#not sure how to tag this. so i simply will not

[gimmethatagustd]

nectar | pjm

Humans have this annoying habit of being drawn to danger, and you’re having a hard time stopping yourself from sinking your teeth into your new roommate. You’re not sure what’s more tantalizing: his impossibly good looks or his seemingly innocent way of flirting with the darkest part of you.

Relationship: Human Jimin x Vampire Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Vampires, College/University, Roommates to lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Alcohol, Blood Drinking, Choking, Degradation Kink, Masturbation, Jimin Has a Pain Kink, Scratching, Slapping, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vampire Sex, Vampire Bites

Word Count: 16,125

A/N: Pls enjoy what I think was my first vampire fic I ever wrote?? idk I can't remember shit

Soundtrack: Nectar - WayV

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Ambrogio University had the bright idea to open its doors to humans. Having been a private university for vampires for five centuries, the controversial decision to end the admissions practice of denying humans was the university president’s final declaration before retiring. She had been known for operating from a far more inclusive mindset compared to previous presidents. But despite her charitable mindset, most current students, alumni, and staff were up in arms about the whole thing. Even a few trustees were ready to pull out of supporting the university (and many of them actually did). Not only was there a social shift on campus, but there was a sudden concern about the financial impact of opening the university’s doors to humans. 

Still, the efforts were underway with full force. A flood of humans were applying as first years, and even more were transferring from human-only universities. 

Which was how you ended up with a new human transfer student, Park Jimin, standing at the front door of your dorm with a backpack slung over his shoulder, a large cardboard box in his arms, and a suitcase at his feet. You’re sure he’d given you a proper greeting, but all you could focus on was his prominent Adam’s apple and his muscular neck. 

This shit was stupid. 

The university was running out of human-only dorms, the administration said. They had nowhere to put the influx of new students - aside from filling up vacant rooms. And it just so happened that you had a vacant room. Your old roommate’s parents pulled her out of the university once they learned that humans would be allowed in. You’d barely been in class for a week and she was gone. 

Although you had nothing against humans, you’d put up a fight before eventually giving in to having one live with you. It sounded like such a bad idea to bring non-vampires into what was supposed to be a safe haven. Were they just going to ignore the centuries of violence humans had inflicted on vampires? Or the controversial but true reality that some vampires simply had very little self control around other species? What was the university going to do if some human student got found sucked dry in the library? Vampires were still living on the outskirts of human society; any tragedy at the university would only push everyone’s efforts back decades. Maybe even centuries. 

None of your protests mattered, and the administration ultimately swayed you with the promise that they’d heavily discount your housing fees if you roomed with a human. 

You had to sign a rather lengthy contract before being paired with the human. No harassment or discriminatory behavior against the human. No biting the human. No drinking the human’s blood, regardless of source or method. No hypnotizing or using any other form of supernatural powers against the human. No turning the human into a vampire. The list of rules went on and on. You presumed the humans had their own version of the contract to sign, but you had yet to ask anyone about it. And because you were a born vampire rather than a turned vampire, you had to undergo a short training to learn the basic functions of a human, though most of the training was merely a reiteration of the contract rules and didn’t really provide any useful information. 

What seemed like the most important thing to remember was that humans were fragile, unbelievably so. And they were stupid, so they didn’t understand just how fragile they really were. 

Your new roommate looked like he was probably the stupid kind of human. You watched him with your arms crossed against your chest, your dark maroon hawk eyes cataloging his features as he stood in the doorway. He was pretty, much prettier than the humans you’d ever interacted with, which admittedly wasn’t many. Aside from the allure of his neck, he had suggestively plump lips and sharp eyes that were overpowered by his puffy cheeks when he smiled. Despite his lean, muscular body, there was a softness to him that only added to your belief that he was stupid. Softness in humans was dangerous, and this kid clearly didn’t realize how vulnerable he was. 

“Hi, I’m Jimin,” he said, raising his shoulders in a greeting since his hands were too full to wave. There were the puffy cheeks coming out. You hated how cute he was. 

“You smell like sweat,” you replied, dropping your arms to your side. There were a few other things the training had insisted you do with your new human. One of which was to attempt to make yourself as humanlike as possible, as to make your human more comfortable in his new environment. Which was, again, stupid, but you supposed it wouldn’t kill you to force yourself to walk at a humanlike speed and not drink bottled blood while you lounged in the living room where he could see.

By the way the human’s eyes grew wide you figured your comment probably wasn’t a very human thing to say. 

Oh well. 

“I’ve been carrying heavy things and it’s really hot outside…” the human mumbled, but you were already heading down the hallway. He quickly followed you, awkwardly dragging his suitcase behind him as he went. 

“Unfortunately, we have to share a bathroom, but there should be enough room for you to put your stuff in the cabinets.” You gestured toward the bathroom door and continued down the hall, briefly stopping at a closed door. “That’s my room. Don’t go in there.” 

You tossed a look over your shoulder to narrow your eyes at Jimin. He audibly gulped and nodded his head. 

“Good. And this is your bedroom.” You stopped in front of the door, standing to the side so Jimin could enter. You watched him take in his surroundings, trying not to stare too much at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed every time he swallowed. He brushed his blonde bangs away from his forehead and you could see the sweat that had accumulated from the late-summer humidity outside. 

“Do you need water?” you asked tentatively, eyes narrowed as you waited for his response. When humans sweat, they need water, right?  

“Oh yes, please!” Jimin sat his luggage down and followed you like a little puppy back to the front of your dorm where the living room and kitchen were. 

“I don’t really have a lot of dishes,” you admitted, handing him a glass. “I don’t need them, so…” You weren’t sure if it was against best practices to talk about your diet with your human, but it was bound to come up eventually. 

If Jimin was put off, he didn’t give any reaction. He simply guzzled down his water and leaned against the kitchen counter, watching you expectantly. It was annoying. 

“They told me they built a dining hall for… humans.” The word fell from Jimin’s lips awkwardly, as if he’d never said the word human before. “Do you think the food is good or should I probably just make my own food? The college I transferred from had really shitty food.” 

You stood there for a moment, staring at him blankly. He was joking, right? 

“I’ve never had it, so I don’t know.” 

His eyes grew wide for a moment, but he quickly let them fall back to normal again and simply nodded his head. 

“Right.” 

The two of you stared at each other for much longer than you were comfortable with. Jimin leaned against the kitchen counter and shamelessly watched you, never looking away when you caught his gaze. 

“You never told me your name,” he said with a small smile, as though he thought you were being forgetful and cute. 

“They didn’t tell you who you were rooming with?” 

The human shook his head.

“I’m Y/N.” It seemed pretty dumb of him to agree to live with someone you didn’t have any information on, but you reminded yourself that you’d done the same thing… 

“How old are you?” 

Your eyebrows shot up at his sudden question and you blinked a few times in surprise. “What, do you think I’m from the 1800s or some shit? Some ancient freak?” 

“No! I just, I was just wondering,” he stuttered, lips sticking out in a nervous pout. You could hear his heartbeat increase slightly. 

“I’m twenty-two. Shocking, huh?” You took a step towards Jimin and his heart picked up again. With narrowed eyes, you leaned into his personal space, close enough to see your own reflection in his eyes. How funny. 

“You humans watch Twilight and suddenly think you’re experts.” As you spoke you watched Jimin’s eyes land on your mouth, likely noticing your elongated canines for the first time. “Don’t believe everything you see on TV, kid. It might get you into trouble.” 

You took a step back and allowed Jimin some space to breathe because you noticed he’d stopped at some point in your little interrogation. Definitely didn’t want your human passing out on his first day. You were sure the university administration would hate that. 

“Gimme your phone.” 

“What?” Jimin eyed you curiously. 

“Gimme your phone.” You held out your hand impatiently. “Roommates need to have each other’s numbers. Didn’t you have a roommate at your old college?” 

“Yeah, but he…” 

You didn’t need Jimin to finish his sentence. You knew what he was going to say. But he wasn’t a vampire. 

With a huff you snatched his phone out of his hand, quickly inputting your number before handing it back. “Don’t call me unless it’s an emergency. I hate talking on the phone.” 

Jimin nodded quickly, hopefully learning that he would be better off keeping his mouth shut. 

“Good. I gotta go to class, but uh, make yourself at home.” 

You were going to regret this. 

🩸

As it turned out, surprisingly, Jimin was a pretty chill roommate. After everything you’d heard about humans growing up, you’d thought he would require a lot more work. Thankfully, he was rather self-sufficient. He spent most of his time in the library, not that you knew that; all you were going off of was what he’d told you. And when he was at your dorm, he didn’t require much out of you. The main thing that you could really live without was his incessant questions. 

“Do you care if I use garlic? Garlic powder?” 

You lifted your head from where you laid sprawled out on the living room couch, pillow tucked under your arm and a Nat Geo special about King Tut on the TV. You could see Jimin standing in front of the refrigerator with the door open. 

“Excuse me?” 

Jimin turned to look at you, a soft pout forming on his face that could only be explained by his desire to be accommodating for you, despite having no idea what he was fucking talking about. 

“Well, is it true that vampires don’t like garlic?” He brushed his bangs out of the way and looked into your eyes from across the room. Unlike the other humans scurrying around the university, intimidated by their vampire peers, Jimin met your gaze with no hesitation or timidness. It was odd. 

“No. That’s a myth,” you said with a sigh, plopping down on your pillow. Jimin had thrown these types of stereotypical questions your way at least three times a day. Initially it had pissed you off, but he was slowly starting to wear you down. It was hard to get mad when he looked at you with such soft eyes, lips slightly parted, a look of earnestness on his face as though you were going to give him forbidden knowledge.  

If anything, the worst part was him simply existing. You’d never spent so much time with a human in such close proximity before. You’d assumed after the first few days you’d get used to the sound of his heart, the smell of his skin, the way you could see his pulse in his neck when he was hunched over his textbooks at the kitchen table. 

Yet here you were, weeks later, subconsciously licking your lips as you watched him watch you. 

Jimin let out a small hmm and turned back to the grocery list he was making. Assuming the conversation was over, you turned back to your show and settled deeper into the blanket you had wrapped around you. 

“Is it true that vampire bites feel good?” 

Jimin migrated to the living room and dared to sit down on the other end of the couch you were lying on. The close proximity genuinely startled you, although you refused to let it show. You’d never been so close to him, and for good reason. Everything about his smell and the pumping of his veins inside his body was enhanced the closer he got to you. You could feel your own breathing hitch, and you quickly sat up.  

“Who told you that?” you asked him slowly, tongue heavy in your mouth. 

Jimin shrugged, leaning his head back slightly to run his fingers through his blonde locks. The action exposed his neck slightly, making his Adam’s apple more prominent. “I’ve just heard people say that.” 

You stared at him for a long time, unsure of how you should approach the question. The training your university had provided hadn’t addressed anything like this. 

“It can… depending on the situation.” 

“Like what?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why do you want to know this shit all of a sudden?” 

“It’s not all of a sudden.” Jimin gave you a smile that reached his eyes. He brought up his legs to cross them on the couch. “I’m just curious. I’ve never had a vampire friend before.” 

Friend. He thought you were friends. Cute. Unrealistic, but cute.

“Getting bitten hurts like hell, obviously. It’s pointy bones stabbing into your flesh,” you said with an exasperated sigh. You drew your knees against your chest and wrapped your arms around them. “But the… venom in our… fangs… makes the experience feel pleasurable after the initial pain. I think scientists say it’s like being high or something.” 

You didn’t like the panicky feeling in your chest as you shared what felt like deep, dark secrets with an outsider. The thing was that a simple Google search could tell him everything he wanted to know.

You could practically see the gears turning in Jimin’s head as he reflected on what you’d explained. It made the anxiety in you heighten, and you felt the need to add a disclaimer to your words, “But some vampires are really sadistic. They like to make it hurt.” 

Why you thought you needed to protect him was beyond you. Maybe because you thought he was dumb. And you didn’t like the way your peers eyed him in the halls like he was something to eat. 

“Some humans don’t mind a little pain.” 

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. What the fuck? Was Jimin alluding to something or was he merely playing devil’s advocate? 

He bit his bottom lip and you saw his eyes roam your face, which you quickly tried to make neutral and expressionless. It was too late, though. The tiniest of smirks lifted up the corner of Jimin’s mouth. 

“Well, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been bitten by another vampire,” you said with a glare, but you were lying through your teeth. Your last ex-boyfriend had been… weird, to say the least. Not that Jimin needed to know that. 

You quickly stood up, gathering your blanket and phone. “End of discussion. Some things are better not knowing,” you said with a sharp look at Jimin, but his smirk had disappeared. In its place was a soft pout and his puppy eyes gazed up at you with a look of innocence your mind could hardly comprehend. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said gently, standing up. He reached out to run his fingers along your forearm. “I like talking to you. You make me feel less different.” 

His hand was warm against your deathly cold skin and if you still had a working heart you knew it would be hammering to get out of your chest. A human had never touched you before. 

“Uh… I’m happy I could be of service,” you spoke barely above a whisper, looking away from Jimin’s gaze. Now you were the one sounding stupid. 

“I’m going to the store, but if you need anything, let me know!” And with that Jimin headed back to the kitchen to retrieve his grocery list and jacket. Even after the front door was shut and locked, you couldn’t look away from where Jimin had been. What the fuck had just happened? 

🩸

“Sooooooo, are you really gonna make me ask?” 

You let out a long sigh and leaned back into your friend’s couch. Although you knew she hated when you did it, you propped your feet on the coffee table in front of you, ankles crossed. At least you weren’t wearing shoes, right? 

“I have nothing to report.” 

“Y/N, shut the fuck up and tell me how things are going. It’s been weeks and you still haven’t told me anything.” 

“Well, Nikki, if I shut the fuck up, then I won’t be able to tell you anything, will I?”

Nikki gave a loud huff and pretended like she was going to throw her beer bottle at you. Being doused in blood-based beer wasn’t pleasant, and you knew from experience. One too many vampire-only music festivals over the summer and it’d do it to you. 

You brought your own bottle to your lips, grimacing as you swallowed. You couldn’t understand why you drank this shit. 

“It’s been weird, that’s how it’s been. He won’t stop following me around, asking me stupid questions.” 

“You might be being too hard on him. Ever thought about that?” Nikki cocked her head to the side and gave you a scolding look. “He’s new! To a new school and a totally different environment than he’s used to. Maybe he has never even met a vampire before.” 

“Oh, trust me, he hasn’t. I can just tell.” Your nose scrunched up at your recollection of a few choice questions he’d thrown at you in the few weeks you’d known him. 

“How?”

“Well, let’s see. He asked me how old I was the first day. Yesterday he asked me if it hurt when I got turned, and then when I explained that I was born, he barely disguised his look of disgust.”

“Are you sure it was disgust? Maybe it was just shock? Most humans don’t know vampires can have children.” 

You narrowed your eyes at Nikki. “You asked me to tell you what’s been going on and I’m telling you.”

“Okay, okay.” Nikki raised her hands up in surrender and nestled into the armchair she was sitting in, beer clasped between her slender hands. 

There were a lot of reasons why Nikki was your best friend, but one major reason was because the two of you were the only born vampires in your friend group. The rest had been turned at various stages of their lives, but you and Nikki had been born with the curse, only becoming immortal once you turned twenty and had your first taste of human blood. If humans thought getting a period for the first time was a major life milestone, a born vampire’s first meal was akin to a spiritual awakening. You and Nikki had attended each other’s ceremonies, and you were sworn with blood magic to never speak of it to anyone but the people who were there. 

Shit like that bonded people a lot more than explaining how to put in a tampon. 

“I guess it could be worse. He’s nice, at least. And he listens to me when I tell him what to do.” 

Nikki snorted. “Of course. Obedience. Your favorite quality in a man.”

“And so few have it in them,” you matched your friend’s snort. “Y’know, maybe I should keep this little human around. He could be useful.” 

“Oh, for what, pray tell?” 

“Pray tell? You need to stop hanging out with Jin’s 400-year-old ass. He’s got you talking like a weirdo.” 

“Leave me alone! You’re the one wanting a henchman to do your evil bidding.” 

“Do you think I could convince him to do my homework?”

Nikki rolled her eyes and tilted her head to knock back the rest of her beer. That would mark bottle number four, at least. She was in her “off” part of her on-and-off relationship, which meant lots of shitty beer and gossiping and crying and doing other emotional things you weren’t a fan of. 

“I think that sounds very high school, but maybe? If he’s smart.” 

You gave Nikki a nod, but let the conversation fall flat. Your roommate wasn’t smart at all, at least not when it came to street smarts. He definitely seemed like an academic genius, though. He’d gotten a massive scholarship and he was studying to become a doctor of some sort… not your thing as a History major. There was one night you’d gotten home rather late, and you’d found him asleep in the living room, the coffee table stacked with large textbooks and notes with science-y things you didn’t understand. How was he not even a month into school and already up to his ears in work? 

You also weren’t ready to admit how you’d gotten used to having his little pouty face around. It was the way he sung to himself as he cooked, using the spatula as a microphone and gliding his feet along the tile in a cute little dance. Or how you’d woken up to him tucking you in with your favorite blanket when you’d fallen asleep on the couch, never scared to approach you despite the horrible things you’d heard humans say about vampires. 

“When are you going to introduce us?” Nikki’s absurd question pulled you from your thoughts. 

“Excuse me? Why would you need to meet him?” 

Nikki leaned towards you from her seat, her dark eyes shining red in the dim lighting of her living room. “Am I just never going to go to your dorm ever again? Obviously I have to meet him at some point!” 

You frowned and Nikki let out a laugh of victory, knowing that you had no comeback to fight her sound logic. 

“What does he look like? Show me a pic.” She made grabby hands at your phone, which you held tightly against your chest. 

“I don’t have any pictures of him, what the fuck.” 

Nikki eyed you for the hopeless case that you were and settled for pulling out her own phone. “Park… Jimin…” she muttered to herself as she typed. You saw her long index finger swipe up the phone and you fought your urge to get up to see what she was doing. 

“Is this him?” Nikki held her phone out to you, revealing an Instagram account. She’d brought up the most recent photo posted. 

“Uhhh… yeah. He must have just dyed his hair ‘cause he definitely didn’t look like that this morning.” 

“Ooh, he’s cute, Y/N. You failed to mention that in all your complaining,” Nikki giggled, bringing her phone back to her face to continue scrolling. “An account called oppa_pics liked this? He got over a thousand likes in two hours? And holy fuck, his neck… Y/N, his neck is… gorgeous. Like, he literally put it on display.” 

“Let me see,” you reached for Nikki’s phone, but she swatted at your hand. 

“Use your own phone. I’m looking to see if he has any thirst traps.” 

You didn’t want to use your phone because then that would mean that you went out of your way to learn more about the man living with you. No matter how thick his neck was and how soft his lips looked, you wanted to avoid crossing the line into friendship. It would be easier to ignore your growing interest in him if you blocked him out of your mind. 

“I wonder who Imani Harris is… maybe his girlfriend? She comments on, like, all his photos,” Nikki spoke mostly to herself as she scrolled through the rest of Jimin’s Instagram. You opted to scroll through TikTok instead, trying to fight your sudden curiosity in whatever girl was thirsting after your roommate on his socials.  

A sudden squeal from Nikki had you covering your sensitive ears. “What the fuck, Nik?” 

“Y/N, he has so many shirtless pics if you scroll down to last summer. Look at his abs. Look at them.” Nikki was back to shoving her phone in your face. 

It was hard to deny the fact that your new roommate was hiding a killer body beneath his loose-fitting hoodies and joggers. If the hills and valleys of his abdomen weren’t enough, he had a tattoo across his ribs as well. 

“I thought humans weren’t supposed to look like that…” Nikki bit her thumb, her fangs gleaming. “He’s so fit… God, his neck, Y/N. Does he really look like that in real life? How the fuck are you living with that?” 

“Don’t you think it’s kinda stupid? He goes to a vampire university, Nikki. And he’s showing himself off like a fucking snack. Literally.” You pressed your lips tight against each other and gave Nikki a hard look. She slowly released her thumb and tucked her phone away, giving you a weak smile. 

“Sorry. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen a human I’ve wanted to both fuck and murder so strongly.” 

“Wow, not the “M” word,” you groaned with a roll of your eyes. “This is exactly why they shouldn’t have even let humans in here in the first place. And why I didn’t want you to meet him.” 

“I’m not going to do anything to him!” Nikki protested. “I mean, nothing he wouldn’t want me to do…” The mischievous grin flashed for a moment, but it died on her lips when she watched you swing your feet off the coffee table and stand up. 

You grabbed your half-empty beer bottle to pour out and toss in the trash. “I gotta go. I’m exhausted.” 

“Okay… If you need anything, let me know? All jokes aside, I know this is a hard transition for you.” Nikki stood to wrap her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a firm but caring embrace. 

“Don’t worry about me, Nik. You know I’m chill.” You flashed her a peace sign and slipped through her front door. The moon was full and centered in the sky as you walked home, casting an eerie light that wavered in the humid air. You were, in fact, chill. But this human might possibly be what made you snap. 

And you were going to snap a lot sooner than you’d initially thought. 

You swung the front door to your dorm open, kicked off your sneakers, and rounded the corner to the living room. Despite only having a beer and a half compared to Nikki’s four, you’d been drinking on an empty stomach and the alcohol really hit you harder than expected. So at first you thought you were going crazy when you heard not one, but two pounding heartbeats echoing through the apartment in a symphony of chaos. 

That is, until you laid your eyes on your living room couch. 

You’d certainly have enough to report back to Nikki, now. Jimin was sitting on the couch, shirtless and wearing a pair of joggers. He had his head leaned against the back of the couch to expose the smooth, milky skin of his neck. 

You swallowed thickly, mouth hanging open slightly as your hungry eyes followed the length of his neck to find a pair of lips sucking one of many hickeys on his throat. 

The girl straddling Jimin’s lap was someone you’d never seen before, which wasn’t surprising since she was human. Both straps of her sundress were pushed down her shoulders and the hem of the dress was hiked up her thighs. Jimin’s hands were hidden beneath the girl’s dress, but you could tell that he was gripping her ass to guide her as she started grinding into his crotch. 

You watched Jimin’s plump lips part and you heard the softest of whines come from his mouth. You couldn’t breathe. Not that you even needed to, but it was uncomfortable nonetheless. 

So, maybe it was your fault because you didn’t have the talk with Jimin yet, but you’d also assumed he wouldn’t be bringing anyone over to your dorm after being at school for less than a month. Not with that baby face. Who was wanting to fuck Park Jimin? Puffy cheeks and pouty lips? Maybe if they liked looking at bambi eyes during sex, you scoffed to yourself. 

The girl pulled away from Jimin’s neck, likely to kiss him instead, and that was enough to break the spell you’d fallen under. Now you were bubbling hot with frustration at your new little roommate getting his freak on in the fucking living room when he had a whole ass bedroom he could’ve locked himself in. 

“Having fun?” You snickered, arms crossed against your chest. You enjoyed the way the girl’s eyes grew wide as she looked up at you, scrambling to fix her dress. You gave her a sickeningly sweet smile as she fumbled with a pathetic attempt at an apology. You were finding that there was nothing more entertaining than watching the fear spike through humans’ eyes when their gaze landed on your fangs. 

You ignored Jimin, not interested in dealing with him quite yet. 

“I’m, I’m, I’m so sorry,” the girl stuttered, avoiding your gaze as she reached for her shoes. 

“I, I, I don’t care,” you mocked her, the smile still maintained. “Get out of my dorm. And if you’re gonna let him rail you in the future, do it in your own fucking house or at least in his bedroom, aight? Not on my couch where I fucking watch Disney+.” 

Your straightforwardness clearly shocked the girl because she rushed past you immediately without so much as a glance in Jimin’s direction. You didn’t give a fuck if she was some random hookup or his girlfriend, as Nikki had suggested Jimin might have one. You were tired and grumpy and fed up with talking about Jimin all day long. 

Once you heard the front door slam shut, you turned your attention to your little human who still sat with his legs spread on the couch, torso still exposed. 

You did your best to ignore the bright red spots on his neck where the blood vessels had been ruptured. Hickeys were like the X on a treasure map. Little splotches calling out to you, a reminder of just how easy it would be to sink your teeth- 

“Y/N.” Jimin gazed up at you with hooded eyes, his lips pink and even more swollen from kissing. His typically sweet voice dropped an octave or two, and the unfamiliar gruffness with which he spoke your name shot heat straight to your thighs. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.” 

A loud snort was the response you gave him as you attempted to calm yourself down. Where was the timid, baby-faced roommate of yours? Who followed you around like a bumbling idiot, both terrified of you and clinging to your every word? The man you saw before you was more of a stranger than regular Jimin, with an air of cockiness that radiated from his body in heatwaves. And if you thought his hickeys and fuck-me eyes were too much to deal with, you were in for an even bigger surprise when your eyes fell to catch sight of the outline of his erection in his pants. 

Fucking hell. 

You turned quickly, marching straight for your bedroom. It didn’t matter that you were still hungry, and all your bottled blood was in the kitchen. There was no fucking way you were going to walk past your roommate a second time. 

“Y/N, wait,” Jimin called after you hoarsely. 

You heard him start to follow you, but you reached your bedroom first. You closed the door quickly and locked it behind you. With your back against the door, you slowly slid down until you were sitting on the floor, a hand slapped over your mouth as you struggled to stop yourself from panting. Your mind was reeling with the sound of Jimin’s heart pounding in his chest. You listened to him walk away from your room, heard his own bedroom door open and shut. You focused on inhaling through your mouth and exhaling through your nose as silently as you could to regulate your breathing. 

Why was Jimin’s heart beating even faster? He was in his own room now; you’d hoped the distance between the two of you and the entire situation would help him calm down. Yet somehow it was getting worse. 

This is exactly why living with humans was a bad fucking idea. 

Frantically looking around the room, your eyes locked on your headphones. You stood to grab them off your desk when another sound mixed with Jimin’s heartbeat stopped you in your tracks. 

“Fuck…” 

You heard a soft moan, followed by a wet squelching sound that repeated in a slow but steady rhythm. He was fucking masturbating, and your hypersensitive hearing was forcing you to indulge in every little detail. On top of that, you could hear his breathing pick up, heavy sighs that flowed from his mouth to the back and forth rhythm you knew his hand was making along his cock. 

Which, based on what you’d seen, was massive. 

For a moment you stood there, eyes fluttering closed as you listened to the symphony of filth coming from Jimin’s bedroom. It was impossible for your body and mind to know what to latch onto: the way you could practically feel his blood coursing through his veins or the sound of him messily pumping away at himself. Or maybe the fight was between the hollow feeling in your stomach from not eating since lunch and the heat that was climbing up your neck and down your thighs the longer you stood there.

Shaking your head furiously, you rushed to put the headphones in your ears and choose literally any song on your phone that was loud enough to drown out what you were experiencing. With your headphones secured, you laid down in your bed with your eyes shut, putting all your mental energy into the loud song you had on repeat, thankful that you could no longer hear Jimin.

🩸

You liked to think that you were a responsible person. Although you weren’t always a rule-follower, you knew when to take shit seriously and had little patience for stupidity. Which was why when you finally opened your eyes the next morning, you felt a spike of fear stab into the middle of your chest. 

You shot out of bed, chest heaving and shuddering with every gasp of air, head swiveling around the room like it was barely screwed onto your neck. The headphones you’d worn throughout the night were tossed onto the floor beside your bed, along with your t-shirt and shorts. You vaguely remembered peeling off your clothes in the middle of the night after sweating so profusely they’d become uncomfortable plastered onto your skin. 

There was that sound again… the sound you’d almost gotten used to before Jimin had fucked it all up again. Jimin’s heartbeat, pitter pattering away in the kitchen as though it wasn’t the bane of your existence. You ground your teeth together, one fang nicking your bottom lip hard enough to draw a tiny bit of blood, and tried to pull yourself together. 

Jimin sat at the kitchen table with one knee pulled up against his chest in his chair, munching on pancakes he’d made for himself. Saliva gathered along your tongue, and it wasn’t because of the heavenly smell of warm butter and maple syrup. 

“Good morning!” Jimin’s smile was pushing his cheeks into his eyes, but his cheerfulness quickly disappeared as he met the gaze of your bright red eyes. You couldn’t look into a mirror to see yourself even if you wanted to, but it didn’t take a mirror to know that you looked fucking deranged. Bedhead a mess, eyeliner from the day before smeared, a deep grimace etched into your face. This was the first time Jimin was seeing you with hungry eyes unnaturally red, pupils dark pinpoints in the middle of your irises. It wasn’t a pretty sight, that was for sure. And it wasn’t meant to be. It was a warning, to yourself and anyone who crossed your path: it had been too long since you’d fed. 

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you growled, fingers wrapping around the refrigerator handle. You were being harsh, but you felt you couldn’t be responsible for what you did in a state like this. It was hard enough to ignore the violent urge to attack Jimin in the middle of the kitchen, bright and early on a fine Saturday morning. 

“Y/N…” Jimin called out to your back. “Are you okay?” 

You spun around to face Jimin. “Do I fucking look okay?” you hissed.

If Jimin was scared of you, he certainly was doing an amazing job at hiding it. He was looking at you with an odd mix of fascination and… something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His bright eyes were wide and he watched you with his lips slightly parted. His tongue darted out to run along his bottom lip, and you saw his eyes sweep over your body for a moment. 

“You don’t have any more… blood left.” 

You almost didn’t hear what he said, your eyes locked on the way his lips parted and his tongue touched his teeth as he spoke that word and the way he swallowed hard once he finished speaking. 

The burning in your chest pulled you out of your hungry stupor and you turned from Jimin to fling the refrigerator open. No bottles of your favorite prepackaged blood drinks, humanely sourced from human donors sympathetic for the vampires’ curse (or desperate for some easy cash). Not a single one. Not even an animal-based blood beer. 

“Motherfucker.” How had you forgotten to stock up? 

If Jimin was smart, he’d have left already. You weren’t erratic, but you certainly weren’t in the best of moods. The idea of having to haul your ass all the way to the dining hall to retrieve your blood rations across campus was less than ideal. Maybe you could have Nikki or Jin bring you some; they only lived a few resident halls down.

You were ripped out of your thoughts by Jimin’s sudden presence. He leaned against the kitchen counter, carding his fingers through his fluffy pink hair. Reaching the back of his head, he let his hand run along his neck, over his collarbones, and then fall to his side once more. 

“What?” You glared. You didn’t like how Jimin had a habit of just looking at you. For someone who loved running his mouth with questions, he certainly sat with his mouth hanging open and nothing coming out at the most inconvenient of times. 

“You can drink my blood.” 

“What?!” you repeated, coughing out of shock. “Jimin, what the fuck?” 

He looked at you through hooded eyes like he had the night before, and you remembered the whole reason why you hadn’t eaten in nearly twenty-four hours. 

“I give you permission to drink my blood.” He took a step towards you. The syrup on his breath was sugary and domestic, something you knew to be comforting in human culture, but that you had never gotten to experience before.  

“You have no fucking idea what you’re saying,” you hissed, backing up. But Jimin only pressed on. 

“Let me help you.” His voice was soft and gentle, alluring even.   

The temptation was so strong you felt as though your body and your soul were pulling each other in opposite directions, ripping at the seams. Fuck, he would taste so good. You knew it. 

“Stop it.” You pressed your hands against his chest, holding him at arm’s length. “It’s against the rules. And I will hurt you.” Let’s not pay attention to how firm he felt under your fingers. Let’s not focus on the fact that you knew firsthand what was underneath that baggy t-shirt. 

There was too fucking much going on. 

“I don’t care,” Jimin encouraged, lips falling into a pout, though his eyes still burned into yours with an intensity that made you shiver. You, the monster. 

Your eyes fell to his throat and you wondered if he purposefully swallowed. 

“I…” you breathed heavily, eyes finding Jimin’s once again. You could feel your resolve weaken, and somehow Jimin could sense it. He leaned into your hands, causing your elbows to bend and allowing him to get even closer. 

“I know you want to,” he whispered, your chests now almost touching. “I saw the way you looked at me last night.” 

Fuck. 

You shook your head, but you didn’t make any effort to push Jimin away. You could, if you wanted to. You were naturally twice as strong as him, if not more than that. And yet you just watched as he tilted his head for you, his breathing becoming airy and shallow. 

At that moment there was a loud knock at the door. You’d been so distracted by Jimin that you hadn’t noticed the sound of anyone approaching your dorm. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you muttered, finally shoving Jimin away from you. He had the audacity to look upset, but you were already trying to block the entire interaction out of your brain. 

You stood on your toes to look into the peephole and let out a low groan once you saw who was standing outside your door. 

“Nikki, what the fuck?” You pried the door open enough to poke your head out. “What do you want?” 

“I texted you multiple times - wait, oh my god, Y/N, did you get breakfast yet?” Her eyes lit up with fear, and her hands reached out to touch your cheek, finally noticing your red eyes. You shook away the physical affection. 

“I’m about to leave now. Can you go with me?” You didn’t want to make the trek alone and you needed someone to make sure you didn’t get left with Jimin any longer. 

“Of course,” Nikki nodded, concern still warping her features. “Can I come inside?” 

“If you came over to get a look at Jimin…” 

“No! I swear, I was coming to see if you wanted to go to the dining hall. I swear.” You didn’t believe her, but you had no choice but to let her in. You were still wearing your sweaty pajamas. 

“Don’t do anything stupid. I got issues with him today.” You knew Nikki would want more information than just that, but you weren’t ready to admit anything fully. 

Jimin was still leaning against the kitchen counter, though he meandered into the living room when Nikki plopped onto the couch. 

“Good morning,” he said politely, that classic smile turning his eyes into half moons. “I’m Jimin.” How the fuck had he turned back into the sweet boy with puffy cheeks and a toothy grin in a matter of seconds? 

“Nice to meet you, Jimin.” 

You watched Nikki’s eyes investigate Jimin from head to toe and back again, before matching his sweet demeanor by introducing herself, as well. There was no denying the interest she was taking in him; you’d have to remind her later that she technically had a boyfriend. The less time the two of them spent alone together, the better. 

Speeding through a shower, you didn’t bother to do anything with your hair or makeup, just opting to slip into jeans and a clean t-shirt. You weren’t the type to care much about your appearance, unless you were doing something important. And even then, you dressed for yourself more than for anyone else. 

Right now, you were concerned about not starving to death or attacking your psychopathic roommate. The way you looked mattered very little. 

“Oooh, I would love for you to teach me sometime,” Nikki cooed. 

“Let me know when you’re free and we can meet up.” 

You could just tell from Nikki’s voice that she had that dreamy look on her face that she got when she was trying to lure in someone she thought was cute. You came around the corner to see Jimin and Nikki sitting a bit too close together for your liking. The twinge in your gut wasn’t a feeling you were very pleased to experience, and you didn’t want to unpack the jealousy causing your chest to heat up. What the fuck was there to be jealous about? You’d gladly let Jimin be someone else’s problem. 

“Teach you what?” You shot Nikki a suspicious look and she gave you an awkward smile. 

“Did you know that Jimin dances? No wonder he’s got killer-” 

“Great! Let’s go before the dining hall closes for the morning, aight?” You snatched Nikki’s forearm and pulled her from the couch. 

“Bye Jimin!” Nikki waved at the boy, practically swooning over the grin he sent her way as you slammed the front door closed between them. 

“Y/N, he’s so precious, why do you act like he’s the devil?” Nikki clasped her hands together, the dreamy look still clouding her vision. You ignored her question and draped an arm over her shoulder to guide her towards food. 

“He’s not as innocent as he pretends to be,” you said with a tight frown. You thought you were good at reading people, but Jimin was throwing you for a loop. 

“Did something happen?” 

You shook your head, stepping into the warm air outside. Another great myth debunked; vampires could be in the sun for short spurts of time without any issue. You loved the mornings when the sun’s rays weren’t overbearing and you could absorb the rays with no fear of your energy being drained. 

“Y/N, you can tell me.” 

You sighed, knowing you shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. “He brought some girl over and they were all over each other in the living room. It was just annoying.” 

“Boys are gross.” Nikki sniffed the late-summer air, sensing the impending arrival of autumn. 

You felt a pinch of guilt mix with all the other fucked up emotions swirling around in your stomach, but you couldn’t bring yourself to spill it all to Nikki. Though you weren’t sure why. Ever since the two of you had met freshman year, you’d been inseparable. You knew Nikki told you everything. You were the one being a bitch. 

“Yeah… they are.” 

🩸

Living with Jimin for almost a month was enough time for you to figure out his schedule. That meant that it was easier for you to avoid him after your little situation in the kitchen. It had been a few days and you still hadn’t seen or spoken to him, purposefully waking up before he did and coming home after you knew he would be in bed. You were still attempting to process what had happened. Was Jimin attempting to reach the high that came with a vampire bite, like some kind of drug? Did he want to become a vampire? 

You’d heard of humans who were into that kind of shit, like fetishes or being a genuine junkie for the twisted pleasure vampires could sometimes provide. The possibilities made you shiver, and you couldn’t help but think back to the way he’d immediately gone into his room to finish off what he’d started with the girl he’d brought over. Or the way he clearly enjoyed her sucking on his neck. 

You nearly ran into the glass door of the library from being lost in your spiraling thoughts. Luckly, some kind soul opened the door for you before you could react. Although most of the research you needed to do for your history midterm paper could be done online, there was one book in particular that you needed to get your hands on.

With midterm finals around the corner, the library was unsurprisingly packed. Your desire to stay away from people pushed you to peruse the stacks and leave once you found your book, not wanting to find a place in the library to work. 

Assuming you’d actually find the book. 

You arrived at the bookshelf you knew the book was supposed to be, but you couldn’t find it. Someone had misplaced books, authors with the last name of “A” showing up in the “G” section of the stacks. 

“Why are people so fucking stupid,” you muttered under your breath, though there was no one in the aisle to hear you. That is, until you saw a familiar face round the corner. You thought about dashing out of the aisle, but he’d already caught sight of you, his gaze boring into yours. 

“Hi,” Jimin said quietly, being mindful of the fact that you were in a library. The airy sound of his voice made your stomach flutter. He was wearing tight jeans with the knees ripped out, the material hugging his thighs in a way that pissed you off. On top of that, the cut of his t-shirt accentuated his chest and the swell of his biceps filling tightly in his sleeves. 

You did your best to look him in the face rather than allow your eyes to travel to his smooth throat or lower. 

“Have you been hiding from me in the library this whole time?” He gave you a sad pout, head cocked to the side. Why were you starting to feel guilty? 

“No,” you said flatly, turning to look at the spine of one of the books on the shelf. It was nothing interesting to you, except for in this very specific moment. 

Jimin took another step forward. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” His voice came out low and deeper than usual. You felt its vibrations ripple through your body to your toes. 

“I think you’re playing with something that’s not meant to be played with,” you spoke through your teeth, not saying what you meant, but saying enough that you knew Jimin knew what you were talking about. Whatever his interest was in vampires, it was dangerous. 

“Hmm… but there’s something else I want to play with, that I haven’t been able to.” He gave you an innocent smile as if his words weren’t laced with innuendo. 

“Jimin,” you hissed him a warning, baring your fangs in an effort to get him to back off. Although he was ever the obedient boy and did finally step out of your personal space, he held that innocent smile and never once faltered during your attempt to be intimidating. If anything, it made those adorable cheeks become even fuller, as though he were enjoying it. 

“Hey, no need for that,” he put his hands up, pointing at your teeth. “I just wanted to ask you a question.” 

When did Jimin not have questions for you? With a sigh, you nodded your head. The boyish smile he often wore came back and you were convinced you’d never grow tired of seeing the expression on him, even as annoying as he was. 

“I was going to tell you earlier but I could never find you…” he started off slowly, and you ignored the frown he gave you. He could have texted you if it was that important… “Tomorrow night my dance group is having a performance and I wanted to invite you.” 

You blinked, clearly taken by surprise that the question wasn’t some inappropriate inquiry about vampires’ lives. Jimin looked at you with hope sparkling in his eyes. 

“Oh,” you exhaled, feeling your body relax a bit. “Umm, I need to get ahead on one of my papers, but if I feel like I’m in a good spot I can go? Just text me the details?” It wasn’t a yes, but it also wasn’t a no. 

That seemed to be enough for Jimin because he was back to beaming at you again. He bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment. “Sure! And Nikki is invited, too!” 

You didn’t like that. Not that you weren’t planning on bringing her with you anyway, but you didn’t like that he’d offered the idea first. “Yeah, for sure. Thanks.” The two of you stared at each other while you tried to figure out how to walk away. “I’ve gotta go…” 

“Right. Good luck with your paper!” 

You nodded a thanks and left, completely forgetting that you still hadn’t gotten the book you needed.

🩸

It came as no surprise that Nikki forced you to go to Jimin’s performance. She was always forcing you to be social, though you were convinced there was an ulterior motive this time. She just wanted to see Jimin grab his dick as he thrusted and do some body rolls to sexually explicit music. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see those things, too (although you’d never admit it out loud). You just didn’t feel like doing shit with other people. 

Which was why, weeks later, she was harassing you about your Halloween plans. She figured now that you were starting to become friends with Jimin (her words, not yours), it was now time for the rest of your friends to meet him. 

Or maybe she just wanted to go to a party with Jimin and see if she could be on the receiving end of his thrusting. 

“Y/N, you have to host the Halloween party. Your dorm is the only one big enough for everyone to pregame in before we go to the frat houses.” It was the same plea Nikki had made the year before. How were you the unlucky one to always end up with the better apartment? 

It was impossible to say no to someone like Nikki. She was determined, knew how to give a good pout, and pulled the whole “we’ve been bonded for life through blood magic, you can’t say no to me” excuse. All three were a deadly combination that made you cave every single time. 

So it was no surprise that the two of you were examining each other’s outfits in your bedroom. Despite the fact that the party was in your own dorm, you were fashionably late. The speakers were blaring in the living room, and the living room and kitchen were already packed with your closest friends - and plenty of plus ones you didn’t know.   

“Okay, what do you think? I think you look hot.” Nikki handed her phone to you so you could see a photo of yourself. Though you couldn’t use mirrors, you could show up in digital photos. How lovely was modern technology? 

You examined your slutty Princess Tiana outfit, zooming in on a few details before handing the phone back to Nikki. 

“You look hotter,” you said with a grin and a wiggle of your eyebrows, admiring her thrilling interpretation of Cinderella. Both of your outfits were complete with skirts that just barely covered your ass and the cutest garters you’d ever seen. Provocative clothing wasn’t really your thing, but Halloween was all about being something you weren’t. Plus, you were already kind of drunk and alcohol was perfect for loosening you up. 

Some people even said that alcohol made you nice. What an idea! 

“NIKKI! Y/N! COME OUT HERE!” Jin’s voice carried over the pop music. 

You and Nikki struggled to suppress giggles as you stared at each other, tightly clutching your drinks in your hands. Jin was 400 years old; he certainly knew how to throw a party. That was why you trusted him to take over while you finished getting ready. 

Finally satisfied with your looks, you slipped out of your bedroom with Nikki at your heels and immediately collided with Jin. No surprise, he was dressed like a 1600s pirate. You had yet to find evidence that Jin really had been a pirate in his early days, but you also didn’t have a reason to think he was lying, either. 

“We’re doing shots and then once Hobi texts me, we’re heading over to Sig Nu,” Jin hollered over the music and you were too drunk to question if you should maybe turn it down before you all got in trouble. 

“You know I never turn down shots,” Nikki grinned with a shimmy of her shoulders. “But someone has to make sure Y/N doesn’t take her fucking clothes off this time.” 

“Hey!” You jabbed Nikki in the arm with your index finger. “That happened one time and I blame whatever the fuck ATO put in their juice.” 

Nikki threw her head back in a cackle, grabbing onto Jin’s waist to hold herself up as she fell backwards. He struggled to get a good grip on her without her spilling her drink all over his flowy ruffled shirt. 

“Can you please at least attempt to stand on your own? You look like-” 

Jin’s mouth hung open and his eyes grew wide as he looked at you. You matched his shocked face, wondering what you might have done to make him look like he’d seen a ghost. But before you could question him, you heard a sweet voice speak behind you. 

“Y/N, you take your clothes off when you get drunk?” 

You turned around a bit too quickly and felt your brain slosh inside your skull. You almost thought you were imagining things when your eyes landed on your roommate in a firefighter costume. Jimin was shirtless, and his abs somehow looked even more toned than they had those many weeks ago on that disaster of a night. He wore black shorts that accentuated his muscular thighs, with red suspenders that were strapped tightly against his pec muscles. He looked like he’d walked straight out of a porno. 

“Holy shit, Jimin, you look hot,” Nikki blurted out, finally standing on her own two feet without the help of Jin. She would pull herself together if it meant being able to check out a cute guy. 

You and Jin both struggled to snap your mouths shut once more, eyes following Jimin as he stepped closer. 

“Thanks,” he grinned, and you felt like your legs were going to give out. The feeling only intensified when you felt Jimin’s warm, strong hands hold your bare waist for a second as he moved past you in the tight hallway. “Excuse me, princess.” You sucked in your breath at the pet name and locked eyes with Jimin. He gave you the most innocent smile when he saw the look on your face. “Nice costume.” 

Right. Because you were dressed like Princess Tiana . A princess. 

“I need to get caught up on all the drinking. I’m too sober right now.” And with that Jimin was on his way. 

“Look at his back muscles. Look at his back muscles,” Nikki hissed, barely waiting until Jimin was out of earshot. She pressed a hand against her forehead and sighed. “I’m burning up. Maybe I need Jimin to put out my fire.” 

“Your boyfriend is quite literally in the other room,” Jin pointed out, making Nikki dramatically roll her eyes. 

“It was a joke, Jin.” 

“Sure it was.” 

The two began to drunkenly bicker, carrying their silly argument out into the living room where the other guests were drinking and dancing in preparation for the fraternity houses. You didn’t realize how long you stood in the hallway with your cup raised to your lips, eyes trained on the threshold Jimin had walked through to get to the kitchen. You should have never agreed to let him invite his friends over to pregame as well. You should have told him there would be too many vampires, that he should go find a different room to pregame in. 

Giving your body a little shake, you tried to walk a straight line to the kitchen to find Jimin standing a bit too close to another guy, someone you vaguely recognized as one of his dance team members. The guy was much taller than him, with sandy blonde hair and dimples set so deeply in his cheeks when he smiled that you almost swooned. He was dressed in fitting scrubs that accentuated his muscles, a stethoscope around his neck. Your stomach churned when you watched the guy loop his finger around Jimin’s suspenders, pulling him close to whisper something in his ear. Whatever he said made Jimin bite his bottom lip. 

“Jimin,” you called out, determined to break up whatever the fuck that was, though you weren’t sure why you felt that way. 

Eyes wide like he’d been caught, Jimin took a step back from the other man and turned to you. “Yeah?” 

“Are you going to Sig Nu with us?” 

He nodded slowly. “Namjoon’s in Sigma Nu.” He jutted a thumb at his friend and the man gave you a large grin.

Ignoring Namjoon, you kept your eyes on Jimin. “Just… Please be careful, okay? Crazy shit always happens at that house.” 

“Thank you,” he smiled. “But I think I’ll be fine.” You hated the way Namjoon smirked at your concerns, catching Jimin’s eye. 

You couldn’t question Jimin any further because Jin started rounding up everyone in your dorm to smash themselves like sardines into the kitchen, screaming his rendition of Shots, Lil Jon’s part, of course. You couldn’t help but laugh; Jin really loved his early 2000’s bangers. 

After having one too many shots of your own, you vaguely remembered getting to the frat house. It was all a blur of you and Nikki holding each other up, singing along to some other terrible pop music as you skipped down the road, your army of friends following around you. In your drunkenness you’d lost track of Jimin, but you decided that you didn’t care. He could have his dance team friend with the muscles and the stethoscope. You did not care. 

“Nikki, I need to have sex,” you declared into your friend’s ear. The two of you stood in the corner of the kitchen, filling up on drinks. 

“With me?” 

“What? No!” you gasped. “Wait… Do you want to have sex with me?” 

“No! I was just making sure I knew what you were talking about!” 

The two of you bursted into a fit of giggles, catching the attention of a few frat guys passing through. 

“You look fucking hot and you’re in a house full of horny college boys. Just go out there and shake a lil ass. Someone will swoop you up.” 

“I guess…” Random hookups weren’t your thing at all, but maybe this was what you needed. You hadn’t had sex in a really long time; perhaps an orgasm could reset your brain. 

“Go! Please let me live vicariously through you since Jin won’t let me be a freak.” Nikki gave you a hearty slap on the ass and pushed you into the main room where everyone was dancing. 

With alcohol flowing through you, it was easy to get lost in the feeling of the music and the heavy air inside the house, sticky with the scent of sweat and beer. Nikki hadn’t been wrong; it didn’t take long for you to feel hands slide along your sides, fingers brushing your exposed midriff before each hand settled on grabbing your hips. Whoever the man was used his grip on your hips to pull you backwards against his chest. With your eyes closed, you leaned your head against the man’s chest and girated with him to the music, grinding your ass on his crotch to feel it already semi-hard as his hands tickled the smooth skin of your hips. Dancing with strangers was a normal part of frat parties. Although you were always careful about your surroundings, being intoxicated definitely loosened you up a bit, and you were more willing to agree to things that were a bit less logical. 

You felt lips brush against your earlobe and the man’s breath against your neck sent a tingling sensation down to your core. He was human. You could feel his pulse pressed against your shoulder blades. 

“Y/N,” the man spoke into your ear just loud enough for you to hear over the loud music and your eyes shot open. 

“Jimin…” you inhaled shakily, pausing your dancing. 

“I’ve missed you,” he said with a sigh, dipping his head down to press his lips against the soft spot of your jaw below your ear. 

You shivered, his mouth searing your skin with a heat that made your senses go feral. Where was all this coming from? You knew Jimin had been confident with you in the past, but this was a whole different level of boldness. You’d never been so close to him before, let alone have him kissing you. 

“No you haven’t. We were literally pregaming in our dorm an hour ago. You’re just drunk.” 

“Yeah, but we never spend time together,” he protested against your skin. You felt his right hand glide to your front to play with the hem of your skirt. You finally turned around to look at him, his hand now resting on your ass. You could feel his growing erection against your thigh.  

“Park Jimin.” Whatever threat you had for him had dissolved on your tongue the moment you met his dark eyes. You were pressed against his bare chest, the skin of your stomach meeting his. His cheeks were puffy with a smile and bright red from being flushed due to the alcohol pumping through his system. A bit of perspiration was making his face shiny and his pink bangs were brushed up, exposing more of his forehead. 

“Yes?” He grinned with his teeth, the lights of the party dancing in his bloodshot eyes.  

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Nikki watching the two of you with raised eyebrows. “I can’t…” You turned back to Jimin. “We can’t.” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish your sentence, but it didn’t matter. 

You quickly detached yourself from Jimin’s hold and rushed towards Nikki, refusing to look back. You needed to get away from the sound of his heart, the sweet smell of his skin, the tantalizing memory of the sounds beating from his bedroom those many weeks ago. He was too dangerous; you couldn’t trust yourself around him anymore. 

“Umm, what was that?” Nikki grabbed your arm and pulled you off to the side of the room, away from the sea of horny, grinding college students. 

“He’s been flirting with me for months,” you blurted out, the alcohol making you finally fess up. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You could hear the hurt in Nikki’s voice, but you couldn’t worry about that right now. 

“You don’t get it,” you pleaded with her. “I can’t do this anymore, Nikki. He’s… he’s too much.” 

Nikki crossed her arms against her chest and gave you a hard look. It was usually you who was the one to be shooting daggers with your eyes, but this time Nikki was taking control. 

“You literally just said you wanted to go find someone to have sex with,” she challenged you. 

“He’s a human,” you spoke in a strained, exasperated tone. 

Nikki shot her angry glare off to the side to discourage some gross frat boy from walking in your direction. “Fuck off, we’re talking, okay?” 

She turned back to you, “Yeah, no shit. Who cares? He wants you, you obviously want him. I know you, Y/N. You think you’re a bitch, but you’re a genuinely good person. You won’t hurt him.” 

You scoffed, but it was half-hearted. Nikki’s eyes softened a bit as she watched you, reaching out to take your hand. “If you would just stop being such a hardass and accept him for what he is, you might find that you actually like him…” 

“Oh shut up, you’re drunk.” 

“So?? You know my best advice and wisdom comes out when I’m drunk!” Nikki punched you in the arm and threw her head back in an eruption of laughter. You could practically feel Jin pushing through the crowd to find her, as if her laugh was his alert that Nikki was probably going to fall over at any moment. 

You chewed on your bottom lip, twisting your hands together. Maybe Nikki was right. Maybe you’d been freaking out too much. Sure, Jimin had some weird fascination with vampires, but a lot of humans did. And sure, he was quite literally mouthwatering, but Nikki knew you better than anyone else in the world, and she knew you would never harm another person (if they didn’t deserve it). Jimin was gentle and trustworthy. 

“Fuck it,” you hissed, dropping your hands and spinning around to where Jimin had stood. But, of course, he was nowhere to be found. You waved down Jin who’d passed through the sea of people. 

“Can you watch Nikki?” you asked him. 

Nikki punched you again. “Hey, I don’t need a babysitter!” 

Jin rolled his eyes and wrapped a firm arm around his friend. You gave him a small smile in thanks and began to walk away. But you paused, turning for a second. 

“Do you know where Jimin is?” 

Jin cocked his head to one side and gave you a long stare. “I saw him go upstairs with Celeste.” Jin barely got the fellow vampire’s name out of his mouth before you were pushing your way through the living room of the frat house, finding the front stairs and hurrying up them, not caring who might try to look up your skirt as you went. 

Celeste was a psychopath. You were absolutely sure of it. Ever since humans were allowed into the university, she had been seen luring human men into her clutches more than once. And they always walked away completely ruined or absolutely obsessed with her. She was playing them like Barbie dolls, putting them under her spell. And it wasn’t just sex. You knew she was drinking from them. Everyone knew. 

The music was muted upstairs which made it a bit easier to listen for voices as you crept down the hallway. You stopped at each bedroom door, leaning close to listen for, well, anything. So far, every room you peeked into was unoccupied - which was surprising for a frat party. The longer it took, the more anxiety built up inside of your chest. You tried not to think about what might be happening between Jimin and Celeste because the deeper your brain got sucked into those thoughts, the more you wanted to throw up. 

Pull yourself together, you scolded yourself. Maybe you should have left Jimin alone. He was an adult; he could take care of himself. What he did was none of your business. 

You’d almost convinced yourself that all of that was true until you heard a familiar giggle from the bedroom to your left. You lunged for the doorknob and felt like crying when you found it locked. You could technically rip the thing off, but that wouldn’t be very polite to whoever’s bedroom it was. 

“Sorry, this room is taken!” you heard Celeste’s sing-songy voice attempt to push you away. 

“Open the fucking door, Celeste,” you hissed, rattling the doorknob. “Don’t make me have to rip it the fuck off. I bet Suyoon wouldn’t be very happy with you.” Suyoon, her boyfriend and president of Sigma Nu. Celeste really was trash. 

You heard a loud sigh and suddenly the door was being flung open. The other vampire was donning a slutty maid outfit, her boobs pushed up so far they were practically in her face. You looked around her to see Jimin sitting on the edge of the bed, and for once he actually looked mad at you. 

“What do you want, Y/N?” Celeste snapped her fingers in your face to get your attention. You wanted to fucking bite them off. 

“Jimin, we’re leaving,” you commanded, ignoring Celeste. 

“So now you want me around?” Jimin sneered. It was the expression he gave you, and less the words, that stung. You shot him the dirtiest look you could muster and bared your fangs with a low hiss.

“We. Are. Fucking. Leaving.” 

“Jimin, you don’t have to listen to her,” Celeste cooed, walking back to stand beside Jimin. She lifted his chin to have him look into her eyes, stretching his neck all the way out. “You want to stay here with me, don’t you?” 

The air in the room grew cold and you felt a heavy weight press down on your chest. It was then that you realized what she was doing. She was hypnotizing him. 

“Celeste, stop it!” You pushed the other vampire, causing her to stumble backwards and break her connection with Jimin. “You’re not allowed to manipulate the humans’ minds.” 

Giving Jimin an apologetic look, you slapped him in the face as hard as you could without severely injuring him. “Ow, what the fuck?” he cursed, holding his hand to his cheek. 

Shaking your head, you grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet, ignoring the way steam was practically shooting from Celeste’s ears. She couldn’t do or say anything; she knew she was in the wrong, and there was too much she could fuck up if she kept pushing her luck. So she watched you drag Jimin out of the room in silence, her arms crossed against her chest. 

“Why did you slap me?” he pouted, still rubbing his cheek. You led him down the stairs and pushed him through the front door. The cool October air was a welcomed reprieve from the stuffiness of the frat house. You maneuvered through groups of people loitering in the front yard until you reached the sidewalk. It was then that you finally let go of your death drip on Jimin’s arm. 

“Celeste was fucking with your brain,” you said simply. You clenched your jaw, working your molars into each other, and tried to focus on the walk to your dorm instead of the man who followed you. 

“Maybe I wanted her to.” 

You stopped in your tracks and grabbed onto one of Jimin’s suspenders, pulling him close to your face. “She was going to drain you until you’re barely clinging to life and then blame someone else for it, just like she did that kid who went to the hospital last month. You know that kid?” Jimin nodded his head, eyes wide as he stared at your mouth. “Everyone said he got alcohol poisoning but you can’t believe shit that comes out her mouth. She’s evil, Jimin. And you’re stupid.” 

You let him go, the suspender snapping against his bare skin and causing him to yelp. “So next time I have to save your ass from a psychopath, you better fucking listen to me.” 

The two of you spent the rest of the walk in silence. You sent a text to Nikki to let her know that you’d made it to your dorm safely, and then you shoved Jimin through the door, slamming it shut a bit too aggressively. 

“Drink some water,” you commanded gruffly. You held onto the wall to steady yourself as you took off your heels, eyes still glaring at Jimin when he met your gaze. This was exactly why Nikki’s encouragement was stupid. Vampires and humans were just incompatible. 

You could not believe you’d really thought about fucking him. 

You gingerly tiptoed down the hall to your bedroom, feet sore from the uncomfortable shoes. They were the least of your worries. You felt like you’d just hopped off an emotional rollercoaster, head still spinning and your legs trying to remember how to walk. Despite feeling absolutely disgusting, you couldn’t bring yourself to take a shower. It felt like too much effort, so you opted for stripping your costume off and pulling a baggy t-shirt on. Figuring you’d at least brush your teeth, you stepped back into the hallway. 

Before you could enter the bathroom, you felt Jimin’s arm snake around your waist, pulling you against him. “Thank you,” he said slowly, drawing his bottom lip into his teeth for a moment. “Thank you for looking out for me.” 

“It’s what friends are for, right?” Your body tensed in his embrace, and you couldn’t meet his gaze. The more time you spent with Jimin, the harder it was to understand him. 

“I don’t want you to be my friend,” Jimin breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to touch me.” 

“What?” You swallowed thickly, eyes shooting up to look at him. 

“I want you to touch me… here.” He took your hand and placed it against his neck, pressing your fingertips into the skin above his pulse. You let out a shaky breath as you felt his heart beat against your fingers. 

“And here…” He dragged your hand from his neck down the length of his naked chest. “…and here…” He pressed your hand against the hard bulge in his pants. Curling his fingers, he wrapped your hand around his cock over his pants. Tightening your fingers beneath his, Jimin bucked into your palm slightly. His eyes never once left yours, and you watched his mouth slowly part. A light whine left his lips when he squeezed your hand around himself even harder. Holding his stare as he jacked himself off with your hand was proving to be too much for you. You could feel your pussy begin to throb, your arousal a burning heat between your thighs. It was the only time you really felt warm, felt alive. 

“I brought Imani over on purpose,” he said in a low voice, hand still moving yours back and forth. “I thought it might make you jealous.” 

“Ohh…” Your fingers reached a damp spot in the front of Jimin’s pants and his heartbeat quickened. 

“Sometimes I think you think I’m more oblivious than I really am,” he said with a small laugh, a twinkle in his eye that wasn’t there before; however, it quickly diffused into something much darker. “I know you heard me.” 

You halted the movements of your hand and willed yourself to get a grip on the situation. How had you so easily fallen into Jimin’s trap? 

“What are you talking about…” you questioned slowly, pulling your hand away from him. 

Jimin leaned into you further, closing the space you’d created between the two of you. “I know you heard me in my room when Imani left,” he whispered, licking his lips. “Touching myself. Do you know what I was thinking about?” 

You stayed silent and the realization that you weren’t going to speak made Jimin laugh again. 

“You,” he finally spoke once more. “I was thinking about you. Imagining you were the one biting my neck.” 

It felt like your legs were going to give out beneath you, but you stiffened your body to hold yourself together. There was no way you were going to give in that easily, no matter what Nikki said. 

“Need I remind you that you were about to fuck Celeste not even half an hour ago?” you snapped. You’d never been interested in anyone who considered you disposable. Replaceable. 

Jimin shrugged, his face going soft for a split second. “Celeste isn’t you, though.” 

You were at a loss for words. Jimin ran his nose up the length of your neck, stopping to nibble on your earlobe. It was insane how his gestures weren’t anything big; he hadn’t even attempted to kiss you or touch your body more than what he’d done at the party. So how were these small actions already unraveling you? 

“Bite me, Y/N. Please.” Jimin was practically begging. He slotted one of his legs between yours and ground his erection up into your thighs, your t-shirt pushed up to reveal your underwear.  

Despite what people may have thought about your tough demeanor, you’d never drank a person’s blood aside from during your coming of age ceremony. You were scared. Scared of becoming the monster society wanted so badly to make you out to be. 

“You’re drunk.” The argument was feeble and you both knew it. Jimin was probably more sober than you were at this point. 

“I want this,” he pushed on. “I want you.” He grabbed the back of your head and finally crashed his lips into yours. They were so fucking silky it made your chest ache for how many months you’d gone not knowing their caress. He forced you to swallow the softest of moans you’d ever heard in your life. Jimin’s moans sounded like the sigh of an angel, but the high pitched edge of lust that made the moan draw out against your mouth was what reminded you that this was anything but innocent. No matter how sweet Jimin looked. 

You felt his tongue slip inside of your mouth and the tip of it ran along the sharp point of one of your fangs. Jimin pressed his tongue just hard enough to prick it, causing the tiniest bit of blood to leak into your mouth.

Your eyes flew open and you shoved Jimin away from you. 

“Jimin, what the fuck…” You swallowed, but the taste of his blood was like thick nectar coating the inside of your mouth. “You did that on purpose.” 

“I did,” he grinned, grabbing a fistfull of your t-shirt to pull you close again. You wanted to slap the smirk off Jimin’s face, but your body took over and you found yourself latched onto him again. You wrapped your lips around his tongue and sucked on it. 

“Do it,” Jimin pulled away, pupils blown out and face flushed pink. “You want it. I see it in your eyes.” 

Your brain screamed for you to stop, but your body backed Jimin up until his legs hit your bed. You pushed his shoulders down so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, giving you better access to his upper body since he was so much taller than you standing. 

“If it hurts too much… push me away, okay? You have to push me away.” Your hands trembled as you tilted his head back and to the side, red eyes zeroing in on his pulse under his skin. And with that you plunged your fangs into the soft skin of Jimin’s neck. 

You weren’t sure which one of you moaned, but it was carnal, feral. It was a cry that came from pure animalistic instinct. For a moment you forgot all about Jimin. Your mind was completely blank aside from the taste of him in your mouth. You lapped up his blood with so much fervor you were making obscene sounds echo through the bedroom. 

“Fuck Jimin,” you moaned into his skin. “You taste so good.” 

Nothing could have prepared you for the whimper that fell from his plump lips or the way he began to pant with need. You pulled away to see his eyes flutter and roll back in his head, lost in an ecstasy only you could bring him. Oddly, there was something empowering in that. You felt yourself swell with a smug pride in knowing you had this man weakly trembling under your touch. 

“More,” he asked hoarsely. 

Pushing Jimin onto his back, you climbed on top of him to straddle his legs. You leaned down and pressed a hot kiss against his chest before dragging your fangs along the ripples of his abdomen, leaving small scratch marks barely deep enough to draw the smallest amount of blood. You swiftly dipped your head to run your tongue along the muscles, licking up any blood that rose to the surface. The pinprick of pain made Jimin whimper again and he squirmed beneath your touch. 

He grabbed one of your hands and pressed it against his neck, closing your fingers like he did when he made you grab his cock. “Choke me.”

“You’re a disgusting slut,” you said in response to his request, but Jimin only smiled. He stared down at you, eyes clouded with lust and the euphoria of your venom. 

“Tell me how you really feel.” 

You did as he wanted and tried to ignore the way the action was causing heat to pool in your core. Your fingers turned red as you squeezed him, testing out pressure until you found a force that had him groaning. He reached to unclasp the firefighter suspenders and raised his hips to help you pull off his shorts. You knew his cock was massive; you’d seen the outline that fateful night with Imani and you’d felt some of it in your hands with Jimin’s guidance. But to feel it brush against your thigh, smearing precum on your skin as you moved down the length of Jimin’s body was something else. 

“More, Y/N.” 

You bit the inside of his thigh and Jimin cried out in pain, though his cries quickly turned into a symphony of moans as you swirled your tongue along his sensitive skin to soothe it. 

“Fuck yes,” he shuddered, panting heavily. He reached down to wrap your hair around his hands so he could watch your lips suck on his skin. You were finally realizing what was going on. Sure, Jimin clearly liked riding the high that came with a vampire bite, but there was more to it. He liked the pain. 

“Oh my god, you are a disgusting slut,” you exhaled, lifting your head to look at him. “And I thought this whole time you were…” 

“Innocent? Curious? Stupid?” Jimin grinned and you felt crushed by the weight of your own stupidity for reading him so wrong. 

Ignoring his smug attitude, you returned your focus to his body. Taking one of his nipples between your fingers, you pinched it hard. Jimin jerked but let out a loud moan. Then you scraped your nails down his sides, scratching hot red stripes into his skin. Sweet sounds fell from Jimin’s lips the harder you scratched him, eventually digging your nails into his hips as you pressed kisses everywhere except where you knew he wanted you to. 

There was no way you were sucking his dick, no matter how kinky he was. Fangs and blowjobs weren’t a good combination. 

Breathing hard, you sat back on your knees and stared at the man beneath you. Jimin’s eyes were dark and blown out, and his body was coated in a mist of sweat. Red splotches were smeared along his torso and thigh. You lifted the back of your hand to run it across your lips, noting the red on your skin, too. 

“Are you okay?” you asked slowly, leaning forward to touch his neck. The venom had healed the wounds already, so Jimin looked a lot worse off than he actually was. Your main concern was how much blood you’d taken from him. 

Rather than answer your question, Jimin grabbed your hips and bucked himself into you. You cried out when you felt his cock rub against your clothed pussy. 

“Please, Y/N,” Jimin rasped. “Please let me fuck you. I need to feel you around my cock.” 

“Where the fuck did this dirty mouth come from?” you teased. So maybe having him beg was even better than hearing him moan. You couldn’t act like you were immune to him, though. Your underwear was so soaked through it was becoming uncomfortable. You sat back again to rip off your remaining clothes, your ego swelling up even more as you watched Jimin prop himself up so he could take in your naked form. 

“I can hear your heart starting to beat faster,” you taunted him. You rolled your hips against his, rubbing your dripping cunt along his cock. Jimin threw his head back and let out a low cry, doing his best to lie still for you. 

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted this.” He reached between your bodies to cup your pussy, coating his fingers with your arousal. “I wanted to fuck the shit out of you the moment I met you.” Jimin plunged two fingers inside of you, the force knocking you forward. You bit back a moan as he roughly pumped his fingers into you, all the while watching your face twist and contort as you struggled to hold off the climax that was threatening to push you over the edge. How were you about to come just from his fingers? 

Sensing your tension, Jimin wrapped his other arm around your waist to press your body against him as he continued fingerfucking you. “I want you to scream my name,” he whispered into your ear. “I want you to scream and cry until you can’t fucking talk.” 

How was this the same timid boy who’d shown up at your door a few short months ago? 

Jimin’s open palm came down so hard on your ass you felt your body jolt forward in pain. When he slapped you a second time, he did so at the same moment your resolve finally broke. You felt your walls gush around his fingers and you did everything he’d wanted - you screamed his name into the crook of his neck so loudly you were sure your neighbors could hear you. 

“Does someone else have a pain kink?” Jimin mused, and you shot him a glare once you could trust yourself to lift up from where you’d collapsed on his chest. 

“No. I’m not a freak like you.” 

“Seems like you could be.” 

“You’re impossible. I can’t believe-” You were unable to finish your sentence when Jimin lifted you off of him. He tossed you back onto the bed, hooking his arm around your stomach to lift your hips up so you were on your knees. 

“Why are you always so mean to me?” Jimin purred in your ear, his chest pressed into your back. His fingers returned to your dripping folds, teasing your clit simply because he liked the way it made your thighs shake. 

“Because you’re an annoying asshole,” you stuttered, attempting to lift your head to look back at him. But he gently pushed your head back down so your cheek was pressed into the mattress. Then he ran his hands along your back, holding you in place as you felt the tip of his cock prod your entrance. 

“I’m nothing but sweet.” You could practically hear the smile he was giving you. “But I’m also tired of waiting for you.” And with that he pushed into you. The squelch your soaking pussy made when he eased in reminded you of the sounds you’d heard from your bedroom. The memory, paired with the knowledge that now it was you pleasuring him, made you choke out a moan. 

“Ohh my god,” you squealed, absolutely appalled by the girly sounds coming from you, but you couldn’t help it. 

“You like that?” Another hard slap, this time on your thigh. 

“F-fuck you, Park Jimin.” 

“That’s always been the end goal.” 

You wanted to knock the cockiness out of his voice, but Jimin had brought your wrists around to hold them against your lower back to steady himself. This meant you didn’t have any way to keep yourself up, your body swaying back and forth against the mattress. 

Jimin’s hips snapped against your ass in a steady rhythm, his moans harmonizing with the lewd sounds of skin on skin. Your head was reeling from how vocal he was. It was probably the hottest part of the whole thing; you’d never been with a guy who was so willing to express himself, to beg. The fact that Jimin could switch between being so submissive and then taking control to blow your back out was heavenly. 

It didn’t take long for you to feel another climax coming on, especially once Jimin began rubbing circles against your clit as he pounded into you. You clenched around him, hard, and Jimin jolted slightly. 

“Goddam, Y/N,” he whimpered, attempting to find his pace once again. “You better fucking hurry up and come ‘cause I’m about to lose it.” 

“Wow, you’re so considerate,” you hissed, but a slap to your thigh shut you up. It only took a few more thrusts into your g-spot before you were falling apart again, relying on his hand pressed into your stomach to hold you up as your legs shook when he kept slamming into you. 

“Fuck, you feel that?” Jimin released your wrists to grab one of your hands. He pushed your hand against your abdomen and you felt it bulge every time his cock rammed into your body. “Fuckkkk…” His pace picked up, slamming into you even harder than before. “Y/N, where should I…” Jimin whined the unfinished question. 

“Inside,” you breathed. Though your words were simply an answer to his question, it was as though they were a command. Jimin immediately let himself go, painting your walls with his release. He fell onto you and the both of you sunk into the mattress. 

“I feel like I’m floating on a cloud,” Jimin grinned, puffy cheeks and all. 

You slapped his chest and hated the knowledge that he probably liked it. “You’re just high.” 

“I know. It’s great.” 

The two of you laid there, waiting for your breathing to calm down. You could not believe you fucked a human. Let him nut inside of you, even. What kind of a slut were you? At least you didn’t kill him like you thought you would. 

“I guess you have your answer now.” You stared up at the ceiling, not wanting to look at him any longer. You were just an experiment, an opportunity to taste fruit that had been forbidden his entire life. 

“What do you mean?” Jimin turned onto his side to watch you. 

“If vampire bites feel good. Now you know. I’m sure you’ll want to stick to fucking vampires from now on.” You’d imagine humans couldn’t have quite the same effect, though you couldn’t deny how Jimin had just rocked your fucking world. You had a feeling it was a Jimin thing, rather than a human thing. 

“I guess I will.” 

Your mind flashed to Celeste, but you attempted to stomp the thought out of existence. “Yeah.” 

Jimin brushed his fingers along your stomach, gliding lower until he was stroking the inside of your thigh. You tensed, feeling your body become aroused once more despite the ache from being pummeled after not having sex for so long. 

“Next time I want to eat you out,” he murmured in your ear. “I bet you taste good.” 

You held your breath as Jimin’s fingers inched closer to your core. There was going to be a next time? 

“And then I want to feel those lips wrapped around my cock. I’ll even let you nibble a little,” he said with a breathy laugh that made you shiver.

“You sure you don’t want to try out something new? I heard Celeste’s bite is pleasurable enough to get people hooked,” you said spitefully, your eyes still on the ceiling. There was no denying your possessiveness over him. It had been there from the very beginning, even when Nikki made her jokes. You’d thought it was a strange desire to protect him due to his naivety, but now you were wondering if there was more to it. 

“I already told you.” Jimin moved so he was hovering on top of you, his hands on either side of your head. You felt his semi-hard cock rub against your wetness. “I want you. Nobody else.” 

When you still avoided his gaze he pressed on. “This was never only about chasing some high, Y/N. You’ve made me feel good since the beginning. You just have this thing about you… I don’t know. Maybe ‘cause you’re so mean and I like it.” He gave you a small smile and you knew from living with him for many months that he was teasing, but still genuine. 

“So now what? If I’m meant to believe you.” Forever the skeptic. 

“And you should believe me,” he pointed out. He watched your face for a moment before rolling his hips into yours, making you gasp at how hard he was again. “But for now, maybe I want to ask you to be my girlfriend, and if you say yes maybe I’ll fuck you again until you can’t walk to class in the morning.” 

Well, how could you say no to that?

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

[ordinary-barbie]

dumb & (not) poetic.

frat!rafe x fem!kook!reader

word count: 1.2k

tags: language, established relationship, past enemies to lovers, sexism (NOT from rafe), reader takes down a man, rafe is down baaad, one suggestive comment

summary: Men really should know better than to fuck around and find out with you.

Whipped this up for the brilliant @zyafics' "Make Rafe Great Again" campaign! It's a sort-of sequel to i burn for you but can be read as a standalone :)

There was a point in time when you would have considered being in a relationship with Rafe Cameron a fate worse than death. He was your best friend Sarah’s douchey brother, who lived to annoy you with every step he took and every word that came out of his mouth. Whenever you two were in the same room, you swore you felt your skin crawl and your blood boil.

Then the summer after freshman year of college happened, and you felt yourself falling for the most unexpected person on the planet. (Sarah might have had to give you a nudge—okay fine, more like a push—in the right direction so you could figure things out.) After a blissful summer, you were back at school, navigating this still-new relationship with one of the frat stars of UNC.

Your friends in Kildare may have understood you and Rafe’s new dynamic (Kelce had let it slip that there were bets going to try and predict when the two of you would finally get together), but it was slightly more puzzling to the Greek life crowd that Rafe ran with. You were the polar opposite of the type of girl Rafe usually brought around to parties or formals. You were outspoken, especially politically, and weren’t afraid to get into debates with conservative douches in your college lectures. You had a nose ring, several studs in your ears, and an attitude as sharp as your nails. And you had the driest of wit, always seeming to insult Rafe whenever you were together.

And yet, Rafe was down bad for you—embarrassingly (and endearingly) so. The feeling was mutual, though you were less reluctant to let it show in public besides the occasional hand hold or soft gaze at your boyfriend when you thought he wasn’t looking. Which is why, despite you not loving the whole “frat life” thing, you hung by his side whenever his fraternity threw mixers. You knew how important this shit was to Rafe, so you’d grin and deal with the booze-soaked chaos and typical Spotify party playlists, always replete with booming Future tracks that made the floors shake.

It was the weekend after the first week of classes, and Rafe's frat was throwing a Miami Vice-themed kickback. Rafe was in his element, looking annoyingly handsome in his pastel blue shirt, white blazer, and matching pants. You opted to lean into the 80s aesthetic, channeling Madonna with a mesh black shirt over a black undershirt, a black miniskirt, and fishnet stockings, adding some dangly necklaces to top off the look. It wasn't technically on theme, but you didn't care too much.

Rafe was obsessed. He'd barely left your side all evening, making sure to keep at least a hand on you at all times. After a while, you felt your social battery depleting, choosing to chill with Sarah while watching Rafe team up with his friend Parker in a game of beer pong.

You'd just witnessed Rafe and Parker decimate yet another pair of opponents, a blonde-haired dude who was giving more Tom Cruise in Risky Business than Miami Vice with his white button-down and black shades, and his friend, who wore a pink polo with a popped collar.

"Hey, ladies," Blonde Tom Cruise greeted you and Sarah, grinning lazily at you in particular. You and Sarah exchanged weary looks, already over this dude's bullshit.

"Not interested," you calmly replied, not wanting to make a scene, though of course Rafe was already alert and burning a hole in the back of Blondie's head.

Blonde Tom Cruise laughed. "Damn, at least give a guy a chance before you shoot him down."

"I have a boyfriend," you replied simply. "But even if I didn't, you aren't entitled to even a crumb of my attention just because you're a conventionally attractive white man."

Blonde Tom Cruise's smile faltered slightly. "Oh God, don't tell me you're one of those kinds of women," he joked, rolling his eyes.

You didn't see what was so fucking funny. "What kind of woman do you think I am? I'm curious."

Sarah had a hand over her mouth now, trying her hardest not to giggle. As long as she'd known you, you hadn't taken any shit from guys, whether it be her own brother or some random frat douche. Blondie didn't know what he was in for.

Blonde Tom Cruise shrugged. "You know. One of those women who just hates men and thinks everything's about the 'patriarchy' or whatever the fuck."

"I don't hate men, but I do hate that you don't think the patriarchy affects us all," you said, trying not to react too much towards this complete moron.

Blonde Tom Cruise let out a snort. "I really thought you were hot until you opened your mouth. Honestly, I feel sorry for your boyfriend."

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Rafe stiffening, his jaw clenched. But it was all good—you could fight your own battle today.

You smirked at Blonde Tom Cruise, going in for the kill. "Why would Rafe feel sorry about being with me? I'm confident in myself, and he likes that. Frankly, I think it's sad that you have such a skewed view of feminism and an inability to talk to women like they're normal people. I feel sorry for your future girlfriend. Maybe you should actually learn some human compassion instead of listening to Joe Rogan or whatever other toxic-ass alpha male podcast."

BTC (he wasn't worth the full moniker anymore, not gonna lie) stood there, slack-jawed, his eye twitching. "Hey Cameron, maybe you should think about putting a muzzle on your girl," he snarked, turning to Rafe. "Is it her time of the month or something?"

He smirked, probably thinking Rafe was going to laugh at his joke and apologize on behalf of his bitch of a girlfriend. Oh, honey.

"Nah, I'm enjoying this shit," Rafe replied casually, his cavalier attitude totally unnerving BTC. "I kinda want her to go harder on you, to be honest."

BTC turned bright red, and you could practically smell the humiliation seeping from his pores. "Whatever," he mumbled, making sure to bump into your shoulder on his way out of the frat house.

Sarah scoffed. "Ugh, what an asshole."

You had to agree, though even the word "asshole" seemed far too kind for this guy. It's wild to think that this was the type of frat bro Rafe could have devolved into—entitled, casually sexist, and just completely unpleasant to be around. Rafe had annoyed you for a while (though you delighted in annoying him right back) but he'd never pulled out this obnoxious, incel shit. You'd bury him alive before he even got the chance.

Rafe sauntered over to you, the game of beer pong all but forgotten in his mind. He easily lifted you onto his lap and sat down on the couch, nipping at the nape of your neck.

"You're so hot when you destroy men like that," Rafe muttered into your skin. "I think I actually just got hard."

Sarah jumped off the couch as if it were on fire. "Oh my god, gross. I'm right here, Rafe!"

Rafe chuckled, casually waving his sister away before he pulled you closer to his chest. "I'm just trying to be a proper ally, Sar."

"You're so annoying," you snickered into his chest.

Rafe grinned fondly at you. "Maybe, but I'm still yours," he simply replied.

Your heart squeezed fondly at his words. You'd never have believed it a few years ago, but you were damn lucky to have Rafe Cameron in your life.

[thebatdadnomad]

𝔸 𝔻𝕒𝕫𝕫𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕄𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣-𝕋𝕠-𝔹𝕖

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Pregnant Fem! Reader Summary: He was in Metropolis, you were struggling with your shopping. Neither of you were having a particularly good night, but at least Bruce could remedy yours. Tags: First Meetings, Late Night Conversations, Classy Flirting A/N: Idk why (like I'm nowhere near pregnant), but I've wanted to read about a pregnant reader bc there aren't enough. So, here's my take on this trope! Bruce is such a man, I loved writing his inner monologue here hehehe Stay tuned bc I'll be pumping out Dick and Jay's versions soon >;D

Bruce pocketed the painkillers in his long jacket and strolled out of the grocery store, face mask firmly in place.

He hadn't bothered with much more in the way of disguises tonight. It was late, he was currently in Metropolis of all places, staying at Clark's apartment after a mission gone wrong, and the painkillers weren't for him, but for his ridiculous friend who was out. With Lois abroad, Bruce thought it was a wonder Clark remembered to buy food.

"Just because you don't usually need it,” he had told the delirious man who had been hit by the worst end of a spell from a wizard Zatanna had later taken care of, "doesn't mean that you shouldn't have it."

Of course, Bruce could have transported Clark to the Manor, where he had all the supplies, but seeing how close they had been to his friend's apartment, it felt more practical to simply slip a face mask on and head over to a store.

Now, seeing you in the parking lot with your swollen middle, poorly attempting to carry handfuls worth of heavy products to your vehicle a minute's walk away, Bruce wondered what would've happened had he not been here.

Hn.

How should he word this?

"Excuse me," Bruce raised his voice once he was at an acceptable distance and had thought it through, keeping his tone level but light enough that the words carried over the space.

You didn't turn around immediately, as though you hadn't believed he had been calling for you. So, Bruce repeated himself, slightly louder this time.

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

That was when you turned to face him, and despite his eyesight not being as it used to be, he was sure you were dazzling under the street lights. Glowing with an energy so bright it illuminated your features in a way he couldn’t quite describe. You had to be in his age range, and yet you were so full of life, literally and spiritually. Bruce was momentarily taken aback by how alluring the sight of you was now that he could see you better.

"Yes?"

"Sorry, I," Bruce's brain took a moment to kick back into gear. "I couldn't help but notice you across the parking lot. I was wondering...if you needed help?"

Your eyes poured over him, cold and methodical, as though trying to detect any ulterior motives, but he had none other than what was said.

"I suppose I wouldn't mind some..." You admitted, half alert, half relieved. "If you're offering."

"I am."

"Then please."

With your permission, Bruce closed the distance and took the bags. Neither of you spoke as both of you made your way to your car until he gestured for you to open the boot.

You didn't.

“Thank you, but I can take it from here.”

“No,” Bruce frowned. What kind of gentleman would he be if he let you finish his job for him? “Allow me.”

“I’m...I don’t think that is necessary.”

But. “I insist.”

You watched him, still eyeing him with both kindness and suspicion.

"...How can I be sure that you don't want something else out of this?" You eventually asked, and Bruce would have thought you were from Gotham had your accent not been so different to his. He supposed you had more than just yourself to protect, he understood. "I have nothing against you, but it’s late. We’re essentially alone. What if you're here to – I don't know – take my stuff, push me to the ground, and use my car for a bank heist?"

"A bank heist," Bruce repeated, a little incredulous. "That would be impractical. I could have simply stolen your things from where you were standing if I needed money."

"Maybe you didn't because you are luring me into a fake sense of security, so that I will hand you my car keys without any protest later," you replied. "Maybe you have a heart and you don't want to push a pregnant woman down to get what you want."

"Or maybe I have a heart, and I simply wanted to help you. Maybe you think too much," Bruce said, and it was admittedly odd to be the person on the other end of this accusation. Hypocritical even. He didn’t want to come across as overly critical. "But I'm not one to talk. I was analysing all of ways I could approach you, so I came across the most natural."

You raised an intrigued eyebrow. "So this was premeditated?"

"Premeditated," Bruce huffed, unable to stop his amusement coming through. "You say that as though I have committed a crime."

"Haven't you?"

Bruce stepped closer once he had confirmed your ring finger was empty. "Unless you count talking to beautiful women a crime. In which case, yes, I am guilty."

You paused, a smile creeping into your expression. "You're a flatterer."

"I try."

The final part of your reservations seemed to thaw away then. The bright light of your gleaming soul melted your reasonable apprehension as you opened your boot, and he began to load it.

"...So, you really just came over to help me?"

"Yes," Bruce grunted, neatly slotting the grocery bags inside.

You hummed, leaning on the side of your car, hand absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. "I appreciate that. I am pretty exhausted, as you could probably tell, so this has helped."

"No problem."

"Oh, I'm sure it wasn't a problem for you,” Bruce could practically feel your smile growing. “It seems like you work out."

"Occasionally."

"I think it's more than occasionally," you pondered aloud, eyes darting across his body and what was exposed of his face from beneath the mask. "Although you were clearly born with good genes..."

"What are you implying?" Bruce queried as he finished his task, turning fully to give you his full attention once more.

"I don't think I'm implying anything," you leaned back off the car to steady your weight, and he had never wanted to lift someone into his arms so much. "You are quite possibly the most handsome man I've ever seen, and I have yet to see the bottom half of your face."

Bruce's breaths came out a little heavier, lips tugging at the corners.

"What if I look like a troll underneath this mask?"

You replied softly without a beat. "Well, then you'll be the most handsome troll I have ever seen."

"How inclusive," Bruce was smiling now. It came easily in this moment outside the grocery store. Easier than it should have.

"Oh, shut it," you chuckled just as readily, but it was different. He could tell that you were growing uncomfortable – physically, that was – and it unnerved him.

It was a primal feeling that overwhelmed him then, the pulsing desire to soothe your discomforts and protect you even if you weren't carrying his baby. That feeling made Bruce want to reach out so he could see up close just how clever you were, how elegantly you carried yourself, how strong you were to struggle with the mundane when someone should have been dealing with such things for you. Someone should have been taking care of you. 

Bruce could—

Now that he knew how brilliant you were without caution in the way, he found that he wanted to protect you during the rest of your pregnancy.

But no.

Bruce clenched his jaw, studying you who had stepped into his life and momentarily blinded him. "I guess I should be going now."

"That makes sense. Thank you for your help."

That was a ridiculous idea.

"Hn," Bruce paused, soaking the last of you in before turning his back to you never to see you agai—

"Could I—?" You started, and it was the first time in a long time that he was surprised by anything. "Would it be possible to see you again?"

But then you took a step towards him.

Bruce's mind instantly conjured up a vision of you beside him in a theatre, across from him on his dining table, below him in a hospital bed, holding out a baby that wasn't his but was half of you and oh so beautiful for it and could not believe how much he wanted that with someone he knew absolutely nothing about.

Yet it felt right.

"In a parking lot?" Bruce finally mumbled.

"I’d rather go to dinner," you pulled out your phone, just as quietly.

And Bruce found he couldn't help but be a smudge glad his friend had been hexed, just this one time, smiling a little as he suggested. “I’ll make us a reservation.”

"Perfect," you beamed.

MASTERLIST

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Can’t live without your love inside me now

Tags: sextherapist!Nanami x fem!reader, nocurse!au, taboo romance, heavy topics such as sexual assault, dead dove due to the power imbalance and heavy conversation.

Synopsis: In which Kento Nanami is a sex therapist, and his client is a young neglected wife with an emotionally absent husband. He teaches you what love is really all about.

An: He’s losing his morals, guys… slowly but surely

Part one. | Part two. | Part three.

The rest of Nanami’s week progresses as it should, but Kusakabe’s words continue to repeat like a broken record in his mind. Did he care too much?

He’s only had one session with you thus far, but you seemed to have made a lasting impression. Something about you makes Kento’s brain fire off on all cylinders.

He didn’t believe in typical toxic masculinity culture. Something about the caveman-like “me man. you woman. me protect woman and provide” never really resonated with him.

He has been protective over clients in the past, especially whenever court cases were involved. He would come to their hearings with them for moral support. He also actively advocated against laws threatening the sanctity of reproduction rights for womb-havers.

He wanted what was best for his clients, but when it came to you… He personally had thought about paying your husband a little visit multiple times throughout the week.

It had to be something about your nature, he reasoned. Your soul simply resonated with his on a different chord. He wasn’t acting unethically. No, he was just experiencing natural biological influences.

At least, that’s what he tells himself as he watches you settle in on his couch for a second session. You look so naturally breathtaking that Nanami doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath. You weren’t wearing anything fancy, but you had managed to capture his gaze.

He bites back the urge to tell you that you look lovely today. While it’s true and it’d be a nice way to open the session, it’d also cross a line.

“Usually, I start out with pleasantries…” he says, voice strained from the effort of keeping his eyes trained to your face, “but I’m really interested in hearing how it went with your husband this week.”

Interested is probably an understatement. Nanami had been reeling. He hadn’t felt such personable anger in a long, long time, but the sheer thought of your husband coercing you had his jaw already clenching.

You tense slightly, clearly not ready to jump right into it. Nanami’s chides himself inwardly for not easing you into the session better.

“Um…” you say after a big breath. Your heart begins to pound in your chest harshly, and you feel your skin prickle and flush. “Sorry— I’m just a bit nervous…” the words feel clunky coming out of your mouth.

Nanami’s face immediately shifts to a look of concern. He’s studied Gestalt counseling techniques, and just looking at your body language is sending him big red flags.

“Anxiety is normal, especially in a counseling environment,” he says calmly instantly relaxing his own body in hopes you’ll mirror him. When you don’t, he decides to go on. “What’s your body saying right now?”

You can’t meet his gaze. Your brain has decided he’s staring at you with judgement instead of empathy. Trying to shield yourself from him, you hug a throw pillow to your midsection.

“It’s saying I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

Now, Nanami’s heart is pounding as well — not with anger… Well, maybe some anger for whoever had instilled this response in you. Moreover, he’s anxious to get to the bottom of your anxiety.

“Okay…” he breathes out, trying to drag his mind back into therapist mode. “Why do you suspect I’d be mad at you?”

You continue to hug the pillow, closing your own eyes while you remember how it had went with your husband. “It’s hard to look at you right now…”

Nanami had never seen himself as an intimidating man. Sure, he was tall, standing over six feet, and he took good care of his physique. He knew his facial features were sharp, and on top of that, he kept himself cleanly groomed. His appearance was meticulous. He liked the routine of it, and it was one of the few things he could control.

“I can face away from you if you’d like. It may be easier to talk to me if I turn the other way.” He’s already standing, fully intending on turning his chair away from you, even if he’d miss seeing your pretty face.

You look up at him, and your eyes widen slightly as you see the lengths he was willing to go to make you feel comfortable. “Oh— You don’t have to..” you quickly say, not wanting him to make a fuss over you.

“I know,” he responds in a tone that causes your shoulders to drop. Since your last session, you had seemingly forgotten that Nanami wasn’t the enemy here.

“No, uh.. no need to move the furniture around… Why don’t you just sit on the couch next to me? We can face forward so it’ll be easier for me to talk to you,” you suggest nervously.

Nanami stops what he’s doing, and he glances at you carefully. There was more than enough room on the couch for him to comfortably sit next to you, and it wouldn’t be inappropriate. In fact, there had been plenty of times with other clients where he’d sit next to them. He would do so as an exercise for interpersonal skills or intimacy training.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” he responds, searching your face for any signs of hesitancy.

“I’m comfortable.” You nod in the affirmative. It was just sitting on the couch together. It’s not like you two were doing the devil’s tango.

After a few moments, Kento slides next to you on the couch. The cushion flexes as it is weighed down by him. He keeps his face toward his normal sitting chair and away from you.

He takes a deep breath, seemingly getting himself comfortable before restarting the session. “Good afternoon, Y/n. It’s nice to see you back in my office. Going back to our last session before we closed, I believe I sent you on your way with a bit of homework. Can you tell me how that went?”

“Good afternoon,” you greet him back, resisting the urge to look over at his face. “I did as we talked about last time with… enforcing boundaries and stuff..”

Your stomach does a cartwheel as Kento chooses not to speak. He allows silence to be his answer. He’s eagerly awaiting to hear how it went.

“Last Saturday— you probably don’t need to know the date. I’m sorry. — er, my husband asked if I was in the mood for sex that morning, and I told him that I wasn’t. During lunch, he kissed my neck and asked if I had changed my mind…” your voice trembles a bit, and you’re unsure as to why this is making you have such an emotional reaction. You didn’t have one on the day this happened, so why now? “I told him I was busy and I had errands to run… He walked away, but he asked again when I came back home. He said he was asking because he had a lot of yard work to do on Sunday, so if we didn’t have sex that day, then he’d have to wait until Monday.”

Nanami keeps up a poker face even while he’s seething in his seat. He can hear your voice tremble and every little sigh you make. How can your husband not see how much of a piece of work he is?

“Go on..” he calmly prompts you.

“So, I told him about how the repeated questions make me feel pressured and turn me off.” You run your fingers through your hair, subconsciously trying to soothe yourself before you got to the real meat of the story. “He asked me if I learned that in counseling, and he basically said counseling was a waste of time and money. He of course said it in a much more vibrant language, but that’s the gist of it.”

Nanami forced himself not to roll his eyes. Typical. Your husband was fine with you going to counseling when he thought it would benefit him. Now that he sees you forming independent thinking and using outside perspectives, he hates it.

“Is that why you thought I would be mad at you?” he asks, taking the chance to look over at your face.

You surprisingly return his gaze with a small nod. “He just said such mean things about you and sex therapy in general.”

“If anything, I am beyond proud of you. You stood up for yourself and didn’t waver.” Nanami gives you a warm smile that makes butterflies dance around in your stomach. He said it with such an earnest expression. You believe him. You made him proud.

But did you? “I… actually did end up giving in and having sex with him.”

Nanami’s adams apple bobs as he swallows down his reaction to that statement. Your piece of shit husband practically wore you down and bullied you into giving him what he wants, and the worst part was that you feel guilty as if you did something wrong.

“Did you want to have sex?”

Your hands rub at your eyes as you feel your resolve crumbling. “I just wanted to stop arguing. He finally agreed to drop it after we were done.”

This time, Kento can’t stop himself before he pulls you into his chest. His hands soothingly rub your hair as you fall apart in his embrace. He realizes in that moment that he’s so far beyond saving. In such a short period of time, you had found your way into his heart. He cares for you and not in the same way he cares for his other clients.

“You’re okay,” he softly whispers to you, and he adjusts himself on the couch so you can lean on him.

“I don’t know why I agreed,” you choke out. Hot tears are streaming from your eyes, and it feels like your air is being restricted. The only thing keeping you from really losing it is the rhythmic sound of Nanami’s heartbeat through his chest.

“Hey, none of that..” He scoops you further against him. Your bodies are completely touching, almost entangled together on the couch. His hand gently brush away the stray hairs stuck to your face. “It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself. Have you ever heard of false confessions?”

You slowly lean up from his chest, looking up at his face as he continues to pet your hair soothingly. “False confessions?”

He nods, giving you a small smile. “It’s a known phenomenon where those who are innocent of a crime falsely admit to doing it anyway. It usually happens as a result of coercive or unreasonably long interrogations from the police. It just goes to show that coercion is powerful. It makes us admit to things that we didn’t do, agree to things we don’t really want, do things that we don’t want…”

You prop your forehead back down on his chest. His cologne smells so enticing like cedar and musk. It’s a fully masculine scent that wraps you up in a tight cocoon, making you feel safe and protected. You know this position is wrong. You’re nearly straddling his lap at this point, and if your husband saw you like this…

The thought is enough to return back to your seat. You steal a couple of tissues to dry your eyes. "Just- things would be easier if I actually felt the drive to have sex. I haven't felt... well, um-" The word horny is lodged in your throat. It feels so scandalous to talk about such natural desires. "I haven't felt turned on in a while. I don't even know if I ovulate anymore."

Kento shifts upwards, dusting off his slacks as he returns to a sitting position. He already misses the feeling of you lying on him. He can smell your perfume lingering around him, and it causes goosebumps to raise on his arm. It's a carnal feeling — being so attracted to a scent.

"I think it's time we address that thought. What's your idea of intimacy?" he probes, and he tries not to file this information away for later. He shouldn't be using questions to get to know what makes you tick. This is suppose to be a path of self discovery, but Kento can't help but wonder. He imagines all the ways he could rile you up, satisfy you, keep you happy and doped up on love...

Your eyebrows furrow a bit as you glance over at your therapist, wondering if he was asking a trick question. "What do you mean? Surely I don't have to give you the birds and bees talk, Mr. Nanami. When two people love each other very much..."

He gives you a genuine grin and a small scoff of amusement. "Darling, if that's your idea of intimacy, we have a lot to work on..."

Taglist: @theuniversesnepobaby @airandyeah @aldebrana @pandabiene5115 @petrichorvzlia @stargirl-mayaa @simssssssss5 @des-todoroki @nevvynev @dysphxriaii @rjreins @sukunawhores @nanamin-chan @mullermilkshake @thelostkira @anuncalledbridge @elliehenry24 @williamafton26 @ambiguouslady42 @princesa-querida @nina-from-317 @musiclover2119 @zeunys @solemxly @v1x3en @seobinghard @sleepy-overdreamer @ryomenslvr @ilovechanyeol16 @sadbutbadxxsblog @00frenchfries00 @nanamin-chan @erenspersonalwh0re @ynackerman9499 @nina357 @sexylexy12 @mostly-sunshine @ginaluvsyou @pixeld0ll @solariaazz @fatcouchpotato @kgetou

[katseyeronic]

Gameboy

Gn!reader x Sorority!Daniela

summary: “One will always hurt more than the other person does.” Daniela rises to the top while you’re stuck at the bottom of the college chain. There was once a time where you two were the best of friends. Unsaid words, Unsaid feelings.

tags: angst (sorry..), Reader pining over Daniela, Curse words being thrown. Daniela lowkey being so mean. Complex!reader and Daniela. Flashbacks are in italics and bold!

a/n: first ever angst fic. scary i hope it lives up to the summary. Sorority Katseye truther over here :)

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

“We can do this… right?” Daniela muttered hesitantly leaning against your locker looking around. Second day of college and she’s already overthinking.

“For the sixth time today Dani, Yes! We have each other.” You laughed shaking your head. Did anyone tell her how endearing she looked with her nervous gaze around the school? It amazed her how you were so sure that they would always have each other.

Daniela’s top priority was popularity. What’s the fastest way to get to the top? Easy. Join a sorority, have sorority sisters and be at the top of the college chain. She would be set for her whole college experience. Her second priority was to enjoy college and all it has to offer. Grades came third.

If anyone were to ask you what your first priority would be, it would Daniela. The girl you’ve crushed on since you were young. The girl you would do anything for. Your second would probably be getting through college life without falling under anyone’s radar. Just the thought of it makes you feel sick. Thirdly, studies.

“I’m going to be one of those girls soon.” Dani promised to herself seeing Sophia Laforteza and her group of sorority girls walk by. You raised a brow.

“As long as you don’t change yourself Dani.” You shook your head pushing her slight to get to your locker. Dani scoffed as if the thought was absurd.

“I would never.”

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

If you had known how big of a liar she was that day, you would have called her out on her bullshit. God, how could you ever be so gullible to believe Daniela.

“We aren’t friends” Daniela said that day and the disgust on her face and in her tone almost made you throw up right then and there. How dare she erase years of your love and friendship.

Those words rang in your ears every time you two make eye contact. Right now was no different as your eyes briefly met Daniela’s during a class. You turned back to the class. Those weren’t your Dani’s eyes anymore.

“Y/n, you’re partnered up with Daniela.” Your body froze. No. The universe has to be playing some cruel joke on both of you. There was once a time both of you would have been happy to be partners. Not anymore.

Once class had ended, you rushed to your teacher’s desk. “Mr. Thompson, there has to be a mistake, I can’t work with Daniela and-“ He placed his hand up.

“There’s nothing I can do.” He muttered and you could almost laugh in his face. He did this on purpose. You grumbled walking out and seeing Daniela waiting outside for you.

“It’s almost flattering how much you’re despising working with me.” Daniela said with a cocky smirk. Is she mocking you? That’s insane. “I’ll come over tonight and we can set up the small stuff.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t even want to talk to her. You just simply nodded and walked off knowing she knew where you lived.

Walking with Lara, one of Daniela’s sorority sisters, you complained about everything considering she knew of the situation before she fully joined the house.

In all honesty, you never expected to get close with Lara yet somehow she slithered in picking up the pieces Daniela broke. Lara saw you for you and she never once judged it. She let you rant on how you never got to say the words you wanted to say to Daniela, what you would’ve done if you were to turn back time and she listened with open ears and arms.

You obviously never went to her house knowing Daniela would be there. She too never understood why Daniela denied being friends with you, It would have never jeopardised her spot in the sorority house.

“Yeah no, I think the universe is just out to get you.” Lara shrugged stifling a laugh as you told her how Daniela was coming over tonight and you haven’t necessarily told your mom that you two stopped being friends.

“Anyone told you how much of an ass you are?” You deadpanned as Lara gave you a small kiss on the cheek as an apology which quirked up a small smile. You felt eyes behind you but you shrugged it off. Probably one of the guys or girls ogling Lara again.

How wrong you were. Daniela was glaring at the small kiss Lara gave you on your cheek. That used to be her. Her glare softened when she realised that she had no one to blame but herself.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

When she first stepped foot into your house, she was shocked to be met with a hug from your mom. She thought your mom would have hated her but no. Here she was being hugged by your mom before dismissed to your room.

“I thought your mom would have hated me.” Daniela spoke up coming into your room and her eyes immediately landing on the frame on your bedside table. It was you and her, she was kissing your cheek, the same spot Lara did and you were closing your eyes with a small blush. You kept it.

“Didn’t tell her, didn’t want her to hate you.” And those words did it for her. She’d been an absolutely mean girl to you and you’re still thinking about her? She nodded briefly and you two got started on your work.

“You and Lara seem close.”

“She doesn’t hide her friendship with me.”

And all those shots were repetitive. One of you bringing something up while working and the other shooting back with their own snarky remark.

Everyday you two would work on it, slowly the tension fell and you had actually started to let your guard down slowly but surely. It didn’t have to mean anything but everyday the light in you dwindles down seeing Daniela ignore you again and again.

“I met this guy and-“ Yeah that did it for you. She met a guy and she’s telling you all about it like you two were actual friends? How pathetic can she be? It’s as if she got over the fact that she completely stopped being your friends just to rise to the top.

You didn’t want to say anything, you saw how happy she was rambling about it while you two worked on the finishing touches of the project but this bitter feeling in your chest was slowly rising.

“Good for you, Daniela.” You muttered half heartedly, eyes not looking at her but to your project instead. Leave it up to you to realise you still have feelings for Daniela Avanzini. She paused, looking at you, trying to decipher your thoughts. You used to be an open book to her and only her.

“You used to call me Dani.” Daniela said waiting for a reaction. Anything to show that you cared enough. “You used to care.”

“You used to want to be my best friend, Daniela. Things change. People change.” Your eyes met her and for the first time since you two stopped being friends, she saw how drained you looked. A stark contrast from how she looked.

She was genuinely happy. Her smile was brighter, her laughter brought people joy and yet it only brought you pain to hear how happy she was without you. “The sorority is having a party this weekend.” She invited subtly. “You should come.”

To you, it was a glimpse of hope. Your heart fluttered slightly. Was she not ashamed anymore? Did she want to be friends? To her however, it was nothing but pity, hoping that you can get out there and meet new friends. She wanted you to move on like she has.

“I’ll come.”

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───

Coming to the party was your biggest regret, immediately you felt out of place. This was what she wanted? A whole area of people drinking, sweat. Disgusting.

“You came! Oh my god it took me months to convince you and Dani only had to spend a day with you?” Lara grinned hugging you and passing you a drink immediately. You forced a small smile ignoring how people call Daniela, Dani. That used to only be you calling her that.

While Lara rambled on about some girl, you looked at the dance floor seeing Daniela dance. Making eye contact with her, she didnt move her gaze away while you stared at her. The dance was sultry. Does she know what she’s doing to you?

And then you see it, that one thing that made you realise, she knew about your feelings all along. That smirk. She smirked like she was proud of always stringing you along.

Holy shit. This was always a game to her. Since the start, she had managed to give you just enough to still have feelings but never enough to think she wants anything more.

Those eye contacts she did, those small smiles, the bumping into each other. You had thought they were all mockery, bullying. Anything. You never once thought it would be a subtle claim. A reminder of the hold she has on your heart and oh she is squeezing that heart enough that it hurts but never till it breaks. A reminder that she exists.

“Hey are you listening?” Lara asked concerned etched on her face, you broke eye contact and looked at her. “I need air.” You mutter running outside for air. What the actual fuck? It was a game and she was the game master. You were the puppet.

“Hey? You left so abruptly and Lara didn’t know when I asked, are you okay?” Daniela appeared touching your shoulder and for the first time ever, you flinched from her touch.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spat looking at her with tear filled eyes. “This was all a game to you. You knew about my feelings! You knew and Oh my God! Why was I so stupid?” You paced and Daniela’s eyes turned sharp. Oh fuck.

“Everyone knew.” Daniela confirmed softly watching as your gaze turned to her in disbelief. “You were pathetic with it.”

“Go to hell, Daniela.” You chuckled bitterly. This was never your Dani. Since the day you stepped into college, Dani was gone and replaced her was Daniela. “I loved you.”

“You still do.” Daniela said like it was a known fact and you almost wanted to smack that smirk off her face. How was this not hurting her too? Maybe it was. No one really knew except Daniela. She hesitated, not knowing if she should say something. “I loved you too.”

For once, you didn’t know if she was lying to pull you back in or not. You looked at her and all you saw was a stone cold expression. She was probably lying right? “You’re so fucking manipulative.” You shook your head walking off.

“You were easy to manipulate!” Daniela yelled out as she saw you walk off. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to get you to fight with her. To stay for once but you took it as her being far too gone to be saved so you continued walking. This time never looking back. This might have been a game to her but oh it was everything to you.

You didn’t turn back, you wanted to but you couldn’t. You needed this ounce of self respect to walk off and never talk to her again but if you had just turned, you would see a glimpse of Dani. a glimpse of a tear falling before she wiped it off quick. You would see her shoulders slumping like she was drained too.

But why would you? The two of you only cared about your own feeling. Too hurt to see past each other’s pain. She levelled up and you? you had quit the game. A game you never signed up for and a game she was unaware she had subconsciously made.

Congratulations, Both of you lost.

Would you like to restart from the beginning or continue on?

[punksyeet]

- reflection in the puddles <3

plot: rainstorms and cookies made by a (self proclaimed) baker boyfriend. who could ask for more?

warnings: just fluff this time ᯓᡣ𐭩

A/N: a little short and sweet nothing inspired by the thunderstorm we had today. went with a simple layout too to really set the mood hehe. enjoy! 🩶

———————————————————————————————

i love rainstorms.

i have ever since i was a little girl.

the pitter patter sound that the raindrops make on the roof, the occasional rumbles of thunder, even the fresh, earthy smell afterwards.

it’s always brought me so much peace.

i had one of those sit-by windows growing up - the ones with the built in cushion.

every time it rained, i’d grab the matching strawberry shortcake blanket and pillows from my bed, and simply lay there for hours until the storm passed.

sometimes even fall asleep.

never failing to dream about becoming a princess, my prince and i laughing and dancing in the rain.

god, it was my favorite thing in the world.

and here i am, over twenty years later, sat on the front porch of my home.

not quite laid near the window, but sat under an awning instead.

i like to think it’s the same experience i had as a little girl, only the grown up version.

“whatchu doin out here, girl?” i hear my boyfriend, jimmy, ask shortly after the front door opens and closes.

“enjoying the rain,” i reply softly, not looking back, but instead watching a puddle formed on the concrete.

the droplets of water repeatedly fall into it, causing numerous ripples. almost like a speaker playing music on full blast.

i hear him chuckle lightly and, shortly after, feel his warm hands softly rub my shoulders.

“i ain’t never met someone that loves rain as much as you mama,” he exclaims.

i smile to myself, leaning into his touch. “how could you not, jim? it’s beautiful.”

“sure is,” he replies, pushing my thick curls to the side.

“ain’t nowhere near as beautiful as you though,” he whispers right below my ear, planting a few kisses there afterwards.

i roll my eyes playfully, turning my head to meet his gorgeous face. “did you ruin my peace just to flirt with me, sir?”

he smirks and stands back up, reaching over to the tiny table that we have sat next to the door.

“and to bring you these,” he announces, holding out a plate full of scrumptious looking chocolate chip cookies. “freshly baked by your favorite baker in the world.”

“don’t mind if i do mister baker,” i tease, grabbing one and immediately taking a bite.

he smiles, watching me with hopeful eyes.

“very yummy baby,” i continue moments later, wrapping my free arm around his waist and looking up at him. “thank you.”

his smile widens as he reaches down and takes my chin softly, placing his lips on mine for a quick peck.

he licks his lips when we pull away and hums in approval. “mm! they are good.”

i suck my teeth and playfully shove his arm, earning a chuckle from him.

“mind if i join you, pretty lady?” he asks, grabbing a cookie himself and setting the plate back down.

i shake my head, scooting over while taking another bite.

he plops down gently, throwing an arm over my shoulders.

i lean into his touch and lay my head on his chest.

little me would be so happy to know that she finally met her prince. <3

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[neellscapsule]

wayne's secretary

summary | working as bruce wayne's secretary was never an easy job, specially when you're terribly in love with him and he doesn't dare look back. 

pairing | bruce wayne x kent!reader

warnings / tags | most fluffy, some angst, neglected feelings because reader thinks bruce doesn't see her as she sees him BUT HE DOES!!!he is just simply too much of a fool so we can add hurt/comfort

word count | 5.6k

authors note | hi there!! english is not my first languaje so there might be some mistakes, or not, it can depend :)

this is part of the kent!batmom!reader series. you don't need to read the other parts to understand this since this is about bruce and batmom's past. 

BEING BRUCE WAYNE’S SECRETARY ISN’T FOR THE WEAK.

You figured that out about three hours into your first day on the job. You’d walked into the sleek, glass-walled office on the 40th floor of Wayne Enterprises with your little notebook clutched in your hands, fresh off the Kent Farm and still smelling faintly of hay and sunscreen, heart pounding in your chest like a scared rabbit. You’d been prepared for a challenge. You hadn’t been prepared for Bruce Wayne.

The tabloids don’t do him justice.

Sure, they get the broad strokes right. Tall. Ridiculously good-looking. Billionaire. Occasionally seen with models or philanthropists or both on his arm. But they miss the quiet intensity that follows him into every room like a storm cloud, the way his blue eyes could pin you in place with one look, or how his voice, deep and smooth like whiskey, can make your stomach twist in knots even when he’s just telling you to rearrange his schedule for the fifth time that morning.

Actually, it’s a brutal, gladiatorial occupation requiring the patience of a saint, the multitasking ability of a NASA mission control operator, and the emotional resilience of someone who doesn’t cry when a perfectly good apple pie burns.

You are not that someone.

But you try. Lord, do you try.

You’re not sure if it’s the Kent in you or the catastrophic crush you’ve been carefully tending to like a forbidden summer bloom, but you don’t give up. No. You set your alarm for 5:00 AM every day, you iron your skirts and blouses the night before, and you march into Wayne Enterprises with a to-go cup of black coffee that could wake the dead. 

You take his calls. You reschedule meetings when Bruce inevitably disappears—out for “personal reasons” that you’re not allowed to question. You politely field phone calls from ex-lovers who think they can just waltz back into his life. You smile through tight teeth when angry supermodels demand an audience with “Brucie.”

“Miss Kent.” His voice cuts through your daydreams as you fumble with the office phone. You curse under your breath—quietly, because you’re still a Kent and Ma raised you better—before turning toward him.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” You push your chair back, notebook ready, pen poised like a weapon of mild administrative warfare.

Bruce glances at the clock on the wall. He’s wearing one of those immaculate, tailored charcoal suits that probably cost more than your entire apartment.

“There’s a board meeting at noon. I need the quarterly reports from R\&D printed and summarized.” He pauses, eyes narrowing just slightly. “And cancel lunch with Veronica.”

Veronica. Right. The supermodel. One of the many.

You nod, scribbling it down. “Of course.”

His gaze lingers for a second longer than necessary, unreadable, before he turns and retreats to his office, the door shutting with a soft click. You exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the familiar ache settling in your chest.

Because Bruce Wayne doesn’t see you.

Not really. Not the way you see him. He sees a secretary. Efficient. Professional. The girl from Kansas with a polite smile and too many pens in her purse. Meanwhile, you see him—the man behind the Gotham mask, sharp-edged and distant, carrying the weight of an entire city on his shoulders.

And you’re in love with him.

Hopelessly, stupidly, painfully in love.

It’s not ideal.

This is fine. Totally fine. This is the job.

Sure, he makes you take calls from the kinds of women who have their own perfume ads and the press on speed dial, but that’s fine. Sure, he makes you memorize his calendar like your life depends on it, but fine. Sure, sometimes he leaves you with half his workload and the other half of his headaches, but fine.

You didn’t move to Gotham to have a soft, easy life. You moved here because a friend had recommended you and you needed the job, even if your parents were more than happy to let you live on the farm. At first, it was very difficult.

Renting an apartment had been the worst part. Gotham wasn't anything like Smallville, or even Metropolis, where your brother lived. Much more dangerous and dark, but just as beautiful. So, you'd ended up in a moderately affordable building with a small balcony that you'd filled with plants.

And not to mention how the people there weren't even a third as polite. How they gave you weird looks whenever you mumbled a "sir" or a polite "ma'am," but that could also have been because the Kansas accent had become so engrained in you, refusing to leave.

But you’d gotten good at reading Bruce. You had to. He was many things—Gotham’s most eligible bachelor, impossible perfectionist, a certified menace to your daily stress levels—but predictable in his routines. You’d memorized the way his brow twitched when a board member droned on too long, the faint edge in his voice when he asked you to "reschedule" a dinner with some socialite (which always meant cancel entirely), and the carefully contained glances he cast your way when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

Of course, maybe that last part was just your imagination.

Because if Bruce Wayne actually looked at you the way you looked at him, well… you'd probably combust right there behind your tidy little desk outside his office.

But no. You were just his secretary. The secretary with a too-big crush, a closet full of pretty, neatly pressed dresses, and a last name that carried weight only in your home place.

“Y/N?”

His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, rich and low and way too dangerous for this early in the morning. You looked up, startled to find him standing in front of your desk, broad-shouldered and devastating handsome.

You tried not to let your eyes linger on the cut of his jaw or the perfect, infuriating way his dark hair fell over his brow.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. You never called him that unless you were flustered—or hiding something.

“The schedule for today?” he prompted.

Right. His schedule. You were supposed to be a professional. You snatched the leather-bound planner off your desk and opened it with practiced precision.

“You have a ten o’clock with Lucius Fox, followed by a board meeting at eleven. Lunch is with Mr. Park from the GCPD charity board—”

“Cancel lunch.”

You blinked. “But—”

“Park only scheduled it to pitch more PR appearances. I’m not interested.”

You hesitated. “Should I tell him you’re busy or—”

“Tell him I’m unavailable. If he presses, tell him I’m allergic to public relations.”

Despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. Bruce caught it, the faintest glint of amusement flickering in his eyes before it vanished behind that familiar, stoic mask.

“And tonight,” you continued, clearing your throat, “there’s the Wayne Gala.”

His expression didn’t change, but you swore you caught a flicker of resignation in his gaze.

“You’re still attending, right?” you asked, fighting the urge to fidget with your pen.

Bruce’s eyes settled on you in that way that made your heart stutter—steady, intense, unreadable.

“Are you attending?” he countered, voice deceptively neutral.

You frowned, momentarily thrown. “I… well, I wasn’t invited.”

“You’re my secretary.”

“Technically, yes, but—”

“You organized the entire event.”

You ducked your head, heat creeping into your cheeks. “I just coordinated. It’s not the same.”

His jaw flexed, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But then, without warning, he leaned down, palm braced against your desk, invading your personal space just enough to short-circuit your brain.

“Be there,” he said simply, voice low and final.

Your throat went dry. “O-Okay.”

He straightened, adjusted his cufflinks, and walked back into his office, leaving you staring after him like a lovesick idiot.

But here’s the thing.

He does see you.

Bruce Wayne notices everything.

The way you hum when you’re overwhelmed with scheduling requests. How you bring a spare cup of coffee to your desk at exactly 9:15, just in case he needs it. The worn denim jacket from Smallville you sometimes forget on the back of your chair. How your smile never quite reaches your eyes sometimes.

You think he doesn’t care.

But he does.

He cares more than he should.

Because for the first time in years, he finds himself looking forward to Monday mornings. To your quiet, determined voice filtering through the intercom. To your handwriting on his notes. 

But he’s a fool.

A coward.

And so he stays quiet.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of phone calls, emails, and one very aggressive supermodel threatening to “storm the building” if Bruce didn’t return her messages. You handled it, like always, smiling politely, making apologies, and filing it away as just another day in the impossible life of Bruce Wayne’s secretary.

But tonight—the gala—it was different.

The Kent in you was screaming this is a bad idea. Smallville had taught you to keep your feet on the ground, your head clear, and your heart safe.

But Gotham had other plans.

By the time you arrived at Wayne Manor, you felt wildly underdressed, even in your nicest gown—soft blue satin that hugged your figure and made your eyes stand out in the dim light. The manor buzzed with the city’s elite: sharp suits, glittering dresses, whispered gossip trailing behind every conversation.

The party swirled around you like a glittering storm of perfume, champagne, and barely concealed arrogance. You sipped at your glass, nerves humming just beneath your skin, but you stayed grounded. For now.

Until you saw her.

Bruce stood across the room near the grand staircase, his expression cool, unreadable—but beside him, clinging to his arm like a designer handbag, was a woman you couldn’t tear your eyes away from.

Tall. Blonde. Sun-kissed skin that practically glowed under the chandelier light. Her gown shimmered in the low light, the cut sleek and expensive. She was the kind of woman that belonged in Bruce Wayne’s world. The kind that laughed easily at whispered jokes, who made socialites stare with jealousy and men stare with want. She tilted her head, smiling at him with practiced charm, a hand lightly resting on his chest as she spoke.

And Bruce—he’s not brushing her off. He’s not pulling away. He’s standing there, listening, patient, polite. His expression is carefully neutral, but you know him. You’ve studied him like a language, and you see it—the tiny flicker of amusement when she says something clever, the faint dip of his head when she leans in.

Your heart sank like a stone tossed into deep water.

You looked away, swallowing the bitter ache rising in your throat. Of course. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him with women before. Supermodels. Heiresses. Gotham’s elite tripping over themselves for a chance to stand where she stood now.

You set your glass down with more force than necessary, turning on your heel before your emotions betrayed you. The last thing you needed was to cry into your free bar champagne.

The room blurred as you weaved through the crowd, determined to find some breathing space, anywhere but here.

That’s when you found the bar—and her.

A woman leaned casually against the polished counter, swirling amber liquid in her glass with delicate fingers. Her short black hair framed her face in soft waves, dark as ink, contrasting beautifully with lightly tanned skin and sharp, green eyes that glittered with curiosity as she noticed you approach.

The bartender barely had time to greet you before the woman spoke first, voice smooth and low, with a teasing edge that wrapped around you like silk.

“Well, aren’t you just a breath of fresh air?”

You blinked, momentarily startled. “I… what?”

She smiled, slow and warm, like she was entirely unbothered by the sharp edges of this world. “You look like you wandered in from somewhere far, far away.” Her gaze drifted down your frame, lingering on your still-slightly-flushed cheeks and the soft blue satin of your gown. “Somewhere real.”

A small laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “Smallville, actually.”

Her lips curved in amusement. “Figures.”

You slid onto the stool beside her, grateful for the unexpected reprieve from your spiraling thoughts.

“I’m Selina,” she offered, raising her glass. “Selina Kyle.”

“Y/N,” you replied, smiling despite yourself.

Selina’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Pretty name. Pretty girl. What’s your excuse for looking like you’d rather be anywhere else?”

You hesitated, tempted to brush it off, but something about her—maybe it was the friendly smirk or the purring warmth in her voice—made it easy to be honest.

“I work for Mr. Wayne,” you admitted, fiddling with your bracelet. “Secretary. Calendar wrangler. Human voicemail inbox.”

Selina’s expression morphed into something wickedly teasing. “That explains the heartbreak face.”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s not… I mean, I—”

“Relax, sweetheart.” She waved a hand dismissively. “You’re not the first, and I’m guessing you won’t be the last.”

You groaned softly, burying your face in your hands. “Is it that obvious?”

Selina chuckled, the sound light and unjudging. “Only to someone who’s been there. You’ve got the look.” She took a sip of her drink, eyes softening. “Trust me, men like Bruce? They notice more than they let on.”

You lifted your head, doubtful. “Not him. He’s…” You sighed. “He’s different.”

Her smirk widened like she knew a secret you didn’t. “Aren’t they all?”

Despite the ache still clinging to your chest, her flirty, easy confidence soothed some of the sting. You chatted for a little while longer—about Gotham’s ridiculous social scene, expensive shoes, and how impossible it was to find decent coffee in this city. Slowly, the tightness in your chest loosened, replaced by the quiet comfort of unexpected companionship.

But happiness in Gotham never lasted long.

The collision was entirely accidental. You’d been making your way through the crowd again, half-lost in thought, when it happened.

The champagne flutes on her hand dangerously, and one tips, spilling its fizzy, golden contents all over the front of your dress. The cold is immediate, sharp against your skin, seeping through the delicate fabric and turning the soft blue satin dark and sticky.

You gasp, instinctively reaching for a napkin, already sputtering out apologies.

“I’m so sorry, I—”

But the woman’s gaze sweeps over you like you’re something stuck to her shoe. She’s impeccably dressed—pearls, tailored silk, not a hair out of place—and her expression drips with disdain.

“You should watch where you’re going,” she snaps, her voice clipped, precise, and cruelly condescending. “Clearly, you’re not used to being at events like this.”

“I—um—I didn’t mean—”

“Obviously not,” she cuts in, eyes raking over your soaked dress with thinly veiled disgust. “But what can you expect from… assistants.”

Something ugly twists in your stomach. It’s not even the words—it’s the way she says it. Like you’re beneath her. Like you’re a stain on the carpet. And worst of all, she’s not the first to think it.

You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes burning.

“Excuse me,” you whisper, your voice barely steady.

You turn sharply and flee, weaving through the glittering guests, past chandeliers and waiters and couples who don’t notice you’re unraveling. You burst through the manor doors and into the night, the rain hitting you like cold glass.

The sky is heavy, dark, and pouring, but you barely feel it over the ache in your chest, the humiliation clawing up your throat. You raise your hand, waving desperately until a cab finally screeches to a stop, and you slide inside, your soaked dress clinging to your skin, your heart pounding wildly.

“Address?” the cabbie grunts.

You rattle it off quickly, voice thick with tears you refuse to let fall—not here, not yet.

The ride home blurred past the rain-streaked window. By the time you reached your small apartment, your teeth chattered and your heart ached with embarrassment so sharp it made your chest physically hurt.

Inside, you stripped out of the soaked gown, trembling hands fumbling with the fabric. The champagne stain spread across the satin, stubborn and taunting.

Warm pajamas—fleece, oversized, impossibly soft—helped, but not enough to quiet the storm inside you. You sat on the floor by the sink, the dress clutched in your lap, damp with tears as you scrubbed at the stain in vain.

The first sob broke free quietly, and then another, until your shoulders shook, and you pressed your forehead to your knees.

Your phone buzzed on the counter. You ignored it at first, but when it buzzed again—your mother’s name lighting up the screen—your resolve crumbled.

You swipe to answer, voice trembling. “Hey, ma.”

Her voice wraps around you like a quilt. “Hi, sweetheart. Thought I’d check on you. You were on my mind tonight.”

You swallow, the knot in your throat threatening to choke you. “It was a long night.”

“Tell me.”

So you do. You tell her about the gala, about the pretty blonde, about the woman who made you feel small, about the rain and the taxi and the stupid, ruined dress.

Ma listens to every word, soft murmurs of comfort filling the quiet between your sobs.

“Oh, honey,” she says finally, her voice tender and steady, like home. “You know what I always told you. People can only make you feel small if you let them.”

“I know,” you whisper, curling into yourself. “But sometimes it’s hard not to.”

“I know it is. But you’re a Kent, sugar. You’ve got more heart than that whole city combined. Don’t let some snooty woman take that from you.”

You sniff, wiping at your eyes. “The dress is probably ruined.”

“Clothes can be replaced. My girl can’t.”

Your chest aches, but the edges start to soften.

“And besides,” Ma continues gently, “the year’s almost done. Christmas is right around the corner. Why don’t you come home for a bit? We’ll put you to work on the farm. Your father's been asking when he’ll see you next.”

You smile faintly, the image of the old farmhouse glowing warmly in your mind. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Come home, baby,” she said softly. “For as long as you want.”

“Okay,” you whispered, the exhaustion catching up to you. “I’ll come home.”

And for the first time that night, you let yourself breathe.

Until a loud, metallic noise startles you.

“What was that?” your mother’s voice crackled through the tiny speaker, concern lacing her words even from miles away.

You stood frozen in your living room, heart lurching up to your throat. It had come from the balcony. Something heavy. Something… metallic? The rain outside still battered against the glass, wind howling like it was personally offended.

“Probably… the wind,” you tried to sound calm, but your voice wobbled.

“Wind doesn’t sound like that, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t exactly argue.

Your eyes darted around your modest apartment, landing on the first potential weapon in sight—the old, battered broom leaning against the kitchen wall. It wasn’t exactly an impressive choice, but it was better than facing Gotham’s nightlife with bare hands.

“Ma, I gotta go,” you whispered, grabbing the broom in a white-knuckled grip.

“Y/N—”

“Love you,” you interrupted softly, already creeping toward the balcony. “Kiss Pa for me.”

You hung up, slipping the phone onto the counter, broom clutched like a sword as you edged toward the sliding balcony door. Peeking through the glass, your eyes narrowed in confusion. The balcony was dark, but even with the rain streaking the glass, you could make out a broad shape slumped among your poor, potted plants. Your gaze sharpened.

A man?

His cape—or was that a coat?—dragged heavily on the soaked ground, the fabric clinging to his frame. The dim city light caught the unmistakable shape of pointed ears rising from the silhouette of his cowl. Unmoving except for the faint, labored rise and fall of his chest. His shoulders sagged slightly, like they were carrying the weight of the world—or at least tonight’s injuries.

A bat mask. A symbol that had been plastered all over Gotham’s tabloids for months now.

The Batman.

Your eyes widened. "Oh my God…”

Your pulse thudded against your ribs, nerves tangled with curiosity. He wasn’t threatening, not like this. He looked… exhausted. Slumped awkwardly on one side, one gloved hand bracing against the floor as if trying—and failing—to push himself upright.

The other hand pressed tightly to his torso. Even in the dim light, you could see dark, wet streaks staining his suit.

Blood.

The logical part of your brain reminded you: he beats up criminals, not civilians. You were safe… mostly. Still, your fingers tightened around the broom handle, and—against all better judgment—you poked him lightly in the side with the bristles.

“Uh… hey,” you called softly, voice higher than usual. “You okay there, big guy?”

There was a beat of silence. Then, his head tilted up, and even behind the intimidating mask, you could feel the weight of his stare settle on you.

The intensity made you freeze for a heartbeat—but you noticed the tension in his shoulders loosen, just slightly. He wasn’t here to hurt you.

The Batman—Gotham’s Batman—was hurt. And… on your balcony.

This city was ridiculous.

You lowered the broom slightly, heart racing. “Are you… gonna pass out? Or… need help?”

His breathing was heavy beneath the mask, but after a pause, he managed a rough, gravel-edged reply. “Help… would be… good.”

You hesitated only a second longer before setting the broom aside. The Kent in you—years of patching up scraped knees, stubborn farm injuries, and now your brother’s occasional “training bruises”—kicked in.

“Alright, c’mon,” you muttered, slipping your arm under his. “Let’s get you inside before you drown out here.”

It took effort, but between his stubbornness and your determination, you managed to half-guide, half-drag him inside. Rainwater dripped from his cape and suit, puddling onto your floor. Your poor couch squelched as he collapsed onto it with a heavy, pained grunt.

You grimaced. “Okay, we’ll… deal with the couch later.”

First aid. You needed the first aid kit.

You grabbed the small, dented metal box from the kitchen cabinet, snapping it open to see what was inside. It wasn’t exactly stocked for vigilante wounds, but it would have to do. 

You returned to the living room, dropping the kit beside him and kneeling at his side, crossing your legs beneath you. Your gaze flicked over him—his gloves were off now, discarded on your coffee table, his bare hands braced on his thighs.

But it wasn’t his hands that worried you.

The blood staining his side caught your attention—the dark smear spreading across his suit, seeping from beneath the armored plates.

Your fingers hovered uncertainly.

“Hey… uh, I’m gonna help you, alright?” Your voice was soft but steady. “But I can’t get to that with all… this.”

Your hand gestured vaguely toward the torso section of his suit.

For a long, tense moment, he didn’t move. The air between you thickened with unspoken questions. Then, finally, with slow, methodical movements, he reached up, fingers finding the subtle seams at the sides of his suit.

The chest armor loosened, peeling away to reveal scarred, marked skin beneath.

Your breath hitched.

Broad, muscular, every inch of him screamed strength and experience—the kind of body molded by years of brutal training and hard-earned scars. Bruises bloomed across his ribs in shades of deep purple and blue, some old, some alarmingly fresh. A shallow gash bled sluggishly along his side, the likely source of the stain.

Professional. Be professional, you scolded yourself.

“This’ll probably sting,” you warned, voice quiet.

Grabbing gauze and antiseptic, you began to clean the wound with careful, practiced hands.

As you dabbed carefully at the wound, the alcohol making him hiss softly through gritted teeth, you fought to keep your hands steady.

He remained silent for several beats, watching you with unreadable eyes beneath the shadow of his cowl. Then, his voice rumbled low, unexpectedly cutting through the quiet.

“You’ve been crying.”

Your hands stilled.

You didn’t meet his gaze immediately, focusing instead on dabbing antiseptic along the edges of the gash.

“Sharp observation,” you replied lightly, but your voice betrayed you—soft, shaky, raw around the edges.

His eyes softened—barely noticeable, but there.

“Why?”

The question hung between you, heavy and sincere. No judgment. No mocking curiosity. Just… quiet concern.

You hesitated, biting your lower lip as you worked. The gauze wrapped around his torso with steady, if slightly trembling, fingers.

“A party,” you admitted finally, taping the bandage in place. “Someone ruined my dress. Said I didn’t belong.”

His eyes never left yours.

“Gala?”

You nodded, the corner of your mouth twitching bitterly. “Wayne Gala.”

The words hung between you for a second, quiet, but not empty.

Batman’s eyes narrowed just slightly. There was a flicker of something beneath the surface.

“Did something happen there?” His voice stayed low, that smooth, rasping tone that carried authority, but there was an edge of something softer to it now. Less like the Batman of headlines. More… human.

You shrugged lightly, returning your attention to the emergency kit as you began packing away the supplies, the soft rattle of gauze and bandages filling the space between your words.

“Nothing unusual for a Wayne party,” you replied, trying to sound dismissive, but your voice caught just a little. You could still feel the sting of that woman’s words clinging to you like smoke. “Fancy people with expensive shoes and sharper tongues. That’s Gotham.”

His gaze didn’t waver, even as you busied your hands. “Someone upset you.”

It wasn’t a question. You hated how easily he saw through you. You pressed your lips together, not looking at him as you spoke.

“It’s not a big deal,” you lied. “Just some socialite who thinks anyone without a trust fund shouldn’t breathe the same air as them.”

A pause. You risked a glance at him.

The corners of his mouth tightened, and even though the mask covered most of his face, you could feel the disapproval radiating off him. Not at you—but at the situation. At whoever had made you feel small tonight.

“You don’t believe that, do you?” His voice was quieter now, laced with a firm, grounded certainty that sent a shiver down your spine.

You shrugged again, this time weaker. “Doesn’t really matter what I believe. You’ve seen the crowd Bruce Wayne runs with.” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully, eyes drifting to his injured side before flickering back up. “People like me… we don’t fit.”

His jaw flexed. “People like you?”

You let out a quiet, breathy laugh, shaking your head. “Small-town girl with a Metropolis zip code. A Kent. I grew up feeding cows and fixing fences. The fanciest thing I owned back home was a Sunday dress from Sears.” You pulled the blanket around your legs a little tighter, voice dropping with vulnerability you couldn’t quite hide. “Now I answer phones for the richest man in Gotham and try not to drown in places I clearly don’t belong.”

The silence stretched after your confession, heavy but not uncomfortable. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected.

“You belong,” he said simply, like it was fact—not up for debate. “Don’t let people like that convince you otherwise.”

Your eyes snapped to his, startled by the quiet sincerity behind the words. The shadows softened him for a moment, the harsh lines of the cowl blending into the dim light, but the conviction in his voice stayed.

You exhaled, some of the tightness in your chest easing. “You’re not what I expected, y’know.”

He tilted his head slightly, curious. “No?”

You smiled faintly, relaxing into the couch’s armrest. “All those stories… newspapers, rumors. You’re supposed to be this terrifying, ruthless vigilante. Gotham’s monster in the shadows.” Your eyes traced over him—tired, soaked, bruised. “But you’re… different.”

He let out a low sound that might’ve been the ghost of a chuckle. It was rough, brief, but real.

“I can be terrifying,” he teased, and for the first time tonight, the tension in your apartment cracked just a little, warmth slipping in through the cracks.

Your smile widened despite yourself. “I’ll believe it when you stop bleeding all over my floor.”

His mouth quirked again, the expression faint but not entirely hidden.

A beat of silence passed, comfortable now. The rain outside tapped steadily against the glass doors, a constant hum filling the space.

Then, he shifted slightly, his broad shoulders easing back against the couch, some of the tension bleeding from his posture. His hand pressed lightly to the gauze at his side, checking your handiwork.

“You’ve done this before,” he observed, his gaze drifting over the neatly wrapped bandage.

“Farm,” you answered simply. “Kent household is a masterclass in minor medical emergencies.” You gestured vaguely. “Cuts, scrapes, falling off tractors… patching up stubborn men.”

The corner of his mouth tugged, and your heart did a small, traitorous flip at the sight.

“You handle this better than most,” he admitted quietly.

You arched a brow, teasing. “What, bleeding strangers collapsing on my balcony? Sure, happens all the time.”

“Could’ve called the cops,” he pointed out, watching you closely.

You shrugged, voice light but sincere. “Didn’t think they’d patch you up.”

Another pause. His eyes never left you.

“And… you believe I’m not here to hurt you?”

It was a serious question, but you smiled softly, warmth creeping into your expression as you leaned in, resting your chin on your hand.

“I don’t think you’d let me shove a broom at you if you were the type to hurt civilians,” you teased. Then, softer, “Besides… you save people.”

His eyes darkened with something unreadable, but not dangerous. He didn’t deny it.

You hesitated, then added quietly, “I’ve seen the news. You stop muggings. Get kids out of danger. You might scare the criminals… but you help people.”

The admission settled in the air between you, thick with quiet honesty.

“You’ve been watching me,” he noted.

You rolled your eyes. “Everyone’s been watching you.”

His gaze was sharp, steady—watchful even in exhaustion.

“Y’know,” you began, your voice breaking the quiet, “I didn’t exactly picture my Saturday night ending like this.”

A brow under the cowl arched faintly. His lips twitched—barely—but you caught it.

“Unexpected house guests are common in Gotham?” he asked, voice low, rough, that rasp unmistakable even softened by fatigue.

You shrugged lightly. “Usually it’s angry or drunk neighbors, not six-foot-something vigilantes falling on my plants.”

His eyes drifted toward the balcony door, lingering on the flattened pots, the shattered ceramic.

“Apologies for the casualties,” he muttered.

You smiled despite yourself. “They were on borrowed time anyway. This city’s got terrible sunlight.”

A quiet hum left him, almost a huff of amusement if you were being generous.

You watched him for a moment longer, curiosity outweighing caution now that the shock had settled. His broad frame was hunched slightly, weight shifted to one side to avoid putting pressure on the bandaged gash. The blanket draped awkwardly over his shoulders, the edges damp but slowly drying from the apartment’s warmth.

For a man built like a walking warning sign, he looked oddly… human.

“Is this… normal for you?” you asked carefully. “The whole ‘bleeding on strangers’ furniture’ thing?”

“Occupational hazard,” he replied simply.

You tilted your head, biting back a grin. “Danger pay included?”

His eyes slid back to yours, sharp as glass. “Wouldn’t recommend the career path.”

“I wasn’t exactly planning to join,” you teased, your fingers absently tugging at a loose thread on your pajama pants. “I think I’m barely surviving my current job.”

A pause.

“You work for Wayne,” he stated again, the certainty in his voice settling over the room like fog.

You exhaled a soft laugh. “You’ve got an impressive memory for someone half-delirious on my couch.”

His head tilted faintly, studying you. “It’s… noticeable.”

“What is?” you prompted, curiosity peeking through.

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes lingered on you, unreadable under the shadowed mask. You waited, letting the silence stretch, expecting him to evade the question entirely.

But instead, his voice came quiet. Honest.

“You stand out,” he admitted.

You looked at him then, surprised by the sincerity tucked between the words. You swallowed, wetting your lips, forcing your eyes down to your hands to keep from staring, and, instead, you shifted topics, easing the tension.

“Bet this isn’t your first run-in with Gotham rooftops.”

His lips quirked faintly. “Rooftops, alleys, warehouses… name it.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “That’s one way to see the city.”

“Best way,” he replied simply.

“Define ‘best’,” you teased, your tone soft, lightening the mood.

A pause. His eyes lingered on you, thoughtful.

“Most honest,” he answered.

You smiled faintly, leaning back against the couch. “Guess you’d hate my job then.”

“Secretary?” His brow arched. “Nothing honest about it?”

You laughed softly. “Depends who you’re working for.”

A longer pause this time.

“And Bruce Wayne?” he prompted carefully. “What’s the verdict?”

You hesitated, pulse tripping unexpectedly. Careful. Careful.

“He’s…” You chose your words, fingers twisting your pajama sleeve. “Complicated.”

His eyes narrowed faintly, curious.

“Most days, I think he’s impossible,” you admitted, your voice quiet now, honest in a way you hadn’t planned. “He’s cold, distant… expects everything and says almost nothing.”

“And the other days?”

You smiled to yourself, gaze drifting to the rain-slick windows. “The other days, I think… maybe he’s just lost. Or tired. Or carrying more than he lets anyone see.”

The silence that followed was thick. Heavy. You could feel his eyes on you, steady, lingering.

Finally, his voice cut through the quiet again—rough, softer now.

“People notice more than you think.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t elaborate, only watched you with that same unreadable intensity, shadows curling at the edges of his expression.

The room settled into quiet again. The rain softened, tapping faintly against the glass.

And that’s when your gaze shifted—sliding down the sharp slope of his cheekbone, the curve of his jaw.

Strong. Defined. Familiar in a way that made your stomach twist with quiet realization.

Your eyes lingered on his mouth—lips you’d seen pressed into faint, disapproving lines during board meetings, biting back frustration during impossible phone calls, curled ever-so-faintly in quiet amusement when he thought you weren’t looking.

You’d stared at Bruce Wayne's mouth more times than you cared to admit. It was hard not to when you were sitting across from him most days, fielding angry calls from supermodels and rearranging his schedule on a dime.

And now, up close, barely away from you, with his cowl hiding everything but his jaw, his lips…

You recognized him.

The sharp line of his jaw. The curve of his cheek. The slope of his mouth.

Bruce Wayne.

It hit you like a punch to the ribs.

But you didn’t say anything.

Your heart hammered wildly, your mind spinning, but you kept your expression carefully neutral.

You shut your mouth.

And he… didn’t notice. Or he did—and he didn’t care.

His eyes drifted to the window again, watching the rain streak down the glass, the faintest ghost of exhaustion settling over his expression.

You stayed quiet, your mind racing, pulse skittering wildly beneath your skin, but your face remained soft, composed—the same mask you wore around Bruce every day.

For now, your secret stayed safe between the two of you.

And his?

You’d carry that, too.

[smuttysabina]

COMM: The Sensual Difficulties of Pregnancy

(Janet x Girl-cock Pokimane, AriaSaki, Leslie, Jodi, Hyoon, Emiru, AngelsKimi, 6.7k Words) Tags: Janet is Preggo, The other seven have girl cocks, Single double triple quadruple septuple penetration, Oral sex, Vaginal sex, Anal sex, Titty sex, Foot sex, Hand sex, Urination, Lots of cum, More cum than their bodies have room for, Next to no hydration, Man this took a while.

Just because Janet was pregnant, didn't mean she stopped being the house cumdump. Her housemates continued to visit her on a daily basis, eager to drain their thick loads into her repeatedly; even as her belly continued to swell outwards with child. Not that anyone actually knew who the father (mother?) was, all of the girls had been pumping Janet's fertile pussy full of semen the moment she had "forgotten" to take the pill, so they would really only know for sure when the baby popped out. What they all knew for certain though was that it would definitely not be Janet's worthless cuck of a boyfriend, even if she did let him mount her unprotected, his seed would always be swimming in an ocean of theirs. So dear Jan-Jan's days as a formidably pregnant woman would start as it always had: with some painfully erect dick-girl plowing their morning load into her ever so breedable cunt...

Aria stifles a yawn as she pushes open the door that leads to Janet's room, her skimpy outfit doing little to disguise the blatant bulge in her shorts. She had been up all night doing one of her usual marathon streams, and after seven hours of Hell's Kitchen, her boredom had reached such levels that only sexual release could assuage it; so, naturally, she went to visit Janet and drain some of that tension out into her friend. Aria wasn't exactly sure when everyone started using Janet as a communal jizz-sink, but it was probably around the time that they found out she was one of the few girls living in the streamer house who actually had a pussy. Of course, Aria had mounted her as often as the other girls, since it meant she could dump her load in someone without having to return the favor, which was a problem considering how long some of them could take. So Aria was more than a little nonplussed to discover her favorite passive fleshlight currently in use.

Thick, powerful thighs support Pokimane as she pistons atop Janet's decidedly more modest rear, her cock buried in the other girl's asshole to the hilt. Janet moans as her guts are rearranged by Poki's sizable cock, her swollen belly easily visible between her spread legs as she remains bent over and simply takes it. her gaping cunt gushing with every thrust. Instead of apologizing and leaving like a "normal" roommate would, Aria simply walks in a blearily greets the coupling pair, who cheerfully respond in turn, "Good morning, Aria!" Poki sings, "Hnnngh! Morning, Aria!" Janet grunts as a fresh drizzle of squirt erupts from her pussy; nobody bothers acknowledging Janet's boyfriend sitting in the cuck chair, why would they? "Poki..." Aria whines, "Will you finish soon? I am super pent up right now..." "Oh," Poki pauses with balls nestled against Janet's vulva, "You can use my ass if you want, get a little train going on! Heh heh," she cackles, wiggling her butt in emphasis, which makes Janet groan, but Aria sighs, "Ohmygosh Poki, I nutted in you like, yesterday, I just need to unload real quick..."

Poki nods in understanding, before smoothly pulling out, leaving Janet's anus sputtering foully as it blinks at Aria. Pokimane smacks Janet's ass as she admires the mess she made of her friend's butthole, her dangling womanhood dripping lube all over the floor, before graciously inviting Aria to take her place. Who wastes no time in stripping off what little she was wearing as she approaches, her cock already stiffening in excitement. Aria pauses as she considers which hole to pick, and wonders at how blown out Janet's ass was, Poki had been using it for a while, which was fairly normal considering how long it took her to finish; Aria had dealt with that problem far too many times. So instead she shoves her much more modest dick into Janet's gooey pussy, and is soon enthusiastically pounding away at the pregnant girl from behind. Poki strokes herself idly while she watches, normally she would use this time to have Janet clean off her cock with her mouth, but she knows... Aria lets out a loud groan, her thrusts suddenly becoming frantic while she pants and yells, her balls pulsating as she breeds her pregnant friend. Poki yawns teasingly, it had barely even been two minutes.

Aria leaves behind quite the mess inside of Janet, she might not last very long, but she certainly leaves her mark, and Poki licks her lips as she prepares to enjoy some very sloppy seconds. Her regular morning routine is interrupted however, when Kimi and Leslie stumble through the half open door, their hair disheveled and with semen drying on their thighs. Their giggling cuts out when they notice they are not alone, and they cheerfully greet the trio; as if it wasn't obvious what those two had been up to. Seeing that Poki was about to take her turn, the duo politely urge her to continue, and instead turn their attentions to Aria, who dutifully drops to her knees and starts sucking them off. Kimi and Leslie groan as their busty friend messily pleasures them with her mouth, rubbing their swollen tips together while she licks them, as precum trickles down her chin. Meanwhile Poki remounts Janet, this time forcing her meat into the other girl's pussy, before determinedly pounding away at it, sending Aria's semen spraying all over the place. If Aria had any disagreement regarding the flagrant waste of her load, she was unable to voice it, as Kimi gives in to her lust and greedily occupies Aria's throat with dick; leaving Leslie pouting while Kimi fucks her friend's face.

"Um. Kimi, really?" Leslie grumbles while she shamelessly gropes Kimi's chest, making the other girl twitch, "Hnnngh, sorry," Kimi gasps, "She's just so freaking good at this..." to which Aria gurgles in protest, even while she strokes herself. Leslie considers her options, there were more than a few holes available to be filled, but who she had really been craving was- "Poki!" Leslie greets her friend while she presses her erection up against Poki's sizable rear, who looks back with a smile, "Oh, hey Leslie! Come on right in," she says amiably, as if she were inviting Leslie into her room and not ballsdeep into her guts. And Leslie wastes no time in shoving herself into Poki's ass, who politely pauses to allow Leslie to penetrate her more easily, and her dick slides inside with surprising ease, suggesting Poki's butt still had lube inside of it from an earlier coupling. Not that Leslie minded much, finding an unused hole in this streamer house was next to impossible.

Poki pauses in her ceaseless assault on Janet's innards long enough to allow Leslie to find her rhythm, before resuming her own movement; whenever Poki goes in, Leslise pulls out, whenever Poki pulls out, Leslie goes in. This sort of concerted motion meant that Poki was being constantly pleasured from both sides, with her dick buried in Janet's pussy, and Leslie plowing her thick cheeks, even her notorious stamina was being tested. With her climax painfully approaching, Poki picks up the pace, heartlessly slamming her cock in Janet, who can only wail while her cunt gets hopelessly stretched up. The streamer is appallingly loud when she cums, groaning as her weighty balls clench spasmodically and pump their contents down Poki's shivering shaft and into Janet. Who gasps as her cunt is literally flooded with semen, causing it to balloon as it is filled to capacity and beyond. Poki only starts to back off when her cock is literally forced back by the pressure, and when she pulls out a river of semen erupts from Janet's gaping hole. Janet collapses onto the bed, twitching fitfully as her pussy messily prolapses, moaning in complaint, "Fuuuuuck Poki, I told you to use my ass! What if you make my water break!" Poki looks suitably mortified, until Leslie slaps her ass, "Hey, sit on it, whore," and Poki smirks.

After only a minute, Leslie is howling as loudly as Janet had been, "Oh god," she gasps while spanking Poki, "You fucking slut. You are so fucking good at this!" Poki licks her lips as she rides her friend, using her hands to hold her hair up, her powerful thighs pistoning her entire bodyweight up and down Leslie's length, "Mmmm, you like that mommy?" Poki purrs, her cock flopping wetly with every bounce, "You like making me work for it?" Leslie groans, attempting to thrust her hips upwards but getting smashed down every time by the sheer mass of Poki's rear as her dick gets used like a dildo. The pair are briefly distracted when Aria's head slams against the side of the bed, as Kimi pins her there to force her entire cock down her throat, until her balls are nestled against Aria's chin. Aria snorts slobber all over Kimi's crotch as she fucks her face like a pussy, her weighty breasts wobbling as she struggles for air, and her cock leaking pitifully. Poki laughs with delight at the sight, and picks up the pace even more as Leslie hurls abuse at her.

Leslie has no way of making Poki slow down, so she is forced to simply lay there and take it while her cock unloads into Poki's guts, clawing at the sheets as she gets drained by the fattest cheeks in OTV. Poki sighs as warmth fills her, grinding on Leslie's dick until it is finished and she unmounts it, with barely a drop leaking out down her sweaty thighs. Nearby, Kimi pulls out of Aria's mouth, prompting a deluge of spittle and puke to spill down Aria's heaving chest, and she looks up in indignation, "Oh my gawd, Kimi, can you fucking cum already?" making Kimi laugh awkwardly, "Okay, sorry Aria, I actually came like twice, I just kinda kept going..." Kimi shrugs with a cheesy grin. Aria rolls her eyes, "Whatever, at least you didn't piss down my throat this time!" Kimi coughs, "Um, about that," "Not again! Oh my gawd Kimi, I told you! No wonder my belly feels so weird..." Aria pouts tearfully, until Poki slithers off the bed to comfort her lovingly. Such was the tableau that greeted Emiru, Hyoon, and Jodi when they wandered through the door, and they immediately start asking questions, "Woah, what's up?" "Oh no, Aria! What's wrong?"

After hearing about the situation, the newly arrived trio agree that the only thing to do was gangbang Kimi, and of course, Janet for good measure. Kimi naturally tries to protest, but she is swiftly borne onto the sheets, where she is forced down onto Jodi's thick cock, while both Emiru and Leslie's members crowd around her face. Kimi gamely tries to resist, but soon her mouth is pried open and she is forced to endure what she so recently inflicted upon Aria. Who is now getting pampered by Poki and Hyoon, who squish their ample cleavage around Aria's drooling member, while Janet strokes them both off from behind. Aria's cock slop is soon covering the pair's breasts with rope after rope of thick semen, but they continue to coo and tittyfuck her as if she was not hosing their chests with jizz. Kimi meanwhile is receiving the opposite sort of treatment, as Emiru plows her face with frantic enthusiasm, spittle exploding from Kimi's mouth as her gag reflex is tested to the brink. Only when Emiru jizzes down her throat does it trigger, and Emiru's load is soon spewing right back onto its source, covering her dick with creamy puke as she howls in outrage, "You nasty bitch! Can't you keep it down!" Emiru slaps Kimi repeatedly, who groans as she hacks up streamers of chunky cum, before Emiru slams her meat back into her mouth, "Try to not puke my piss up, Aria could keep yours down!" And Kimi whines in response.

Leslie was feeling a touch left out with Emiru monopolizing Kimi's upper hole, and so decides to join Jodi in her lower hole. Who politely pauses when she feels Leslie's tip pressing against her shaft, and a welter of precum from Kimi's semi-flaccid dick gives her all the lubrication Leslie needs to force her way inside. Though to be fair, Kimi was such an ass-slut that her friends had little trouble fitting two sizable dicks in her rear, so there was not much forcing involved at all. Neither Jodi nor Leslie hold back either, each of them setting their own paces fucking Kimi's guts, their shafts sliding wetly against one another while their balls smack together. After several minutes of this abuse, Kimi's cock shrinks dramatically, leaking thick droplets of cum in surrender as her insides get forcibly rearranged, her butt pushing out against the womanhoods penetrating her. Soon pre-cum laced piss is spraying out of Kimi's shrunken dick, soaking Leslie's chest and spilling onto the sheets, OTV's Anal Queen shuddering with delight as her bowels get turned inside out. Jodi and Leslie cheerfully continue plowing her like disposable fleshlight, not even stopping when Kimi starts pissing cum all over the place as she climaxes anally.

Meanwhile Aria had perked up enough that Poki and Hyoon stopped tittyfucking her, and was now returning the favor to Poki, while Hyoon spreads Janet's legs and digs into the mess left by Poki. Janet groans as Hyoon's tongue cleans up every inch of her labia, while her fingers slither in and out of the cum-filled and gaping hole she called a pussy. Nearby, Aria was on her knees before Poki, wrapping her weighty, saggy tits around her shaft while she sucked enthusiastically on her tip; staring lovingly up at her best friend. Who gently strokes Aria's head while she is pleasured, groaning with delight, "Oh god, Aria, this always gets me going! I just want to fuck those fat tiddies all day!" Aria blushes demurely, Poki always brought out a submissiveness in her, and she slurps extra hard to make Poki moan before purring, "You know my tits belong to you, Mommy," her tongue dances along Poki's soggy tip, "All day, all night, whenever you want them," Poki grunts, "Fuck it. I want you. Now," Aria's eyes widen, "On to the bed baby girl, unless you want to do you on the floor?" Aria hurries to comply, and when she lays back on the bed she finds herself right next to Janet, who was in a similar situation.

Hyoon covetously strokes Janet's swollen belly while she slowly makes love to her pregnant friend, her cock pressing firmly into Janet's capacious pussy. Janet shudders as Hyoon's thick member pushes emphatically against her weak spot, it was rare for her holes to receive anything other than a brutal pounding, so Hyoon's more gentle treatment has her cunt gushing with excitement. The pair romantically grope one another, Janet's more modest breasts leaking milk while Hyoon's massive boobs are kneaded like dough. Squirt splatters against Hyoon's crotch, and Janet's hands drop and grab at the stained sheets as she moans loudly, her folds spasming around her friend's shaft as she climaxes. Meanwhile Aria has her legs peeled open by Poki, whose cock is already dripping sweet-smelling fluids when it presses against Aria's entrance. They both groan as Poki's dick slowly fills Aria's rear to the hilt, with Aria's eyes rolling back as her tongue involuntarily pops out, "Ohhh Mommy!" she gasps plaintively, "Mmm fuck you are tight," Poki purrs, running her hands up Aria's thighs and squeezing her sagging breasts, "I might be here for a while..."

A few feet away from this tender scene, Kimi is busy puking up thick ropes of jizz, while her gaping anus evacuates itself with equal enthusiasm. Having drained their balls and bladders into Kimi's guts, Jodi and Leslie turn their attentions to Emiru, who quickly finds herself on her back with her feet wrapped around Jodi's cock, while Leslie sits on her face. Leslie merrily strokes herself while Emiru's tongue cleans out her asshole, blowing kisses at Jodi who is busily leaking precum onto Emiru's toes with every frantic thrust. Soon enough, Jodi unloads onto her friend's feet, gripping each one firmly in turn and plastering them with her jizz. With a wicked smile, she raises one to her lips, and lovingly licks it clean, relishing in the taste of Emiru's feet mixed with her own semen; she proffers the other one to Leslie, who naturally digs in as well while Emiru twitches beneath them. Who attempts to protest, yelling up at the two in disgust, "EW, can you bitches not fucking cum on my feet, you fucking freaks!" Leslie rolls her eyes before scooting back slightly, gripping Emiru's head and forcing it back, placing her tip against her lips. "Oh my god. Shut up, Emiru! You always have such a dirty mouth, you're so much easier to deal with when you have a dick shoved down it!" Leslie grumbles "Hey, fuck you!" Emiru responds, defiantly gnashing her teeth until Leslie slaps her a few times, which leaves her dazed enough to comply. Leslie sighs as her cock makes Emiru's throat bulge, and glances up at Jodi who is mounting Emiru's upraised womanhood; her own cock resting wetly against her taut tummy.

Emiru writhes as her face gets fucked by Leslie, enduring the same treatment she had inflicted upon Kimi, though with far less urination and verbal abuse involved. Her narrow hips attempt to buck, but are smashed down each time by Jodi's respectable posterior, who rides her with languid experience, treating Emiru's dick like a dildo. The pair lock eyes, smirking at each other while they ravage the bratty bitch in their own ways, and start sloppily making out with one another. Eventually, Kimi recovers enough to crawl over to join the fun, leaving a trail of stinking fluids from her blown out asshole, and makes the kissing session even more messy by adding her own tongue to the mix. Kimi's delicate hands stroke Jodi's flopping meat, selflessly working the shaft before focusing all of her attention on Jodi's bulbous head; her fingers smearing the precum against the tip. Jodi's flopping balls are soon nestled against her groin, pulsing rhythmically as Kimi expertly milks them, her length pulsating as it pumps its load out into the world; where it is stopped by Kimi's finger. Jodi lets out a confused groan, and all three break off their kiss to glance down to discover Kimi's forefinger buried to the knuckle in Jodi's dick.

Leslie whistles in amazement at the sight, her balls slapping steadily against Emiru's pointed nose, "Wow Jodi, you should have told me you've been doing sounding! That looks insane!" Jodi gurgles in response, "Hnnngh fuck Kimi, my dick is going to burst!" her balls pulse painfully, "Ugh, my load is still coming out!" Kimi licks her lips teasingly as she leans down to watch Jodi's womanhood spasming, "Mhmm I want to make sure it's all nice and clogged up, so when your next load comes out... :3" Jodi moans in torment, "Fuuuck you Kimi, I'm going to fuck you so hard after this..." But Kimi just giggles, "As long as you finish on my face, sure! Oh! I think your orgasm is ending..." with that she slowly removes her finger from Jodi's dick, which emits only a feeble trickle of precum, the rest of her load still stuck in her shaft. While this experimental duet is playing out, Leslie is busy pumping Emiru's stomach full of jizz, who struggles and beats at the mattress as her tummy grows bloated and she struggles for breath. All three of the girls watch with bemusement as Emiru's guts swell up, until Jodi frowns and comments, "I think she's pissing in me."

Janet's own swollen stomach was receiving a similar, if less urinary treatment, as Hyoon romantically creampies her, massaging Janet's bloated belly as her thick semen spews into her pussy; and more than that as well. Janet looks down in amazement as she feels Hyoon's sperm wriggling through her cervix, her lover's tender treatment having coaxed it open, while her hands press firmly against her ovaries, encouraging them to produce that most precious of gifts. Janet gurgles as she realizes what was happening, "Wait, are- are you impregnating me again? But I'm already...!" she twitches as she climaxes from being inseminated, her toes curling in the air. Hyoon beams, "Mhmm! Some of us are impatient, you know, and with less than 15 years left on your baby factory, it makes sense to get another one ready before this one is out!" She leans down to kiss Janet, "Oh, I sure hope it's a girl, otherwise we'll just have to keep trying..." Janet groans, she hadn't planned on spending her thirties being a breeding sow for her best friends, but it did sound like an enjoyable time, and she clutches tightly at Aria's outstretched hand...

Who returns Janet's grip fiercely, as Poki's massive cock pounds her innards out of shape, the pulsating bulge in Aria's stomach prominent enough to disturb her sagging cleavage. Poki was being rougher than usual with her favorite fucktoy, and Aria's dick twitches excitedly as it bounces around on her tummy, leaking continuously and emitting occasional spurts of jizz that splatter against her heaving chest. With her legs around Poki's waist, Aria simply takes it, begging her best friend for more, her unusual lack of brattiness only spurring Poki on further, "Oh fuck Mommy," Aria groans, "Breed me, pump me full of your cum, I want your fucking babies!" Poki stares down in shock at Aria, her cock twitching while she feels her sack wrinkling, "Oh my god, Aria?" her breath catches as her mind whirls, "I-I... Oh fuck it! I'm gonna fucking knock you up, bitch!" Aria gurgles with pleasure as she relaxes her ass, submitting completely to Poki's ferocious pounding, her face flushing while her eyes roll back as her mind melts, "Yesyesyesyesyesyes," Aria drools through gritted teeth, as Poki leans in for a messy kiss, their sweaty bodies squishing against one another, their erect nipples impaling each other's fleshy breasts.

Aria's feet spasm on the perch around Poki's shapely waist, and her loud groans are muffled by Poki's tongue as it fills her mouth, Poki's rough, deep strokes turning into frantic short ones as if she was afraid to pull out even an inch. Aria lets out a plaintive whine when Poki gasps, and her cock paints the undersides of their squished cleavage, as her insides are flooded with burning, sticky warmth. Poki shudders atop her friend, her balls pulsating painfully as they empty themselves, her dick throbbing inside of Aria's guts, unable to pull out with Aria's legs locked tightly around her shapely waist. Poki only manages to untangle herself from Aria's embrace after several minutes of extremely sloppy kissing, congealed strings of semen still connecting their chests while they both breathlessly stare at one another. Then Aria smirks with satisfaction, "Wow, that was quick," causing Poki to blush, "Then why don't you do that more often then, huh?" and now it is Aria's turn to flush, "Geez, I guess you'll have to find out..." They both smile knowingly, before Poki gingerly pulls out of Aria, leaving her anus gaping and belching jizz.

The other four girls soon join the two couples, and a rather messy cuddle puddle ensues, with the eight streamers squishing and sliding their sweaty cum-streaked bodies against one another. They giggle and purr while they massage each other's supple forms, with Janet's protruding belly being the most popular of all, and all of this heavy petting naturally leads to its sensual destination. Several salacious minutes later, and Leslie was busy sloppily making out with Janet while Aria plowed her from behind, and her kissing partner was getting her pussy simultaneously filled by both Emiru and Kimi. That bitchy pair had been fighting over who would get to mount the pregnant Janet, and when both of their dicks had slipped inside, they had simply not stopped thrusting. While that whole situation was developing, Jodi had taken the chance to mount Hyoon's sizable cleavage, and Poki was rigorously cleaning Hyoon's cock off with her mouth.

Aria grunts and pants while she pounds away at Leslie's modest rear, with her guts still sloshing with Poki's seed, she seems unable to stop herself from trying to replicate that feeling for Leslie. Who gurgles happily while her tongue tussles with dear Janet's, Aria might not be getting very deep inside of her, but her constant creampies were starting to make the pressure inside of her reach ever higher levels. Leslie's flopping dick leaks continuously, as her prostate is squished by the sheer volume of jizz flooding her lower intestine; and every time Aria's balls smash against hers, Leslie's cock spurts a little. Her kissing partner suffers from something similar, as Emiru and Kimi both violently rail her gushing pussy, "Can you get your gross-ass dick out of my pussy?" Kimi hisses, "I don't want to feel your disgusting chunky cum on my dick!" "Oh shut the fuck up!" Emiru spits, "You were guzzling my jizz and my piss like an hour ago! And plus, I was in here first!" "I know you always finish first," Kimi retorts, "That's why you should stick it in her ass instead!" "Isn't butt stuff your thing? I thought perverts like you would want to fuck Janet's shithole!" Emiru sneers, "Oh my god can you shut up about her butt," Kimi groans, I'm trying-" "Trying to fucking what? You shut up and- WAIT ARE YOU CUMMING?" Emiru howls in disbelief as Kimi unloads inside of Janet, slathering both of their dicks in her cream while they continue to aggressively hump Janet's cunt until Emiru blows several moments later.

Now both Emiru and Kimi are moaning as they churn Janet's pussy with their dick-sticks, fucking each other's semen as much as their friend's blown out hole. When they finally pull out of Janet's quivering body, their thoroughly mixed stew of jizz gushes out of her, and both of them are flushed and breathing heavily. The pair glare furiously at each other, before, naturally, sloppily making out, while Janet's cunt belches their loads back out onto their thighs. By the time they break off the kiss, spit connects their tongues, and share sleazy smiles until Kimi shoves Emiru onto her back and crawls atop her. Emiru accepts Kimi's dick down her throat with surprising grace, and Kimi returns the favor, pressing her face down onto Emiru's cock, massaging the other girl's taint until she gets the response she wants. Kimi's eyes widen as Emiru's piss once more spews directly into her stomach, and she hears Emiru gagging as she does the same, the pair of perverts relishing in the deviancy of their activity. The two happily continue sucking on each other's meat, though Emiru's more sensitive gag reflex has Kimi's urine erupting out of her nose, until Kimi feels something hard pressing against her loose asshole.

Jodi had been getting edged the entire time by Hyoon, whose bountiful breasts and teasing tongue had Jodi's balls throbbing in agony, doubly so considering the load still moldering inside of her dick. So when she saw Kimi's fat ass bobbing atop Emiru's face, she had leapt at the chance to finally have a proper climax. Jodi didn't even bother prepping Kimi, she simply grabbed her waist and slammed her cock to the hilt into Kimi's blown-out asshole. Kimi gasps, and chokes noisily on Emiru's dick as she struggles to handle her anus's sudden violation, while Jodi brutally pounds away at her ass. Kimi orgasms from the stimulation of having her guts pumped out of shape, and Emiru soon follows suit while she drowns in Kimi's seed. Jodi doesn't notice either of the 69-ing girls' orgasms, and continues her violent thrusting until her pent up load finally erupts into Kimi's innards. All of three of them shudder in sympathy as Jodi spends an entire minute howling with pleasure while her balls pulsate ceaselessly, unable to stop herself from fucking even as she almost passes out from overstimulation. When Jodi pulls out, a veritable stream of cum burbles out of Kimi's destroyed asshole and down her balls, where it splatters all over Emiru's unprotected face, who whines as her eyes marinate in Jodi's jizz.

For her part, Poki had not stopped sucking off Hyoon when Jodi unmounted her enormous breasts, her tongue languidly exploring and cleaning out every nook and cranny of Hyoon's twitching meat. Once she had finished licking Hyoon clean, Poki confidently took her entire length down her throat, staring calmly up at Hyoon while her tongue lapped at her balls. Gripping Poki's hair, Hyoon spends the next few minutes using Poki's mouth like a sex toy, slamming her head up and down her shaft, until the usually reserved streamer was gasping with pleasure. Hyoon knew exactly where she wanted to finish though, and Poki smiles around her cock before rising up off of it and bringing her breasts to bear. She is then treated to a front-seat view of Pokimane herself giving her a superb tittyfuck, expertly squishing her boobs around Hyoon's dick while she drags them up and down her erection until Hyoon is begging her to not stop. Poki smirks as her neck and chin are given a necklace of pearls, Hyoon's thick load splattering against her lower face and flooding her cleavage.

Hyoon does not hesitate for a moment in offering to pay Poki back in kind, and soon Poki's rigid dick flops between her massive tits. Hyoon's breasts were the largest in the room, even more sizable and perky than Aria's weighty rack, and so Poki is able to fuck them like a pussy with ease. She smiles serenely up at Poki while she vigorously humps her chests, her bountiful bodice absorbing the shock even if Poki's tip smacks against her chin. Poki's own tits wobble excitedly in time with her thrusts, dripping Hyoon's cum down onto her and giving her a shower of her own semen. Who was no doubt expecting to be here for a while, considering Poki's legendary stamina, if she had not spotted Janet crawling up behind Poki before shoving her hand up her ass. With her cock firmly wrapped in Hyoon's pillows, and her prostate getting punched, Poki soon finds herself finishing with surprising swiftness, her entire body shuddering as her load swamps Hyoon's tits and gushes down onto her thick thighs. Once Poki's climax passes, Hyoon rises to join her, squishing their messy breasts together and kissing Poki; while below Janet enthusiastically cleans their cocks with her mouth. The trio continue in this state for sometime, until Leslie's panicked shriek startles them and draws their attention, and they all look over to her collapsed onto her front, her ass violently shitting Aria's jizz back onto her even while she continues to stroke herself. What a messy girl.

Things only degenerate from there. With every passing hour the girls' orgasms grow more and more difficult to attain, so they turn to ever more exotic ways to reach them. By that point, the pent-up stench of spilled sexual fluids inundated the room, a muggy stink that only seemed to spur the depraved streamers on; and the girls were forced to squelch through an inch-deep puddle covering the floor whenever they maneuvered around the bed. The moral rot started slowly, with a sudden obsession for asses swept through the orgy, and naturally the most thickly endowed duly hoisted their posteriors to be mounted. Hyoon, Janet, Kimi, and Poki line up, squishing their butts together to form an all-you-can-fuck buffet for the other girls, who waste no time in digging in. Aria, Emiru, Jodi, and Leslie spend over an hour fucking their friends' free-use holes, pumping their loads between their rounded cheeks before switching to the next fat rear to fill. Cum froths out of the girls' assholes, leaking down their dripping cocks and cunt while they just lay their and take it, orgasming from the sheer pleasure of being used like pocket pussies. Hyoon and Pokimane get the roughest attention, their sizable asses turning beet red from the relentless pounding they have to endure.

After a frantic and somewhat forceful cuddle puddle to help work off the passive quad's stifled lusts, Leslie develops a sudden fascination with Emiru's dainty little feet; which soon spreads to everyone involved. Leslie languidly cleans out the the jizz clogging Emiru's delicate toes, lovingly licking them clean and drinking in their heady smell. While Jodi and Kimi shove their feet into each others' mouths, Poki fucks Janet's soles, her dick still more than engorged after her ass got used for so long. Aria and Hyoon join in on the fun as well, all of them using their feet to stroke Poki's mighty shaft, toying with her swaying balls with their greasy toes until someone gets a great idea. The three of them stand giggling by the end of the bed, their feet interspersed and forming a sole tunnel on the mattress that Poki eagerly shoves her cock into. Poki grunts while she fucks the trio's feet, the stimulation of their sweaty skin enough to excite her but not bring her to climax, until Aria shifts her weight and pushes a little too hard down... A minute later and all three of the streamers are gleefully stepping on Poki's dick, stomping on its absurd length while she groans with pleasure, and her usually redoubtable demeanor breaks and starts to beg them to crush her cock. Aria, Hyoon, and Janet laughingly comply, stamping on her penis until Poki lets out a strained gurgle and inundates a section of the sheets with thick streams of cum.

By this point the bed was so soaked-through with squirt, piss, and semen, that Poki's emission simply pooled next to where Jodi and Kimi lay intertwined, and they daintily dipped their feet into the murky puddle to feed each other Poki's jizz. Aria squelchingly joins them, hustling the perverted pair together and gracefully slopping her best friend's cock-cream all over her chest, before bringing her clogged cleavage to bear on the two's twitching cocks. Jodi and Kimi groan, their defiled feet in each other's mouths, while their dicks are squished together and enthusiastically pleasured by Aria's messy tits. With Poki's cock somewhat out of service after being trampled upon, Hyoon and Janet debauch to join Emiru and Leslie, who quickly figure out the best way to pass the time would be to make Janet airtight, so they each pick a hole and get to it. With Hyoon filling her throat, Leslie pounding her ass, and Emiru sloshing around in her cunt, Janet is more than entertained. But of course, just plowing Janet's loosened holes is not enough stimulation for the other three by this point, so when Emiru randomly starts sucking on Janet's fingers, the other two happily follow suit. Soon all four of them are licking the filth off of each other's fingers, all while still engaging in intensive triple penetrative sex.

As the hours pass, the streamers finally begin to lose steam and pass out from sheer exhaustion. Aria is one of the first to go, while all seven of the girl-cock wielding idols are fucking Janet at the same time. Aria shares Janet's pussy with Emiru, their cocks crushed together inside of her sloppy hole, with jizz dripping down onto them from above while Janet alternates sucking off three of the other girls, and two more squishing in beside them to share Janet's ass. With so much going on at once, Aria is literally unable to stop cumming, power-washing Janet's cunt with her jizz while her and Emiru desperately hump Janet's hole until Aria passes out; her balls completely drained. Kimi is next, after indulging in her favorite party trick of fitting as many cocks as humanly possible in her ass. Binding four of her friend's dongs together with a soggy hairband, she groaningly shoves their combined girth into her blown out asshole, shuddering and twitching while she slides down their lengths until she reaches their hilts. Kimi's cock retracts while she greedily bounces on the four dicks in her butt, spraying cum like a hose until she finally collapses from overstimulation, her asshole left permanently gaping and oozing semen.

Emiru soon follows the other two into somnolence, puking up an endless stream of piss and jizz after the other girls gave her an impromptu bukkake that she was naturally obliged to swallow; the following urination circle did not help with her swollen stomach either. Her belly bulging obscenely in a perverse mirror to Janet's Emiru wasted little time in regurgitating the foul concoction sloshing around in her tummy, her eyes rolling back while she leans over the side of the bed and adds to the pool of spilt sexual fluids already inundating the floor before passing out. It takes some time, but Jodi is the next to fall, railing away at Poki's massive cheeks, spanking them repeatedly while Janet pummels her prostate with her fist. Janet joins in on the fun and brutalizes Jodi's swaying balls, forcing her into one final colossal orgasm before her body simply gives up and she collapses on top of Poki, twitching fitfully while pleasure wracks her unconscious form.

Hyoon gracefully follows the others into rest- oh come now, that would be an absolute lie. Hyoon keeled over after mounting Poki's thick ass after shoving Jodi's limp body out of the way, the normally reserved streamer unable to stop herself from draining the final dregs of her balls into her friend's clogged guts. Flipping Poki over, she pounds away at her in mating press, their slippery tits squishing together in a sordid parody of an earlier coupling until Hyoon lets out a final grunt and expends herself into Poki. She attempts to pull out, but ends up falling asleep upon Poki's ample cleavage, who for her part, was by now utterly exhausted as well. Poki's ass had been the most fucked hole after Janet's pussy, and after her cock was still throbbing after it had been crushed, so with even her legendary endurance flagging, Poki chooses to simply join Hyoon in her rest; it wouldn't be the first time she had fallen asleep with someone sprawled atop her.

Janet and Leslie were the final pair to go, with the heavily pregnant and now thoroughly filled Janet bouncing ponderously atop Leslie's upraised dick. Her sagging breasts, glutted with milk bounce heavily on her chest, leaking milk in a steady stream that courses across her swollen belly. Janet groans as she unloads once more into Janet's gushing folds, her aching cock begging for mercy but she is unable to stop herself from continuing to fuck Janet. She rubs enthusiastically at Janet's bulging tummy, relishing in the thought that that baby within was hers, it totally had to be, she was the one with the most potent seed! Janet giggles as the congealed leavings of scores of creampies splatter across Leslie, "Fuck, I think I need to slow down! If I keep going I think my water is going to break!" which only sends Leslie into overdrive, expending the last of her reserves to excitedly pummel Janet's swollen pussy, slopping cream all over her until finally refilling it with one final orgasm. Leslie then promptly passes out, a wide grin on her face, her cock shriveling inside of Janet.

Janet glances around at the appalling ruin of her room, girls sprawled all over her sodden bed, the floor several inches deep in semen, and pouts. She was already a horny girl, and pregnancy had not helped with that, she had quite enjoyed getting treated like a cumdump by all her housemates, she just wished they would spend less time fucking each other, and spend more time filling her holes! She has three of them! Janet huffs, oh well, she'll just have to wait until tomorrow morning for them all to wander in again, and maybe that time she can get them to focus on her more...

[bloodmale]

O6 : IDGAF WARRIOR ( word count : 681 )

You really, really despised studying. There was nothing enjoyable about it. But you couldn’t just ditch even if you wanted to. You’re pretty sure Yeong yi and Beomseok would skin you alive if you did. But god was the most boring thing ever.

At the start it was bearable, you’d ask questions about topics that confused you—whether it’d be math, science, or english—Sieun would explain them all. You had to give him credit, he was intelligent to say the least. But it was like studying with a robot. He never made jokes, never looked at you, never even gave you a smile. He had to hate you. Why else would he be so cold?

“How long has it been?” Your face was smushed against the table beneath you. Exhaustion practically embedded itself om your face. “An hour.” Sieun didn’t even spare you a glance, yet you still shot up at that response.

“It can’t be an hour?! I’ve been writing down formulas for decades!” You aggressively tapped against the notes displayed on the table. Sieun shot you a glare at your noise, his eyes practically yelling ‘shut up’. You looked back down in embarrassment, muttering a quick apology.

“Can we take a break, I really think my brain might crash from all the information I’ve taken in.” You expressed, hands moving to rub your forehead. “Seriously, I think I’m getting a headache.” You groaned, but it all fell on deaf ears—not a single reaction, not even a hum to prove he was listening. At this point you were debating whether he was an absolute bitch or not.

“Are you even listening?” You hated being ignored, especially when he was sitting right in front of you, and he could definitely hear you. You had assumed he was just quiet, more introverted that’s all, but it was getting annoying now.

“I thought you wanted tutoring lessons.” His tone was flat, barely held anything behind it—annoyance nor fatigue. “I do!” You interjected, though Sieun didn’t seemed convinced by the look on his face.

“Then finish getting through this chapter.” The way he said it—sharp and quick—you couldn’t argue. You thought you should be glad that someone was pushing you to actually succeed, but it irritated you instead. He didn’t have to be so rude about it, all humans deserve a break, and you were human after all!

Yet in the end you were stuck—reading whatever unit Sieun suggested you focus on and writing until you felt your hand cramp at just the thought of lifting a pen.

The sky was dim by the time you finished getting through mostly all of yours notes of the day. You never felt more exhausted than you did today. You swore steam was escaping from the top of your scalp.

Sieun seemed to still be focused on his assignment; an earpiece covering one ear with his body was hovering over his notebook like he was shielding it. How the hell was he not tired? You felt your head ache at the mere thought of reading more than five pages.

“Sieun,” you tapped a finger lighting on his notebook. “It’s getting late, I’m gonna leave okay?” You sat up without waiting for an answer. You were already tired beyond belief, and seeing Sieun work so diligently on his papers made it worse.

Sieun just looked up at you, his eyes stayed glued on your moving body—watching you pack away all your things. He didn’t wish you a farewell, he just watched as you left, and of course you noticed. Though from how distant he was it didn’t offend you anymore. You simply didn’t care; a goodbye from him was the last thing on your mind.

The only thing you could think of when you left was how strange he was. You didn’t know if he was being an asshole on purpose or if he was like that all the time. You had made a mental note to yell at Beomseok about this, because now you were more upset at the thought of studying with Sieun than studying in general.

masterlist prev chap next chap

notes , first written chapter kinda nervy… sorry if this lowkey sucks i made this with barely any sleep💔 spare me

TAGS : @randomheyl @ant-onie @screamertannie @jvhoonie @ceeisatlumon @ruruyinn @stxr-lilac @bblgeum @surfeitstar @xiaojunns @lunaryoongie @bblgeum @nubyeol @cielopain @runaaclou @kimchisouplegend @tojirin

[quietplace26]

Hey~

Can you please talk about a clingy and possessive Neuvillette in diary of secrets.

He's so possessive and jealous because everyone in Fontaine is seeking MC's attention and approval.

His mood sour if someone tries to distract her or simply touching her, which makes him feel so territorial, after that he makes sure to scent her like the possessive dragon he is.

Sorry for my bad english.

Oh, Neuvillette in this au is extremely possessive to an almost feral degree.

He always, and I mean ALWAYS has to have a hand on MC. There's always a possessively large hand holding her hand, resting her shoulder, or goodness knows, gripping her hips.

He also doesn't hide it. At. All.

He will come up, press himself behind or beside MC, hands on her shoulders or hips, thumbs rubbing possessively as he looks at the ones who dare try to cozy up to her-

Even flat out burying his face into her hair or shoulder, scenting her furiously and then looks the fool directly in the eye.

And all the while poor MC is all blushy and shy, unsure how to take it as 500 years' worth of touchstarveness comes crashing down, making her constantly flip between wanting to run from the touches or lean into them.

But she grows used to as she grows used to this changed Fontaine. Grows used to the possessive touches, to his habit of getting into her personal space-

It gets to a point where she doesn't flinch when one night he presses up behind her and buries his face into her neck, growling into her flesh about foolish mortals who didn't know their place, who should know not to touch what was already HIS-

When she feels flick of a tongue or press of lips, all she does is gasp, and let him continue-

Because she was HIS.

Tagging: @platinumrosetail, @arn9tails, @bloodytea, @esthelily

[scrawdragon]

OH HI HELLO THAT WAS ME WITH THE HORRENDOUS AMOUNT OF TAGS SORRY 👀

i remember the fact that they had to share stories of themselves in Nehkbet, buuuuut i also can’t remember a shit ton about that episode in general. i remember frost didn’t tell one and just seemed to be avoidant of it. it’s been a hot second since i’ve seen that episode, but if my little rat brain is connecting two neurons together for once,

then i THINK that Frost was asked in some type of way to give up a story so they could press onwards. but my memory fizzles out after that :P

and YEAH!! I think that the at least one reasons for Frost’s avoidance of discussing himself and his past is because he’s simply just too scared to do it. A part of me says that it would be almost like admitting that he’s drifted so far away from the original training he’d been through for so many years, and that he doesn’t want to even think that he’s grown so apart from it. Another part of me is whispering that maybe the Psionic Order itself is extremely secretive. That had been drilled into Frost’s head since he got there that no one was allowed to share information about the Order unless they wanted to face severe consequence. Maybe it’s that fear that keeps him from talking about himself and his past. That if he talks about himself, he’ll tell more about the Order than he was supposed to. It would be a completely irrational fear, but one that he just can’t shake off. idk. my Secretive Order headcannon seems a little like a stretch to me, tbh, but it could be fun to play around with :P 

I think that Gricko would’ve probably been a little sad over it for a while— like, bros probably told Frost his entire life story atp, and Frost has told him either veeeery little or nothing at all abt his own life— but he’d eventually develop the mindset of smth like: “eh, that’s jus’ how Frosty is. he ain’t gonna change, and I ain’t gonna make him.” i do think that Gricko would still be frustrated over Frost’s almost-to-the-point-of-being-unhealthy-mysteriousness sometimes. and who could blame him for that, really, though? he’d have known Frosty for a long-ass time atp, and yet sometimes it’d be like he barely knows him at all :0

they *did* kinda have to do that story-sharing, but like… yeah, did they ALL have the share a story…? i cant quite remember what Frost learned from his story, but im pretty sure the only two prophecies that were actually useful were Torbek’s and Gideon’s… and they couldn’t even REMEMBER Gideon’s… but yep, kremy’s rotten on the inside. i’d bet my money that kremy would’ve used a “you’re my employee, i’m your employer” sort of trick to get the story out of Frost. but i’d also say that while kremy would’ve manipulated the story out of Frost, he’d also have enough respect for Frost to keep his story— or, at least, most of the details— to himself. kremy’s quite the character :/

also this is my public apology for the tons of tags from my earlier reblog :’D

I love how they keep drawing attention to the fact that no one knows shit about Frost despite knowing him for like a decade

[imrowanartist]

Ship Sleeping Dynamics!

I was tagged by both @glitteringdust and @thatgaymerguyb, thank youuu! I’ve put the answers to the questions under the cut, but obviously I couldn’t resist drawing this out, since I have very specific headcanons for how Davrin and Tamryn sleep XD

How often do they sleep together?

Shortly after they first kiss each other, drunk Davrin ends up offering drunk Tamryn his bed. Nothing happens that night, but it’s the first time they share his bed together. After that, Tamryn ends up in his bed more often, either because he falls asleep there, or because Davrin drags him to bed after a long day. After they actually sleep sleep together for the first time (and admit to each other that they’re in love), they start sleeping together every night.

Where do they sleep?

Davrin’s bed of course, because it’s an actual bed lol. Though they will also share a tent or a bedroll when they travel. Tamryn also falls asleep in random places sometimes, especially during the events of Veilguard. If Davrin comes across him and it looks too uncomfortable, he’ll actually take Tamryn to his bed, but sometimes he just covers him with a blanket too.

How do they prepare to sleep?

Davrin probably prepares more than Tamryn does. He’ll read something, or whittle, makes sure Assan is taken care of, then winds down in bed. Tamryn tends to keep going until he’s so tired he’ll almost fall asleep standing, then tends to stumble to bed and just pass out. After the events of VG, he develops healthier habits. Picking up some sketching again, or listening to Davrin read a book until they fall asleep.

What do they wear to sleep?

Davrin just wears his undergarments, or sleeps naked when it’s warm. Tamryn sleeps in his undergarments too, but often wears a loose shirt on top of it and socks, so his feet don’t get cold.

Do they cuddle?

Before sleep? Absolutely. And while they usually fall asleep loosely holding on to each other, during sleep Tamryn often rolls away. Though he has also been known to wake up laying half on top of Davrin.

How easily do they fall asleep?

Falling asleep is usually not an issue for them. As Wardens they’re used to sleeping in all kinds of circumstances and they have kind of taught themselves to sleep when they can. The problem is usually staying asleep.

Do they toss and turn a lot?

Davrin doesn’t, he usually falls asleep on his back or side, and wakes up in the same position. Tamryn definitely tosses and turns, often ending up taking half the bed XD

Do they snore?

Davrin snores a little bit sometimes, though usually Tamryn just has to give him a nudge and he’ll stop. Tamryn only snores (and drools) when he ends up on his stomach with his face squished into his pillow.

What do they dream about?

Before and during the events of VG, they both have Warden dreams about Darkspawn and the Calling. After the gods have escaped, their dreams grow gradually worse, waking each other up multiple times during the night. Though they find that sleeping together seems to make it less bad than sleeping alone. After the gods are defeated, their Warden dreams are much less bad, gradually disappearing as they clear out more and more blight. They both still have the occasional nightmares about everything that happened afterwards though, Tamryn more so than Davrin.

How easily do they wake up?

While their Warden instincts usually have them wake up quickly, Tamryn has an harder time waking up as the events of VG progress, due to plain exhaustion. Davrin has an easier time, also because of Assan waking him up to demand food or cuddles. After defeating the gods, when they simply travel and stay in various places, Davrin is often the one who will still wake up early, while Tamryn usually has to be prodded a bit to get out of bed.

How awake are they afterward?

This entirely depends on the situation. When woken up because of problems, they can both shake of sleep pretty easily. When they wake up naturally, Tamryn especially can be quite groggy. One more than one occasion, Davrin has made fun of his bed head and confusion. Though Davrin has also been known to bring Assan his breakfast while still half asleep. Neither of them drink much coffee, but during the events of VG they definitely need it some mornings.

I don’t know who has been tagged yet and who hasn’t, but I’m tagging @jukkaricity @emmster @bonesandivy @larkinna @tkwritesdumbassassins and whoever else wants to do it!

[mullermilkshake]

Division of the fake assets

Part 5 <- Part 6 -> Part 7

A divorce is what Satoru wants, so you and Suguru give it to him.

Sperm donor!Satoru Gojo x Fem New mom!reader x Husband!Suguru Geto Tags - NSFW, Smut, Car sex, P in v sex, Vaginal sex, Lactation kink, Breastfeeding, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex

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“Are you sure you want to go through with this? It’s very unorthodox. I’m not even a divorce attorney.”

Hiromi Higuruma hunched over behind his desk, rubbing his temples at one audacious request. You and Suguru sat on the other side, hands interlocked for comfort and support, anxiously waiting for the verdict.

“There’s no other way Hiromi. He has the money to fight us in court and win, doing it this the right way might put his guard down. I don’t like it anymore than you do, but I won’t have my wife face him in court. Not without the certainty that she’ll win.”

Court cases, countless yen spent on providing evidence and battling for name changes, the whole thing made your stomach churn. It was all time you’d miss out on with Sakura. But doing it this way meant Suguru forfeited time with her. Either way it was an uphill struggle, but this way had the financial advantage with money you and Suguru simply didn’t have.

“I understand that, but being the intended parents, you both should have held parental responsibility. The sperm donor doesn’t have any rights nor responsibilities over your child…” He shuffled through the paperwork with knitted brows. "How the hell did he get his name on that certificate... Even if he tries to play a mental health case to gain access to her, the child will nearly always go with the mother.”

“And what if she doesn’t?” You asked with a trembling lip, the thought of your daughter leaving you brought bile in your mouth. “He has a lot of money, Hiromi. Can you say for certain that he couldn’t take her away from me? We never signed a contract, there’s no real evidence that he donated his sperm for this. Just some hospital records but he’s on her birth certificate.”

“Well-“

“I have no paternity to my daughter, Hiromi. If we go down that route, he’ll win that way too as soon as they do a paternity test. Getting his name off of that birth certificate is almost impossible now- that window of opportunity is gone and he used our vulnerability to climb right through it.”

Suguru closed his eyes briefly, sucking in a gulp of air before letting it go, letting it slip from his grasp like his life was.

“I’m happy to do this for a little while if it means he won’t ever have access to our daughter again. The one parent rule dictates it and I can legally adopt her after. Satoru will have no parental responsibilities and he’ll have to back away.”

Hiromi frowned again, looking at the proposal. “So, you want these papers drawn up so you can divorce temporarily? Just so we’re clear.”

“Yes.” Suguru squeezed your hand. “We want to stay married, but in order to get past all this, we need to get divorced as soon as possible.”

It would give him time to bait himself into a false sense of security, it would allow you and Suguru to rip the rung from under his feet.

“It may still cost you, you know that, right? It might not cost as much as going through the family court process, but it could still end up costing you. If he thinks he has any purchase in this, he’ll grab it with everything he has. He may not have rights after, but it won’t stop him from trying.”

You shot Suguru a heartbroken glance, blinking away the tears you hoped would stay. “We know, but it’s the only way we can see us coming out with most of our family intact. This way we can control the narrative.”

Suguru tried to comfort you and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. “And when we remarry, I’ll have parental responsibility over Sakura, no matter our DNA. He won’t be able to fight it, or pay his way out of it. That is the law. He won’t have time to have significant contact with Sakura to claim anything if we act quickly… he’s only been an uncle to her so far, but that line is blurring..”

Hiromi said nothing at first, rubbing his chin to inward thoughts you couldn’t read. Silent weight loomed in the office, under the intense pressure of the loudest ticking clock you had ever heard. Each knock and second more was a blink of time in Satoru’s favour. 

“I see your point, like I said it’s unorthodox, but it should work smoothly. And you’re aware of the time period the divorce will take? The adoption?”

What a joke. Suguru having to adopt his own daughter. It made you cry more times than not over the period of the week waiting for the appointment.

Suguru nodded, keeping your hand in his. “Yeah, three months for the divorce to go through and then we can remarry. Then, the adoption proceedings. Six months or more.”

“Alright. Are you both sure? I know you’ve already filled in the mutual consent forms, but I have to confirm.”

You and Suguru nodded with a bitter taste in your mouth. “Yes. We’re sure.”

“Alright then, I’ll get this over to someone I know to do it, see if we can expedite it, they owe me a favour. But I can’t promise anything.”

Suguru stood before you did, straightening his suit jacket sleeve and offering out his hand. “Thanks, Hiromi. You’re doing us a massive favour, really.”

Hiromi shook his hand and filed away the paperwork, slipping it into his desk drawer. “It’s fine, if you need anything else, let me know and I’ll see how I can help.”

“Thank you.” You said, stepping through the office door while Suguru held it open for you.

Stepping out into the hallway may as well have been the hallway to hell. Each bang and clink of chairs on the scuffed floor, or a slammed door down the hall wailed in your ears and never stopped until you and Suguru stepped foot outside, not talking or engaging each other, or anyone else on the way down. 

Then, once the car was in sight, you stopped in your tracks, trying to hold in the shallow panicked breaths. “Oh my god… we’re getting divorced- we basically are already.”

Suguru pulled you close without issue. “Honey, you’ll always be my wife, no matter the paper. It’ll be difficult, but we have to stay strong for Sakura. Can you do that for me?”

Your legs were buckling under you. Not for a second during your pregnancy did you ever think it would end in divorce and heartbreak. Of course, you were due to be married immediately once it was finalised, but divorce was not something that occurred in your family.

“I-I have to, and I will, but fucking hell, Suguru. We were meant to be a family.”

“And we will be, I promise we will. It’s just going to take time.”

“Why- why Suguru, why are we doing it like this?”

“It’s better we have Satoru where we can see him, that way we can keep tabs on him.”

Fuck Satoru Gojo. The only good he ever did was help create Sakura, nothing more.

I wish my dad was here. He’d know what to do.

Time was a prison sentence in your own home, your own child being used as leverage. She’d sit in this self made prison with you, crying and bawling her little eyes out because her father wasn’t there.

The man she’d seen first before you, opening her tiny eyes seemingly fully aware of her surroundings, looking right at him like he was the only person in the room as he cried. The same man she enjoyed skin to skin contact with, sleeping on his chest to bond and connect.

You sniffled and pushed your face into his suit jacket. “I don’t want to take time, can’t we just run away instead? Far away from here and we-“

“Shh, shh.” He soothed you, swayed with you. “I’d love to, but our support network is here, we can’t leave them. You’re going to need them while I’m at work, especially now that I have to go away for a little while.”

“But…”

“Especially if heSatoru's making accusations of cheating. Despite it being false, it’ll still be hard to hear.” Suguru unlocked the car and pulled the door open. “We can still talk while I'm gone, we'll figure something out. I’ll move out in the morning, that way we can spend tonight as a family and I’ll go stay at my mom’s or something.”

Please, I can’t bear this.

“Stay at my mom’s, she knows what’s going on, we might be able to limit the collateral. That way, you can see Sakura more.”

“Alright. I’ll do that, if she’s alright with it.”

Suguru gently pulled away and watched you sit down, leaning over with his arm promptly resting on the open car door. You climbed in hesitantly, knowing this would be the last time for what would feel like forever.

“Of course she will be. She loves you, always asking about you before asking about me.” You chuckled at the best of a worse situation.

He smiled, shutting your door once you were comfortable and made his way to the drivers side. Once he was in, he slouched like he’d already given up. “Let’s go for a drive before we pick Sakura up from your mom’s, Hm?”

“Alright.” 

It didn’t take long to figure out where Suguru was taking you. A view point hidden away on the edge of the city, conveniently where you and he had the first official, second unofficial date.

But when the car pulled up, you had no time to reminisce.

“This is all my fault.”

“What? How?” You turned towards Suguru, tilting your head in confusion how this could possibly be his fault.

Satoru had clearly displayed that he wasn’t in the right frame of mind. Suguru didn’t do that.

“If could could have-“

“No. Don’t you do that to yourself. It’s not your fault.”

His fertility. The whole reason Satoru became involved in the first place.

“But if I could have given you a baby, we wouldn’t be going through this right now. That is true. You can’t deny that.”

Okay, you couldn’t deny that. Yet it still wasn’t his fault.

“It’s still not your fault. I don’t ever want to hear that from you again, understand?”

His head fell lower in defeat. “Okay, honey… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

You reached for his hand, exhausted and overworked, clinging to it like you’d never be fortunate to hold him again. Suguru studied your face as though he’d never see it again. Maybe you could sneak around and still see eachother? Satoru might get wise to it. You trusted that he’d be sniffing around like a moth to a flame once news of the divorce reached him. 

The last time for a while.

No time like the present. 

“Why come here?” You asked, watching the horizon over the working city, one so alive it didn’t care about the heartbreak you were about to face.

“When I thought of where to take you, this feels like home. You feel like home. It was a no brainer, really.”

You kissed your husband in that moment, softly, loving hands pressed to his chest reciprocating immediately. Hands entangled in your hair, his tongue tasting you like his last meal.

“I love you.” You breathed, tugging on his suit jacket like a lifeline.

“You’re my life.” He said back, rubbing his nose on yours and taking in your lips to memorise.

You wanted him. He wanted you.

Right here in this car, on this public view point.

Suguru didn’t hesitate until he had you up over his lap, leg either side in some contorted way the car allowed. You were worked up for the first time since your pregnancy, firmly supported by his shoulders.

“We shouldn’t- it’s only been six weeks.”

You disagreed. “Seven weeks, it’s nearly seven weeks. I’m ready, I have been for a week or so, I just wanted to follow the doctor's orders and wait.”

Suguru smiled for the first time in days, pulling at the lever of the driver's chair to lower himself down. Again, you found him studying your face, looking in your eyes and losing yourself into his purple irises.

So beautiful. 

“One time, but it’s not the last.” He said, stroking your cheek, a hand grazing your waist and fingertips so delicate they almost tickled over the material of your fitted dress, hiked up over your thighs already.

“Not the last.” 

Suguru shifted himself back, awkwardly shuffling over the seat to the back of the car. He chuckled softly, you followed like a couple of teenagers forgetting about the world with more room in the back.

“Remember our first time?” Suguru pawed at the zip on the back of your dress.

You were laughing. “Of course I do, in the old car you built with no room- how on earth did we fuck in that thing?”

He was already hard, bucking his hips against you once the top half of your dress dropped to show your bra and enlarged breasts. You ground against him too, having no sex for almost eight months did something to you. The entire time, Suguru touched himself, fucking his hand to relieve his urges and take any societal pressure from you.

But the real thing could never be replaced by a hand or silicone toy.

“Yeah, there was zero room in that. We still had fun though.”

Suguru grabbed your ass and yanked you closely, burying his face into your breasts like they’d disappear. As self conscious as you could have been, you didn’t dare say one word to ruin this moment for either of you. It felt too good.

They probably smelt like breast milk, swollen still after this morning’s pump so your daughter could bottle feed while you were away. Still, Suguru didn’t complain or whine. In fact, he buried his nose between the plush and plain material, peppering kisses so often.

“I’d let you do more with them, but I’ll leak everywhere. I just know it- fuck.” 

“Don’t care about that- god they’re beautiful.” 

No time to get self conscious. No time to waste getting fucked by your husband in public before a few hurtful months.

“Okay just- it’s going to get everywhere.”

“Don’t care.”

Your breastfeeding bra left everything to be desired. It was bland, boring and just unsightly. Yet your dear husband unclasped the right cup and pulled your leaky nipple into his mouth.

Fuck. It shouldn’t have been this emotionally charged, but it was. It turned you on more in the few seconds you watched than ever before.

Suguru didn’t say anything, his lips fully latched on to your swollen breast whilst he played with the material of your dress, then your underwear and then your sensitive clit that he hadn’t touched in months.

Too much. Far too much. Suguru’s cock twitched in his pants while you squirmed under his touch, close already.

“C’mon, Sugie, neither of us will last long, please just fuck me.”

He pulled away with a pop and let your nipple leak, milk dribbled down his chin and licked it up. 

“You’re impatient, aren��t you?” As if he wouldn’t finish quickly too.

“Just be gentle with me.”

“Of course I will.” He hurried to unbuckle his suit pants, his cock barely free from his underwear before he was pulling your own to the side to slide himself inside you slowly. 

“Oh god.” Like having sex for the first time all over again.

“So tight.” He mumbled under his breath, taking your milky nipple into his mouth again and sucking like his life depended on it.

Yeah, it wouldn’t take long for you to come, you doubted Suguru would either. Too sensitive, too emotional.

You set the pace, raising and lowering yourself onto his cock and soaking up the euphoria right into your heart and soul.

“Baby- I’m really not going to last long- shit.” 

“Don’t try to last then.” You managed to squeak out before he unclasped the cover on your other breast and sucked that one too. “That feels really good.”

“Tastes good.” 

Suguru played with your clit with the pad of his soft thumb, threatening to make you come immediately. You fought it as best you could, but the edge came closer than you realised.

“Suguru- I’m not going to-“

“Me neither.”

He let go of your nipple and kissed you, the notes of your breast milk on his lips, all buttery, mixed with his own saliva and yours. You subconsciously moved your hips with firmness, up and down, up and down until Suguru’s breathing changed. One more flick of his thumb and you were coming properly in what felt like forever, digging your nails into his shoulders and holding a silent breath.

Suguru clung to you whilst he came deep inside you, holding his own lingered breath in his chest while his cock tip spurted ropes of delicious, hot fluid you wanted to hold onto just like the memory forever ingrained in your mind.

“Fuck…” Suguru hid his face in his hands, huffing away the high. “I thought I might have lasted a little longer.”

“I thought I would come quicker, I surprised myself!” 

You laughed, more like cackled, hoping to ignore the shitstorm that approached the moment you stepped back into your moms house. Suguru joined in, his chest jerking against you with the familiarity of home.

“You surprise me all the time, and I love you so much for it.” He kissed you once more, chaste and sweet. “We’ll figure this out, honey. I’ll always be here.”

“I trust you.”

It was the only thing you could say.

Trust.

It made or broke relationships.

You prayed it wouldn’t strip you of yours.

Part 5 <- Part 6 -> Part 7

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! 🤗

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DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work thank you!

[felinisnoctis]

Primarch Time: A Surprise

Why does Guilliman have all the returned primarch fun?

I got bored. Have some reader x Lion fic. GN reader (so far, no promises). Will be NSFW and probably several other things, uh, not sure I got to any of that yet though? It developed a plot somehow, so this is Ch 1.

Will maintain a separate tag list for this so LMK if you want to be on the list after this. Current list: @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @egrets-not-regrets @nightshade-victorian @legionsofthehungry @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whatever order had been on this planet before the great rift marred the sky was long gone, and the territory was split between roving bands that clashed with each other often and harassed everyone else the rest of the time.  Some of them worshiped various strange deities.  Some still worshiped the emperor.  Some paid no heed to any powers.  Most, you thought, primarily worshiped themselves.

The one you’d escaped from claimed to be the representatives of the legitimate imperial government.  You were pretty sure there were currently at least a dozen “legitimate imperial governments” running around trying to kill each other.  It didn’t matter to you if they claimed to be the representative of the emperor reincarnated so long as they acted like the same petty assholes.  You’d had enough of having pieces of gear thrown at you to clean or clothes to wash and mend by jumped-up bullies who, if they regarded you at all, did so for no more than their own amusement or convenience.  So one night you stole one of the long knives you were supposed to be cleaning and fled into the night.

You’d made it ok enough out here.  It wasn’t great, but you’d grown up by the woods and you knew how to hide in them.  You found a patch of trees that dropped heavy nuts you could store away, and berries that you could eat in season.  There was a little stream and sometimes you caught fish from it, or snared the fat rodents that scurried along the ground, cooking them over hidden fires.  It was better than what you’d had before.

You’d heard stories of a witch-hermit out in the woods.  Taller than a mortal man, stronger, and seemingly immortal.  Sometimes you thought you saw him in the distance, a figure in muddied black armor draped over with skins.  Few people came out here, until you saw the cryptid of your childhood stories walk out with a group of strangers.

Tall, superhuman soldiers clad in black armor with a symbol on the chest - a sword flanked by wings.  Their leader was even taller.  You could see little of any of them through the armor, but he moved with a surety that left you no doubt he could snap your neck before you could even blink.  You hid in your little shelter under the brush and stayed very very still to wait for them to pass you by.

It didn’t work.  The leader pointed and a couple of heads turned to you.  Then the fur-drapes one approached your hiding place as you sprang to run away, only to be grabbed quickly and brought back, kicking and scrabbling against the armor with your blade.  

”Enough” the leader says as you're set down in the middle of the group.  He takes his helmet off; you’re almost surprised a figure that size is still human under the armor - or at least the face is.  Grey-blonde mingled hair framing an age-lined, determined face. The kind some of the church elders would probably want to model for religious artwork.

“My son here has apparently been hiding in the swamp for the last century.  Tell me about where we are.”  You gulp down your fear.  The face in front of you is calm, almost handsome, and yet something other than his size told you whatever he was, it wasn't simply a large human.

You explained as best you could about the fractured government.  How several factions claimed to be the lawful imperial government. Others made no attempt at all.

“And why are you out here hiding in the woods?” 

“Because I was tired of being used as free labor and entertainment by  whatever faction could make a grab at me first.” you said with far more venom in your voice than you realized you had.

“So I see.  Well, would you be willing to show me to one of these true imperial government outposts?”

You honestly didn't want to go back there.  Then again, you were getting tired of roast voles for dinner.  And you could do worse than returning on the arm of a tall, handsome, and definitely heavily armed man. 

“If I return they will try to reclaim me as their property.  Might even accuse you of theft, lord.”

“I’ve been accused of worse.  And I doubt they could seize you from me.” He gave a deep chuckle under his breath.

You paused to think for a moment.  “This way.”

[stonylovessteve]

2025 Creator Reveals

We’ve reached the end of the exchange and that means it’s time to reveal the creators of all our works.

Thank you for putting so much love and effort into Stony Loves Steve 2025, you really made it a great experience. We hope everyone loved it as much as we did!

Giftees, be sure to leave a comment and kudos on your gift if you haven’t already. All our creators worked hard to make this event a success, so show them some love.

You can now post your work publicly outside of the exchange. Tag it as #stonylovessteve2025 on tumblr and we’ll reblog you. @ us @stonylovessteve on twitter and we’ll retweet you.

Below the cut is the final list of all the works produced for the exchange and the creators.

Wish I Was Home With You By Now by ishipallthings for FotiBrit (MCU, 2.2k)

To his surprise, Steve shakes his head and steps closer. “I’m happy right here. I want to be here with you,” he says. Tony feels his jaw slacken in surprise, warmth flooding him at Steve’s words. In which Steve gets Asgardian drunk and can’t stop saying nice things about Tony.

it’s where we began, and what we built everything on by Thahire for meidui (MCU, 7.7k)

He tells himself it’s not a big deal, and maybe it isn’t, when he snaps a picture of the puppy and sends it to Tony, along with a quick found this little guy abandoned by the side of the road. His phone shows the message as received, which—why is Tony awake? A moment later, Steve’s phone starts ringing.

Steve finds a puppy. It changes his relationship with Tony forever.

Tie The Knot by BladeoftheNebula for Jeniouis (AU, 3.9k)

Steve is always the bonding ceremony planner, never the bonded-to-be, and he likes it that way. Really, he does.

Stay. by captainstars for FrankTheSnek (MCU, 1.8k)

Even the back of Tony’s neck is flushed, and Steve can’t bring himself to look anywhere else at the moment. He knows this is not just because Tony is going through pre-heat. It’s the fact that Tony is on the cusp of his heat, and he got into the elevator with Steve while no one else is around.

why is he wearing it??? by wingheads for dntat (616, comic)

steve just wants to find his sweater.

He Who Owns The Sky by sililoquent for BladeoftheNebula (MCU, 6k)

Steve’s an architect with opinions. Tony’s a visionary with money, bad taste, and a terrible blueprint. It’s not love at first sight, but it might be something.

when i can be brave (say we’ll be always) by xWinterDreamsx for capsicleonyourleft (616, 8k)

“Oh. He didn’t tell you?” Carol asked in surprise, putting Steve on edge. “No,” he said slowly, trying to mask the agitation he felt. It was probably nothing, just something that slipped Tony’s mind. He couldn’t think that Tony would deliberately keep something important from him. “He has a date. Seemed really excited about it too.” “Oh.”

Love Thy Neighbor by ABrighterDarkness for sadieb798 (MCU, 6k)

In hindsight, Tony wondered just how long that confidence would have lasted if not for the chance meeting and unexpected kindness of his new neighbors. Would he have held his own or would he, like Obie had sworn, come crawling back by the end of the year? If Tony was honest, he didn’t know. It was terrifying to think too hard about, frankly, and so he tried not to. For once, Tony opted to count his blessings where he could find them.

astronomy in reverse by medui for DragonoftheShadows (MCU, 10k)

Steve’s body kicks into adrenaline overload and there are a few long seconds of panic before he registers something foreign lodged against his heart. He looks down and finds a glowing blue circle in the center of his chest with a bright white triangle of light in it, and when he reaches to touch it, his hands aren’t his hands. Tan and calloused. Marred with little scars, like a mechanic or welder might have.

Baby, I'm perfect for you by dingadur for Becci_chan (MCU, 2k)

In a world where your soulmate's name appears on your skin only after you touch, Steve had all but convinced himself that a soul bond simply wasn't in the cards for him. Imagine his surprise when he discovers the name Anthony inscribed across his ribs.

Man vs. Myth by waywardmillenial for ABrighterDarkness (MCU, 5k)

There's the myth of the legendary figure that everyone expects when they think of Captain America. And then there's the truth of the man, Steve Rogers.

Hold me steady by DragonoftheShadows for xxDustNight88 (MCU, 1k)

Steve is badly injured in a battle. As Tony tries to stabilise him, both men realise they have something they want to say to the other. Things get... a bit complicated.

Why I’m Here, Why I’ve Always Been Here by FrankTheSnek for Thahire (MCU, 15k)

For Steve there had always been hidden feelings between him and Tony. Always ignored, always repressed. The war has been long over, and now all that's left is having a normal life. He wants Tony in it, but those feelings have never gone away. There are few things Steve is afraid of, but his true self is one of them. When he finally gets the courage to attempt acknowledging it—Steve has no clue what he's doing or if he can even follow through.

4 Ur Eyes Only by sadieb798 for wingheads (Ambiguous, 1k)

Steve keeps getting his husband's nudes. And it's making his life hell.

Gilded Distractions by XxDustNight88 for waywardmillenial (MCU, 2k)

While the Avengers enjoy a royal retreat in Asgard, Steve and Tony find themselves navigating unfamiliar stars, quiet truths, and the possibility of something more.

Then the Man Found Blue by Wikketkrikket for dingadur (MCU, 10k)

They call him America's Soulmate. When Steve gets the serum, he can see colours for the first time. It makes sense; Steve found his purpose in being Captain America, now he can see colour - that should be the end of it. Except, once he reaches the future, all the colours are wrong again and his assigned babysitter - one Tony Stark - definitely isn't telling him something.

The License Affair by Neverever for picturecat (AA, 2.5k)

Steve is presumed to be Tony's husband when Tony is reported to have died in an accident. But Steve can't get his body unless they are married.

The Abduction by dntat for Wikketkrikket (MCU, 2.8k)

After being abducted by aliens, Steve and Tony have to undergo three trials to make it back home. Steve's not sure if he's going to make it.

Mondays Are Ours by becci_chan for ishipallthings (MCU, 4.5k)

After working for years in a bar, Steve was sure he’d seen and heard everything, met all kinds of people. Honestly, Steve didn’t think he could be surprised anymore during one of his shifts – the night shift, as usual. He looked up and had to admit that he was surprised. Tony Stark of all people was not who he had expected on a random Monday night. Especially not in his business attire.

missing each other by FotiBrit for sililoquent (MCU, 9k)

Nobody gets to decide when two people stop loving each other. Not even when one of them breaks off the relationship.

The Red Dot by capsicleonyourleft for Neverever (616, 6k)

Art is both Steve’s refuge and his most terrifying act of truth-telling. When a mysterious buyer begins collecting his art, it threatens to expose pieces of himself he doesn't want known.

I hope you understand (there's a reason why) by picturecat for captainstars (MCU, 2.5k)

Kamala ships it. Nadia is curious about the social sciences. Miles does not want to get yelled at. Steve is just trying to take a road trip.

Better Than Shield by Jeniouis for xWinterDreamsx (MCU, 4.7k)

Steve is adjusting to civilian life now that he's retired. Doesn't mean he doesn't still care about his team.

[obsob]

the accolade ( the...the cat-olade...)