#make it WAY worse for them i can imagine it's exhausting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nanaslutt · 1 year ago

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Bathtime

synopsis: When Uraume informs you about Sukuna's ability to lactate but his disdain for emptying his tits, you know exactly what to do to help

contains: fem reader, you're Sukuna's assistant, true form Sukuna, nipple play, lactation kink, masturbation, dry humping, mention of blood, dirty talk, sexual tension, porn with plot // wc: 6.6k

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Sukuna had grown quite irritable lately, more so than usual. It had been a few days since he started acting out, and you had no idea how to get closer to him to find out what was wrong. Sukuna wouldn't even let Uraume into his chambers to drop off his food, always making them leave it outside the door. It was a gamble whether he would even eat the food at all.

Sukuna spent the majority of his time locked up in his room, or down the way at a nearby village, blowing off steam. This time when he came back though, he looked worse for wear. His face was in a permanent scowl, his muscles were twitching under his skin, and blood was coating every inch of his body. Not his, but he still looked rough.

"Sukuna let me-" The king bumps his into your smaller body, making you fall back against the wall behind you, your arms reaching back to brace yourself. Uraume stood opposite from you in the room, catching your eyes before they fell to the floor. They kept their hands together in front of them, watching Sukuna's silhouette disappear from their peripheral vision. When the door to his chambers slammed shut, the loud sound echoing through the halls, Uraume let their gaze drift up as they made their way over to you.

"Are you alright?" They asked, brushing the dust off of your kimono. You ignored their question, your eyes latching on the outside of his chamber doors. "What is his problem? He's always grumpy but... this is new." You said, rubbing the ache from the back of your neck. Uraume sighed and placed their hands back together in front of them, putting some distance between the two of you.

"I know you haven't been this close to Sukuna-sama for very long, but this isn't out of character for him at times. There's a reason for it." You looked back over to Uraume, confusion evident on your features as you tilted your head to the side. "He- He doesn't like to acknowledge it, he's stubborn," Uraume said, averting their gaze. Their expression looked conflicted, their nose scrunched as they stared at the floor.

"Acknowledge what?" You asked, prying further. "Sukuna, he-" Uraume paused to clear their throat before they finished, "he lactates." It took a moment for their words to register in your head, but once they did, your jaw dropped. Just when you were about to question them further, they spoke again. "He knows he needs to drain them, but he hates the act of doing so. Which makes him ignore his problem. As a result, as you can imagine, the feeling is quite uncomfortable for him, making him more... grumpy than usual." Uraume explained, using the word you used earlier.

You opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words before you spoke. "How long do these fits of his last?" You asked Uraume. The white-haired chef looked around at the walls that surrounded them, pondering. "His longest fit was two months. It was excruciating to try and care for him during that time, it always is." Uraume said, sighing. They sounded exhausted.

You wanted to pat them on the back, you didn't know how they dealt with his attitude so well sometimes. "How does he go back to normal?" You ask, fidgeting with the fabric of your kimono absentmindedly as you speak. "All he has to do is relieve himself. He has pumps I keep in the kitchen. If he's ready, he'll come find them." Uraume said, suppressing an eye roll.

You felt bad the chef had to deal with this for decades. Just how many fits of his has he gone through while Uraume was at his side? He probably never thanked them either. You've always looked up to Uraume. They had the kind of elegance and patience you could only dream of achieving someday. You stared at the freshly swept floors of Sukuna's residence. The shiny black tile reflects the light from the chandeliers above you, blinding you.

"I'll take care of it," You said vaguely, determination laced in your tone. Uraume's eyebrows furrowed together as they looked at you quizzically. "I hate to see you get treated so roughly by him all because he refuses to milk his tits." Uraume's eyes went wide, their hand shot up to block their expression from you, hiding the blush that crept up their face from your use of anatomy language for the man.

"You- I don't know if you'll have much luck. He's a stubborn man." Uraume said, sounding like they were dismissing your idea. You were about to try and press them further when they spoke before you. "But if you really want to give it a go, I'll take you to where I keep his pumps." Uraume could swear your eyes shimmered at their words.

You took a deep breath before rapping your knuckles against the king's quarters, immediately dropping to your knees, the pump tucked away in a bag, slung around your shoulder. "Sukuna-Sama, I ran a bath for you and I-" The door swung open before you could finish your sentence. The door slammed hard against the wall, making you close your eyes, your body tensing reflexively. You saw two sock and sandal-covered feet in your line of sight, making your heart race.

"Let me help you wash up Sukuna." It wasn't uncommon for you to help Skuna in the bath, help him get dressed, other mundane tasks, so your proposal didn't seem out of the blue. You wanted to give your reason for asking, as you usually just assumed you would unless he said otherwise. But you guessed if you had added that you wanted to help him because he seemed like he was having a hard time lately, he would mistake it for pity, and your head would be severed from your body.

Only Sukuna truly knew your worth to him, so he would never do such a thing, but you thought otherwise. Sukuna huffed out a breath before he walked past you and took a sharp left, heading to the bathroom, where you had already drawn him a bath.

You sighed in relief when he turned another corner, now out of your view. You briefly wondered what the hell you were doing. Hands clasped together in front of you, you pushed open the cracked door of the bathroom. You were met with Sukuna's rippling back, covered in now dried blood from his earlier massacre, contrasting nicely against his pale skin. Your eyes dared to travel down further, starting from his heels, up the strong muscles of his calves, and the tight muscles of his as-

Sukuna's glowing red eyes peered at you from over his shoulder, making you swiftly avert your eyes, finding the floor of the bathroom. It was hot in the room as you shut the door behind you, locking yourself in with your king. You couldn't tell if the heat you felt creeping through your body was from the steam around you, or something else.

Splashing of water took you out of your trance and back to the man in front of you as he descended into the tub, the clear fluid overflowing around him, creating a mess on the floor. Swallowing whatever saliva was left in your dry mouth, you walked forward, making sure not to sneak up on him and instead walking around the side of the bath to set your bag on the chair in the corner of the room, a few feet in front of the bath.

You didn't dare to look, but you could feel Sukuna's eyes tracking your every move from the moment you were in his sights. You squeezed your fists into the fabric of the bag, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as you tried to ready yourself to turn around and face him.

"You're nervous." Sukuna's deep voice cut through the tense, hot room, creating goosebumps along your flesh. You turned on your heels, making eye contact with him. You tried to ignore the now pinkish color of the skin of his chest in your peripherals, his body warmed by the water around him. "Nonsense, it's just a little hot in here." You explained, making your way towards the tub.

When you reached the side of the bath centered in the room, you reached out to grab the washcloth hanging off the side, half submerged in the water. Sukuna's hand gripped your wrist entirely, his stronghold keeping you in your place. you didn't dare to even breathe. "Lie to me again, you won't like the consequences." You tried to keep your breathing steady as your eyes traced the rippled in the water around his knee.

You nodded, still averting your gaze. The only thing you could hear was how intense your heartbeat sounded in your ears. His touch had been so unexpected. If you weren't nervous before, you certainly were now. Sukuna squeezed your small wrist, cutting off your blood flow entirely for a moment, your hand throbbing at the loss of it. You could feel his eyes cutting daggers through the side of your face. Finally, he released you, placing his heavy hand back along the side of the tub.

You took the washcloth in your hand and walked around the tub until you were met with his wide back. You took deep breaths behind him, trying to steady your racing heart now that you were out of his sight at least. Unfolding the washcloth, already hot and damp with water, you reached out and placed it against Sukuna's skin, not missing the way his muscles contracted under your touch.

Taking care of Sukuna relaxed you, you felt most at a place like this. Your eyes traced the markings on his skin as you rubbed the dried blood from his body, collecting it on the washcloth. You leaned down to your side, crouching a bit as you dipped the rag in a smaller bucket of water, cleaning the blood off of it before you went in again. The water turned a pinkish color from the first wipe.

"Relax Sukuna, you did a lot of work today." You said, trying to ease him as you rubbed the rag over his shoulders, your other hand holding atop his other shoulder. Sukuna all but grunted at your words, his eyes darting around in front of him, trying to find something worthy of stimulating his vision. Your body relaxed from his tame reaction, the hot water must be doing wonders on his chest. You decided to push your luck.

Moving to the side of him, you brought the rag over his shoulder and around his collarbones, ridding him of the crimson blood there. The water was a big moggy from the blood that had coated the rest of his body, making it hard to see into the water. You could only see blurry shots of his body parts when you dipped the rag into the water.

Sukuna was watching you again, and this time you hadn't noticed. You were too focused on your job at hand, that you failed to notice the piercing red eyes tracking you. You leaned over the tub slightly, reaching the blood that stained his other collarbone. Sukuna was exhausted. The hot water bordering on boiling his skin combined with your soft touch was lulling him away into a calmer headspace.

His chest ached, the feeling standing out like a sore thumb compared to how relaxed the rest of his body was. You noticed his hand on the tub opposite from you had relaxed, his arm now just resting along the side instead of gripping it. You peeked your eyes over at his neck, looking at his face through the corners of your eyes. Sukuna's breathing was even, and his face was still, his eyes shut. You knew he wasn't completely unguarded, he never was, but he was relaxing.

You dipped your hand into the hot water of his tub, your gaze finding his hard chest as you rang out the towel. You couldn't tell if his nipples were red from the hot water, or from his little predicament. Seeing as how his chest was above water though, you could make an educated guess.

It looked so swollen. Sukuna's muscles were impressive, yes, but you were extremely familiar with his body, and his chest was larger than before. He had kept you away from him for almost a week, so you had failed to notice it before. The skin of his chest looked taut and almost stretched. You placed the rag just above his chest, your eyes finding his face to check if he noticed or felt anything displeasing.

When he gave you no reaction, you dragged the rag down his chest, maybe pressing a little too hard as you went down, but you were determined to ease his ache. You only made it about halfway down his chest before you were being restrained again. This time, Sukuna was more dramatic.

He shot up from the tub, the water reaching about his knees as he kept a strong hold on your arm, distancing you from his chest. Your heart had started racing again, this level of stress seriously couldn't be good for your health. Sukuna's lip twitched in disdain, his eyes sharp and pointed as he glared at you, his jaw muscles clenching under the weight of his teeth.

You forced yourself to speak, "S-sukuna are you alright?" You asked, feigning ignorance the best you could with how in shock you were from his abrupt actions. Sukuna's breathing stayed quick, his gaze angry. He looked as if he was trying to see if you were being honest, if your words were genuine. More time went by, and his nails digging into your skin hurt you more than you cared to admit. Your arm throbbing where he grabbed you.

"Not. Not there." Sukuna said, sucking in a deep breath. You stayed quiet, mustering a confused look on your face. "My pecs. Do not touch them." He clarified, seeing as how you didn't understand his words the first time. You nodded quickly, keeping your lips firmly shut. It was only then that you realized you were face to face with his crotch.

Sukuna had been naked in front of you countless times, but that doesn't mean you got any more used to it. You've never fully got a glance at his... down there, always stopping yourself from leaning into your desires and looking at him. For some reason in this atmosphere, you wanted to look so bad. More so than you ever have before. You were usually good at curbing your arousal for the king, but it was growing harder and harder the more time you spent with him.

Sukuna squinted his eyes at you before he crouched back down, two of his hands grabbing the sides of the tub as he descended back down, his face now coming more level with your own. You softly pulled back against his hand, reminding him he needed to let you go.

He obeyed seconds later, his eyes staying locked on your face the whole time. Dipping the rag in the water, you swirled it around, pretending you were cleaning it off good before you spoke. "Sukuna-sama, may I ask you something?" You said softly, not wanting to irritate him further. Sukuna stayed silent. Your eyes found his when he failed to answer, that's when you noticed the curt nod he gave you.

Looking back at the rag, you rang it out with two hands, the water droplets creating rings on the surface. "Forgive me for asking, but why am I not allowed to wash you there?" You asked, furrowing your eyebrows as you spoke, trying to give him the impression you really didn't know his situation. "You're... there's still blood on your chest." You added.

Sukuna's eyes stayed locked on yours, an unreadable expression on his features. "The water will wash it away." He responded, ignoring your question. You returned his words with a short nod of understanding. You knew better than to expect Sukuna to admit to you he was in pain. He wouldn't even admit it to himself.

You dragged the washcloth along the side of his torso, along his ribs just under his arm. Sukuna's lip twitched, the pressure from his chest extended to the side of his pecs as well, making your touch irritable, but Sukuna was able to control his reaction, miraculously.

You noticed the water shift with him as he pushed his hips forward, sliding down into the water more as you scrubbed his body clean of the blood. "Would you like me to abstain from touching you here too?" You asked, keeping your eyes on his chest instead of his face when you asked the question. "If I don't want you touching me somewhere, you will know," Sukuna said, his eyes squinting at you as he spoke.

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a soft laugh. More like a soft breath of air passing through your nose, but the small smile on your face made the sound have a direct correlation. You corrected yourself immediately, clearing your throat you distanced yourself from his body a bit and dipped the towel back into the water.

Walking around the other side of the tub, going behind him to escape his gaze for a moment, you started cleaning the blood off of his left side. You pressed your fingers along the sides of his ribs, making small circle motions almost at the end of his pec, giving him small relief through the discomfort. Sukuna was now staring at the ceiling, his jaw bulging under the weight of his teeth each time you pressed against the side of his sore pec.

Just when you were about to move on to another part of him, as you were dragging your hand away from the underside of his chest, a small white drop of fluid dripped down his chest and met with the water below him, right next to your hand. You froze in place, watching how the milky color faded into the crimson water, becoming the same shade.

You peeked your eyes up and noticed Sukuna was still looking away, meaning you could investigate a little. Biting your lip, you repeated the same action, rubbing right under his chest. This time though, you kept your eyes on his red nipples, as you had a pretty strong indication of what had happened, and you didn't want to miss it this time.

As you pressed against him, sure enough, another white droplet dripped down his chest, following the same trail as the last. The small droplet left an off-white streak along his pale skin. You pressed your thighs together, you had no idea the sight would be so erotic. Hell, you were starting to think you were going to be unsuccessful in your endeavors with getting to relieve Sukuna.

While you were ogling his tits and subtly rubbing your thighs together, trying to diminish the heat that was forming between your legs, Sukuna had dropped his eyes on you. You were foolish to think he wouldn't feel himself lactating, and especially stupid if you didnt think he wouldn't pick up on how you repeatedly rubbed him in the same spot.

Sukuna watched carefully as milk spilled from his chest, your watchful, lidded eyes not missing a single second of it. "Are you having fun?" His voice echoed in the hot room, making your hair stand on edge at the sound. You swallowed hard, slowly retreating your hand away from him. You let your eyes trace his tattooed skin up and up and up, until you were met with his face, which looked almost amused.

"You planned to do this all along didn't you?" He accused, making your eyebrows shoot up in shock. You distanced yourself, dropping the rag in the tub with him as you waved your hands in front of yourself. "N-no Sukuna, I just- I noticed it just now." You explained, looking anywhere but his face. "I put the pieces together just now. Y-you told me not to touch your t-" You quickly corrected yourself, about to use an extremely inappropriate word to describe your boss's pecs.

You cleared your throat before you spoke. "-Chest, and when I saw the liquid just now I-" "What did I say about lying?" Sukuna interrupted, making you find his eyes swiftly. You furrowed your eyebrows together, a drop of sweat sliding down your face. "Do you think I wouldn't hear you talking to Uraume in the hall? You were a mere ten feet away from my quarters, you think my hearing is so inefficient?"

You felt all the blood drain from your face, your jaw falling open in tandem, you were going to die here. "Looks like I wasn't hearing things then," Sukuna smirked, your reaction giving everything away. Your skin was vibrating, and the heat you felt between your legs was gone in an instant, only fear remained inside of you.

Sukuna smiled, resting his head in his hand as he looked you up and down. "Well? Aren't you going to defend yourself?" He asked, a smug look on his face.

You decided it was now or never, he was already for sure going to kill you. Might as well fess up. "I- if you knew, why did you let me go when I touched your chest the first time? Surely you knew my intentions." You asked, keeping your distance. Sukuna's smile grew, smile lines forming around it. "It's fun to tease you." He said shamelessly like the sadist he is. You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to look away from his intense gaze.

"Uraume tried to talk me out of it. If you're going to take this out on anyone, take it out on me. I couldn't stand seeing you treat them so harshly, so I took your pumps and ran you a bath, hoping I would be able to relieve you somehow." You blabbed, keeping your hands firmly in front of yourself. Sukuna clicked his tongue in his mouth, his eyes having a darker look in them after your confession.

"I half-assed ambush." He responded. "Just how did you think you were going to get those horrid things on my chest without me noticing? Hm?" Sukuna asked, his tone becoming harsher when he spoke of the pumps. You took in a deep breath and turned your head to the side, looking at your bag which had the pumps tucked away.

"Worst case I was going to ask you straight up and see if you cut my head off or not." You replied. Sukuna laughed at how casually you spoke to him, you must really think you were going to die. "But you surmised deceiving me would be better than being direct?" Sukuna challenged, his eyes giving you a one-over while you weren't looking.

The atmosphere had gotten hot again. The heat started returning to your body the longer you stayed alive. Why hadn't he taken your life yet? You looked back to him and nodded, not giving him any more of your reasons, you had spoken enough. Sukuna dropped his hand back down along the side of the tub and tipped his head back, his slanted eyes staring at you from behind his bottom lashes.

"Ask." He said curtly, his fingers tapping along the side of the tub. You blinked at him, considering his words carefully. After a long beat of silence, you spoke. "Sukuna-Sama, may I help you relieve yourself with the pumps?" You asked, keeping your eyes on his. His toothy grin made you throb under your robe. "No." He replied. You still kept your eyes on him, challenging him.

"Ask again." He demanded, tipping his head to the side. "Sukuna-Sama." You paused at his name as you figured out the meaning behind his words. His disdain while he spoke about the pumps must mean he didn't want to use them, but what other way was there? Possibly he couldn't mean...

"Can I relieve you?" You asked, leaving out the part about the pumps. Sukuna released a soft laugh, amused and impressed at how quickly you had figured out what he wanted you to ask. "And how will you relieve me?" He pushed further.

The vagueness in his words made you fight the urge to press your thighs together, a fire burning hot between them. "Anyway, you'd like me to, Sukuna." You replied, not even daring to blink as you tested him. Sukuna licked his lips before tipping his head back down, looking at you straight on. "What are you waiting for then?" He challenged, his knees poking out the top of the water spreading to make room for... something, or someone.

You slowly walked up to the tub, your eyes never once leaving his. "Perhaps we should change the water first." You replied, leaning down to the drain on the outside of the tub. Sukuna's hand grabbed the back of your neck firmly as you leaned down, stopping you from moving any further. "That won't be necessary." He replied, pulling you upwards.

"You aren't afraid of a little blood are you?" He teased, one of his eyebrows raising in amusement. You shook your head, placing your hand on his that still held the back of your neck. Sukuna released you, the smile still evident on his face. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute. He wanted you to get in the tub with him right? That's why he said that? What if you were interpreting his words wrong? What if-"

"Get it. Keep me waiting for another second and I'm changing my mind." Sukuna's deep voice reverberated through your body, shutting down any insecure thought that popped into your head. He was fibbing, there was no way he could go any longer without having his chest milked, he was so sore but his teasing was the only way to get you to hurry up.

You pulled the bow keeping your robe together undone, the thick fabric falling off of your body, exposing a thinner, white robe underneath. Sukuna felt saliva start to pool in his mouth, he could see the figure of your body almost perfectly now, and he would see it even clearer once you got in the water with him. You kicked the kimono to the side and grabbed the edge of the tub.

You swung your leg over it, dipping it into the blood-stained water. Immediately the temperature made you tense the muscles in your leg as you inhaled a sharp breath. "There you go." Sukuna said softly, his large hand grabbing your thigh, pulling you into the bath with him. If the atmosphere didnt feel tense and intimate earlier, it sure as hell did now.

You slipped on the bottom of the tub when your foot reached the bottom, your kimono getting drenched with the water around you, making the fabric sheer as you reached out and Grabbed Sukuna's shoulders, bracing yourself. Sukuna tsked, blinking away the water that had splashed in his eye before your waist was being grabbed with two hands and you were pulled into the water, your thighs straddling his pelvis, just above his...

"Didn't know you could be so clumsy." Sukuna teased, making your face turn bright red as you retracted your hands from his shoulders, sitting back. He kept a strong hold on your waist, keeping you against him. "I wonder what else you're hiding from me." Sukuna purred, tiping his head at you. You swallowed hard before looking down at his chest, swollen and irritated.

It felt like millions of little needles were pricking your skin from the heat, but the sight of Sukuna's chest in front of you distracted you enough for the pain to not feel unbearable. "How- how do I go about..." You stuttered softly, fidgeting with your hands in front of you. "Ask your question in a way I can understand. You aren't a child." Sukuna retorted, making you scrunch your eyebrows together in embarrassment.

His glowing eyes on you didnt help how nervous you were feeling. "The liquid that came out of them earlier, what was it?" You asked, backtracking to make sure you knew exactly what you were dealing with. Sukuna looked unimpressed, staring at you like you were dumb. "What do you think? Surely you can't be that dense," he responded. You felt the vein in your head throb, was he incapable of answering a question straight on?

You were hesitant to ask your next question. How you should get the milk out. Usually, mothers would breastfeed or use a pump to get the milk out, was it really the same for Sukuna? "Why do you produce... milk?" You asked, reaching out slowly before softly placing your hands on his chest with featherlight pressure.

"I'm not a mother if that's what you're asking," Sukuna said, a hint of humor behind his deadpanned answer. You didn't even know he was capable of making jokes. "Of course not." You responded, softly squeezing his chest, resulting in a long inhale from the man underneath you, his nails digging into your waist.

Sukuna's eyes fell to your chest, which was not soaked with the water and sheer. Unfortunately for him, you were wearing a bra, but the sight of it through your now-see-through clothes was a treat nonetheless. "Just do what you feel is right." He answered your unspoken question, his eyes lazily sliding back up to find yours.

With a nod, your eyes left him and dropped down to his tatted chest. You unknowingly wiggled on his lap before you groped his chest harder, resulting in Sukuna rolling his head to the side. You pressed the tight muscles together, rubbing his chest in circles, trying to increase his blood flow there. Sukuna's eyes shut halfway at the painfully pleasureful.

You worked your hands from the outside of his chest inward until you reached his nipples. You felt yourself throb between the legs repeatedly, the pace almost matching that of your heartbeat. You had no idea how worked up this would make you. Sukuna winced, almost unnoticeably, when you squeezed your hands right around his nipples, a white stream trickling down his chest.

You wanted to apologize, but once again didnt want him to feel self-conscious about feeling the pain. Sukuna rolled his eyes, his lip twitching at the feeling of his tits being milked bringing him relief in more ways than one. His cock had been hard from the moment you had started bathing him, his teasing and your facade of not knowing what you were doing to him only riled him up more.

The pressure of your hands stimulating his irritated chest outweighed the pleasure with the discomfort, leading Sukuna to grip your waist harder and groan. "Use your mouth, this method is insufficient." He growled, his voice coming out more hoarse than before.

He wanted you to... suck his nipples? You knew better than to ask any follow-up questions, Sukuna was clearly irritated enough. He was at his breaking point. You squeezed your thighs around his torso, trying to press your clit against his lower tummy to bring yourself some relief, completely forgetting that his body was a part of him and he could feel everything you were doing.

Sukuna stayed silent about your arousal for now. With a soft nod, you leaned forward and latched your lips around his nipple, waiting a brief moment to gather yourself before you sucked. Sukuna immediately groaned, and you made a noise of surprise as his milk flooded your mouth, the taste of it sweeter than you imagined.

Sukuna's hand pressed firmly against the back of your head, his low groans filling the bathroom as you sucked harder, your tongue lapping over his nipple occasionally, soothing the bud. Sukuna groaned through his teeth, his head tipping back as he relished in the feeling of his chest being milked.

Countless times he's had to relieve himself with the pump, and never once has it ever felt like this. Sukuna's cock twitched repeatedly with the need for attention each time you suckled around his nipple. "Yeahhhh, yeah this is doin' it." Sukuna groaned, shaking his head back and forth as he looked down at you. You peeked up at him, moaning around his nipple as you did your best to make eye contact with him, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Can't tell who this is for with how much yer rubbin' on me." Sukuna teased. He was right, you had been so absorbed in sucking on his chest that you failed to realize you had been steadily humping against his lower abdomen, giving your clit some much-needed friction. You stopped and pulled off of his chest the moment he exposed you, his hand still holding the back of your head.

Milk dripped out from his nipple, running down his chest. "I didn't say you had to stop, did I?" He corrected, raising his eyebrows in an unimpressed manner. "I told you, didn't I? Do what you have to do."

You nodded quickly with a hot face before you leaned down and latched your lips around his other nipple. A loud, long groan was released from Sukuna's longs as you started sucking, some of the milk you were unable to swallow spilling out from your lips and down your chest. Sukuna pulled his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes threatening to roll back in his head at the nipple stimulation.

You heard a sloshing sound behind you. At first, you thought it was your body creating the noise now that you were grinding your cunt on his pelvis freely, but you quickly realized it was something much different when you felt his hand repeatedly bumping against your back. Sukuna was jerking off.

"So eager huh?" Sukuna teased, his voice much darker and needier now. Sukuna was wasting no time with teasing himself by taking things slow, your tongue flicking against his nipples made his balls ache with the need to drain them, so that was exactly what he was going to do. Pulling back from his chest you sat up and began tweaking with the swollen buds, making milk leak down them.

Sukuna's hips jolted under yours, making your body jump against him. "Almost there, they're almost empty." Sukuna nodded, his eyes fluttering in their sockets. You weren't sure if he was talking about his situation under the water, or his chest. Nonetheless, you leaned forward and took a nipple back into your mouth again, sucking harder, trying to drain him completely.

Your own humping was thrown off as Sukuna began fucking up into his fist, the tip of his cock poking you in the back each time he did so. The water sloshed around you, spilling out on the floor from the tub. "Uh-huh. uh-huh, keep sucking, keeeeep fucking sucking." Sukuna demanded, his head falling back along with his jaw.

His jerking was sporadic now. You moaned and whined around his nipple, your sounds coming out choppy and high-pitched from the movement of his body under yours. His pelvis was bumping forcefully against your clit, it almost felt like he was fucking you like this. "The other one, suck the other one, do it now." Sukuna groaned, his nails digging against your scalp, leaving a mean tingling sensation against it.

Sukuna's chest felt empty and much less taught than before, the previous throbbing all gone, save for the throbbing of his nipples from the pleasure you were giving him. Your lithe fingers tweaked the nipple you weren't sucking as you obeyed him and switched to the other, only getting small drops on your tongue now. You had truly sucked him dry.

Sukuna's hips lost their rhythm, his body going taught under you as his arm went stiff, doing the best he could to jerk himself up to his high. His jaw fell open further and his eyes rolled back in his head. A long, deep groan was released as he came. Long white ropes of cum shot out from his cock right against your back. He rubbed his tip against your skin while he jerked himself off, working himself through it with your help.

His cum mixed in with the water around him. His balls twitched and clenched as they pushed out every last drop of his cum. Pulling away from Sukuna's nipple you pressed both hands against his now empty chest and started humping against his lower stomach, his hard pelvis muscles rubbing perfectly against your clit, making your head spin.

"Nghhh- S-sukuna-" You cried absentmindedly, resulting in a large hand smacking over your mouth, followed by an amused laugh. "Yeah yeah, get yourself off on me but be quiet about it, don't need anyone else hearin' you cry my name," Sukuna said breathlessly, his hand still holding the base of his now spent cock as he watched you finish yourself off.

His hands around your waist tightened and helped you rub yourself along his muscles when he noticed you were having a little trouble the closer you got. "You gonna cum?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at you, a hint of neediness in his voice. You nodded, your moans getting muffled by his hand. "Cum then, I'll help you," Sukuna said, pressing you harder against him, bringing more friction to your sensitive clit.

Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling, now only seconds from crashing down into your high as you rubbed your needy pussy on him. Sukuna nodded at you, his jaw falling open in a small o, occasionally cracking into a small smile as he watched your eyes and eyebrows twitch and furrow in tandem.

Your hand left his chest to wrap around his arm at the last second to ground yourself as your orgasm hit you. "There you go." Sukuna drawled, smiling to himself as your body jerked forward and your hips stopped moving on your own. He helped you move against him. Each time your throbbing clit bumped into his lower abs while you came another loud muffled moan was caught behind his hand.

When you tapped repeatedly against his large arm, he loosened his grip on your waist and released your mouth. A string of saliva connected from your lips to his hand, something you would've been embarrassed about if you were in a clearer mindset.

Sukuna pat your ass a few times under the water, trying to coax you back into the real world. "That felt good, huh? Looked like it felt good." Sukuna teased. Your eyes were all out of focus and your chest rose and fell heavily with every deep breath you took. "Don't get sleepy on me now, still gotta clean this mess up."

You wanted to roll your eyes at his audacity. You just drained his tits and came on him and he was already telling you to clean up? "A...A thank you would be nice." You said, wiping your hand over your eyes, getting the sweat off of your face. Sukuna smiled before his hand gripped your chin firmly, shaking your face back and forth.

"I think the cum I spilled was thank you enough." He said snarkily, making you sigh. He laughed at your irritation, glad to see you were coming back. "Have Uraume throw the pumps away when you get finished here." He said, making you tip your head to the side and look at him funny.

"I don't think I'm going to need them anymore."

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dontbesoweirdkira · 5 months ago

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There's just so much potential for platonic !yan Tim Drake that isn't really explored. This post may flop but I like to imagine that yan! Tim Drake is actually the worse out of all his brothers...

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Look...you and i both know that Tim is canonically unhinged. But Batsis!reader doesn't. It's so easy for you to forget that your brother Tim is so dangerous. I mean he doesn't really seem all that different from any other nerdy 19 year old. His body doesn't loom over you like the more bulky of your brothers, and his presence is rather...calming? I mean there's still a bit of uneasiness there but it's so subtle that you can brush it off

He's normal when he interacts with you. He doesn't bug you to spend time with him or uncomfortably touch you like Dick does. He is sweet and gentle...He knows how you prefer to be engaged with and respects what you don't like.

But, that's what makes him so dangerous. He knows you. Every. Last. Detail. He's gotten so good at being a nasty little fly on the wall that sometimes you forget he's even in the room. He's always around you, observing and collecting data. He's got you wrapped around his fingers and you don't realize it.

But it's not your fault. It's hard to even imagine that someone as mellow as Tim could ever share the same traits as his brothers.

Yan! Tim fully picked up just how intuitive you are and how you can spot red flags easily. He's so calculated and careful with every interaction. It's amazing how natural he makes these conversations flow. Well, they better. He's spent hours analyzing and practicing how to speak to you. His heart is pounding with anticipation, as every shred of information you give him is going right into his files on you.

Oh! The files he has on you? When Jason and Dick asked him about how many he had, he said only 4. Which is true. but those 4 files have much more information and pictures of you than they could comprehend. ...and he wasn't accounting for the hard drives and physical stacks of papers he stole. I believe Tim knows more about you than you do. When was the last time you've seen your medical records? Passports? Birth certificate? Is your ID even in your wallet? Don't worry, your brother Tim is keeping them safe for you.

Yan! Tim is a little stalker who may or may not have put a tracking/listening devices in your bag so he can keep tabs on you. <33 That's why he's always wearing headphones so he cab listen in. A small piece of missed information could cost him so much. Don't be mad, batsis! He cannot risk making you suspicious of him by asking you invasive questions so this is the only way.

I Like to think you automatically sit by him. whether it be during breakfast, watching a movie or in the car. You feel safer with him and it's a better option in your head than being with Dick who will be overbearing. Tim always acts cool, even a little annoyed by you at times but inside he's screaming. Your scent, your small smiles at him and nudge his shoulders when he makes a funny remark all send him into overdrive.

But i must say, it's exhausting for him to hold back his obsession all of the time. Sometimes he envies his siblings and how shameless they are in their obsessions. Tim Drake thinks about how great it would to be to just be hugged by you or for you to want to fall asleep on him like you do with Jason.

Sometimes, our creepy detective will slip up. He will say or do something that is odd to you

"I cannot remember the name of that song i used to listen to...what was it.."

"It's this one by that local band, sis."

"oh, yeah! wait...how did you-"

"I know you better than i know myself..."

"...what?"

*an incident happened where dick basically forced you to say i love you back. Tim was there and he was so so jealous*

"You love me the most though, right?"

You laughed, thinking it was a joke\

"Sure, Tim. You are my favorite Robin."

*Tim is very visibly becoming feral. Almost in the same way as Dick and you are slightly alarmed*

"...I'm your favorite Robin? So you do love me more than them."

"0-o"

He repeats it over and over again in his mind. If he was recording it like he does with many of your interaction, it will be on instant replay every morning as an affirmation.

That one time you were chilling in the study with Tim. His head was ducked, low into the computer. It was super late by this time and you didn't really want to bother him so you ended up leaving without saying anything, and headed to your room. Tim was beyond hurt that you were breaking his version of bonding time and you had the audacity to not even announce your exit. He's so swift that it startled you when he grabbed your wrist from behind. His grip was....strong.... to say the least..... and he questioned why you were leaving him.

speaking of his strength, Tim is so skinny that you forget he is well trained with a nice bit of muscle. Maybe not as strong as his brothers or Bruce but he can easily subdue you.

He's definitely broken a lock or two, to get into your room at the dead of night and watch you sleep. This is the only time when he can be as fucked up as he wants to. The unhinged look in his eyes while going through your things and taking what's interesting..The adrenaline that you might catch him, excites him. He can't help but to sickly smile as he makes his way over to you and observes. A gentle hand caresses the sides of your face. You're so perfect. He whispers on and on things he wishes he could tell you while you were awake and wouldn't think it was weird....

Maybe even once he's crawled into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you. So happy to be able to finally be able to cuddle like this.

And if you happened to wake up, and realize your dear brother, Tim was there...he has a plan for that. He knows how to play mind games on you and makes you seem like the crazy one. No one would believe you anyways. The locks are all fixed by the morning.

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saetoru · 1 year ago

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underground fighter wriothesley who absolutely melts whenever you patch him up n place the softest kisses over his bruises n stuff :((

- 🦋 anon

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ WE, NOT I — WRIOTHESLEY.

contents. underground fighter! wriothesley, gn! reader (he gifts you flowers, perfume and a necklace though, so if that is fem! coded to you, there’s your warning), mentions of foster care and being orphaned (wriothesley), mentions of blood, bruises, and injuries (wriothesley), slight angst but overall fluff ending

money’s tight—has been for a while, actually. wriothesley doesn’t like to talk about it, doesn’t like to open up even though he knows you won’t think any less of him. but you notice the small things, always do.

it’s the way you buy groceries for two, the way he’s always over for dinner one way or another, the way he seems to spend more and more time at your place than his. money’s tight, even if he doesn’t like to admit it—and you could never force it out of him, but you think letting him stay with you while he can could help ease the burden of living even if a little.

he’s grateful—a little roundabout in the ways he shows it, but grateful all the same.

and then the presents start to come.

it’s small at first: those expensive macarons you like from that bakery, the bouquet of roses that couldn’t be cheap, a nice dinner he insists he can pay for every once in a while. and then it starts to get bigger: fancy tea from the side of town neither of you even think about shopping at, perfume from a brand you can’t even pronounce, a necklace that’s more than what you can afford yourself.

it starts out slow, and then all at once, wriothesley has what you imagine to be more money than he knows what to do with. because why else spoil you like this? why else blow money on things for you when he could be putting it towards himself?

not everyone gets to have a head start at life—wriothesley is proof of that. it’s hard, more than most people realize, to be orphaned so young and move through foster home after foster home. he’d gone to jail once too—he doesn’t talk about that either, and you never ask. it’s hard, more than anyone gives him credit for, to be knocked down by life so many times and make a living for yourself.

you can’t understand where the sudden change comes from, can’t pinpoint where along the line he started getting so comfortable. it’s not unwelcome, you would never want to watch him just barely scrap by, but it concerns you how he seems to have so much all at once.

and then you get your answer.

“what—what happened to you?” you ask in disbelief, eyeing the blood caked by his nose and around his knuckles. that’s the best of it, unfortunately—the gashes on his chest and the bruises somehow look even worse.

you’d consider him lucky that his ribs don’t seem cracked.

“just a fight,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes. wriothesley is a lot of things: resourceful, conniving at times, and braver than most. good at lying is not one of them, however—at least not with you. “just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“where were you, then?” you challenge, staring at him hard enough that he doesn’t have to meet your eyes to shuffle uncomfortably in his spot. he doesn’t answer. you’re almost fed up. “wriothesley,” you say in a warning tone.

there’s a sense of finality he doesn’t like.

“what happened to wrio, sweetheart? you’re killin’ me here, i come home to you all bruised up and you’re here beating me down harder—”

“wriothesley, i’m worried about you,” you whisper tiredly. it’s defeated—it’s almost helpless. he frowns, finally looking up at you from his place between your legs as you sit on the bathroom counter.

“you don’t have to be,” he mumbles, “i can take care on my own. i always have.”

“there’s no being on your own when we’re together,” you shake your head. your hands fall to either side of your body, shoulders slumping in exhaustion. “don’t you understand? neither of us is supposed to be on our own anymore—not when the other is here.”

“yeah,” he crosses his arms—you try to ignore the wince he lets out as he moves, “and now you’re not handling things on your own anymore. i’m carrying my weight. just need to fight a guy or two.”

“you’re carrying your weight by fighting?” you blink at the realization. he doesn’t look you in your eyes, keeping them trained on the floor again. “oh my god—is that what these are from? because….because you’re fighting some punks in the middle of the night? that’s illegal—and you could get in trouble again—”

he doesn’t seem to like being reminded of his past. that’s clear when he clicks his teeth and glares at you. “and what am i supposed to do, stay cooped up in your place and eat your food?” he asks bitterly, making your brows furrow.

“not necessarily, but you can—”

“what, so i just live paycheck to paycheck and shower at your place and sleep in your bed so my water and electricity bills aren’t too high for the month?”

“wrio—”

“i’m earning, aren’t i? what’s the big deal?”

“the big deal is this,” you wave your hand exasperatedly, tears welling up by the lash line of your eyes as you stare at his bruises with trembling lips, “look at you. it’s not worth it if you come back to me like this.”

“but i come back,” he mumbles, taking your hand—he kisses the knuckles, rubs a rough thumb over the smooth skin before laying your palm against his cheek and sighing. “i always come back.”

you love wriothesley—have since the day you met him, you think. he’s easy to fall for like that, to feel your stomach go in twists and knots every time he makes a sarcastic joke and throws you a charming smile. life has been tough on the man you love, unfairly so. it’s hit him harder and harder and pushed him back to his knees before he ever got a chance to fully stand up.

he’s hitting back, now. maybe in a more literal sense than you’d hoped, but….but maybe you can help him if you can’t change him. maybe you can keep the pieces together until the plaster holds and they’re not so fragile anymore.

“i don’t like seeing you hurt,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss the broken skin on his cheekbone, “you don’t have to do all this. we were doing okay before that.”

we. he shudders at that. it’s always we and never i—even when you did all the heavy lifting. even when he was barely getting by and you were giving more than you should’ve had to, more than he should’ve needed. it’s always we. never i.

you and him.

“i know,” he melts, humming as your fingers thread into his tousled hair, scratching his scalp as he buries his face into your neck, “just let me save a bit more. and then i’ll do something real with myself. i promise.”

you pull away after a bit, taking in every bruise and every cut, every dry patch of blood and swollen patch of skin. it’s shaky at first, your voice when you finally speak.

“‘s all bruised,” you say quietly, running a finger over the marks littering his chest. he’s painfully still—doesn’t move a muscle as you lean in slowly and press a kiss to the purplish stain on his skin, gently trailing them to the next one, and the next one, and the next one. “you don’t deserve all this.”

“yeah?” he chuckles—its breathy, a little strained. your arms loop around his waist and bring him closer, “what a sweet thing,” he coos, “nobody ever treats me so gentle.”

you frown at that. the world is not gentle with wriothesley—you’ll have to be extra gentle to make up for it.

“you’ll be safe? you’ll pull out when it’s too much, right? and you’ll come back? without being too hurt, right? wrio, you can’t—”

“yeah, yeah, i got it,” he huffs, pressing his forehead to yours, letting your hands cup his cheeks. he leans closer to your touch, shudders as you slowly trace his cheek with your thumb, “just wait at home all pretty for me, yeah? i’ll bring you back something nice.”

“bring me back yourself in once piece,” you huff.

“done,” he smiles, “i’m strong, if you haven’t noticed.”

“yeah? explain this,” you challenge, pressing down on a bruise and making him wince.

“you should see the other guy,” he whines, burying his face back into your neck. you roll your eyes, there’s a scoff in your throat but a smile on your lips.

wriothesley is safe—for now, that’s all you can ask for.

“i love you,” you mumble, “so much. no matter what, okay?”

“no need to get so emotional on me, baby,” he chuckles—and then there’s a tightening of strong arms around your body, a kiss pressed delicately to your neck before a soft, “but i love you too” is murmured into your skin.

“i hope you’re ready to clean those cuts. they’ll sting for sure,” you grumble as you pull away. he grins—handsome, charming, yours.

“will you kiss them better?” he bats his lashes, making you snort.

“no.”

i might make this a reoccurring drabble series too idk yet. anyway you know what else he can beat up ?? this pussy ;)

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #wrio x reader #wrio x you #wrio fluff #wrio angst

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honeydazai · 1 year ago

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୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬 sharing a bed with them 𓏸

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma

content: pre-relationship bed sharing, flirty/mildly sexual implications

It's truly unfortunate that, while on a mission for the Agency, you have to share a bed with DAZAI — or so you think, at least. He doesn't share the sentiment in the slightest, instead smiling as innocently as possible the moment his gaze falls onto the single bed in the hotel room booked for the night. While he pretends to offer you the bed, he'll guilt-trip you about the couch being way too short for his long legs and about his back already aching until, eventually, you give in and share it with him.

Naturally, he gets into your space more than necessary at night, pretending he's asleep while cuddling close to you, given how, then, you can't cuss him out for wrapping an arm around your waist and burying his face in your neck, breath warm against your throat. It's worse that he knows if you won't get any amount of sleep whatsoever, much too busy with fighting off arousal while he's pressed flush against your back.

“Hm? No, it's alright. I don't mind taking the couch. What kind of man would I be if I let you sleep on there? Still, it's just — it's way too short and hard. Couches this uncomfortable shouldn't exist, really. I doubt I'll be able to get even a wink of sleep tonight, what a shame.”

When there turns out to only be one bed in the hotel room you're supposed to stay in for the night, CHŪYA doesn't even hesitate before offering you the bed, immediately going for the couch instead. He won't accept any protests either; no matter whether you're worried about his comfort or just think it's polite to refuse his offer, he won't allow you to spend the night on a sofa. He's not making a huge deal out of it and, if you keep being annoying about it, he gets more and more exhausted by the minute.

Eventually, he might give in to the idea of sharing the bed. He has no trouble keeping to himself — or so he believes, because, once he's actually asleep, softly snoring into your ear, he's moving wildly, one leg eventually thrown over your body, arms stretched out. If you mention it to him in the morning, his cheeks flush soft pink.

“Hm? The fuck you mean, you'll be taking the sofa? Definitely not. I'm already here — and I don't mind. Go lie down and get some sleep. We've got a busy day tomorrow.”

RANPO, the very moment he steps foot into the room, decides he wants the bed to himself. The idea of taking the couch doesn't even cross his mind; instead, he makes his way over to the bed all too quickly, though, when you end up either glaring at him or asking him to share, he just shrugs.

Really, he doesn't make too big of a deal out of sharing a bed, not even seeming a little nervous at the idea of lying down beside you for hours on end. Meanwhile, at night, he cuddles up close to you — actually asleep, unlike a certain someone —, arms wrapped around you, for once completely unaware of you being all flustered because of him. In the morning, it'll be like nothing happened, even though you can't quite stop thinking about

“What are you looking at me like that for? I said we can share. If you're hoping to have it for yourself, tough luck. I was here first, just saying. Just get in or move to the couch already, I'm tired.”

All of FYODOR'S decisions are based on logic; this one is no exception. If the bed is large enough to fit two people, it's large enough for the two of you to share — though, if you feel like taking the couch instead, he won't protest. That's your decision to make, after all.

While actually sharing the bed with him, it's basically like you're alone in there, anyway. He doesn't move when asleep, doesn't make a sound; it's all too easy to imagine he's not even there, even though, occasionally, a dark strand of hair might brush against your face. What you don't know, however, is that he, at night, while you're fast asleep, he takes the time to watch you up close, lilac eyes tracing over every plane of your face.

“I do not mind sharing the bed with you. I hope you feel similarly. We both are adults, are we not? I doubt this will be an issue. Just lie down.”

NIKOLAI is undoubtedly amused by the idea of sharing a bed with you. He doesn't waste a single thought towards either of you taking the sofa instead; nonsense, just why would you do that? There's a perfectly fine bed right there, and surely both of you are mature enough to share one without any issues, right? Wrong.

He makes a point of being as obnoxious as possible, cuddling close to you the very second you lie down. It doesn't help that he's both tall and strong, his arms closed around your waist so you can't even try to get away or up, and he makes a point of whining whenever you attempt to squirm away. It's going to be a long night.

“What's the matter? Why are you moving so much? Stop it, I won't be able to fall asleep this way. Or — ah, are you trying to rile me up on purpose? That's naughty of you, sweetheart.”

SIGMA immediately makes a beeline for the couch the second he notices the dilemma of having a double bed rather than two separate ones booked. He won't even discuss the topic with you; he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable or forced to sleep on a sofa, so he'll do it instead. There's no whining or guilt tripping from his end; he simply accepts his fate for the night. There's worse things to endure.

If you're incredibly serious about convincing him, however, he might just give in, even though his cheeks feel a little warmer than usual when he lies down next to you, making sure there's an appropriate amount of distance between the two of you. If there's anything he doesn't want, it's you thinking he's trying to be creepy after you've decided to trust him — he probably ends up barely getting any sleep, just because he's worried about accidentally getting too close to you.

“Are you sure you're alright with this? I really don't mind spending the night on the sofa instead. ... Well, if you're sure — thank you.”

NEW POST AGAIN FINALLY AA my commissions are open, by the way!! dm me if interested! 💜

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imgoodimhealthy · 19 days ago

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nct dream reactions

arguing with them because of their idol life

— mark, renjun, jeno, haechan, jaemin, chenle, jisung.

— angst, comfort, established relationship

note: i almost dropped this one, too busy to continue but glad i did so:) ++ this is what i imagined them to be, some are too angsty for liking hehe.

MARK:

"im just tired, i was saying that maybe we could just talk this out tomorrow.." mark’s voice wavered, trying not to raise it too much. he feared that being louder would make things worse, like his words would carry a weight he couldn’t take back. his body ached from the long day at work. back-to-back meetings, endless demands, and managers breathing down his neck had drained every ounce of energy he had left. his head throbbed, and his limbs felt heavy, as if even standing was a struggle.

you scoffed, arms crossed tightly against your chest. "you always say that! you always keep saying tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow! at this point, our relationship feels like a joke!" your voice cracked, but you refused to back down, standing right in front of him with your brows tightly knit together. your chest rose and fell quickly, frustration coursing through your body like a storm that wouldn’t settle.

mark sighed deeply, rubbing his face with both hands as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion clinging to him. "fuck, i just need some rest!" his voice was rough, more desperate than angry, but the sharpness of it still cut through the room like a blade.

you flinched, your eyes widening slightly. he never sounded like that — not at you. your grip on your sleeve tightened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything.

mark slowly lowered his hands, and when he finally opened his eyes, he looked wrecked. his shoulders slumped like he was carrying the weight of the entire day, and his gaze softened when he saw the way you took a small step back. panic flickered across his face, and he reached out instinctively. "please, y/n... fuck, im sorry. okay? im tired, hey-" his fingers barely grazed your arm before you slapped his hand away.

the sting of rejection lingered on his skin, but he let his hand drop to his side, fingers curling into a loose fist.

"let's just talk tomorrow," you muttered, echoing his words in a bitter tone. you didn’t look at him as you opened the door of the apartment, stepping out without another glance. mark stood frozen in place, staring at the closed door. his chest tightened, his heart hammering painfully as the silence settled in. he felt everything and nothing all at once, the ache in his body now overshadowed by the hollow feeling in his chest.

RENJUN:

"i need to go, i just can't skip that. they were waiting for me," renjun explained, already grabbing his bag as he spoke. his voice was steady, but his movements were sluggish, still weighed down by yesterday's sickness.

you stepped in front of him, blocking his path with a worried look. "no, you were literally sick just yesterday. what can one day of rest hurt them?" your voice softened, but your concern was loud. you searched his face, hoping he’d change his mind, hoping he’d choose to take care of himself just this once.

renjun stopped, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. he let out a slow breath, his brows furrowing as he looked at you. "look, i know you're worried, but i can take care of myself," he said, voice laced with frustration. "i don’t need you to always remind me of things i already know."

and that. that hit you like a punch to the chest.

your arms slowly dropped to your sides, and you stared at him, blinking as his words echoed in your head. your chest ached, and you swallowed hard, trying to push down the hurt rising inside you.

renjun’s face fell the moment he saw your expression shift. he realized what he’d said, and regret immediately washed over him like a cold wave. "hey..." he muttered, stepping closer, "look, i’m fine, okay? i was sick yesterday, but not anymore —"

you turned your head away, cutting him off with a quiet, "just go."

renjun froze, his heart sinking. his fingers twitched at his side, torn between reaching out and giving you space. the room felt unbearably quiet, the tension so heavy it was almost suffocating. he stood there for a moment, staring at the door, then at you.

"i won’t go..." he whispered, barely loud enough to hear.

you looked at him, confusion flickering across your face. "what?"

renjun slowly sat down on the corner of his bed, his shoulders slumping as he rested his elbows on his knees. he rubbed his hands together, staring down at the floor. "i won’t go anymore," he repeated, voice steadier this time.

you took a hesitant step toward him, still unsure if you heard him right. "but... you said it’s important," you reminded him, your voice quieter now.

renjun finally looked up, his eyes tired but filled with something gentler. "not anymore," he said, shaking his head. "if it means losing you, then it’s not important anymore."

JENO:

you looked at him, frustration burning in your chest. "so you're just not going to acknowledge it?" your voice cracked as you scoffed, eyes locked on him, searching for some kind of remorse or understanding.

he met your gaze, his own filled with exhaustion. "acknowledge what? what did i do again?" his voice wavered, not with anger at you but at the situation — the cycle you both kept falling into. he ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as he tried to keep his composure.

he hated feeling this way. he hated feeling like loving you drained him more than it should. he loved you so much it hurt, but sometimes, he wondered if love alone could fix everything.

"you were literally in a dating rumor with someone else!" you snapped, stepping closer as your chest heaved with each word. "how am i supposed to react to that? be happy? congratulate you?" your voice shook, laced with hurt and betrayal.

he blinked at you, disbelief washing over him like a cold shower. his heart pounded, and he felt his head spinning. "it was a dating rumor, y/n," he said, voice breaking as he tried to steady his breath. "how am i supposed to stop it? do you want me to post on my socials and spell it out? say it isn’t real? it’s not that deep — they’re just rumors. you’re the one i’m with. you’re the one i love," he pleaded, stepping closer as if closing the distance would fix everything.

but you stepped back.

"i feel like you’re not even doing much," you said, voice quieter but sharper, like a blade slipping between ribs. "if you wanted to, you would."

he closed his eyes, sighing so deeply his chest caved in. "not every time can i do what i want," he muttered, voice rough from exhaustion. "you know how the industry works, y/n. i can’t just go out there and say whatever i want... even if i want to scream it to the world."

you looked at him, chest tightening. "so you’re all talk and no effort?" your words hit like a slap, and he flinched.

he swallowed hard, his hands trembling at his sides. "i’ve been trying so hard to make an effort..." he whispered, voice thick with unshed tears. he looked at you, eyes glassy and desperate. "was it never enough for you? was i never enough?"

HAECHAN:

"wait for me, i'll come over quick." his voice was urgent as he pressed the phone to his ear, weaving past his groupmates mid-practice. they called after him, confused, but he didn’t stop. he barely even registered the way their voices faded as he ran out of the studio.

his breath was heavy by the time he reached your apartment, about thirty minutes later. his heart pounded—not just from running, but from something heavier settling in his chest.

he quickly typed in the code to your door, pushing it open. and then, he froze.

you stood there, tupperware in hand, just as frozen as he was. on the table, there were a few decorations, a cake, and the quiet reminder of what today was.

his stomach dropped.

"fuck," he muttered under his breath, realization hitting him like a truck. he had forgotten.

you let out a short, humorless laugh, setting the tupperware back on the table. "i thought you wouldn’t come," you said, crossing your arms. "thought you were too busy hanging out with your... friends."

he swallowed hard, suddenly feeling too ashamed to step further inside. but he did, closing the door behind him. "i'm... sorry. i wasn’t just hanging out. we were practicing—there's an upcoming choreo for the comeback and—"

"you always say that," you cut him off, your voice flat.

he bit his lower lip, frustrated at himself, at the situation. "it’s true—look, i’m sorry. i was so busy, i didn’t realize... let’s just celebrate, okay? we still have time, right?" he tried, his voice softer now, hopeful.

you shook your head, looking down at the untouched food. "i don’t think i even have an appetite anymore," you muttered.

his chest tightened. "i already said sorry," he whispered, stepping closer. "what more do i have to do? please, let’s not fight again—"

you looked up at him, your eyes burning with something raw. "how can we not fight again when you’re always like this? you haven’t changed at all, haechan," your voice wavered, but you didn’t stop. "you’re still the same person who promised me you'd do everything for this relationship, when you can’t even do one thing."

his breath hitched. he bit down hard on his lower lip, but it didn’t stop the sting in his eyes. your words hurt. and maybe what hurt more was that... you were right.

JAEMIN:

“don’t go.” jaemin’s voice wavered as he grabbed your wrist, his fingers curling around it gently, almost like he was afraid you’d break if he held on too tight.

“i have to,” you said with a soft laugh, trying to ease the tension. “you know i have work at 9.” you tried to tug your arm away, but he didn’t let go.

he clenched his jaw, his grip firm but not painful. “we barely spent time together today... can’t you skip work? just this once? for me?” his voice softened, almost pleading. “today’s my free day, and i just... i wanted to be with you.”

you carefully slipped your hand from his grasp, stepping back. “i can’t just skip work like magic, jaem. i have a job too,” you said, your tone steady, but something in your chest ached.

he looked away, guilt settling on his face. “i know... i just... i feel like we’ve barely seen each other lately,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. he stood up, the space between you feeling wider than the few feet that separated you.

you scoffed, brows knitting together. “you called me at 6 p.m. last night, told me to come over, and then you just slept,” you said, voice sharper than you intended. “i know you’re tired, but how long are you going to be this selfish?”

jaemin’s eyes snapped to yours, hurt flashing through them. “selfish? all i did was love you—”

“love me?” you cut him off, your heart pounding. “you call that love? calling me over late at night and asking me to ditch work for you?” your voice cracked, and the realization hit you just as hard as the words you were saying.

he ran a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling quickly. “i’ve just been tired these past few days, okay? if it was too much, you could’ve told me to come over to yours instead,” he argued, voice strained. “i didn’t know i was a burden to you.”

you blinked at him, frustration boiling over. “so it’s my fault now? is it my fault you don’t try hard enough—”

“i don’t try?” he cut in, his voice loud enough to echo in the small space. “all i did was ask you to come over. was that too much? i didn’t mean to make it sound that way, but if you don’t want to, then fine. it’s not a problem.”

your heart sank, disbelief washing over you like cold water. “so it’s my fault?” you repeated, voice trembling. without another word, you grabbed your bag and stormed out, leaving jaemin standing there, staring at the door like he wished he could take everything back.

JISUNG:

“i have to go, i’ll come back later, alright?” jisung said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. he smiled, but the warmth faded when you suddenly pulled away from him.

he blinked, his smile disappearing. “did... did i do something wrong?” he asked, voice hesitant, eyes searching your face for an answer.

you crossed your arms, looking away. “you said you’ll go, so just go.” your voice was laced with disappointment, your chest tightening as you spoke.

jisung didn’t move. he just stood there, frozen in place, confusion written all over his face. “are you mad at me?” he asked, voice quieter now. “i promise i’ll just check the studio real quick and try to come back as soon as i can...” he trailed off, unsure of what to do.

you shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “i don’t know. you’re leaving me just to check something at the studio? can’t you do that tomorrow?”

he bit the inside of his cheek, nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “mark hyung asked me to come over... he said there’s a change in the choreo, and he wanted me to see it,” he explained, his voice uncertain, like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

“just go tomorrow,” you muttered, glancing at the clock.

jisung shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. “i wish i could... but mark hyung might not be free tomorrow, and he said it’s important to—”

“so you’re not busy? being with me doesn’t count as being occupied?” you cut him off, your words sharp, eyes burning as you looked at him.

jisung’s mouth fell open slightly, completely caught off guard. “h-huh? no, i never meant it like that, i just—” he stammered, words falling apart before he could even finish a sentence.

you sighed, turning away. “whatever. just go,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

jisung stood there, heart sinking, watching your back as he tried to figure out whether leaving or staying would hurt you more.

635 notes · View notes

heavensoutofsight · 1 month ago

Text

indulgence | b.e.

synopsis: you meet up with a woman at a dingy night club in attempts to forget about your horrible break-up with your ex; she's incredibly charming and easily the most attractive woman you've ever met. you're lonely and touch-starved, and this mysterious yet alluring woman makes you an offer you just can't deny. but -- you eventually come to the realization that there is more than what meets the eye with her.

tags/warnings: voyeurism, discussion of casual hook-ups/fwb relations, blood drinking, sexual content (oral sex, fingering, dom!billie), lots of swearing, angst if you squint really hard, fluffiness at the end

word count: 8.7k

author's note: okay there are a few things i want to clarify first. number one: billie's fangs are retractable. two: she can be out in the sun. just for the sake of the narrative 😭😭 sorry to any hardcore vampire lore fans. that's about it, just wanted to get that out of the way. DINNER IS SERVED ENJOYYY.

also here is a link to what i imagine billie wears during a certain scene... you'll know when you get there ;)

taglist: @brat-at-the-disco, @hannahluvsbillie, @karaeilishh, @rhearipley-69, @bilssturns, @bla1rxoxo, @billiesrighthand, @weluvwbb, @belleishot, @floweiralie, @natbelovasblog (forgot to add again omg)

You weren't much of a party person; you could really only enjoy small social gatherings with close friends at most, as anything bigger than that almost always had you mentally exhausted by the end of it; and yet, despite your distaste for big parties, you currently found yourself in a bustling club, filled to the brim with sweaty, gyrating strangers and music so loud you were certain you'd lose a little bit of your hearing later.

You were seated at the bar, watching the people on the dance floor move their bodies carelessly, drunken smiles plastered on everybody's faces. The multi-colored strobe lights vibrantly flashed, some of them flickering to the beat of the music.

The only reason you were here was because your friends insisted that you tag along; and while you would typically be against going to these kinds of places, you decided to entertain them just for one night—besides, they were just trying to be helpful. You were still trying to get over an ex-girlfriend of yours, and while the heartbreak was less painful now, given that it had been a few weeks, you were still clearly in the mourning process. You friends went on and on about how the club would be the perfect place to forget everything, and for a second, you foolishly thought that maybe they would be right, and you entertained their idea.

But, in reality, your ex was still on your mind, and going clubbing didn't seem to be much of a remedy at all. Neither the loud music, the crowded room, or even the alcohol could fully distract you from the heartache that you were still experiencing from the messiness that was your last relationship. If anything, sitting at the bar completely alone only made you feel a bit worse. You saw so many couples out on the dance floor, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy.

Eventually, your eyes found your friends; they were also on the dance floor, uncoordinated limbs flying all over the place as they moved to the beat. Just a few minutes ago they tried to get you to come with them, but you declined the offer, to which they all just smiled apologetically at you before leaving you at the bar. You were thankful that they respected your decision, although you did feel a bit bad for essentially rejecting them. But with the mood you were in right now, dancing just didn't sound very appealing.

At some point, the club was beginning to feel a bit stuffy; you could feel a thin coat of sweat forming on your skin and you weren't even moving. The peaceful quietness and cool weather of the outside sounded more than lovely at the moment, so after you quickly downed your beverage and tipped the bartender, you grabbed your things and headed for the exit, not even sparing your friends a glance.

Once you stepped out, you decided to sneak around to the back of the building, away from any watchful eyes. You leaned against the building's hard exterior, closing your eyes, taking in deep breaths. The clean air was refreshing compared to the nauseating stench of weed with a tinge of vomit from inside the club.

You were so focused on just escaping and getting some alone time that you failed to realize there were already a couple of people out here. You did realize they were there when you heard the unmistakable sound of a moan. It definitely wasn't a moan of pain, either.

Your eyes shot open, and you turned your head to where you heard the sound. Your eyes ever so slightly widened as you took in the sight before you.

It was two women; one of them, a blonde dressed in a black mini skirt with a matching sheer black top, both of which left absolutely nothing to the imagination, was being pinned to the wall by another, more masculine appearing, dark-haired woman who was clad in baggy, dark jeans, an equally baggy matching denim jacket, and a white tee, one that she was drowning in. The dark-haired woman had her mouth on her neck (probably giving her a hickey, you assumed) and her hand was clearly under her skirt. The blonde was enjoying every second, her perfectly manicured hands gripping the other woman's denim jacket and her eyes screwed shut in unadulterated passion.

You felt like a total creep, watching this unfold, but once again, you felt that familiar feeling of jealousy blossom within you as you watched this random woman ascend to cloud nine. You hadn't been touched like that in what felt like an eternity. Your last relationship went through a bit of a dry spell, especially toward the end of it. Sure, masturbation helped; but more than anything you craved the touch of another woman.

Your eyes stayed glued onto them. Even though there was a voice in the back of your head screaming at you to look away, you shamefully ignored it.

You watched as the dark-haired woman moved her hand faster, eventually pulling away from her neck, leaning in close to the woman she was pleasuring. She had begun whispering something to the blonde, something that made the blonde nod fervently. With the distance in between the two of you, you couldn't make out what was being said; but it was clear it had an effect on the woman.

At this point, the blonde woman wasn't exactly very quiet, her moans growing in volume, transitioning from light and breathy to loud and brash. The dark-haired woman simply put a hand over her mouth, continuing her ministrations down below, her hand moving at a crazy, relentless pace. You couldn't help but feel a wave of heat wash over you, pooling within your belly and traveling to your own nether regions. It was a bit embarrassing and it would definitely haunt you later, but you couldn't fight the natural reaction your body was having at that moment.

Eventually, the blonde woman very clearly reached her peak, her legs shaking like leaves and her cries of pleasure reaching a new pitch. Her eyes were open now and she was looking directly at the woman in front of her. She was still wailing profusely, even as she was coming down from her high, and the dark-haired girl didn't let up until the blonde tapped her shoulder a few times.

The dark-haired woman then removed her fingers from under the blonde's skirt. She slowly brought her two fingers to her mouth, sucking them clean right in front of her, never once breaking eye contact. You couldn't stop the way your jaw dropped slightly at the sight, feeling a faint but unmistakable throbbing sensation within your core now.

The blonde just laughed, leaning her head against the wall, wearing a fucked-out expression. “Holy shit, Billie,” you heard her say. “You're so fucking hot.”

The dark-haired woman, you presumed was named Billie, just smirked. “Mmm, right back at you, mama.”

The blonde just giggled some more, now leaning her head on Billie's shoulder. At the movement, you just barely heard her do a sharp, pained inhale, her hand clasping the side of her neck that Billie was showing a lot of love to earlier.

“This hurts,” the blonde woman whined. “It'll go away, right?”

Billie absentmindedly began fiddling with the woman's sheer top as she answered. “Yes, just give it a couple days, okay? Since the weather's getting cooler you can just cover it up with a scarf or something, no problem.”

“Good idea. If my boyfriend found out, I'd be fucking dead.”

“You still haven't dumped his ass yet?”

The blonde sighed. “I'm just… still figuring out how to break the news to him.”

“You told me that last time, Ashley.”

“I know, I know. Just give me, like, a week. Okay?” The blonde—named Ashley—said, twirling a strand of dark hair around her finger, biting her lip. Billie just leaned in, giving her one last messy kiss.

Billie pulled away first, giving her waist a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, sure, a week,” she stepped away, shoving her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket.

“I'll see you later, babygirl.” Billie said. Ashley just beamed at her, re-adjusting her skirt and heading back into the club, but not before finally meeting eyes with you on her way back in. Her smile dropped, and she looked at you with disgust.

“Perv.” Was all she said to you before leaving. You couldn't even feel completely offended, because you kinda were being a perv. The shame was really starting to kick in now. You dropped your eyes to the ground, hoping that the other woman wouldn't confront you either.

Unfortunately for you, she did exactly that. And the words that came out of her mouth were completely unexpected.

“Did you enjoy the show?” She asked. You foolishly looked around to see if there was possibly anybody else she could be talking to; of course, it was most definitely just you. You tensed, reluctantly meeting the woman's eyes. She was already staring at you, dark eyes still slightly hooded, a lazy grin resting on her face.

You nearly blurted out something about how fucking hot she was. Maybe you would have if not for the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment you were feeling right now.

“I'm- I'm really sorry, I– I don't know why I– I'm sorry. God, I'm a fucking creep– look, I can just leave, okay?” You uttered, your cheeks burning under Billie's heavy gaze. She only chuckled at your floundering (and it was by far the sexiest sound you've ever heard).

“Don't be sorry. Answer me.” she spoke, voice gentle but undeniably firm. She stepped a bit closer to you, repeating her words: “Did you enjoy the show?”

There was no denying how dominating her presence was. You didn't know this woman at all and yet you felt so compelled to do whatever she asked of you. It only made you even more embarrassed– you were so desperate for intimacy and attention that you were just about close to begging at the feet of the first attractive woman you ran into. You were a total mess.

“Um,” you started, your voice meek. “Yeah. I… I did.” You said, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up.

She chuckled once more. “Don't feel bad about it, it's okay. I'm kinda into that shit, to be honest.”

Her response just made your cheeks burn hotter. You weren't sure if she was joking or not, but either way, her words were certainly making an impact on you.

“Oh,” was the only word that left your mouth, your brain effectively shutting down in this woman's presence.

“Hm,” Billie began, looking at you inquisitively. “You're cute.”

“I– um– thank you.” You stammered out, internally cringing at your own awkwardness. Your panic in front of her was also going to haunt you later – probably for the rest of your life.

Billie just seemed highly amused at your predicament. “I love making pretty girls flustered,” She said. You didn't miss the way her eyes gave you a quick look up and down; she wasn't particularly subtle about it. “Could I fluster you some more over lunch? Or coffee, if that's more your thing.”

You were taken aback by her rather direct offer. Crossing your arms, you scoffed.

“Would your girlfriend be okay with that?”

Billie laughed. “Oh, Ashley? She's not my girlfriend. She just… comes to me when she needs to relieve some stress. It's nothing serious.”

“I see.” You said, nodding. “Stress relief, huh?”

“Yup. She's got an insensitive asshole for a boyfriend who has absolutely no idea how to even pleasure a woman."

"That's… tragic." You commented.

"Very," Billie replied. "So, when she needs to take her mind off of him for a bit… I'm there for her. Like a distraction of sorts."

She licked her lips, and you found yourself entranced by the simple action. She gazed at you curiously, a dangerous smirk resting on her face. She said her next words quietly as if anyone else was around to hear them. "We could all use a distraction sometimes, right?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You look like you could use one." Billie said suddenly, a teasing edge to her voice; there was no missing the underlying implication in that sentence, and you couldn't help the smirk that grew on your face.

"You think I need a distraction?"

"Yeah. I can kinda sense these things."

A light chuckle escaped you at that. "Really now? Well… I guess you wouldn't be wrong." You replied, briefly thinking back to the reason you were here in the first place. Obviously, clubbing was not helping you in forgetting about your ex like you hoped it would. Maybe what you truly needed was a fun little hook-up with no strings attached.

Billie could tell that you were deeply pondering your response, and she spoke up again. "You know, I can give you a really good time..." She insisted, her voice lowering in a way that made you feel cartwheels in your stomach.

You still hesitated a bit; although Billie was the hottest woman you've ever laid eyes on, you didn't really have experience with causal relationships. You had heard some horror stories from your friends about their own causal hook-ups about how messy and damaging they could be. But at the same time, walking away from a woman whose looks could rival Aphrodite felt like a crime.

"Well… I-"

"How about this," Billie interrupted. "Give me your hand."

You just stared at her, confused, eyebrows furrowed.

"O… kay?" You said, eventually doing as she asked. When you stuck out your hand, Billie was quick to dive her own into the large pocket of her denim jacket, pulling out a pen. She took your palm into a surprinsingly cold hand and began hastily writing something on it--you very quickly realized that they were numbers.

"That's my number," Billie said, putting the lid to her pen back on and returning it to its place in her pocket. "When you've made up your mind, just call me, and we can go out and get to know each other a bit, yeah?" She said with a grin that made your heart flutter.

You looked down at the number sprawled messily across your palm, and then back at her. You gave her a shy smile.

"Alright. Sure." You replied.

"Great." Billie said, grin widening into a smile of her own. "You have a good rest of your night—"

"Wait." You said, stopping her from walking off. She was silent as she waited for you to continue, staring at you with expectancy.

"Do you… do you just carry around a pen with you all the time, or…?"

Billie laughed at that, and you immediately found yourself replaying the sound in your head.

"Of course I do. I need to have it on me just in case I run into any pretty girls like you." She spoke, the flirtatious words easily and smoothly pouring out of her like butter. You let out a giggle, biting your lip to stop your smile from growing any bigger. You were feeling like a hormonal teenager all over again because of this mysterious woman's charm. You had a feeling that she probably used that line on a ton of women, but it didn't make you feel any less like a flustered mess.

Billie seemed to thoroughly enjoy your reaction to her shameless flirting, her own smile never once leaving her lips.

At that moment, the heated tension between the two of you was intercepted as a familiar face rounded the corner.

"Oh my god, there you are—" your friend, Carly, exclaimed. Surprisingly, she didn't seem super drunk, only mildly buzzed, her face flushed, hairs sticking to her forehead due to a light coating of sweat.

"I was looking everywhere for you—oh. Hello." Carly suddenly noticed Billie's presence.

Billie's smile faltered a bit at the sudden appearance of another person. "Uh… hey." She said.

"Um… was I interrupting something?" Carly spoke. You saw her wiggling her eyebrows, which immediately caused you to roll your eyes.

"You ready to go?" You asked, ignoring her question.

"Are you?" She retaliated with a knowing smirk. You glanced at Billie, who wore an unreadable expression.

"Don't let me keep you." Billie uttered, and the slight hint of disappointment in her voice was just barely noticeable. "You seemed kinda tired anyway."

"Yeah," you replied quietly, feeling awkwardness creep into the atmosphere. You looked back at Carly. "We can go." You said. Carly nodded, grabbing your hand. As the two of you began walking toward the front of the building, you stole one last glance at Billie.

Her smirk had returned, and while making a phone gesture with her hand, she mouthed the words: "Call me?"

You just shrugged, a smirk of your own tugging at the corners of your lips as you disappeared around the corner.

Eventually, you and Carly made it back to the car, where your other friends were in the backseat, completely knocked out. Since you had barely anything to drink, you decided to be the one to drive.

The ride back to your place was quiet for a while, the car radio softly playing some songs from Carly's playlist. Soon enough, though, your slightly tipsy friend in the front seat next to you piped up.

"So… you gonna tell me all about that fucking hottie back there?" She asked. Your eyes were locked on the road, not even looking at her, but you could hear the teasing smile in her voice.

"She just… walked up to me. She was already out there."

"Was she hitting on you?"

You felt your cheeks heat up thinking back to your brief conversation with her. "Yeah… I think she was."

"Oh my god. Please tell me you got her number. If I find out you walked away from her without getting those fucking digits I swear to god—"

"Yes, she gave me her number." You said, chewing on your bottom lip, once again trying to stop a smile from growing— you couldn't have your friend seeing just how smitten you were already for a girl you knew for all of twenty minutes.

You heard Carly gasp excitedly. "Holy shit. Girl, you better fucking pounce on that. Before I do."

"You literally have a girlfriend."

"Yeah, well, we've been talking about having an open relationship lately, so… she wouldn't mind."

You couldn't hold back your surprised laughter. "Oh my god." You said through a fit of chuckles.

The rest of the car ride home, you couldn't stop thinking about thr mysterious, dark-haired woman. You couldn't stop thinking about that devilish smirk she wore. You couldn't stop thinking about her intoxicating scent.

Yeah. You were definitely calling that number.

"Okay, so… how do I look?" You asked your friend Carly via video call, standing in front of the mirror while you filmed yourself adjusting your flowy, white blouse. You hadn't gone out on a date in ages—to say that you were quite nervous was putting it lightly.

"You look gorgeous. You're totally getting some tonight." Carly said. You chuckled at that, rolling your eyes and feeling warmth rush to your face.

"Oh, shut up," you said playfully. Looking at the screen, you saw Carly shrug, sporting a teasing smile.

"What? Isn't that the end goal?" She questioned.

"I mean… I would say the end goal is not making a fool out of myself." You replied earnestly, your stomach feeling as if it was in knots currently; Bilie had already texted you a few minutes ago saying she was on her way, and any second now she'd appear right outside your house. You really hoped you wouldn't turn into babbling idiot upon seeing her face.

"That's not gonna happen," Carly reassured. "You've gone on plenty of dates before, what's different this time?"

"It's been a million years, Carly." You stated.

"So what? Just… keep doing what you've always done, y'know? Be yourself."

You let the truth of your friend's words really set in, and you began to feel yourself relax ever so slightly. You breathed in and out, now looking at yourself in the mirror with a newfound confidence. You hoped that confidence would be here to stay.

"You always know just what to say." You spoke, your tone a mix of playful and sincere.

"Of course. I'm a genius." Carly jokingly replied. You smiled, opening your mouth to respond, when you suddenly heard your doorbell ring.

You froze, and you couldn't ignore the way your heart rate increased in mere seconds.

"Oh shit, she's here." You said with barely contained enthusiasm. "I gotta go. Thanks for the fashion advice."

Carly grinned, giving you a wink. "Any time. Hope you have the best sex of your li-"

You hung up on her in the middle of your sentence, once again rolling your eyes at your friend's bluntness, wearing an amused smile.

You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, quickly straightening out your shirt and pants and doing last minute readjustments to your hair. You did all of this in the span of a few seconds, not wanting to keep Billie waiting for too long. Soon enough, you were exiting your bathroom and heading toward your front door, grabbing your purse on the way.

You were not at all prepared for what you'd be greeted with upon opening it.

There Billie stood, her long, shiny dark hair down and framing her face beautifully. She was wearing a standard black suit, one that was stylishly oversized, with a matching black tie and simple, thin glasses that rested perfectly on her nose. In the daylight, she appeared paler than you initially thought, but no less gorgeous. When her eyes locked onto your face, she gave you a grin that caused a million and one butterflies to viciously attack your stomach. You also didn't miss the way her eyes quickly gave you a once over, her bottom lip being pulled between her teeth briefly as she took you in.

"Hey, pretty girl. You look absolutely stunning."

Immediately, you found yourself looking down at the ground shyly, a wide smile overtaking your features. "Thank you, Billie." You replied. Your eyes met her again, and you gazed appreciatively at her own outfit once more.

"You look… wonderful as well." You said. She also looked like the sexiest woman alive but you didn't want to lay it on too thick too soon.

"Thanks," Billie replied, still sporting that lazy grin. "You got everything?"

"Um… yeah. Yes." You spoke nervously. Billie just chuckled endearingly at your slightly anxious disposition.

"Okay, then. Let's go." She said, offering you her arm to hold onto. It was such a simple action, and yet you already felt yourself swooning.

She politely walked you to the car (which was just as sexy as the person driving it, you noted), and when you both got there, Billie was quick to open the door to passenger's seat for you. The chivalrous, gentlemanly action made your heart warm, and you were sure to mutter a shy "thank you" in response.

The car ride to the restaurant (a sandwhich place specifically, one that was your favorite—Billie let you choose), was pleasant and comfortable, the sound of Billie's playlist softly playing from her car's speakers. You couldn't help but shamelessly stare at Billie as she drove, her gaze locked on the road ahead of her. Sometimes, she drove with one hand for a bit, and whenever she did you were thankful that you were already seated because otherwise your knees would have buckled at the sight.

You were only pulled out of your ogling when you noticed Billie had turned the music down.

"So," she began, smiling cutely. "How was your day?"

"Boring, for the most part. I was at work just feeling… antsy. I've been really looking forward to this." You replied honestly.

"Me too. I was… really hoping you'd call." Billie said, her voice getting a tad smaller in volume toward the end of the sentence, seemingly a little shy about her confession, which you found positively endearing since she was normally so flirtatious and bold (from what you've seen of her so far, anyway).

"Is that so?" You replied with a grin. "Well, I would have been the world's biggest idiot to not call you. It only took me a while because I was, uh…" you trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrasment wash over you.

At a red light, Billie glanced at you quizzically, wondering why you had cut yourself off. "You were…?"

You chuckled, absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your blouse. "I was, um… nervous."

"Nervous?" Billie repeated, and even though you were no longer looking at her, you could hear the teasing lilt to her voice.

"Yeah," you confirmed in a meek voice, chuckling some more—it was something you often did automatically when anxious, like a reflex.

"So you're saying… I make you nervous."

You felt your face heat up even more, so much so that sticking your head in a bucket of cold ice water felt highly appealing at the moment. "Well—I mean, it's been a while since my last date, so that's definitely why, but… I guess it is also because of you." You said.

You heard Billie let out an adorable giggle of her own. "God, you're so fucking cute." You heard her say quietly, under her breath almost, like she didn't want you to hear—but of course, you caught onto to every word, and the compliment only unleased the butterflies within your stomach yet again.

"Well, pretty girl, you don't have to be nervous around me. You don't find me intimidating, do you?" Billie asked playfully.

"Well, not neccessarily intimidating, just… really funny. And beautiful. I wanna make a good impression."

Billie smirked. "You already made a good first impression at that club the other night."

"Really?" You said with a groan as you recalled the events of that night and your embarrassing actions. "Even though I was… kinda being a weirdo?"

"I told you, I found it hot."

"You were being serious about that?" You said through breathy laughter.

"Of course I was."

"You are… something else." You said, to which Billie just smiled.

Several minutes of playful banter later, you and Billie had finally made it to the quaint little sandwich shop. It was a small place, and the atmosphere was quiet and tranquil as there were only a few other customers spread out in the building. The both of you chose to sit in a cozy booth, in front of a large window that looked out to various people going about their day, the sunlight providing natural lightning that filled the entire area. Upon sitting down, a waitress was already coming to serve the both of you, taking both of your orders for drinks and handing you the menu before shuffling away. You got the same thing every time you came here, so you really didn't look at the menu much at all. You glanced at Billie, who only browsed through the menu for a couple of minutes before setting it down and placing it aside. She seemed to have decided what she wanted fairly quickly.

"So," Billie began with a grin. "Do you come to this place a lot?"

"Yeah. It's great. Have you been here before?"

Billie shook her head. "Nope, first time. Honestly, I don't really… eat out much."

"I see. You more of a delivery person? Or, do you prefer cooking?"

"Uh… sure. Yeah." Billie replied a little awkwardly, shifting in her seat. You weren't sure what she was saying "yeah" to, the delivery part or the cooking part, but you didn't think anything of it, finding her more endearing than anything.

She cleared her throat. "You already know what you're getting?"

"Yup. I get the same thing every time. This place makes a killer BLT," You replied. "What about you? I noticed you didn't look at the menu for very long. Something caught your eye already?"

"The roasted cauliflower sandwich sounds good."

"Ooh, it does," You said, picking up the menu to find the sandwich in question to briefly read the ingredients. You noticed that it was under the vegan section.

"You're vegan?" You asked, not in a accusatory way but simply out of pure curiosity.

Billie cleared her throat before replying. "Uh—yeah. Have been my whole life." she spoke, absentmindedly fiddling with the several rings on her fingers.

"I've tried going vegan, but there's just so many foods I can't pass up."

Billie chuckled. "Yeah, well, it's certaintly not the kind of diet that suits everyone."

"That's true." You agreed.

Shortly after your brief conversation, you both ordered your food, and much to your surprise (and delight) the food arrived fairly quickly, and you and Billie didn't have to wait for very long.

While you felt a little awkward initially, as time went on, you found yourself relaxing more and more in Billie's presence. The two of you meshed well together; you both had similar senses of humor and equally found each other hilarious, and you even had a lot of things in common in terms of hobbies. During your date with Billie you also discovered that she had two adorable pitbulls, an older brother, a job as a music producer and songwriter, and that she used to be in a choir growing up. Every little thing that you learned about her only made you love her more, and frankly you didn't want the date to end. Billie never at any point slowed down the conversation, and she was so attentive when you were speaking, her eyes fixed on you the entire time as she asked several follow-up questions, hanging onto your every word. You didn't expect to mesh so well with her, and for a second, you almost forgot that the whole reason this started was because you both wanted a casual hook-up and nothing serious. At the reminder, you felt a twinge in your heart; the last thing you wanted was to fall in love with someone who clearly wasn't looking for commitment, so you shoved those feelings away for now.

When there was finally a lull in conversation between the both of you, you felt like it was necessary to talk more in detail about your particular… arrangement.

"So, uh…" You began, shifting a bit in your seat. "We should probably talk about our… y'know. Situation."

Leaning back in her seat, Billie seemed to immediately catch what you were throwing at her. "Right," she said with a smirk. "What about it?"

"Well… how exactly does a casual relationship even work? To be honest, I've never really—I mean, I just don't have much experience with—"

"We can just hang out. Y'know, like friends. Friends who fuck occasionally." Billie said, and her bluntness had your eyebrows raising slightly.

"Oh. Okay." You said, and at your expression of surprise, contagious laughter arose from Billie's throat.

"Cute," she muttered to herself before leaning in a bit closer to you, pushing her now clean plate aside and placing her arms on the table. "Anyway, that's what you want, right? I don't want you to agree to anything that you're iffy about it. You're free to change your mind about this whole thing."

Your heart warmed at Billie's consideration. You took a moment to actually think about it; even though casual was never really your thing, your friends all insisted that you might enjoy the freedom that comes with a no-strings attached relationship, and you felt like you might as well give it go since you only live once, after all. You hoped it wouldn't end in a total heartbreak—although, if it did, you'd probably get good sex out of it, which was kind of a silver lining.

You met Billie's eyes with a serious gaze. "Yes. I do want this."

"Okay… and you're cool with this relationship being open? As in, we can both see other people while also seeing each other?"

Honestly, with how attractive Billie was physically and personality wise, you didn't see yourself spending time with another woman, but you agreed anyway, nodding your head. "Yeah. That's fine."

At that, a smile grew on Billie's lips. "Okay. Great."

Having eaten a good meal and talked about all the important stuff, you and Billie finally left the sandwich shop, right as the sun was dipping past the horizon. The sky was a beautiful mix of oranges and pinks, and it had cooled down a bit, a slight breeze in the air. You and Billie both agreed that you didn't want the date to stop there, so the two of you rather impulsively decided to take a walk in the park, admiring the sunset side by side. Even then, it was like you could never run out of things to talk about with Billie. Your first date with your ex wasn't even this long, surprisingly.

Unfornately, it was getting late, and Billie had to drive you back home. But even when she walked you all the way to your door, you still didn't feel like the day was over.

You had your key in the door, but before turning it, you looked at Billie with a contemplative gaze.

"Y'know… the night's still young," you began, wearing a crooked grin. "Do you want to come in, Billie?"

Billie bit her lip as she smiled knowingly.

"I'd love to." She replied, and your grin turned into a wide smile of your own as you finally opened the door, inviting her inside.

It was totally innocent at first. Billie had made herself comfortable, taking off her shoes and her blazer. The two of you decided to put on a movie, and at first, you both were sitting with a respectable amount of distance between the two of you; but at some point during the movie, you both grew closer to each other, unknowingly. There was also a moment where Billie wrapped an arm around your shoulder, and you instantly felt yourself melting into her side. The two of you fit together so naturally, like you were both missing pieces to a puzzle. Her vanilla-scented perfume was intoxicating, and so was the warmth of her touch.

At some point, you weren't really focusing on the movie anymore. You placed a sly hand on Billie's thigh, not moving it; just keeping it there, but when Billie didn't respond, keeping her eyes on the film, you squeezed ever so gently.

That's when Billie looked at you then, raising an eyebrow.

"To be honest, Billie…" you said, meeting her eyes. "This movie is kinda boring."

Billie grinned. "I thought so too," she replied, her eyes briefly flickering down to your lips.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked her, but you definitely already knew the answer and just wanted to tease.

"I'm thinking about… kissing the shit out of you."

You leaned in impossibly closer to her, your voice barely above a whisper as you responded with, "What's stopping you?"

At that, Billie didn't hesitate, immediately closing the small distance between the both of you. One of your hands went up to cup her face as you passionately moved your lips against hers. Billie tilted her head, deepening the kiss, and after only a couple of minutes you felt her tongue swipe at your bottom lip, silently asking for permission. You didn't waste a second in giving her what she so politely was asking for, opening your mouth slightly and feeling the tip of your tongue meet hers.

At some point, without even fully realizing it, you had climbed into Billie's lap; her hands were gripping your waist tightly, as if you'd disappear into thin air if she let go for so much as a second. The glasses that rested atop her nose were shifting a bit, and she pulled away for a split second to hastily remove them and throw them elsewhere on the couch before immediately going back to kissing you.

As time went on, things only got more intense; in your growing neediness, you found yourself slowly grinding into her lap, and Billie's hands slowly moved from your waist to your ass, guiding your movements. You needed her like you needed oxygen, and with every passing second your clothes were feeling more and more like annoying barriers.

You pulled away reluctantly, looking at Billie with eyes blown wide and lips shiny with spit. You tugged on the black tie that she was still wearing.

"You are sexy as hell in this suit, but I need you out of it."

Billie let out a laugh, one that sounded a bit breathless. "That can be arranged, baby." She said, and the pet name that rolled off her tongue made you swoon.

You both stood up, going back to kissing each other, trying to walk to your bedroom at the same time. You stumbled into walls and corners here and there, giggling the entire way.

When you both made it to your bedroom, Billie had kept walking you toward your bed until your knees hit the edge of it; you instinctively laid down, and Billie quickly crawled on top of you, keeping some of her weight off of you as she continued attacking your lips.

Eventually, she began kissing down to your neck, biting and sucking, and you even heard her inhale, feeling her nose pressed into your skin.

"Fuck," Billie groaned. "You—you smell so good. Holy shit."

You grinned at that. "You can still smell the perfume I chose for you?"

"Yeah, I can but—I meant you. Your skin."

"Oh," you said, letting out some surprised chuckles. "So it's my body wash you like?"

"Yeah… yeah, that…" Billie trailed off, continuing to pepper your neck in kisses and small bites. You were letting out pleased sighs the entire time, your eyes fluttering shut. You felt Billie's fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

"Can I take this off?" She asked you, tugging at it impatiently. You immediately nodded with zero hesitation, and Billie made quick work of removing the article of clothing, throwing it haphazardly to the floor. You sat up a bit to remove your bra, lazily throwing it elsewhere as well. You watched Billie's hooded eyes take in your shirtless form, her eyes widening ever so slightly as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Oh my god." She muttered under her breath. "I want to devour you." She just barely whispered.

Your felt heat rush to your face at her words. "Please do. But take off your shirt, first." You said with a playful smirk.

Billie chuckled, following your command. She removed the tie, and with a painful slowness unbuttoned her clean, white shirt. Even just seeing her in her pretty lace bra was enough to leave you breathless.

Soon enough, the bra was off too, and your mouth watered at the sight of her breasts looking so soft and perfect—but before you could even suggest playing with them for a bit, Billie returned to kissing down your body, and immediately, all thoughts left your mind.

Her mouth latched onto a nipple, and you gasped, squirming underneath her as her tongue swirled around the hardening bud. Her other hand played with the other one, tugging gently. Your eyes were shut again, focusing closely on the pleasurable sensations you were experiencing.

Billie gave the same treatment to your other breast, this time switching it up a bit by quickly flicking her tongue up and down, and you already felt your back arching a bit, your gasps turning into drawn out whines.

"Billie," you moaned. "Fuck, please—"

Billie released your breast from her mouth with an audible pop. "What do you want, baby?" She teased.

You tried pushing her further down, attempting to silently communicate to her where you really needed her mouth. But Billie wasn't taking your whiny pleas as an answer.

"You're a big girl, mama. Use your words." Billie said, her attractive voice low and stern. The way the new pet name sounded in her voice nearly made you lightheaded and you desperately needed to hear it again. You let out an impatient groan, but you were no doubt enjoying every minute of this.

"Please, Billie—I want your mouth," You pleaded. "Please. Please give it to me."

"Where do you want my mouth, baby? Gotta be more specific." She said with an evil smirk on her face. With every passing minute, you felt the throbbing sensation in your cunt become more and more unbearable, and that damn look on Billie's face only made it worse.

"Fuck—need your tongue on my pussy, Billie, please."

At that, Billie gave you a pleased smile. "Atta girl." She said, already moving her hands to the buttons of your jeans. You raised your hips, helping Billie in removing them from your lower body, along with your socks. You instictively spread your bare legs, suddenly feeling a little bit embarrased at the wet spot that you no doubt knew was prominent on your cotton underwear. You watched as Billie licked her lips, staring at your cunt as if she was in a trance.

She hadn't even done anything yet but you were already gripping the bedsheets in anticipation.

At that moment, she took two fingers, hooking them around the waistband of your underwear and pulling them, before suddenly releasing and letting the waistband snap back against your skin. You let out a surprised yelp, which Billie chuckled at, before moving those fingers directly against your fabric-covered cunt.

"Can fucking feel how wet you are—can see it, too," Billie said, expertly finding your clit even through your underwear and rubbing it in slow circles that made you squirm. "I want you to cum in my mouth, mama. How does that sound?"

You nearly moaned at her words alone. "Yes—yes, fuck, please." Was all you could muster, your body and mind completely overcome with unadultered desire. You don't remember the last time you felt so turned on, so needy.

When Billie was done teasing you through fabric, she slowly began to remove your underwater, tossing them aside once they were fully off. Your pussy lay bare in front of her, glistening and clenching around nothing, and Billie gasped.

"Look at this pretty fucking cunt, all for me," she said, her breathe hitting your folds. "Goddamn."

"Billie, I swear to god—"

You were about to complain about how slow she was being until you suddenly felt her mouth on your soft thighs. She peppered small kisses there, purposefully avoiding the place you needed her the most. She did this for a minute or two, leaving your whole body on edge.

But finally—finally, you felt her two fingers spread you open a bit more, messily spitting directly onto your center, before she gave your needy pussy one long and slow stripe of her tongue, her lips gently closing around your clit when she reached the top. Immediately, your head was thrown back into the pillows and your hands flew into Billie's hair, gripping tightly.

"Yes—fuck yes, Billie," you cried out, pure bliss washing over you as Billie moved her tongue against your heat with so much skill and practiced ease. She went into a steady pattern, licking around your clit in circles before gently sucking it, while also not forgetting to give you broad, long strokes every now and then. You were writhing around a lot more now, and Billie had to hold you down, keeping your legs forced open so you couldn't close them around your head. She held onto you, tightly, not letting you escape her tongue for so much as a second. You felt like you were in heaven.

You tried not to pull her hair too hard, but Billie didn't even seem to care, too busy devouring you like you were her last meal on earth. She played your body like an instrument, knowing exactly which buttons to press that made you lose all sense of reality.

“Oh my god, Billie– fuck.” You cursed, feeling completely overwhelmed by the immense amount of pleasure you were receiving. With your eyes closed, it allowed you to really hone in on every precise swipe of Billie's tongue– and eventually, her fingers.

You felt two of Billie's slender digits push into you, while her tongue started focusing directly on your bundle of nerves. That was enough to make you squeal, your legs attempting to close around Billie's head, but failing due to her keeping them pried open.

She was thrusting her fingers in and out of you at a fairly quick pace, and her lips never stopped their gentle suction around your clit. The combination of her fingers against your walls and the direct clit stimulation very quickly brought you close to your peak, your eyes squeezed shut and your chest moving up and down rapidly. You felt a tightening sensation within your stomach, and it was getting tighter every passing second. When you felt your orgasm on the rise, you decided to open your eyes, wanting to look at Billie's face while you climaxed. It was no surprise when they fluttered open that you were met with Billie's eyes already on you, staring at you hungrily.

“Billie– fuck, don't you dare fucking stop,” you squeezed out in between loud moans. Billie obliged, not stopping or slowing down for so much as a second, well aware of how close you were—even though she hadn't known you for long, she could easily tell when a woman was at the edge, the subtle changes in body language extremely noticeable to her keen eyes.

You felt it—as Billie kept up with her ministrations, looking at you with her intense gaze, it quickly became too much for you. The tightening sensation in your gut finally reached its peak, and you felt yourself tumbling into an orgasm, fast.

"Oh my god—fuck yes, Billie—fuck—!"

Your orgasm washed over you in waves; the feeling was pure euphoria, your toes curling and your hands flying out of Billie's hair to clutch the sheets with a death grip instead. Your back arched beautifully, and while you were still feeling every little shock, Billie didn't let up, allowing you to ride out the sensation of your orgasm until it gradually faded away. It wasn't until your legs were twitching and you were gently pushing her away that she slowed down, and eventually removed her mouth from your center.

When you were able to open your eyes, you looked down at Billie, noticing how the lower half of her face glistened with your juices and how her eyes glazed over. You were suddenly feeling shy again at the mess you made.

Your head went back into the pillow as you let out an airy laugh, still trying to catch your breath.

"Fuck, Billie… I want you all to myself." You said in a daze, not even fully aware of the sentence that left your mouth.

"Me too," you heard Billie reply. "God, I want more."

Billie sounded starved, as if eating you out wasn't enough for her. You chuckled.

"Just—just give me a minute, and then maybe we can—"

Suddenly, you felt a sharp, prickly sensation. Billie was biting you—but it didn't feel like the gentle, playful bites that Billie was giving you earlier. This bite was painful.

You gasped.

"Billie—ow! Fuck, that hurts—"

But then, the pain slowly morphed into something more pleasurable. Your brain was completely confused at the dual sensations.

You let out a moan as you felt Billie's mouth remain in place. You looked down, still too fucked out to fully process what was happening, but you saw Billie's mouth latched onto your thigh, her eyes closed in bliss. Your eyebrows furrowed.

It wasn't until Billie pulled away that your eyes completely widened—in fear.

There were two puncture wounds in your thigh, and you saw two very sharp teeth in Billie's mouth that strangely were not there just a few minutes ago. There was a red substance pouring from your puncture wounds and dripping from Billie's mouth—obviously blood.

"Billie? What—what the fuck?" You said, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

Billie stared back at you, a sudden expression of shock taking over her face like she only just now realized what she had done.

"I'm so sorry—shit," She exclaimed, panic in her voice. "Something came over me—I was just so hungry, fuck."

That was the last thing you heard before your head hit the pillow again and everything went black.

When you awoke, you were greeted with your bedroom ceiling. The room was dim, and you could tell that the sole light source was coming from the lamp on your bedside table.

You felt dizzy, so you didn't make any sudden moves just yet. You laid there, trying to piece together everything that happened the past few hours. It didn't take you long for your memories to come rushing back in. You looked down and noticed that you were atop the covers; your puncture wound was no longer bleeding.

Fangs. A bite mark. Blood. Billie.

You turned your head, and there Billie was, also staring up at the ceiling, her shirt that was previously discarded covering her frame again. She saw you move out of the corner of her eye, and immediately, she was facing you, rolling over onto her side. You could feel her breathe fan across your face.

"Hey, baby," She said softly. "Are you okay?"

You slowly sat up, wincing at the pain you felt in your thigh. Billie looked at you apologetically, also sitting up alongside you.

"Billie… you have some explaining to do."

She sighed. "I know… I'm so sorry—"

"And— I have a lot of fucking questions."

"I totally understand. I'll tell you everything you wanna know. I'll explain everything. I swear. I'm sorry, baby."

"It's…" you trailed off, releasing a sigh of your own. Your eyelids were still heavy with fatigue. "It's okay, Billie."

She looked at you with her eyebrows raised in surprise. "You're not… afraid of me? You're not gonna kick me out?"

"No. I'm not." You told her sincerely. "I just—it feels like I'm dreaming. I can't believe you're… you're a…"

"I know it's a lot to take in." Billie interjected. You scoffed.

"That's putting it lightly."

"Look," Billie began, gently holding one of your hands. You tensed a bit when she touched you, but eventually relaxed.

"I shouldn't have bitten you. Without your consent. But I just—I can't control my actions when I go too long without feeding. It's… a whole thing that I can explain later, but—"

"Billie." You interrupted, squeezing her hand.

She looked at you with eyes full of guilt; it was clear she felt terrible about what she had done, and it warmed your heart to see how sorry she felt.

"Can you… stay the night? I just want you to hold me. I'm tired." You said.

Billie seemed taken aback at your request, clearly not expecting such a response. She was frozen for a while, processing your words, before eventually nodding.

"Yeah. I can do that." She replied. You gave her a tired, barely there smile, one that she returned.

The two of you laid back down together, getting under the covers, Billie wrapping an arm around you as you nestled into her chest. You could feel her bare legs underneath the blankets; she had discarded her pants at some point.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you'd ever come into close contact with a vampire—those were creatures that, for a long time, you thought only existed in fiction. But now one was holding you and kissing your head and laying with you, and even though you had a million questions plaguing your mind, all you wanted to focus on was the pretty girl you were cuddling with.

You quietly laughed to yourself at the absurdity of it all.

"What?" Billie said, ears catching the sound of your chuckles.

"Nothing," you said. "Thanks, Billie. For the date."

"Of course." She replied, and you could hear the smile in her voice.

The both of you would definitely talk later, but for now, you only cared about the lovely vampire woman keeping you company.

(dividers by @/strangergraphics)

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish smut #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x female reader #billie eilish x fem!reader

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neocitylights · 4 months ago

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SUMMARY: As you move into the building, your mysterious neighbor’s music becomes a quiet—and secret—comfort to your heart, enough for you to send them an anonymous letter. When you unexpectedly meet Mark, your connection soon growing between late-night conversations and shared meals, you find yourself falling in ways you hadn’t expected. Curiously enough, as your worlds start to overlap, you realize that there’s more to Mark and your mysterious neighbor than you’ve ever imagined. GENRE: Romance, fluff, non-idol au, strangers to lovers, songwriter!Mark WORD COUNT: 9k WARNINGS: Cursing, suggestive themes

Moonlight welcomes you home as you finish yet another long day of seemingly endless lectures, the gleam slipping through the curtains of your living room as you slip off your shoes, dropping the heavy book bag by the door.

The apartment is quiet, as you’re coming home a little later than usual, and with a chaotic day behind you, all you need is a hot shower, a warm meal and the softness of your bed.

As you’re stripping your top off, halfway through the bathroom, you hear it—the soft, slow notes from a piano drifting through the walls of your neighbor’s apartment and into yours. The mysterious, upstairs neighbor, as you like to call them now.

It’s not the first time that the music makes its way into your place. Even though you’re yet to meet whoever resides right above you, with an impressive array of instruments at that, you’re always delighted to hear them play, especially during days like today where you’re exhausted both mentally and physically.

Today, you can recognize the melody, but can’t quite put your finger on which song it is.

Making a beeline for your bedroom instead, you sink into your bed, half-dressed as you let the sound take over your mind. A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, your brain subconsciously filling the gaps as you start to hum the melody along.

Your mysterious neighbor and their music had slowly become a source of unexpected comfort to you.

Some days, you hear the delicate strumming of a guitar. Other days, the lightness of wandering piano notes. On special days though, you listen to the bold, intense riffs of an electric guitar instead. Every day, you welcome it, each time feeling a lullaby meant only for one night.

With the music still playing in the background, you follow through your routine in an almost dreamlike state. The mysterious neighbor plays long enough to last through your shower, unknowingly kind enough to give you the joy of having dinner with your own private live performance too.

As it stops, the silence almost feels awkward.

You can’t help but innocently imagine your neighbor, just a few steps away as they tuck in the instrument for the night, completely unaware of their unknown faithful audience.

The day is already drawing out to be a chaotic one.

As you dash out of your apartment in a rush, just barely hanging onto your bag and the coffee thermos in your hands, you mentally kick yourself for ignoring the alarm an extra time, fooling yourself that it was safe enough just for today.

You’re already unusually late, and to make matters worse, you’d dropped half of your notes as you were fumbling to lock your apartment and the elevator’s seemingly taking a lifetime to arrive at your floor.

A sigh escapes from your lips at the familiar chime of its opening doors.

You can’t help the clumsy commotion as you finally step into the cubicle, head down as you try to organize the mess of crumpled papers inside your bag, completely oblivious to the current company watching you with curious eyes.

It’s only when you literally bump into them that you finally look up, eyes wide in surprise. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you start, stepping back with an apologetic glance. “I swear I didn’t see you here.”

The guy offers you a quick, friendly smile, shoving his hands into his jacket’s pockets as he backs away, giving you more space.

With a hint of a chuckle laced to his voice, he shakes his head. “No worries.”

Attentively, you glance at him with a discrete side-eye—quickly recognizing him as a fellow neighbor from a few late night lobby encounters, usually when you’re coming back from school after TA days. He looks a little different today, hair shorter and a few shades darker, though the laidback, somewhat shy vibe around him stays the same.

Since you’re still rather new to the building and haven’t met a lot of people your age yet, you can’t beat your curiosity whenever he’s around. It doesn’t help that he’s also undeniably cute, with a quiet sort of charm that only adds to his character.

As the elevator’s doors finally close, you clumsily attempt to adjust your bag again, just for your thermos to clatter against the floor as you fumble around the attached keyrings.

It rolls around for a second before your neighbor swiftly reaches down to grab it, soon handing it over to you with a small smile. “I’m guessing this is an essential for busy mornings, right?”

You laugh, feeling a little flustered as your cheeks warm up. “You’ve got no idea. Sorry again, I swear I’m more composed than this.”

“I know,” he says, offering a nod as his smile grows bashfully. “I’ve never seen you around this hour, so I’m assuming you’re probably late.”

You pause, caught off guard by his words.

Given that you’ve only exchanged brief glances and polite smiles here and there whenever you met, it’s a surprise to know he’s observant enough to have noticed your routine at all. It makes you wonder if he’s noticed other things too, as you have with him.

“Very late,” you finally respond, offering a rather chagrined smile. “Not a very smart decision to ignore your alarms for a few more minutes of sleep, I guess.”

Visibly very entertained with your chaos, your neighbor shrugs as a chuckle escapes from his lips. “We’ve all been there, don’t stress too much about it.”

The elevator stops before you can reply, both of you stepping out into the lobby once the doors open. There’s a brief pause between you before he clears his throat, looking somehow both hesitant and effortlessly poised as he opens the building’s door for you to walk through first.

“Hey, good luck today,” he says, shooting you a sheepish wink as he nods. “It’s gonna be a better day from now on, trust me.”

Taken aback by the rather endearing attitude, you laugh, nodding back at him in delight. “I trust you.”

As you start the walk toward the station, you find yourself briefly glancing back over your shoulder, just in time to catch him watching you for a second before he turns around and heads off.

With the aroma of your burning candles spreading through the living room, your Friday evening falls to a quiet, hardly earned, peaceful break from work and school.

After a week of quizzes, readings, papers and presentations, it’s the first time in a while that you don’t have to think about the next assignment on your to-do list or papers waiting to be graded.

Under the dim lights of your apartment, you’re comfortably curled up on the couch with a cozy blanket, savoring the brief weekend pause.

Almost as if they knew exactly what you needed to add to your little atmosphere, sensing just the perfect time, you hear the faint harmony of the mysterious neighbor’s piano keys through the walls. Tonight, the notes are slower, gentle, almost as warm as the candles’ flames.

Completely taken by the music once again, you only break out of your reverie as you spot your journal on the dining table. Suddenly inspired, you decide that it’s only fair that your neighbor knows how much you appreciated their music—even if you have no idea who they actually are, apart from the fact that they’re right over you.

Without a second thought, with a pen and paper in hands, you let your heart write.

Dear neighbor,

Even though I’m not sure who you are or if we’ve met, I wanted to thank you through this letter. I’ve heard you play for a while now, and I can’t tell you how much comfort and happiness your music brings me. It truly brightens my day, takes a weight off my shoulders at night, pulls me away from my hectic days and gives me a moment to just breathe and appreciate the beautiful things in life.

I don’t know if you’re playing for anyone, or if it’s just for yourself, but I hope you know that I’m always amazed by it and how much it matters. You make the building feel a little warmer, my apartment feel a little more like home. Please, keep playing to your heart’s desires.

Gratefully,

Your neighbor

It’s already past midnight as Mark settles at the quiet studio, only a handful of people left in the building after a long day of brainstorming meetings for the next label releases.

Staring at the blank pages of his beat-up notebook, Mark starts to feel the fatigue catch up to his body, brain most definitely clocked out for the day as he can’t seem to think of anything but the annoying ache on his neck.

As he taps his pen against the crumpled paper, a small, folded letter rests neatly tucked between its worn pages—one that he might or might not have read at least a dozen times since finding it under his door a few weeks ago. Needlessly to say, Mark was nothing but surprised by the letter, moved by the thoughtful, kind words written by his neighbor.

Every time he reads it, a rather satisfying warmth takes over his chest, as if the person who’d written it knew something deeply personal about him without even knowing who he was, or even his name.

Too absorbed in his thoughts, Mark startles as Haechan and Johnny burst into the studio, both laughing until the youngest notes his friend’s guarded face.

“You look suspicious,” Haechan starts, eyes playfully scanning the studio in distrust. “I hope you aren’t doing anything nasty around here. We use this studio too, you know.”

Mark rolls his eyes, closing the notebook with a sigh. “You really need to learn how to shut up sometimes, Haechan.”

Quietly taking in the scene, Johnny leans over Mark, curiously eyeing the piece of paper sticking out of his notebook, distinctly decorated with a red star sticker at the top. “What’s that?”

The two youngest follow Johnny’s finger, pointing at the notebook on Mark’s lap.

As Mark’s stomach drops, he quickly attempts to tuck the letter back inside, distracting his friends from catching a glimpse of it. “It’s nothing, just something I was scribbling on.”

“No way,” Haechan starts, turning to Johnny with the widest grin on his face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Is that a love letter?”

“No,” Mark awkwardly cuts off, feeling his cheeks heat up under his best-friends’ scrutiny. “Who even sends love letters nowadays?”

Johnny scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “You would.”

“He fucking would,” Haechan repeats, eyes wide as if he’s having an epiphany. “Holy shit, you’re so corny, Mark.”

“I mean, Mark wasn’t the one making up excuses to stalk his mom’s employee every day, you know,” Johnny taunts, laughing when Haechan mocks an offended glance at his older friend.

Not able to resist their curiosity, knowing that he was eventually going to bend anyway, Mark sighs. “It’s a letter from my neighbor. Sometimes I play some music at home, whenever I’m stuck with something from here,” he explains quietly. “I guess they’ve been listening to it? I don’t know who they are but they left a letter to me a few days ago.”

Johnny and Haechan exchange a look, the latter letting out an incredulous laugh. “Your life is ridiculous. You got a love letter from your neighbor?”

“It’s not a love letter,” Mark argues, rolling his eyes. “It’s more of an… appreciation letter.”

Johnny nods, a knowing look taking over his face. “Can we read it? It’s fine if you don’t want us to, though.”

“It’s not fine.” Haechan frowns, a dramatic note to his voice. “What do you mean Mark got a love letter from his neighbor and we can’t read it?”

Mark does hesitate for a moment but ultimately hands the letter over to Johnny, watching his friend open the paper with careful fingers.

It’s funny to hear someone else read it. There’s a mix of embarrassment and a strange sense of satisfaction in his chest as Mark listens to Johnny’s voice say the words he’s read so many times by now, enough to have memorized it.

The letter sounds different—now that’s disconnected from him and no longer kept a secret, it definitely feels more real, more genuine.

“You make the building feel a little warmer, my apartment feel a little more like home,” Johnny finally reads, noticeably taken aback by it. “Please, keep playing to your heart’s desires.”

Haechan breaks the silence as Johnny finishes, looking as impressed as his older friend. “Damn. That was…”

“Actually really nice,” Johnny completes, a little more serious than Mark expects. “Do you have any idea who they are?”

Mark shakes his head, taking the letter back from Johnny’s hand and tucking it back inside his notebook. “No idea. I’m not sure if I want to know either.”

Haechan raises an eyebrow, grinning knowingly. “Are you really fine with never finding out who they are?”

For now, there’s something about the mystery that keeps it just for him. For now, Mark thinks that knowing might change the feeling, make it somehow less special. Besides, if the future wants him to know, then he’ll probably know.

As his fingers tap the notebook, almost as if sealing the secret inside of it, Mark nods.

“Maybe it’s better that way.”

A few hours into the evening, the small venue is already buzzing with energy, voices blending with the smooth, laidback background music of the cozy bar.

Mark’s not a stranger to the place, having attended a few open mics before with Johnny as a sidequest from his actual job. Today is a special day though—given Jaehyun’s giving a surprise secret performance of his new EP, it’s only fair of Mark to show his friend some support, especially after having worked on some of his songs together.

Besides, as a genuine music lover he does enjoy the atmosphere, the rawness of live music never failing to lift his mood even when he’s tired and overworked.

At the back of the bar, Mark waits for Johnny with a pint of beer in hand, his eyes trailing through the place as he watches a few artists cycling through with their instruments here and there.

Out of all things that could possibly happen tonight, Mark most definitely isn’t expecting to spot you there of all places.

Just a few feet away, you step by the bar with your friends, chatting and laughing as you approach the counter to place an order. He holds his breath for a moment, waiting for you to notice him as you briefly glance around. Convincing himself to play it cool, Mark swiftly turns his attention back to the bartender.

Just as his hand closes around his drink, he feels a presence stepping up beside him, a hand tentatively touching his arm.

“Hey neighbor,” you greet him, eyes bright in recognition as a smile tugs on your lips. “Seems like we’re running into each other everywhere lately, huh?”

Mark smiles back, feeling both glad and a bit nervous that you ultimately decided to approach him. “Seems like it, yeah. Though I’m a little surprised to see you here, to be honest.”

“Why?” You laugh, surprised. “I know it didn’t seem like it that day, but I am a normal person, you know.”

“Shit, no, I don’t mean it that way,” Mark objects right away, wide-eyed as he fumbles with the glass of beer in his hands. “It’s just that I’ve been here a lot so I kinda know the crowd, I guess?”

You hum, moving to lean over the counter right beside him with a frown between your eyebrows. “I don’t think we’ve ever introduced ourselves properly, have we?”

As you give him your name, reaching out a hand to him with an amused smile on your lips, he can’t help awkwardly taking the handshake. When the hold lingers for a second longer than expected, Mark realizes he’s holding your gaze for just as much.

Playing it off with a cough, he pulls back to clumsily gesture toward the stage. “So, do you know anyone… you know, performing tonight?”

“Not really. My friends found this place, I just thought it’d be cool to check it out,” you explain, curious eyes glancing around. “What about you? If you’ve been here before, I bet you know someone.”

“Yeah, my friend Jaehyun is actually doing a few songs tonight.” Mark rubs the back of his neck with a timid smile. “Just thought it would be cool to support him.”

“That’s nice of you,” you say, face softening with a small smile. “I’ll check out him too, then.”

He almost wishes you don’t.

Though Jaehyun’s got this long distance on-and-off thing with a girl he met during one of his concerts, the man is not only mad talented but also has insane looks, a combo that Mark’s seen girls fall for countless times by now.

Either way, he just smiles back with an appreciative nod. “He’s crazy good, you’ll definitely love his music.”

A call from your friends cuts the conversation short and as you glance over your shoulder, they’re waving you over with a handful of drinks.

You seem to hesitate a little, looking back at him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I probably should get back to my friends.”

Hoping he doesn’t look too disappointed, Mark shakes his head. “It’s all good, it was nice seeing you around anyway,” he starts, pausing for a second before casually reaching out for his phone. “I was thinking if I could get your number? It’s fine if you don’t—”

You gently take the phone off his hands, visibly holding back a smile as you start typing. As he catches a glimpse of the screen, Mark chuckles at the door emoji added next to your name.

Before you disappear into the crowd with your friends, you give him one last glance over your shoulder, eyes locking onto his own as your smile widens.

“I’ll see you, Mark.”

The following days, Mark spends way too much time debating himself whether to text you. As a well-kept secret in his mind, he’s also been obsessively replaying your interaction ever since that night, a little taken aback by his own sudden interest in you.

It’s not like he hasn’t ever let his eyes wander whenever you coincidentally met around the building, but up until that night you were only that—just one of his neighbors, a pretty girl he happened to run into every once in a while.

Now, curiosity is getting the best of him and Mark can’t help reading too much into the situation.

Home earlier than usual, he sits at the couch with his guitar on his lap, though now long forgotten in his reverie. As he stares at your name in the contact list, Mark reminds himself that you gave him your number after all.

So he hopes that means something, especially when finally hitting send on the message he’d backspaced one too many times.

5:11PM Hey neighbor Just found this new place with crazy good food and music in the neighborhood Any chance you’re free tonight?

5:15PM Hi Mark! I’m so sorry I’d love to but I’m stuck at uni until late today Rain check?

Though the anticipation in his chest crumbles to disappointment, Mark plays it off. You hadn’t exactly said no, so he settles to make the interaction as casual as possible, just about to type a quick reassurance when another text pops up.

5:17PM Actually If you’re free, I could use some company here I’ll buy you dinner if you save me from work for a few minutes

No more than an hour later, Mark’s walking through the campus with two brown paper bags in hand, hoping that a classic combo is a safe enough bet for you to like it. Nearing the library, he spots you waving at him by the building’s steps with a growing smile on your face.

“Hey Mark,” you greet, walking over with curious eyes at the bags in his hands. “I thought dinner was on me?”

“It seemed like you needed a break,” Mark points, giving an awkward chuckle. “It’s not fancy or anything so don’t worry about it.”

The sun’s just about to set as you walk him to a nearby bench, in a spot secluded enough that there’s only a couple of students around, mostly rushing past without a single glance.

Accepting the bag from his hands as you sit down, your eyes light up at the sight of the huge burger and fries. “Mark, I could kiss you right now,” you start, taking a single fry as you grin at him. “This is exactly what I needed.”

He chuckles, trying to mask the impact of your words despite the warmth spreading through his neck. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I hoped the basics were a safe choice.”

“This looks way better than I was planning,” you confess in between your bites. “You seriously saved me from going insane.”

“Hey, I don’t think I’ve asked what you study.” Mark frowns, trying to remember if he’s ever noticed something that could’ve hinted at it.

“I’m doing a masters in political science,” you answer, chuckling timidly as his face shifts to an impressed look. “I’m also doubling as a teaching assistant for undergrad, hence why I’m still here grading assignments and going crazy.”

“That’s amazing,” he replies, a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. “How do you like it? It sounds like hard work.”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back on the bench with a groan, momentarily forgetting about the food. “It definitely seemed easier when I was applying but I do love it. I’m also really good at it, even if my thesis runs me to the ground sometimes.”

“I bet you are.” Mark nods, voice laced with a playful touch. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but you seem like the type who’s got it all under control.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m glad you already forgot about the last time we met back home,” you say, glancing over at him with curious eyes. “What about you? What do you do, Mark?”

Suddenly feeling a flicker of self-consciousness in the back of his brain, Mark hesitates for a second. Even though his job sounds fancy to most ears, people usually recognizing him as a writer of sorts, it almost sounds comical when compared to what you do. Strangely enough, despite his genuine love for music, it’s not the first time Mark feels small over it.

As he rubs the back of his neck, the answer sounds as ordinary as possible. “It’s kinda all over the place, actually. Mostly creative stuff, I guess.”

You raise an eyebrow, visibly intrigued by the vague response. “It sounds like you’re a secret agent but can’t actually tell me the truth. Am I right?”

Mark smiles sheepishly, relieved at your easy acceptance. “To be honest, I feel like I’d be terrible at that,” he says with a grimace. “I think I’m decent at my actual job, though.”

You hum softly, seemingly still interested despite his awkwardness. “Well, you can tell me all about it later.”

As you effortlessly move the conversation by mentioning the open mic, not leaving your love for Jaehyun’s songs out, the evening soon settles upon you. There’s a whole lot Mark knows about you now—from your favorite songs to your favorite students, the places you dream traveling to, even childhood stories.

When you finally walk back to the library, it’s late enough that the campus is completely quiet. As Mark stands a few steps down from you at the same stairs again, a strange sense of comfort warms his chest.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to wait for you?” he asks for a second time, watching you with a hint of concern.

You sigh, shaking your head with an amused glance towards him. “I told you it’s fine. My friend’s already waiting for me at her place, anyway.”

Mark nods, reluctantly agreeing. “Text me so I know you’re safe?”

You smile softly, nodding back. “I promise.”

Moving closer, you lean over him from the few steps up and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering for a second too short. Mark swears that his skin is on fire, the spot tingling even after you pull back. There’s a quiet pause before you turn around, giving him a final wave before disappearing into the building.

Pleasantly surprised with how comforting and fun the last-minute meeting with Mark was, the details of the night silently stuck with you for the next few days.

Though it seemed like a simple gesture then, you’d completely turned your brain off from the stress of your routine for a few hours, instead staying immersed in your own growing intrigue about him. There was something undeniably sweet and endearing about your neighbor, leaving you craving for more time to know him better.

Admitting to yourself that maybe you do want to see Mark again, you also want to repay his gentle favor.

When you text him an impromptu dinner invite at your place, secretly anticipating his answer with nervous eyes glued to the screen, you’re most definitely not expecting a knock at your door just a few minutes later.

Despite the casual stance, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, Mark looks slightly out of breath as he stands outside your place. “Uh—hey, neighbor.”

“Do you live next door?” you joke, stepping aside to let him into your apartment. “You surprised me. I was waiting for you to reply to my text first.”

“You caught me.” Mark shrugs, slipping his shoes off with a bashful smile. “Did I come too early? I can come back later if you want.”

Leading him inside, you gesture towards your small table, already set with the ridiculous amount of pizza you accidentally ended up baking to stress relief. “You’re actually just in time. Think you can handle the consequences of my poor measuring skills?”

He bursts into a laugh, taking in the scene with wide eyes. “Wow, this is… it feels like an italian restaurant in here.”

“I feel like you’re making fun of me but I’ll let it slide because you’re a first timer around here,” you tease, pushing him towards a seat at the table. “Sit down, I’ll help you.”

Both settled in, as the food’s plated by you under Mark’s protests, the conversation naturally flows.

“So, I was thinking,” you start carefully, watching out for his reaction. “You said you’re into creative stuff, right? Does that include writing?”

Mark looks slightly surprised for a second, then opens a smile. “Kind of. I have this habit of writing down random thoughts, stuff that I see outside whenever I go out, you know?”

“Like journaling?” you ask, pausing between a few bites with your interest piqued.

“You could call it that.” He nods, thoughtfully running a hand through his hair. “Most of the time it turns to a few loose bits of stories. Like, scenes that play in my head.”

“I think I’ve figured out your job,” you say, giving him a playful side-eye at the visible tension on his face. “I’m pretty sure that you’re some best-seller ghost writer. Maybe a pen name writer or something.”

“I guess I can’t tell you then,” he teases, a contrast to his shy smile. “What about you? Aren’t you writing a thesis? That’s some serious writing if you ask me.”

Despite the excitement, you can’t help an exhausted groan at the thought of your own writing. “It seems easier than looks that’s for sure,” you reply with a nod. “Like I said, I love it and I’m actually nailing it… but I do have a breakdown over it every two weeks or something.”

Taking your answer as a cue, Mark unexpectedly tosses a few questions here and there, leaving you a little stunned at how effortlessly he seemed to ponder over your study. With him attentively hanging onto your every word, you almost catch yourself giving him a long-winded lecture about the subject.

“Let’s stop talking about this or I’ll never shut up,” you whine, noticing the food’s nearly done. “We’re talking about me too much.”

Mark chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You know I don’t mind,” he says, eyes wandering around your small place for a moment until stopping at your bookshelf. “I’m a little curious about what you’ve got there. Would you mind if I check it out?”

“Not at all,” you answer, gesturing for him to step closer for a better look. “It’s a chaotic collection, though. There’s pretty much a bit of everything in there.”

As he stands in front of your mess of a bookshelf, Mark runs his fingers through a few spines, attentively eyeing the titles. “I don’t really know a whole lot about books but I can spot some classics here.”

You nod, moving closer to stand beside him. “I haven’t read a few of these in a long time.”

Glancing over with a knowing smile, he gives you a playful nudge. “Any recommendations?”

Pausing for a second, you briefly mull over a few options before settling on a shorter one, the book's cover instantly earning a laugh out of Mark as you hand it over to him. Though as he reads the title, his gaze turns pensive and you can’t help a fond smile from growing on your lips.

“You can have this one,” you say quietly, Mark breaking out of a trance as he turns to look at you again. “Tell me what you think of it later.”

Mark offers a soft smile, tapping the cover with his fingers. “I'll trust your judgment,” he murmurs, eyes alight with a playful glint. “Maybe I should let you read some of my stuff, then.”

“Maybe I have already,” you tease, arms crossing over your chest as you stare him right back. “If you’re a writer under a pen name, you could be the author of any of these books as far as I know.”

“I’m not that secretive about my writing, I promise.” He smiles, though a bit guarded. “I just don’t really like sharing all of it.”

The conversation lingers between you for a moment, your mind completely taken by Mark’s duality. As you try to figure him out, the lines that seem to draw his persona get more and more blurry.

Though there’s something effortlessly cool and laidback about him, Mark’s still shy and a little reserved. He’s guarded, but also somehow open to talk about anything and everything. In a way, it feels like a nice balance, but you can’t help but wonder if there’s any missing pieces to him that you can’t see now.

The sudden ring of his phone stops you from taking up on the offer of reading whatever he wanted you to.

Mark keeps looking at you apologetically as a Johnny talks to him, visibly frustrated with the conversation despite the usual easygoing tone lacing his voice.

When the call wraps up, he tucks the phone into his hoodie again with a sigh. “I'm really sorry,” he starts, sounding nothing but sincere. “Apparently something happened at work and I’m the only one who can fix it.”

Rolling your eyes, you smile dismissively. “It’s fine, Mark. I hope everything’s okay, though.”

Once at your doorway, Mark hesitates for a second, gaze softening as he turns around to step closer to you. “I’ll make it up to you, alright?” He smiles, offering a firm nod. “We’ll talk later.”

With your face suddenly on fire, you dazedly return the smile, unsure of what to reply. “Alright.”

In the silence of your apartment later that night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, something had shifted between you.

The aftermath of your last encounter is anything but ideal.

With both of you caught up in your own deadlines and work-fueled late nights, even the chances of casually running into each other around the building seemed to be far-fetched over the coming days.

While you were wrapped up in a blur of revised drafts and emails from your advisor, unbeknownst to you, Mark himself was occupied with the very same matter that interrupted your shared dinner, struggling with last-minute changes for an artist’s upcoming project.

Though there was little time between you, the tenderness of Mark’s promise still lingered with you, expectation building in your heart at the thought of seeing him again.

It’s still early in the morning as you wait for the elevator at your floor, relieved that another hectic week is finally over. As you silently plan to ignore your to-do list for the weekend to catch up with the last episodes of a show you’ve been procrastinating on, the doors open to reveal Mark already inside.

Leaning against the wall with wired earphones around his neck, he instantly straightens up upon seeing you, a sheepish smile curling on his lips. “Hey, neighbor.”

Offering a smile back, you step by his side with a gentle glance. “Hi, Mark.”

As you stand there for a moment, there’s an edge of hesitation that both seem to notice, then choosing to speak at the same time.

“Sorry I haven’t—”

“I’m sorry for not—”

Both of you pause again, sharing a surprised laugh for a second before Mark motions for you to go first.

“I just want to say sorry for not keeping in touch these days,” you confess, sighing apologetically. “I think you know already, but things got crazy with my deadlines and I completely lost the timing to reach you back after dinner.”

“It’s okay.” He shakes his head, offering a warm-hearted chuckle. “I’m really sorry too, I know I promised to make it up to you but things just… kind of piled up. I kept meaning to text you, but something always came up.”

You nod in understanding, giving a meek shrug as your hands tighten around the strap of your bag. “It’s okay with me too.”

“So… what time are your classes ending these days?” Mark asks offhandedly, clearing his throat as he looks ahead. “Like, today?”

“Today?” you ask, confused despite your amusement. “Around six, I think?”

With a nod, his answer sounds so quiet that you almost miss it. “That’s good,” he mumbles, almost as if to himself before he glances at you again, smiling lightly. “Good luck with your classes today, then.”

The elevator chimes softly as it reaches the lobby, again drawing the conversation to an end before you can answer. As you step out, Mark keeps a small distance behind you, a subtle hesitation in his step once you’re both outside ready to part ways.

You exchange quick goodbyes, each turning toward your own direction.

As he’s a few steps down the street, you call out for his name, voice carrying a teasing edge. “I’ll see you later, neighbor.”

Much to your delight, you do see Mark later—at your university, no less, waiting for you outside the humanities building. Though it’s easy to spot him, the button-up and tank-top combo somehow making him stand out, you can’t hide the shock upon recognizing his familiar figure casually standing around, offering a wave as he spots you.

You quickly close the few steps towards him, a confused smile playing on your lips. “Oh my God, it’s really you. I thought I was crazy for a second.”

Mark laughs, cheeks hinting a blush despite his nonchalant nod. “I was just around the area and thought I’d swing by to check if you needed company home.”

“I do,” you say, still surprised. “I hope you didn’t wait for too long.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He smiles, glancing at you with warm eyes. “Ready to go?”

You hum softly. “Yeah.”

Still caught off-guard by his thoughtfulness, you’re most definitely not expecting Mark to quietly offer his hand out towards you. It’s a gentle, open gesture and though he does it very naturally, there’s a hint of apprehension on his face, as if he’s unsure of your reaction.

Without a word, you immediately slip your hand into his, heart thumping in your ears.

As both of you set off to the station, a strangely familiar sense of intimacy sets between you during the walk.

The subway is typically packed, chaos all around you with a mob of wide-eyed tourists and aggravated locals fighting for space, loud voices and chit-chat carrying out all the way through the tight space. At the end of a car, you squeeze into a quieter spot as Mark stands right in front of you, close enough to subtly tower over your figure.

Your eyes discreetly take in his frame, pausing at the glasses hanging on the collar of his tank-top. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in glasses yet,” you say, raising an amused eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me this is just for aesthetics, Mark.”

“I kinda wish it was, actually,” he argues, grimacing. “I mostly wear contacts, though. I keep breaking or losing all my glasses.”

Carefully pulling them out, you reach over and gently place the glasses on his face, regarding him for a second with a grin. “It looks cute, you should wear them more.”

As if he needs something to do with his hands, Mark adjusts the frames on his face, his cheeks heating up in a faint blush. “Oh—yeah, I guess. Thank you?”

The playful glint in your eyes goes unnoticed by him, grin widening at how endearing his flustered reaction is. “You’re welcome,” you say, leaning in just enough to make him look down at you again. “The blush looks cute on you, too.”

“Come on,” Mark chides, huffing a surprised, timid laugh. “Don’t do that to me.”

As your curiosity moves on to the wired earphones still wrapped around his neck, your fingers graze the cord before you take an earbud, slipping into your ear with a pointed look at him. Mark instantly takes the hint, picking the spare one before reaching over for his phone, scrolling through until a smooth beat starts playing.

Absorbed into the music, you don’t even notice Mark taking a step closer to avoid the flow of people around you, one of your hands subconsciously moving to steady him by holding onto his waist.

The songs blend into each other for a few stations as both of you focus on the playlist instead, sneaking playful glances at each other every so often.

“So you’re a bit of a rockstar, huh?” he asks after a while, smiling warmly at the confusion on your face over his sudden remark. “It’s just that you seemed to vibe with the rock stuff more than I expected.”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling back with a hint of challenge in your eyes. “Maybe I just like your taste in music.”

Mark chuckles, running a hand through the back of his neck. “Not gonna lie, that kinda makes me feel good about myself,” he says, earning a genuine laugh from you. “I’ll link you up to my playlist, then.”

“Don’t pay too much attention to me next time,” you chide, feigning a frown despite the playfulness in your eyes.

He shakes his head, voice sounding nothing but sincere as his fingers brush lightly against your cheek, raising your chin up just a tiny bit. “I’ll always pay attention to you.”

Just as his words sink in, the conductor’s cracked voice finally announces your station, leaving you silently grateful for the chance to collect yourself, your burning cheeks thankfully going unnoticed by Mark.

As he takes your hand again, you both move through the small crowd at the platform, the cool night air soon welcoming you outside over the short walk to the building. Though it feels shorter than usual, you still hang onto Mark’s stories with his friends, Johnny and Donghyuck, invested in the mischievous tidbits of their friendship shared on the way.

At the elevator, you stand beside him for a second time in the day.

Except that this time, leaving with a quick kiss to his cheek, you know exactly what Mark means to you.

Mark can’t help but read the letter a little differently now.

As an awkward mix of comfort and uncertainty grows in his heart at every word, not even the refuge of his studio feels enough to ease the tension of his thoughts.

The feeling that you’re the author of the message that he’s been obsessed with for the past couple of months comes with a weight that Mark hasn’t been quite sure how to deal with yet. The kindness laced to the letter already felt way too personal then, but now, it carries a sense of intimacy that feels directly connected to you.

It makes him feel a little silly too, realizing that you’ve entirely known him all along, nonetheless unknowingly witnessing the exact pieces that Mark held close to himself. Still, despite his ongoing conflict, he does marvel at the serendipity of the situation.

Lost in thought, Mark barely notices Johnny sidling over until the oldest takes a seat beside him at the mixing table, raising an eyebrow at the paper in his hands. “Reading the mystery letter again?”

“Sorry,” he chuckles humorlessly, avoiding his friend’s gaze. “I know I’ve been too hung up on this thing.”

“I don’t know what you’re apologizing for,” Johnny huffs, offering an odd look to his friend despite the playfulness of his words. “You got a letter from a mysterious neighbor. So what?”

Mark pauses, clicking his tongue as he finally looks up at Johnny. “Actually… it might not be that mysterious anymore, I guess.”

Johnny’s eyes widen in genuine surprise, interest suddenly piqued. “Are you telling me you found out who wrote your love letter?”

“Remember the girl you saw me talking to at Jaehyun’s open mic?” Mark asks, fingers nervously fiddling with the letter as Johnny nods. “We’ve been kinda hanging out lately and she’s… you know, also my neighbor.”

His friend blinks, visibly impressed by the unexpected twist. “Damn, Haechan is right.” Johnny snorts, a knowing grin soon taking over. “Your life is fucking ridiculous, Mark.”

“I’m not really sure it’s her, though,” he counters, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I mean, I think it could be. The way she talks to me sort of reminds me of how the letter is written. It’s just… I don’t know.”

“Then ask her,” Johnny offers, as if he’s stating the obvious. “What’s the worst that could happen? You’re already talking to each other anyway.”

“Yeah, but what if it’s just me wishful thinking?” Mark shrugs, a sigh escaping his mouth. “I don’t want to confuse her with my shit. I actually like her a lot, Johnny.”

As brotherly as ever, the oldest lets out a quiet chuckle, regarding his friend with attentive eyes. “You’re overthinking it, Mark,” Johnny chides softly. “If it’s her, great for you, but if it’s not, then it’s just a story you can tell.”

At the reassuring words, Mark turns the idea around in his head. Deep down, he knows that his hesitation says more about him than you—after all, finding out the truth means that he’s vulnerable, parts of him that even he can’t understand yet exposed. Mark also knows that you haven’t given him anything worth doubting your sincerity.

It’s actually quite the opposite, given he hasn’t felt so oddly understood and seen in a long time, despite how good he is at his job and how well he’s perceived by the people around him.

Considering Johnny’s input in the brief moment, Mark eventually nods. “I’ll think about it, promise.”

“If she got to know you as well as we do, I know she likes you just as much,” Johnny finishes, giving an encouraging pat to his shoulder. “Just make sure to get out of your head a little, alright?”

Taking one last look at the letter before tucking it away, nerves pleasantly buzzing in his chest, Mark decidedly acquiesces.

What’s the worst that could happen anyway?

The music starts almost shyly at first, chords soon carrying through the walls softly and unassuming.

You pause mid-motion, fingers hovering over the keyboard of your laptop as your brain instantly loses the next few lines of your assignment. It finally dawns on you that your mysterious neighbor has returned—at the same time as you realize that you hadn’t noticed their absence at all, for a while now.

As always, you can’t help but love the unknown melody though it strangely stirs something bittersweet in your heart, somewhat apologetic over not feeling their disappearance enough.

It makes you think of the letter.

Did your neighbor read it? What did they think of it? Did it mean anything to them?

It’s a given that your thoughts also wander to Mark, the significance of your growing relationship definitely not lost as you slowly recognize how his presence has filled so much of your mind lately, so much of your days.

It almost feels like the song’s tenderness is engraved onto your brain once it fades away, over as suddenly as it started. As the weight of the silence settles in, you feel stupidly torn between the comfort you’d found and the one you’d forgotten.

Mark 7:23PM Hey rockstar I’m home Kinda want to hear your thoughts on this Care to have a listen?

It’s an unusually quiet Saturday evening for you.

At the buzz of your phone, Mark’s name lighting up the screen for a brief second, you take a pause from your book. Though seeing his name doesn’t surprise you, given you’ve been texting back and forth all day, your curiosity immediately takes over as you read through the cryptic messages followed by a download link.

7:24PM You’re home? I hope you aren’t scamming me 😛

Since Mark had to suddenly cancel the plans you’d made earlier in the week due to work, you’re eager to see him, especially now as the university’s break nears by a couple of days. Before you can text him to come over though, another message comes through.

Mark 7:25PM Please listen to it baby

As your heart leaps at the reply, you’re quick to follow his request.

Then, Mark’s suddenly singing to you.

The guitar chords are unmistakable to your ears. It’s the very same melody played by your mysterious neighbor a few nights ago, except the sound’s definitely richer now, crystal clear with no walls in the way to hold back its softness. His voice feels incredibly tender, warm and light like a hug, almost as if he’s poured his soul into it.

A shiver runs through your body as realization finally hits you—all this time, Mark has been your mysterious neighbor, the very one you’d sent a secret letter to, your unknown comfort presence.

You’re not even properly thinking when rushing upstairs, urgently knocking on the door of the apartment right above yours.

As it swings open, one look at him is enough for you to throw your arms around Mark’s neck, catching him by surprise by pressing your lips against his. It takes a second for him to react, his own arms soon wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. As he blindly steps back inside, Mark kicks the door closed before deepening the kiss, both hands at the back of your head.

You’re not sure how long it lasts but when you pull away, both of you light-headed and breathless, it still doesn’t feel long enough.

With flushed cheeks, Mark sighs in a mix of wonder and disbelief. “Wow, this is… wow,” he manages, chest still heaving. “What’s going on?”

The dazed look on his face earns a laugh from you, especially as it pairs with his messy hair and disheveled clothes. Completely endeared by his reaction, you lean closer again, brushing a quick, feather-light kiss against Mark’s lips before he can even react.

“You’re my mysterious neighbor,” you start, voice soft with admiration as your hands cup his cheeks. “You’re the one who’s been playing music all this time.”

He gives you a small smile, subtly leaning into your hold. “You’re the one who wrote the letter.”

“This is crazy, Mark,” you say, huffing at the absurdity of the situation in both disbelief and amazement. “I can’t believe you’re the person I’ve been obsessed with since I moved in.”

His brows raise slightly, a teasing glint replacing the warmth in his eyes. “You’ve been obsessed with me?”

“You have no idea how much I loved listening to you.” You smile unabashedly, fingertips gently brushing at his cheeks. “I was always so happy whenever I came home and you’d just start playing out of nowhere. It felt like you knew exactly when I needed your music, you know.”

As his face softens, Mark watches you for a second. “Did you really mean it?” he asks, voice quieter. “The letter you sent me… did you mean all of that?”

Meeting his gaze, you nod without hesitation. “I wouldn’t have written it if I didn’t.”

As he wraps his arms around you in the warmest, heartfelt hug, Mark pulls back just enough so his lips are meeting yours again, the slow kiss melting your body against his own.

Though pulling yourself away from Mark feels like a challenge, as you breathlessly step back from his hold, your eyes are immediately taking in every detail around.

Sometimes, you’d foolishly envision your mysterious neighbor’s apartment, wondering how different it could be from your own. So it feels surreal standing there now and realizing that everything feels very, very Mark. It’s almost like the place pieces together parts of him that you hadn’t quite figured out yet.

An entire wall of vinyls and CDs, a few collectible toys here and there on the shelves, instruments all around his living room—all of it explains so much about him.

Walking over to check his collection much like he did with your books, you shoot him a curious glance. “So you’re a musician?”

“You could say that.” Mark frowns, pausing for a second before he sighs. “I mean, I work with music but I’m actually just a songwriter for a record label.”

Your eyes light up, a gasp escaping from your lips. “So I was right when I said you were a writer,” you reply, satisfaction taking over your face. “Did you write the song you sent me?”

He nods, feeling surprisingly at ease despite having spent half of the day restless over the recording. “Yeah, it was me,” Mark answers, chuckling at your enthusiasm. “You didn’t tell me what you’d think of it yet.”

“Are you kidding? The fact you’re my mysterious neighbor wasn’t the only thing that made me attack you just now,” you joke as he bursts into a laugh. “I do wonder who it was about, though.”

Mark raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching in amusement. “You think I’m going to tell you that easily?”

With a knowing grin, you silently turn back to scanning the rows of albums in his shelves again. As he steps behind you, Mark specifically reaches out for a CD, your eyes curiously scanning the cover.

“It’s only fair giving you a recommendation too, right?” he muses, smiling gently. “A rock classic for a rockstar seems fitting enough.”

The subtle implication laced to his words make your smile widen, album still in your hands as you glance at him over your shoulder. “Would you sing it for me if I asked?”

Mark hesitates, though seemingly more out of confusion than anything else. “Like… right now?”

As you turn around to face him, there’s a hint of reassurance on your face. “You don’t really have to, but I’d love to hear it with no walls between us this time.”

There’s a touch of confidence to the way Mark leads you to his couch, a hand on the small of your back until he settles beside you with a guitar on his lap. It’s probably the prettiest you’ve ever seen him, dark hair sitting above his eyes and glasses perched on his nose, the little moles on his face calling you for a kiss.

The silence between you is soon filled by the guitar, Mark strumming the familiar melody with an ease that you can’t help amaze at. The softness of his voice embraces you again, anticipation growing with every word between your shared glances.

With the last chord drawing the song to a close, you’re the one pulling the guitar away before leaning over, kissing Mark again as he welcomes you closer.

“So, you and me,” he starts, nose brushing against yours as you hum, smiling against his mouth. “Are we really doing this? For real now?”

Your heart has never felt so full and assured, no hesitation to your answer.

“We’re doing this.”

The crowd’s applause slowly settles as Mark leaves the stage.

There’s a mix of adrenaline and contentment simmering in his chest, heart still racing as he clutches his guitar closer, taking one last look at the familiar atmosphere—for the first time, not as a mere spectator, but as a performer.

As your voice breaks through his high, Mark turns around just in time to put the guitar away before you leap into his arms, kissing him so deeply as if you haven’t seen him for weeks.

A wide smile takes over your face once pulling away, excitement practically spilling over from your eyes. “Oh my God, you were so good!”

He grins, instinctively reaching for your waist to hold you close. “You think so?”

“I know so,” you gush, expression softening for a second. “I’m so proud of you, baby. It was really incredible, you killed it.”

“I don’t think I could’ve done it without you,” he confesses gently, a contrast to his firm gaze. “If you hadn’t insisted so much… I think I’d still be stuck in my head about it, you know.”

“You were the one up there performing, not me,” you argue, leaning closer to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “It was all you, your music and your talent.”

Mark shakes his head, a chuckle escaping from his mouth as he closes his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm embrace. “You’re crazy,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you for not letting me give up on this.”

As you pull back from his hold to meet his eyes, a playful smile curls on your lips. “I take my thanks in the form of take-out.”

He just laughs, nodding softly. “Let’s go home, then.”

Just like that, under a galaxy of stars in the sky and the warmth of a summer evening, Mark lets you guide him back home.

EXTRA: LOVERS ROCK

MASTERLIST

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct fanfic #mark lee fanfic #neocitylights

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