reaches around you and shuts the laptop. "It's vacation time." You sigh and give in then. He pushed the cup of her left boob down and started playing with its nipple. It's a weakness. He fiddles with it. You often joke he is trying to turn the volume up by the way he turns it and by the way you moan louder from it. He mouths away at your neck, slowly, teasingly, skillfully going at it.

"Aren't you hot? I'm hot," Alex says. You quickly oblige to what he's hinting at and raise your arms for him to pull off your blouse all the way. He takes his shirt off too, something he probably would have done eventually because of the heat. 

His chest has a sheen of sweat over it that makes you want to lick him. Is that crazy? To picture him as some human popsicle? He is what you need to quench your thirst. The cold beverage in this boiling bungalow. You both want to take a bite of him and watch him melt. You figure he's too tasty to be ignored, so you rush out of your chair and down onto your knees.

The perk of him changing out of his airport outfit and there is no need to work a belt off of him. You're quick in your unbuttoning of his blue Bermuda shorts. You don't bother to push down his shorts or underwear, instead electing to reach into his underwear to grab his cock. You're wrapping your hands around it when he quips, "I'll give you a job to do."

You start giggling at his penis before looking up to see him peering down at you with a chuckle. It makes you laugh more. You duck your head into his lower stomach to hide your laughter. It redistributes it into Alex's body, vibrating its way up his spine. 

His fingers thread through your hair in a shared reassuring matter but also slightly urging you to attend to his hard dick, still in your hand. You lift your head and gaze up at him with a slight remaining giggle before kissing his tip slowly. The remaining smile you have turns him on more and with his hand still in your hair, he pushes the back of your head urging you forward more.

You accept his request and wrap your lips around his cock. You take all of him in, wetting his cock, so you can easily rub your hand up and down. You stare up at him. You like doing it when you're blowing him and he really likes it when you do it. Each time you place him in your mouth, his eyes flutter making you wetter with each blink. When he hits the back of your throat, your eyes close tight before you pop off of him, you open your eyes wide, and bat your lashes. Then, you do it all over again.

His hand tightens and releases around your hair several times with each moan that he can't help but utter. Alex is soft with you, not wanting to hurt you in any way. You gag around his cock and he pulls you off him and wordlessly bends down to kiss you.

He lays you down and follows you down onto the floor. The kisses get heavier as he lies on top of you. His hand grabs the side of your waist and yours are on the back of his head, keeping his lips on yours. 

Alex's hand travels down your side to your right leg. He urges the leg up and you wrap it around his back, pulling him into you. His hard cock rubs against the rough denim material covering your center. 

There's an urgency to this. Foreplay suffers in the need for completion on both of your ends. He unbuttons your jeans and begins to push them down. You break your kiss to help pull them off your legs, your panties following in tow. He lifts himself to pull them off your feet, turning the jeans inside out in the quickest rush to get them off. 

You pull Alex back on top of you at the first sign your jeans are off. Your lips are back on each other like they are attacking one another. You curl your left hand around the back of his neck, toying with the ends of his hair. 

He raises himself, halfway into a plank, and reaches down to line himself up. He enters slowly, just his tip, but you're in the need for haste. You curl your legs around his waist tightly and pull him close to you, therefore having him plunge deep. 

The quick sensation has you slamming your hands onto his back, hugging him down onto you. Alex lets out a deep moan right next to your ear. He bucks into quick, understanding what you both want. You're tight around him and it feels like he is in another world, lost in the feeling of being in you. 

He wasn't sure if it was you squeezing around him or the thought that you were on an island vacation that meant endless amounts of sex for a week. It wasn't a honeymoon, no matter how much your friends kept joking it was. There was a time, deep in childhood innocence, that you thought you would save yourself for marriage, mainly because boys were icky and if you had to do it at some point then your husband would probably be okay for that. You told him all this the first time you were together. Generally, it scared off men to know the women they picked up at a bar was talking about the sex that they would have on their wedding night, but it only endeared Alex to you. The cute way you had laid on your back, the white sheets tangled around you making you look like a bride. Your hair—short back then—scruffed up on the pillow. You talked with your hands, dancing them around the air, and telling a story with just them. Nothing was told in an expected way. 

You had no plans to spend a life with the guy from a bar you hooked up with. Then, he told you about how during the summer before he started secondary school he used to hide under his covers reading encyclopedias because he was nervous he wouldn't be smart enough. He had a buzzcut and laid on his stomach when he talked. He had looked restless at the bar but peaceful beside you. His arms were tucked under his pillow but later on, after all the sex when you were just telling stories, he draped an arm over your stomach. Warmth, Alex had always brought that.

The sex you were having now. This was the sex you dreamt of losing your virginity on your wedding night too. So, if it had to be your "honeymoon" sex then it was well-suited. You felt weak under him, like a shaken leaf from his branches. It sounded vaguely misogynistic when he said it, like you were Eve coming from Adam's rib even though that didn't make much sense because didn't Adam have to have a mother? Don't all children come from their mother's ribs? Alex liked thoughts like this that you had. He called them "sex thoughts" because you'd whisper them to him after the act. Most men would be offended by the thought that the woman they were fucking had the ability to think about Biblical figures during sex. Alex saw it as inspiring you.

He thrust deep, hitting the ridge in the back of you. "Fuck," you muttered. You tended to do that too. The babbling during sex. Your eyes roll back when he hits it again, another "Fuck" drops from your lips.

Then, he's teasing, taking himself out to his tip and then slamming back into you. "Holy fuck." That was always a good sign. 

Alex takes himself to the tip again. He holds himself there too long. You're whiny and desperate and reaching the end, orgasm in sight. You buck your hips up. It causes him to stumble, his elbows bend. His chest lands on you, suffocating you down. His cock deep, his heavy breathing and moans against your ear, his chest to your chest. You wrap your arms around him again and hold him to you. 

You roll your hips up making him moan a "Fuck" of his own. He raises himself up again to thrust deep into you. You stick two fingers into his mouth, tasting of the strawberries you made him stop to pick up on your way to the house. You slink your hand down to the space between his stomach and yours. He could feel the curve of her knuckle moving against him as you touched herself. His pace is getting messier. A clear sign of the impending finish.

"Alex," you whine.

"Yeah," he responds. He knows you're close. You're getting messy too. Your hips keep shuffling around and he tries to pin you with his own to keep you straight. Then, he lets out, "Fuck. I—uh, god, fuck."

He manages to get in a few more pumps, feeling you clench up and squeeze around him before he finally allows himself to release into you. You would throw your head back if it wasn't rested against the floor. Alex buries his in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, you grab a hold of the back of his head, clutching his hair roughly. 

He sinks deeply into you, out of breath, and tired from holding himself up the whole time. You love holding him back, but he's worried about squashing you to death. He pulls himself out of you and lies beside you. You're scattered toys on a child's playroom floor. You feel his cum leaking out of you, something you used to find gross, but now feels weird when he doesn't finish inside you. Sometimes, if it's his birthday or you're trying to cheer him up, you'll let him cum on your tits. He tells you he isn't sure if he enjoys it because you rarely do it or if he actually likes doing it. 

"I didn't even take my bra off." One of your bra cups was pulled down, exposing your boob, and, on the other side, the strap was pulled down, barely hanging onto your body.

"I didn't even take my shorts off." His shorts lay in a tangled blue puddle around his ankles, his underwear hanging an inch off the rest. 

"Well, you had a job to do." You both burst out laughing. The sun leaking through the windows feels nice.

*

Alex tied the knot in the back of your bikini. Why did he tie the knot in the back of your bikini? You're putting sunscreen on. The cream kind all over your arms. He's waiting for you to ask him to do your back. You already did his. Before he even stepped outside. He burns like a tomato and you seem to always get this golden tan that he will admit he'd be jealous of if you didn't look much better with it than he would.

You're talking about the email Coco sent you but he tends to tune out when Coco is mentioned these days and you're dressed in that white bikini. "Can you do my back?" Ding, ding, ding! 

He must look like a lunatic the way he jumps up from his chair to grab the lotion bottle out of your hand. You're not oblivious. Alex has confessed to this turn-on of his when you first started dating and you went to some Malibu beach together. His slowness in rubbing the lotion in made you ask him what was taking so long and he had answered, "I'm savouring it."

Alex is savouring it now. He was bordering on giving you a massage, which you can't complain about as he gives special attention to your shoulders. Then, he's placing kisses on her shoulder.

"I'm not having sex on the beach with you, bunny." Another confessed fantasy.

He whines, "Come on. Isn't that the whole reason why we picked this house? There's nobody here." The house was only a few yards from the beach and you were nervous at night that the tide might sweep the house away. True, you hadn't seen a single person since sitting out on the beach. However, sex on the beach was reserved for cocktails only.

"I thought we picked it for the balconies." That was your fantasy. Too many readings and watchings of Romeo & Juliet. If Alex could climb the pipes up to the balcony, you would cream yourself.

Alex stops his sunscreen rubbing and turns into your eyeline. "No, honey, you picked it for the balconies. I picked it for a week of naked you. Indoor, outdoor, house, ocean, sand, I could go on."

You laugh and shake your head. "I am not having sex in the sand. I'll be finding it up there for months."

"I'll do a good job."

"I don't doubt you would."

You had generally been against public sex ever since one night, early on in dating Alex when you got caught in a club bathroom. Alex was spared any embarrassment, having all his clothes on. You had your bare chest exposed. It had generally been kept in houses since then. Although, you did seem to cover most surfaces. Bed, bedroom floor, kitchen counters, kitchen floor, shower, bathroom counters, you could go on. Never the bathroom floor though, maybe you'll do that here. The bathroom is pretty big.

*

Alex's shirts are your generally preferred vacation outfits. He wasn't much bigger than you but his shirts hung loose and were breezy in the summer air. They made good cover-ups for swimwear. This one, blue and white striped, was your favourite. You wore jean shorts with it and cheap sandals as you strolled into the little town just off the way of the beach.

"I'd like to grow old in a place like this," you say. It's quaint and foreign. A little seaboard town. A place where no one knew them. Alex's fame wasn't much of a problem. You adjusted easily to it once you found out the level of it. Something that had surprised him, though he never told you that. You were young but past the point where you were worrying about zits and fake IDs. Settling down felt far away and close at the same. If Alex wanted to, you would. As long as you got to pick where you lived. 

Alex swings your hands in between you two. You both walk in short steps, taking in each piece of the town. You have a bounce in your step as you cheer about the town. "It seems like a place that would add 10 years onto your life," Alex adds. He had the thought that he was 10 years older than you. Does that mean he'd die first? He'd be fine with that. He thinks you have much more strength than him and could probably survive his death. If you were to die, he'd curl up into a ball in stay there. You'd probably grab martinis with friends after his funeral and he supports that.

"Fountain of youth. Although, isn't that supposed to be in Florida?" You wonder aloud.

"The fountain of youth is definitely not in Florida."

"Aren't I your fountain of youth?" You tease him. You did this often, teasing him over the age gap. It made him uncomfortable early on. Like he was taking advantage of you in some way. It made him feel particularly icky over a dinner where you had said, "Am I your sugar baby or something?" It was a joke but he was caught up in what you thought of him, what others thought of him. You had only been going out for a few weeks, not even officially dating yet. Then, when the check came around that night, you insisted on paying. Then, he felt ridiculous for ever taking your jokes as actual blows against him. They were more often than not just jokes about how old he was, which he could accept (most of the time).

No quip was returned before you dropped his hand and jumped up and down. "Ice cream!" Yeah, there might be a 10-year age difference but even Alex might jump up and down for ice cream. Well, ice cream with you licking the ice cream. He's horny first, human second.

Later, Alex and you sit in the ice cream parlour each equipped with an ice cream cone. The place has a singular small fan going, every 30 seconds you feel a slight gust of wind, which soothes your burning skin. "Ice cream is much better here than in America."

You had an impassioned hatred for America, which he never understood. You were American—well, mostly American—you had lived there your whole life—again mostly—your friends were America—again, again, mostly—you had met each other in America, fucked in America, fell in love in America, lived together in America, and, eventually, moved away from America. He thinks it has something to do with your mother.

He hums in agreement and settles at watching your tongue swish around the ice cream's tip, imagining scenes from earlier this morning. He is already biting into his cone. 

Alex leans closer, up against your ear, whispering, "You want to go to the bathroom?"

You pull back to look him in the face, gifting him an eye roll. "I may be younger than you, Alex, but I was potty-trained."

His hand, resting on the curve of your waist, yanks you toward him. "There's no one in here. No one to walk in."

"Yeah, except the one employee who is going to notice his only two customers go into the bathroom together. We're 5 minutes from the house, if you want to go back and have me suck you off we can do that." The 15-year-old boy at the counter looked harmless and would likely be too afraid to prevent them from doing anything but he would concede that you had a point.

"You're so romantic."

"You're the one who wants me to do you in the bathroom."

*

He watches you in the pool. When you returned to the house, you didn't do each other. With the same enthusiasm that you had for the ice cream, you shed your clothing racing for the pool. Your shirt of his lay at his feet, disappointingly not leading to a naked you. He grabs a fresh towel for you and watches you splash around. Cheering for him to watch, here's my front flip, back flip, handstand, front flip into back flip into handstand.

He watches 5 minutes of this before it becomes repetitive and he turns to the book he brought out to read. The sun shines perfectly on his book and perfectly on you. 

3 pages in something lands at his feet. A wet white bikini top. If this wet white bikini top is at his feet, then where is yours? His gaze moves slowly to the pool. You're acting oblivious, underwater, avoiding his eyes. When you come up, your back is to him. Turn around, turn around, turn around. 

You're slow. You've always been a teaser. His breath is slow, hitched in his throat. He has made a point not to move, not wanting to distract himself with the flick of his own wrist.

Then, suddenly, you turn quickly, slingshot a bunch of white fabric flying toward him. Plop! At his feet again, your swim bottoms. By the time his eyes have lifted from the bunch of clothing, you've already dove back underwater. His eyes trail over the blurry curve of your skinny-dipping body. This is vacation.

You know what you're doing. You come up on the side closest to him, propping your arms up on the pool's edge. Your nude body is completely blocked. Your hair is sleeked back, giving him a detailed drawing of your face that he only quite gets when your hair is wet. Pet back in the shower, sleeked back in the pool.

"What are we having for dinner?" You smirk at him. A siren. 

"Whatever you want." He can play along. Try his best to act uninterested despite the object hardening in his shorts.

"Do you want to eat out or in?" Your smile is a beam. A sight that happens often but not for more than a second before a burst of laughter. You've held it for 30 seconds now.

Alex looks down on his book. His eyes skim but he is pretty sure he can't even read the English language at this point. "Whatever you want." He prays for you to say in so they can order it, fuck, pay the delivery guy, fuck until the food is cold, reheat the food, fuck, eat, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I'm tired. Let's eat in. There should be takeaway menus in one of the kitchen drawers." You better not be tired.

"I'll go grab them after I finish this page." It should take about a decade for him to get through this page.

He hears a splash and looks up. You're back underwater, kicking your feet loudly. When you first got together, back during that rough buzzcut season of his life when he was in the perils of a near-mental breakdown and you were supposed to be a girl in a series of other girls until you weren't, Alex and you spent entire lifetimes out in his pool. You were relatively poor by comparison, sharing an apartment with 2 other people. No pool, no privacy. You joked with Alex sometimes that you'd never be together without those two things.

In those first few weeks, when the title of your relationship rested in the firmly sexual position, you'd do what you were doing now. The difference was Alex was usually in the pool with you, with equal nude-ship status. You fucked in the pool, multiple times. You fucked in the hot tub, multiple times. Now, he'd like to fuck in this pool or near it, he doesn't have to get wet, only you do.

"Water girl!" He yelled out. At the far end of the pool, you look behind your shoulder. The waves of the water shield any good view of your body. "Come here."

You push off the wall in his direction. Your hands wrap around the edge of the pool, hanging off of it. "Yes?"

"Come here." Alex gestures you out of the pool.

You bite your lip and sit your chin on the pool's edge. With a slight shake of your head, you say, "Too hot. Did you decide on dinner?"

"I didn't get the menus yet."

"Well, why don't you go do that?" You're manipulative and exploitative, dangling your body in front of him and snatching it away. 

Thinking the dinner menus might get you out of the pool, he shuts the unread book, and heads to the kitchen. It takes him about 3 drawers to find the stack of menus tucked in the back. He thinks tomorrow you both should go to the grocery store a couple of streets down and he'll cook dinner. You're a rotten cook. You lived off fruit, McDonald's, and the kindness of friends before you met him. If there is any time he does feel like a sugar daddy is when he is servicing you with meals. You attempted to cook a meal together once and you had sliced your hand within the first 5 minutes.

When he turns around, a blur passes through the kitchen. He glances down at the puddles of water across the wood-paneled floor. He abandons the menus in favour of chasing that blur. You're easy to catch up to, you've made your way to the living room. Alex stands at the archway, blocking you in.

You stand, dripping, in the corner of the room. Your arms are covered over your boobs. Your legs are slightly crossed at your ankles. "What's your next move here, Turner?" You ask teasingly.

He stands back, trying to remain intact and undeterred. He crosses his arms. "I'm the one with the exit. You, my friend, are trapped in."

You bite your bottom lip and shake your head. "I'm the one with the advantage."

"How's that?"

"No clothes weighing me down and you are a man with the inability to focus on anything when boobs are present." You drop your arms to your side. Boobs with water droplets running down the sides and perky nipples staring at him. 

Yes, he totally does get distracted by the boobs for a split second, but he is determined to stay resolute. He dashes across the room, eliciting a squeal from you before he even comes close to you. He reaches out trying to grab your slippery limbs. 

You're both laughing messes when he manages to curl an arm around your waist. Alex's stumbling and your weight makes you fall onto the couch. You scream. "We can't get the couch wet!"

His back lands on the couch preventing you from soaking the couch. Your wet hair lands in Alex's mouth as he says, "You want to do it on the floor again?"

"Can't we ever just do it in a bed?" His tight grip on you doesn't allow you to stand up, still stacked on top of him, despite your wriggling. 

"Not when you're running around wet and naked."

You're able to wriggle out of his grip and sit beside his lounging body on the couch. She smirks. "Why don't you hurry up and take your clothes off then?"

He shoves his shorts off pretty quickly after that command. With little hesitation, you straddle him, sinking onto him. That divine stretch has you unleashing a moan. He shivers from the chill you bring. You engulf him completely and lean down, scattering light kisses down his neck. 

You sit up, lifting yourself slowly and then dropping down quickly, similar to the way he slams into you when he's in control. You grind on him, back and forth, making him let out a growly moan. 

You place your hands on his upper chest. Your movements quicken and he places his hands lightly on your waist. He squeezes your skin when he moans. The sex itself is blurry like you running through the kitchen and his chase for his orgasm is short, already worked up from your teasing. Riding him often leads to a quickie. 

"Where do you wanna cum, huh?" You're sneering and flirty taunting smirk.

His eyes widen from their previous tightly shut state. "You're gonna let me cum on your tits?"

She nods. "Just don't get it in my hair." You say this every time. He never has but you still have this great fear of a drop getting into your hair.

After a few more bounces of friction, heat, skin-to-skin, and whimpering gasps, Alex urges you off of him. You promptly go down to your knees on the floor. Alex swings his legs onto the floor and reaches his climax too quick to stand up. A couple of pumps and ropes land on your chest. His aim is still on point. He throws his head back, resting it on the couch. You run your hand up his inner thigh in both a teasing and soothing manner. 

A beat passes before you stand up and peck his cheek. He blindly touches your elbow with a soft touch, trying to urge you to lie back down on top of him, chest-to-chest. 

You disconnect from him. "I'm gonna order dinner now!" He's completely spent and you're energetically scurrying back over to the kitchen. At least, he can admire your back as you leave. And your ass, he doesn't appreciate your cute little butt enough.

*

You've got his shirt on again, except now there's no bra underneath. The first few buttons have been left open allowing him to see that sacred curve. The two of you sit, eating at a little table on the patio that overlooks the ocean. Your hair has grown lighter in the sun, bouncing rays off of it. It's messily dried from its former wet state, making it look like a light aura surrounds you.

"I'm going to bring out the bottle of wine," you announce, rising from your chair. It doesn't help matters that you're only wearing your underwear underneath the linen fabric.

His dressed state isn't much different than yours. His own loose-fitted, casually unbuttoned shirt. His sunglasses covering his eyes. That chain of his catching the sun. His hair was fluffy, always fluffy. You started calling him bunny after his hair had grown back. The way it flops around now reminds you of a bunny's ear.

You returned with the bottle, refilling the glasses you had been nursing. Alex had lit a cigarette while you were inside the house, the smoke exhaling from his lips in a spin that made you feel a lustful dizz.

You pluck the cig from in between his fingers, taking a drag of your own. He felt guilt that he had gotten you into the habit but you used to be one of those annoying people who carried around a vape and constantly hit it (god, he sounded old). He guesses taking a couple of drags of his cigarettes beats the damage that would have done. 

You stick out your hand toward the setting sun, tracing the horizon as the cigarette billows smoke from it. "I wish we had this view all the time." The sky was a blue fading into a purple disappearing into a pinkish orange. It felt like a painting before you.

"Yeah, me too," he says. Your eyes dash over to look at him. His sunglasses are off and his eyes are on you. His irises looked honey-coloured with the way the remaining golden light hit them. 

You give him a crooked smile. "You get me all the time," you point out.

"Not as much as I want," he wishes. He lifts his hand and motions to you. "Come here."

You giggle. "Me or the cigarette?"

He chuckles. "Both of you." 

You hand the cigarette over and he takes it away from you and grabs your hand. You stand up, pick up your wine, and follow the tug from that hand. You land on his lap and his arm, once holding your hand, curls around you.

You sit peacefully watching the sunset. Alex takes slow puffs of his smoke and you wrap your arms loosely around his neck and rest your head on his chest. The air is quiet. You don't think you've ever been in a place this quiet, the only sound being Alex's heart beating against your ear. 

He drops the cigarette into the ashtray. With his newly freed hand, he runs it down your sternum into the shirt's opening. He goes up the hill and holds the soft skin of your left boob. "You feeling me up already?" You question.

You admire his profile. You think people should chisel statues out of it. Like David or atop Mount Rushmore. He's more good-looking than any dead president or Biblical king. His head shifts over to you, not able to fully look at you due to your head being on his shoulder. "Just keeping it there for warmth," he whispers. You giggle and tilt your head to kiss his jaw softly.

He doesn't make any moves to move things further, instead, he just sits there with you watching the setting sun.

*

You're in bed when he gets out of the shower—still, dressed in that shirt and that underwear. Good. Easy access. You've brought your computer to bed though, which doesn't help matters. He tries to mask a groan at the thought you're emailing Coco.

You turn your laptop around showing a map. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go for a hike. There's a little trail a short drive away." 

Hike? You want to hike? Your athletic activity had generally been limited to sex and playing mermaid in the pool. When he met you he was probably at his fittest and you joked that he was a gym rat with a particular focus on the rat part. You'd be in the middle of sex, riding him, his hands would be on your waist, guiding you, and you would reach down and wrap your hand around his biceps. He had smirked thinking a compliment was coming when you jabbed, "Are you on steroids?" 

It had all been jokes. You liked working out. Well, you liked watching him work out. Sweaty and spent looked good on him, not on you. You're happy to play cheerleader.

"Sure," he agreed, slipping on boxers. You rapidly clapped your hands delightedly, pulling the computer back onto your lap.

Alex turned the overhead light off and the room was dark beside your bedside lamp and the glow of your laptop. You had left the window open a crack, the ocean breeze drifting in, making the curtains blow around. 

He carefully crawled into bed beside you. He is almost certain his back got sunburned, despite the copious amounts of lotion you applied to it, multiple times. He looks over at your screen, no longer on a map, but emailing Coco. "Come on, no work!"

"I saved it for the end of the evening," you reason.

"If you're going to email on vacation they should have given you paid leave." You conceded he had a point. But you were still going to finish this email.

You type away and Alex disappears under the covers. Suddenly, you feel a kiss on your ankle. You suppose you were too distracted to notice him inch his way down to the foot of the bed. "Alex," you say in an attempt to deter him, even though you don't really want to deter him. 

He kisses the side of the knee, creeping up closer and closer and closer. Then, your inner thigh. You shake with anticipation at his next move, but he stops there. He kisses the same space again. Then, your other thigh. "Alex," you say more as a plea than your prior attempt.

He seems to give a little then, kissing your center over your underwear. He's delicate with it. A soft kiss, slowly making his way up your cunt. Your toes curl in wanting and waiting. He dances around your clit. "Alex."

He slides your panties over to the side, kissing your clit directly making you moan. "You're wet," Alex notes. His voice is muffled under the sheets. "You're emailing Coco while you're this wet. Is there something I should know?"

You roll your eyes. You're eager. You went down on him today, you rode him today, you let him cum on your tits. Usually, Alex is better than you in the pleasing department. You're selfish and he worships pussy. "You should know that I want you to get on with it."

"Close the laptop." A haggler. You give and shut the laptop, placing it on your bedside table.

You lift the covers off his head to reveal his grinning face. "Your turn, Turner."

"Good one," he says and then he's sucking on your clit and you're clutching the bedsheets. His tongue showing your clit special attention tonight. You tug on the sheets and to prevent them from ripping, you switch to rooting them in his hair.

He starts humming against you, which vibrates through you. You would hate that he knows your body so well if he wasn't so good at pleasing it. He licks down and his tongue pokes at your entrance. His nose hits your clit, another thing that has you moaning. You wish you could fuck his nose. It's a weird thought but it makes sense when it hits your clit. You buck up into his face. It makes him smirk but he doesn’t let up. Only quickens.

Alex starts strongly fucking you with his tongue. You think he should worry about hair loss considering how hard you're yanking his hair. He hugs your thighs, pushing against your hips that keep rutting relentlessly.

It's easy for him to tell that an orgasm is on the horizon. Your legs start to shake and you're moaning, "Fuck, Alex, fuck." Your favourite expletive. You bring your legs to the back of his neck, crossing them, keeping him locked into your cunt. He doesn't let up for a moment, even if you weren't there pushing him down, he wouldn't let up. 

Your back arches up and you're gasping and moaning and he might cream his own underwear from the whole thing. You squeeze him to you tightly and he doesn't let up, leading him to overstimulation. "Alex, no more. Too raw."

Alex doesn't stop but turns soft. Little kisses around your clit that causes random rutting of your hips into his face. He fixes your panties, covering your cunt back up. He gives a kiss to the tiny bow on the top of your underwear. A little pink thing in the middle of the lace. He starts to kiss your body but you just feel utterly spent. You stop him when he attempts to unbutton your shirt. You tell him, "Too tired. We'll fuck tomorrow."

He kisses your belly button, then your shirt-covered boob, then your cheek, before rolling over to his side of the bed onto his back. You adjust your pillow and turn to lay on your stomach next to him. "I'll wake you up with a blowjob or something."

Alex grins. "A blowjob wake-up? You know how to please, woman." His hand snakes down your back and squeezes your ass. He toys with the lining of your underwear but makes no attempts to move it. "You've got a cute little butt, you know."

[wholoveseggs]

~♡~Dating the Mikaelsons~♡~

One-Shot Edition

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

♡A date with Klaus♡

After a long day at work, you just want to go home and relax. Fortunately Klaus knows exactly what you need to unwind.

In celebration of getting to one-hundred followers♡ I wrote some smutty one-shots based on my dating the mikaelsons headcanons.

♡ Thanks for all the love and support ♡

Warnings: smut, rough sex, biting, blowjobs, rim jobs, all the jobs...I firmly believe Klaus loves booty.

{Part Two -Kol} ♡ {Part Three - Marcel} ♡ {Part Four - Elijah}

After an exceedingly long day, exhaustion had fully seeped into your bones, leaving you feeling burdened and emotionally numb. Exiting your workplace, you headed towards your car, desperate to get home and relax. Rifling through your bag for your keys, you extracted them along with a neatly folded piece of paper.

Intrigued, you unfolded it, revealing a charming sketch of your profile gazing out of a café window. The guy you were seeing must have snuck it into your bag. You smiled, the thoughtfulness of it warming your heart. You pulled out your phone, sending him a thank-you text.

You

"I found your drawing, thank you. I've had a tough day, and this made it a bit better."

Nik

"Which one?"

You paused. There had been multiple drawings? You hadn't seen anything else in your bag. You typed back a quick reply.

You

"There was more than one?"

Nik

"Maybe..."

You unlocked your car, climbing into the seat, closing the door behind you, and pulling your bag onto your lap.

Sure enough, there were several more folded pieces of paper. You pulled them all out and unfolded them. The first was an intricate study of the hands of a man and woman, fingers laced together, palms touching. The second was a silly doodle of you, looking grumpy and flipping off the viewer.

You giggled. It was actually a great likeness. The next one made you blush and look around. It was an illustration of the two of you, nude, kissing in an intimate position. Your face was obscured by his, but the details were quite erotic.

Your body flushed at the thought of him touching you; you hadn't even kissed yet, let alone seen each other naked.

You

"I found the other ones, very creative," 

Nik

"I'm glad you like them, are you busy tonight?"

You paused. What did he want to do? You had planned on vegging out and watching some mindless television. But that sounded incredibly dull.

You

"No, why?"

Nik

"Good. I'll pick you up,"

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat, feeling the butterflies in your stomach start to flutter. You had a feeling you were going to be staying up late.

You had no idea where he was taking you; Klaus hadn’t given you any hints, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he had planned.

You were sitting in the car with him, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. It was a beautiful evening, the sky painted a brilliant hue of purple and blue.

You glanced over at him, admiring how attractive he was. You knew that he was a vampire, a powerful one at that, but you didn't mind. You had known others, and none of them were dangerous. At least not to you.

"I thought we could take a walk; I want to show you some of my favorite places," he said as he drove.

"I would love to see them," you replied, smiling at him.

He parked the car, and the two of you climbed out, making your way down the street. It was a clear night, the air crisp and refreshing, and you could hear the sounds of traffic and the chatter of people from a distance.

Klaus walked close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours every few steps. His presence was soothing, and you felt comfortable with him. He casually took your hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours.

You looked up at him and smiled. He returned the smile, squeezing your hand.

"This is the park I like to draw in," he explained. "It's quiet, and the light is beautiful in the morning."

The two of you walked, talking and enjoying the view. He seemed to know a lot about the city and pointed out different buildings, sharing stories from his past.

You found yourself growing more and more attracted to him, the more he shared about himself.

"What was it like here, one hundred years ago?" you asked.

"It was different, but not that much. There were fewer people, and the buildings weren't as tall. It was quieter, I suppose."

You nodded, enjoying the sound of his voice. You loved hearing him talk; his accent was so alluring. You walked in silence for a while, and then he led you over to a bench, and the two of you sat.

"Can I tell you a secret?" he asked.

"Of course." you replied, giving him a gentle smile.

"I love this city; I helped make it what it is, but as time passes, sometimes I feel like I'm a stranger here."

You nodded, understanding, "You must see time so differently from me," you mused. "I can't imagine how it must feel."

He was silent for a moment, his eyes staring out into the darkness.

"It can be lonely," he said, finally. "But with you, I don't feel that way."

You intertwined your fingers with his, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. He leaned in, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. His touch sent a shiver through you, and you found yourself wanting him.

You leaned forward, capturing his lips with yours. He kissed you softly, his lips warm and inviting. You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. His hands wandered, caressing your back, and tangling in your hair.

You broke the kiss, looking into his pretty blue eyes, "Do you want to show me your place?" you asked, your voice a breathy whisper.

His eyes flashed, a smirk spreading across his face, "It would be my pleasure."

He took your hand, leading you back to the car. The drive to his place was filled with a heavy silence, both of you knowing what was about to happen.

You had seen the outside of the compound many times, but you had never been inside before; it was gorgeous, the décor was expensive and tasteful.

"Wow, your home is beautiful," you remarked, your heels clicking against the floor.

"Thank you," he said, smirking. "I decorated it myself."

The compound was quiet; everyone else was out or asleep. You followed him into his room, your heart racing.

He closed the door, turning to face you. He reached out, cupping your cheek. His touch was gentle and loving, his eyes filled with tenderness.

"You are so lovely," he murmured, his thumb stroking your skin.

You blushed, the heat rising in your cheeks. You placed your hands on his chest, running them up to his shoulders, feeling his muscles beneath his shirt.

You stepped closer, closing the distance between you. Your lips brushed against his, and you kissed him.

He wrapped his arms around you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You pressed your body against his, feeling his hardness.

He pulled away, his eyes flashing yellow. He picked you up, carrying you over to the bed, laying you down gently. He climbed on top of you, his mouth trailing kisses along your neck and collarbone.

He lifted the dress off of you, tossing it aside. You laid there in nothing but your underwear, his gaze raking over your body.

"Nik," you breathed, your voice full of need.

He leaned down, his mouth on your breast, his tongue swirling over your nipple. You moaned, arching your back. You gasped, feeling his fingers sliding down your abdomen, and under the waistband of your panties.

"I've wanted this for so long," he whispered, his hands caressing your skin.

"So have I," you replied, lifting your head and pressing your lips to his.

His fingers circled your clit, eliciting moans from your lips. You closed your eyes, his touch was quickly driving you crazy, pushing you to the edge. He watched your face, a wicked grin on his lips.

"How do you like it, love?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive as his lips grazed your skin. 

You blushed, heat pooling between your legs. "I like it a little rough," you breathed, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

"I always suspected you were a naughty girl," he whispered, as he nibbled at your ear. You gasped, pleasure coursing through you.

He began to move down your body, leaving a trail of soft bites and kisses. He paused at your breasts, sucking on your nipples, his tongue swirling around them. You moaned, squirming beneath him.

He continued down, his teeth grazing your skin. He hooked a finger under your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. You were completely exposed to him now, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Just beautiful," he breathed, as he dragged his teeth along your inner thigh.

He moved lower, kissing and licking your stomach. His hand slipped between your legs, his thumb grazing your clit.

"Nik," you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as he moved further down. 

He removed his hand, his tongue taking its place. He licked and sucked on your clit, his hands pushed your thighs up, giving him more room. You bucked your hips, grinding against his mouth.

He chucked, the vibrations causing a wave of pleasure to course through you. He pushed his tongue inside of you, moving it in and out, his nose grazing your clit.

You moaned, your hands tangling in his curly hair. "Fuck," you breathed, as his tongue drove you closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue moved lower than you expected, teasing your ass. Your eyes widened, a thrill of strange pleasure running through you, your hips jumped and you instinctively tried to push away from him. 

"Mmm, love," he whispered, "you like when I do that, don’t you?"

You blushed, heat rising in your cheeks. You nodded, biting your lip.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," you whimpered, your head falling back against the pillow.

He returned his tongue to your ass, teasing and probing it, sending sparks of pleasure through you. Pressing his thumb firmly against your clit, Klaus maintained a rhythm that matched the dance of his tongue. Circles and teasing strokes sent waves of pleasure through you, the combination of sensations leaving you breathless, gripping the sheets as you trembled underneath him. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he pushed his tongue in your ass just as he lightly pinched your clit and you cried out, your whole body shaking from the force of your orgasm.

You were spent and panting, gripping Klaus’s hair so hard you nearly tore it out. He chuckled and buried his face deeper in your ass, groaning in pleasure. He swirled his fingers around your clit, feeling how wet you were before he pushed two fingers inside your pussy, hitting your sweet spot.

"Fuck!" you moaned, unable to believe how good it felt. He smiled and continued his assault, pumping his fingers in and out while keeping his mouth busy. His grip on you was almost painful as he held your hips in place, burying his face between your cheeks, his tongue deep inside you. 

The soft, wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of your pussy mingled with his labored breathing. He pushed them in deeper, fucking you harder, each thrust making you moan uncontrollably. You were in a state of pure ecstasy, your whole body tingling, every inch of you vibrating with pleasure. You could feel his groans and grunts reverberating through you, and you pushed against him, desperate for more. 

The pressure built inside you until you felt like you were about to explode. You pulled on his hair, pushing back against him with everything you had as you reached your climax. Your whole body trembled as you came, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pure bliss. The sound of his groans as he devoured you filled the room, adding to your ecstasy.

You slumped against the bed, a trembling wreck. Klaus withdrew, leaving you feeling empty, but sated. He wiped his mouth and chin and grinned, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. He kissed his way back up your body, his hands caressing your skin.

"No one's ever done that for you before?" he asked, his eyes dark with desire.

You shook your head, blushing.

"Good," he replied, he hovered over you, giving you a mischievous grin. Your fingers trailed down his chest then towards his stomach, tugging at his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing you to remove it. Your hands explored his body, fingers tracing over his muscles, committing him to memory. He smiled, enjoying your touch as you placed soft kisses on his chest, looking up into his eyes.

He leaned down, his lips capturing yours. His kisses were hungry and desperate, his hands squeezing your curves. You grasped at his belt, unbuckling it, and pulling it off. You reached into his pants, wrapping your hand around his cock, smirking as he lets out a low moan. You began to stroke him, feeling him grow harder, maintaining eye contact as you watched him groan with pleasure.

"Love," he panted, his voice thick with arousal.

"Can I taste you?" you ask, your breath ghosting over him. He nods in response, his hips bucking as you continue to stroke him.

He moved on to his back, keeping his eyes fixed on you as you lay kisses down his neck and chest, the feeling of your warm lips making him pant. Your hand never left his cock, never once slowing, and he watched as you used your other hand to gently pinch his nipple, making him hiss out a breath, his teeth clamping together. You felt empowered as you watched him melt under your touch, the big bad hybrid brought to his knees with just your hands. You trailed your tongue from his chest, lower, and lower, not even trying to hide how much you were enjoying his responses.

You finally reached his cock, settling yourself between his legs and looking up at him with innocent, doe eyes. You smirked, holding his gaze as you gripped his cock and slid the head between your parted lips, swirling your tongue around his tip, eliciting a deep guttural groan from him. You lowered yourself down on his throbbing length, taking as much of him as you could handle. Then you slowly pulled off, his cock wet with your saliva, and he moaned, his hands fisting the sheets.

"Do you like that, Nik?" You asked in your most innocent tone. Giving the head of his cock kitten licks as you watched his face. 

"Yes," he moaned, his hips jerking. You plunged him into your mouth again, and took him deeper than before. He moaned and thrust his hips up as you worked him with your mouth, his hand coming to tangle in your hair, guiding you. You teased him with your tongue, licking and flicking it over the veins, taking him deep into your mouth and then pulling off with a pop.

"What about this?" You asked, teasing him some more, relishing in the power you had over him. You felt a surge of heat and wetness pool between your thighs, anticipating what he was going to do to you if you pushed him too far.

He growled in frustration and grabbed your hair roughly, pushing your head down on his cock, holding you in place as he thrusted into your mouth. You reached between his legs, stroking his balls, and he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening.

You continued to bob up and down on his cock, loving the way his hips jerked as he got closer and closer to his orgasm. You could feel his balls tighten, and you knew he was about to come.

You pushed your head all the way down, your nose pressing into his pelvis, you let out a soft hum, pushing him over the edge. He let out a low groan as he came, his cum spilling down your throat, you swallowed every last drop.

He released his grip, and you pulled off his cock, gasping for air. You held out your tongue to him, showing him you swallowed it all, and he let out a low, primal growl, snatching you by your hair and crashing his lips against yours. You breathed heavily, your heart pounding as you kissed him back, feeling the stubble scratch at your chin.

His hands slid down to your waist, his fingers digging into your hips and suddenly you were across the room, pressed against the wall, you let out a shocked gasp, clinging to his shoulders.  He gripped the backs of your thighs and hiked your legs around his waist, using one hand to tease his cock up and down your entrance.

"Nik," you whispered, your voice full of surprise and desire.

"Have you ever been bitten?" He asked, you could feel his warm breath against your neck.

"No, I've never been with a vampire before," you replied breathlessly, gazing at him from under your eyelashes. You felt a rush of excitement and your legs started to tremble.

He raised one eyebrow and a sexy, playful grin formed on his lips. "I'm a hybrid, love, far superior," he teased, kissing your neck softly, then tracing your jugular with his tongue.

You moaned, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you still as he scraped his fangs over your skin. He slowly pushed himself into you, and you threw your head back, moaning as his thick, hard cock stretched you open.

"Fuck," you moaned, as his lips captured yours. He kissed you with such ferocity, sucking on your bottom lip, it was almost violent, and you loved it. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on it, feeling him groan into the kiss, causing his thrusts to speed up and intensify. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, urging him on. You bit your lip to suppress your moan, knowing someone could be in the compound.

"Don't be shy, sweetheart," he teased, his pretty accent giving you goosebumps as he continued thrusting into you, "It's just us. I want to hear you."

You flushed and tried to stay quiet, but the things he was doing to you had you moaning, crying out, and begging for more. You buried your face in his neck, biting down on his shoulder, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Fuck, yes, bite me, love," he encouraged, his hips snapping into yours.

You obeyed, biting down harder, hoping to leave a mark. You gasped, your jaw going slack as his fucked you senseless against the wall. Your head was swimming, and all you could focus on was the feel of his cock buried inside you, and the iron grip he had on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin so hard you knew they would leave bruises.

He pounded into you, his lips finding yours, swallowing your moans. He broke the kiss, his voice hoarse, "So pretty and all mine," he murmured, his eyes meeting yours, full of adoration.

"Nik," you breathed, his name sounding like a prayer on your lips.

He moved a hand up, wrapping it around your throat, gently squeezing, restricting your breathing. You moaned, a shot of adrenaline mixed with pleasure coursing through you. He increased his pace, and you knew he was close, his cock swelling, his pace becoming erratic.

"Are you gonna come for me, love?" he whispered, fucking you harder.

You couldn't answer, his grip on your throat was too tight, but he growled, sensing your closeness. He ground his pelvis into your clit, sending you over the edge. Your whole body was trembling as you came, pulsating around him, he growled, sinking his fangs into your neck, the sharp pain only adding to the intensity of the orgasm.

You felt the blood rush out of your neck, the orgasm ripping through you in waves, his hips never slowed, still fucking you hard, his cock throbbing as he continued to drink your blood. You cried out as his thrusts became frantic, his pace inhumanly fast and you knew he was about to come. As your orgasm started to ebb, you felt his cock pulse, and his release spilled inside of you.

He retracted his fangs, pressing his lips to the wounds and began to place soft kisses along your neck, his hips jerking as he rode out the last of his climax. You clung to him, your whole body throbbing as your orgasm finally began to subside, and you felt weak, your strength gone. He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours, panting heavily.

"Bloody hell," he said between breaths, giving you a wild smile as he kissed you. His hand moved to the side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently. You sighed, closing your eyes, feeling his weight on top of you.

"That was incredible, love," he whispered, placing kisses on your jawline. You lay there, panting, enjoying the post-orgasmic glow, letting his lips wander.

"Enjoy yourself?" he teased, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms, your head resting on his chest.

"Very much," you replied, turning your head to kiss him.

"Good, because we're not finished yet."

You giggled. "We aren't?"

"Not even close, love."

{Part Two -Kol} ♡ {Part Three - Marcel} ♡ {Part Four - Elijah}

Authors Note: I find calling him Nik really hot... anyone else?