#so sweet and pure enough to rid all the rage

[avatardoggo]

rizzo is to gonzo what gonzo is to the rest of the muppet cast

[luvyblossom]

Love me (not) Pt. 4

Hello Lovelies,

Here is the long awaited part 4. I've been swamped with me thesis :( (I'm still not done.) I tried to proofread it but my eyes are tired so excuse any typos. This is a spicy chapter so MDNI. As always, my requests are open and let me know what you think!

Enjoy!

W/c: 6.7k

Pairing: reader x Hyunjin, reader x Felix

Warnings: this fic contains sexual content. MDNI

Series Masterlist

content tags: smut, fluff, college!au, nonidol!au, jealousy, use of red light system, rough sex, unprotected piv (wrap it before you tap it), alcohol,

I think that's it. let me know if I missed anything

______________

"See you tonight," Felix gave you a quick peck on the cheek before leaving you at your usual study spot.

You smiled at him and waved bye as you sat down across from Hyunjin. He rolled his eyes at you and mock-threw up. "Stop that," you playfully hit his arm.

“You’re busy tonight?” Hyunjin tried to sound casual about it. This was the fourth night in a row where you had plans with Felix. He barely has time with you nowadays except for your study sessions that Felix could no longer attend because of his taekwondo practice. It took everything within him to tolerate Felix but he didn’t want to lose what little time he did get with you.

“Yeah we’re going out for dinner,” you answered, taking out your books. Exams were coming up so you had been trying to keep up with all your work.

"What time do you think you'll get home tonight?" Hyunjin asked for purely selfish reasons. He felt reassured that you had not spent a night with Felix, always coming home alone after your dates. Not that he really cared about your sex life- he assured himself. No, he didn’t care but he didn’t like Felix and he didn’t want him touching you.

"You can't stay over," you hastily said. After every one of your dates, you had come home to Hyunjin waiting for you, ready to take his spot next to you in bed. You were grateful that Felix was not the jealous type because you often had guys who had wanted to choose between Hyunjin and them. Hyunjin always won.

“Why not?”

“Cause I may not be coming home alone tonight,” you giggled. You appreciated how sweet Felix was but you had been dating for long enough and you were starting to get impatient. Your makeout sessions were getting more and more handsy and always left you wanting more. You had the cutest lingerie picked out for tonight and you hoped that you wouldn't be left wanting more once again.

Hyunjin glared at you, his jaw tensing at your words. "Why exactly won't you be coming home alone tonight?"

"Um cause Felix might stay over," you gave a questioning look to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin willed himself to see past his rage. If he said anything it would just cause another argument between the two of you. He started packing up his stuff and got up.

"Where are you going?" You asked.

"I have to meet up with someone." He said coldly and started walking away before you could say anything.

——————

You opened your door to let Felix in. He handed you a bouquet of flowers. He’d been getting you some every week so you never had a day your vase went empty. “I’m almost ready,” you smiled at him as you picked a pair of heels to slip on.

“You look beautiful as always, Love,” he kissed you on the cheek as he held out his hand so you could walk out together. You took his hand, blushing at the nickname he had taken to calling you. Since you and Felix had officially started seeing each other, your moments with him left you nervous, heart beating fast, and trying to overcome the butterflies that erupted whenever he touched you.

Felix wore a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up perfectly displaying his forearms. You admired the veins popping from his arm as he gripped the steering wheel, following one vein down to his hands. You began to imagine how those hands would look wrapped around your neck. You shook your head to get rid of the thought. Being with Felix recently had been mostly frustrating. Here was a gorgeous man and after spending time with him and with your make-out sessions getting more and more intense, all you wanted was for him to pin you down and fuck you.

Tonight you dressed as sexy as possible. Everything was shaved and you had on the cutest black lacy lingerie under your skimpy dress. You sat across the table from Felix, once again lost in the thought of his toned arms and his fingers, the ways he could use them. You managed to get through most of your dinner joking around with Felix, allowing you some reprieve from your earlier thoughts but you hadn't forgotten about your plan.

“What’s on your mind?” Felix asked pulling you out of your daze.

You looked at him, summoning all of your confidence you said, “Nothing, just thinking about all the things you could do to me for dessert.” You gulped, trying to battle the nerves that arose from your statement as you waited for his reaction.

Felix coughed, choking on the sip he had just taken of his drink. He looked at you in awe, not used to you being so blatant. You had been very shy since the night you both watched the sunset. Felix had only been encouraged to take things even slower with you. He adored how shy you would get, only making him want you more, but he hadn't wanted to push you. This was a new side to you that he was seeing, "What's gotten into you, love?"

Instead of replying you kicked your heel off, his reaction fuelling your confidence. You traced your foot up his calf under the table, earning a surprised look from him. His look quickly turned to a smirk as he leaned across the table to whisper, "You’re being really naughty today baby. Are you sure you can take the punishment?”

You weren’t sure if it was his deep voice or his words, probably a bit of both, but it sent a chill up your spine. You could feel the heat from your core rising to your cheeks to cover them with a blush. You were grateful when Felix waved over the waiter and asked for the cheque so you could finally leave the restaurant. Your panties were already wet as you climbed into his car. Your heart was beating in anticipation as Felix drove.

The hand that he had placed on your exposed thigh was beginning to inch upwards. You were craving his touch as his fingers pressed up your thigh, giving your flesh a little squeeze. Finally, his hand reached your panties but instead of touching you where you needed him, he fluttered his fingers on the edge of your underwear. You let out an embarrassing whine asking for more.

“What is it, baby? Can’t be patient?” Felix teased. You squirmed in your seat as you continued to soak through your panties. Felix chuckled as he kept teasing, slipping one finger under your panties. “Fuck.” Felix groaned, “You’re already so wet for me.”

“Please,” you were shamelessly begging him now for some stimulation. Felix continued to trace the outside of your labia while you bucked up, trying to get more stimulation than he was willing to give.

Felix clicked his tongue when he felt your hips jerk, moving his hand away from your pussy to trace up to your chest. Your dress had been far too revealing to wear a bra so Felix was easily able to trace over your hardening nipples through the thin fabric. He pulled more moans from you when he pinched the sensitive buds. You tried to snake your hand down to provide yourself some relief but you were too slow. Felix quickly grabbed your hand, "You've already been so naughty, Love. Are you sure you want to add to your punishment?"

You gave him a pleading look to no avail. Any ounce of dignity you had disappeared as you begged the gorgeous man sitting next to you for just a single touch. Felix was kind enough to bring his fingers back to your core, letting his fingers lightly trace over your clit. He began to tease one finger at your entrance. "Felix, please."

He smirked at you, "What is it, baby?"

"I want you to fuck me." If words could make a man cum, those words would be enough for Felix to bust. He tried to keep his composure as he searched for a place he could pull over. He had wanted to wait until you both were home, but at this rate with the way your words dripped with lust, he didn't think he could last for the entire drive.

Felix located an empty parking lot and pulled the car in. You climbed onto his lap as soon as he shifts into park. Felix giggles, "You're so impatient"

Before he can let another word out, you crash your lips onto his pulling him into a deep and messy kiss. His tongue traces your lips and you give him entrance letting him deepen the kiss further. You both swallow each other's moans and you begin to grind down on his hardened length over his pants. You both gasped in harmony, finally feeling the friction you needed.

Felix's hands were all over you, feeling every curve of your body as you continued to grind down on him. He squeezed your ass before tracing over your back to resume playing with your nipples. He pushed the straps of your dress off of your shoulders, allowing the flimsy material to fall and reveal your bare breasts to him. He just stared.

"What is it?" you started to feel a bit self-conscious under his gaze.

He managed to peel his eyes away from your chest, looking up at you with lustful eyes, "You're so fucking hot."

You blushed at the comment. A moan left your lips as you felt Felix latch his puffy lips onto your nipple while pinching the other one between his fingers. You couldn't get enough of him. You started to clumsily unbutton his shirt until you reached the waistband of his pants. You took your time unbuttoning his pants and lowering the zipper. You pulled out his painfully hard cock, admiring how much precum was dripping out of him. You wrapped your fingers around him and rubbed his precum over his tip using your thumb.

'He's so tall and handsome as hell.He's so bad, but he does it so well,'

Felix groaned as he felt your fingers wrap around him. He brought his lips to your neck, nipping and kissing all the sensitive spots he's mapped on you, and brought his finger back down to your sopping pussy.

'I can see the end as it begins, my one condition is,'

You slowly began to stroke his length as you felt his finger push into you. He fucked his finger in and out of you before adding a second finger in.

'Say you'll remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe.'

The car was filled with moans as you ground down on his hand, riding his fingers and feeling his palm brush against your clit. He bucked his hips, trying to fuck your hand. Between moans, you whispered in his ear, "I want to feel you inside me."

'Red lips and rosy cheeks.Say you'll see me again,'

Felix quickly pulled his fingers out of you and lined up his throbbing cock with your entrance. He slid his length along your wet folds, making you jolt as he rubbed his tip over your clit. He began to tease your entrance with his tip

'Even if it's just in your wildest dreams.'

You froze, finally taking notice of the music. You almost ignored it, but you knew your mind would wander if you didn't acknowledge it. You looked apologetically at your boyfriend, "I'm sorry baby. I just need a second."

You reached over to the passenger seat, grabbed your phone, and answered the call, knowing who it would be before you picked on account of the special ringtone you'd assigned to him. "This better be important." The words came out in a whimper as you felt Felix's tip enter you.

"Y/n?" his words slurred, giving away how drunk he was. "I was scared you wouldn't pick up," you heard his voice break as he said these words.

Worry clouded your eyes as you placed a hand on Felix's chest to signal him to stop his movement. "Hyune, what's wrong? Are you okay? Do you need me, tell me what I can do," the questions frantically spilled from your mouth. Hyunjin barely cried, there was something wrong.

"I miss you-" his sentence was cut off as you heard him gagging.

Another voice was on the line now, "It's Chris. Are you able to make it over? He's a mess, almost and he won't listen to us, he's been begging to talk to you."

"Yes. I'll be there soon." You hung up the call. Your heart which was racing because of Felix just a minute ago was now pounding in your chest as you worried about your best friend.

Felix looked at you with a fallen expression that he was trying to conceal, "where do you need to be?"

"Can you take me to Hyunjin's?" You moved back to the passenger seat when Felix nodded yes. Both of you tried to look decent and then were back on the road. You looked straight out of the windshield, nervously chewing on your fingernails. Your attention was distracted for a second as you felt Felix's hand wrap around yours and give it a reassuring squeeze.

"What's going on baby?" He asked between clenched teeth, knowing that whatever was going on was because of Hyunjin. He tried to keep his cool, always reminding himself that you were dating him and not Hyunjin. You had chosen him. But damn Hyunjin was starting to really get on his nerves. This better have been important because if his date had been ruined over a tantrum, Felix would have some choice words for him. The only thing that had held him back until now had been his respect for you and not wanting to appear too possessive and controlling.

You were too lost in your thoughts to recognize Felix's rage. "I'm not quite sure, Hyunjin is a drunk mess and he sounded so upset. Apparently, he's not listening to anyone and was asking for me. I should've noticed that something was wrong. He's been a bit distant lately and he left so abruptly. I should've asked him what was bothering him." You felt so guilty for not being there for him. He knew how to party but Hyunjin rarely let himself get wasted. And allowing himself to cry in front of others, there had to be something really wrong.

You almost shot out of your seat as you neared the familiar house. Whatever event had been going on had started to die down by the time you reached. You smiled over at Felix giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, "I'm so lucky to have you. Thank you. I promise I'll make it up to you."

Felix's heart softened with your gaze, allowing him to momentarily calm down his anger, "Of course Love. No matter how late it is, please call me for a ride home. You can also stay over at mine if it's too late."

You gave him another smile before saying your goodbyes and rushing into the house and up the stairs. You turned the corner into the bathroom and found Han, Changbin, and Jeongin crowding at the entrance. You pushed past the familiar faces of Hyunjin's frat brothers to find him with half-closed eyes sitting on the floor with his legs splayed out in front of him and leaning against the toilet. A very concerned-looking Chris sat next to him, trying to get him to drink some water.

You squatted down in front of Hyunjin, taking one of his hands into yours, "Hyune, I'm here."

Hyunjin gazed at you through his lashes, giving you a sleepy smile. You could see where the tears had stained his face, eliciting a pang of pain deep in your stomach. You never liked to see Hyunjin upset.

He turned his hand so that he could intertwine his fingers between yours. He pulled you towards him, causing you to lose your balance and land awkwardly on his lap with your face in his chest. He held you tight against him in a big bear hug, making it difficult to move.

“Fuck.” You heard Chris curse. This was followed by 'ooohhhs' and 'you're in trouble now' by the rest of the boys who were still in the bathroom. You tried to pry your head out and see what the commotion was about. You looked up to see Chris, dripping from the water that he had been trying to coax Hyunjin to drink, likely as a result of Hyunjin pulling you. Somehow the water had avoided the both of you, landing only on Chris. You let out a giggle, enticing the rest of the room to burst into laughter as well, including Hyunjin. Chris gave him a small punch in the arm, it seemed innocent but considering his physique, you were sure it must have hurt a little.

Hyunjin let out a dramatic cry, "Owwwwww, Y/n he's hurting me."

You were relieved, happy to hear Hyunjin return to himself after the sad state you had heard him in earlier. "I think you deserved it. Now let me go."

"Never." Hyunjin let out a contented sigh, holding you even tighter as you struggled.

"You boys could help me," your voice came out muffled as your face pressed into his chest. Changbin and Jeongin fought with Hyunjin managing to help you escape from his grasp. You looked down at Hyunjin, still slumped over on the floor. “Do you feel better? Are you done throwing up?”

He nodded yes, briefly lifting his head, his face covered in a pout after your great escape. 

You turned to the boys, “Changbin help me get him up, Han and Jeongin grab him some food and water. ” You didn’t do much to help Changbin drag Hyunjin to his room. Hyunjin groaned when Changbin tossed him onto the bed, rolling over onto his side. The boys had already put a couple of slices of pizza on his side table. 

You sat down next to Hyunjin, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “Hyune, get up. You should eat something and then you can get some rest.”

“I don’t wanna,” he was still pouting. 

“Okay, then I’m gonna go since you don’t need my help,” you teased. 

He reluctantly sat up, facing you and opening his mouth, expecting you to feed him. 

“You’re such a baby,” you teased him while you fed him. You handed him a water bottle after he was done. “Drink, I’m gonna get something to clean you up a bit.” Hyunjin complied and you returned with his toothbrush and a warm washcloth to wipe his face. You went into his closet, picking out some sleep clothes for him. “You need to change into PJs.”

Hyunjin just lifted his arms, “I’m too tired, I need help.” His words were still slurred. 

“You’re wearing a button down you idiot,” you said as you pushed his arms back down. You began to unbutton the black shirt he wore, giggling when Hyunjin squirmed when your light touches tickled him. Your breath hitched when you had finished unbuttoning the shirt. It had been a while since you had seen him like this. Had he been working out? He had a perfectly toned torso with washboard abs. You helped him slip off the shirt, not failing to notice his muscular arms. 

“Stop staring,” Hyunjin’s words brought you back from your daze. “Pervert!!” Hyunjin covered his chest with his arms. 

You just rolled your eyes, slipping the t-shirt over his head. “I am not changing your pants for you.” You turned around to give him some sort of privacy. You could hear the struggle as he tried to change his clothes while drunk. “Are you done? Are you okay?”

“I did it,” you turned to see Hyunjin on the floor again, now wearing his pajama bottoms and grinning proudly. You helped him back into bed, settling him under his blanket before picking up his clothes and tossing them into the hamper. You moved the garbage bin next to his bed, just in case he did feel sick.

“Are you comfy?” Hyunjins hummed contently. “Okay. Goodnight, I’ll check in on you tomorrow okay?”

Hyunjin slightly got up from his comfy position, “can’t you stay? Please stay.”

It was pretty late, and you were tired after helping him into bed. “Okay, I’ll stay, lie down I’m just gonna take a shower.” You went and grabbed yourself one of his t-shirts to change into, and a towel before going in to take a hot shower. The shirt covered more on you than your dress had so you didn’t feel the need to wear sweats. With how much heat radiated off of Hyunjin you would be sweating anyway. You climbed into bed next to Hyunjin expecting him to be asleep already. You sat up and opened up the book you’d been working your way through on your phone, not quite ready to fall asleep yet. Hyunjin felt you getting settled, he moved towards you, placing his head in your lap, and wrapping an arm around you.

“I thought you were asleep,”

“I am,” Hyunjin said with his eyes closed. You laughed, running your fingers absentmindedly through his hair. You felt Hyunjin’s hand on your exposed thigh, rubbing small circles along your leg. You could feel that familiar tingly sensation beginning to form. You grabbed his hand, hoping to stop whatever was going through your mind. You chalked it up to you being a little extra sensitive because of your unfinished business with Felix earlier in the night, choosing to move on from how Hyunjin’s hands had just sent sparks through your body. 

Hyunjin wrapped your fingers in his hand, “your hands are always so cold.” Both of you sat happily in silence as you kept reading through your book. 

“I love you,” Hyunjin interrupted the silence with his slurred words. You looked towards him, finding him looking back at you. 

You gave him a warm smile that truly came from within, his words warming you up. “I love you too Hyune.”

“You do?” He looked at you with wide eyes, looking like a kid at that moment. 

“Of course I do. You’re my best friend,”

Hyunjin settled his head back down in your lap, closing his eyes with his lips forming a small smile. “You shouldn’t love too many people, it’ll get diluted.”

“Hyune, that's not how it works. You can love lots of people, there’s not a limit.”

“It’s less special then.”

You giggled, hearing his childish tone as he tried to argue with you, “You’re very special to me. Don’t worry.”

“Okay.” He seemed happy with your answer. 

----

You woke up well before Hyunjin. Still tired from the late night, you decided to enjoy the warmth of bed a little longer, scrolling through insta on your phone. Hyunjin clung to you as usual so it wasn’t like you could move anyway and you didn’t want to wake him. You were momentarily released as Hyunjin turned, allowing you to get up and grab a glass of water and painkiller for Hyunjin before settling back into the warm covers. 

Hyunjin peaked at you through squinted eyes and groaned, “Why do I feel like shit?”

You handed Hyunjin water and the painkiller. He sat up a bit, gladly accepting it. “You were so needy last night,” you teased him. 

Hyunjin’s head snapped to look at you, “what?” He said nervously, still blurry on the details of the night before. He wasn’t sure if he had said something stupid in front of you. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, “I forgive you for taking me away from my date night.” You had mistaken his nervousness for guilt over his actions. You turned to look at him as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. His hair was a mess and his face was scrunched up. 

“Why are you staring at me?” Hyunjin said. 

“You are just so cute,” you pinched his cheek as he gave you a death glare. 

“I’m not cute, I’m sexy.” You just giggled at his response, reaching to pinch his cheek once again. This time he grabbed your hand before you could get to him. His other hand began to tickle you. 

“Hyunjin noooo!” you screamed between your tortured giggles.

“I’ll stop if you say Hyunjin you’re so sexy” You shook your head in refusal, unable to get words out at this point. You tried to use your free hand to tickle him back but soon lost that too. Hyunjin easily pinned both of your hands above you as he continued to tickle mercilessly. “All you have to do is say it.”

You kicked your legs, still trying to win. Finally succeeding, you knocked Hyunjin’s knee. He lost balance and his tickling hand landed beside your head as he stopped himself from falling onto you, his face just inches away from yours. You should have moved but you were frozen in place, the only thought in your mind was the way you could feel his breath fan against you. Hyunjin loosened his grasp on your hands, allowing you to free your hands but you didn’t move. You were drowning in his dark eyes as your heart thumped, loud enough that it drowned out any sound around you. 

Hyunjin was the first to move, clearing his throat and sitting up, letting go of your hands completely. You were still frozen in place, trying to get your brain to become functional again. You managed to croak out, “Breakfast?”

Hyunjin, already red-faced after getting a look at you, turned his head to look away from you, “Um-uh do you want pants?”

It was your turn to blush. The little tickle fight had left you disheveled with the t-shirt you wore riding up your stomach, exposing your very skimpy underwear. You scrambled to cover yourself, wanting to die from shame and cursing yourself for not wearing pants. “Yes please,” you squeaked out. Hyunjin quickly climbed off the bed, quickly tossing a pair of sweatpants your way before walking out of the room and closing the door to give you some privacy. You whisper-screamed into a pillow trying to figure out how you could be around Hyunjin after exposing yourself like that. After taking a couple more minutes to wallow, you slipped on the sweats and made your way downstairs to the kitchen. You were a bit relieved to not see Hyunjin there. Instead, you saw Chris working away to cook breakfast and the boys fooling around at the table. 

“Good morning,” you said as you took a seat next to Seungmin. 

“How do you want your eggs?” Chris asked from the kitchen. 

“Scrambled please.”

“How was your date?” Seungmin teased you.

“So did you two finally make it official?” Han piped up before you could say anything.

You nodded your head, a bit surprised that Han knew about you and Felix.

“Really? We thought so because Hyunjin hasn’t had anyone around in a while but we haven’t seen you either so we weren’t sure,” Jeongin added. 

“I don’t know why he’s been such an ass recently then. You gotta make him more cheerful Y/n,” Changbin added. 

The boys spoke so fast that it took you a second to process the conversation. “No, I’m dating-” you were interrupted as Hyunjin entered the room and loudly pulled out the chair at the edge of the table closest to you. “Felix” you finished after he sat down. “The date was good but cut short,” you answered Seungmin, glancing over at Hyunjin. 

Chris came in, balancing plates with food for everyone. Everyone said their thank yous and began to dig in. “We need to figure out where we’re staying this spring,” Chris said as he took a seat as well. He was referring to a spring break trip they had been planning and you’d been invited to as well. 

“Are you going to bring your boyfriend?” Han looked at you. The rest of the boys followed with ‘oohhs’ making you blush. 

“I think I will. If he’s not busy we can add him to the list.” Hyunjin choked on his food while you were talking. You patted his back hoping to ease his coughing. “How are you feeling?”

“Gross,” Hyunjin managed to croak out between coughs. 

The rest of breakfast was spent planning out more trip specifics. You headed back to your place after, needing a shower and to prepare a sorry for Felix after last night. 

----

You were greeted by Minho when you got to Felix’s. Instead of a greeting he let you in and pointed to Felix’s room. You walked in and saw Felix sitting in front of his computer with his headphones on and entranced with whatever game he was playing. Not wanting to bother him, you took a seat on his bed, putting your sorry gift on his side table. 

You were startled as you heard Felix scream. He took off his headphones and said, “When did you get here?”

“A bit ago. I brought sorry lemon squares,” you pointed to this dish on his table. 

Felix came to sit next to you in his bed, pulling you close to him, “You didn’t have to do that baby. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“You’re sweet but I am sorry for ditching our date. Thank you for being so understanding,” you rested your head on his chest.

“There is one thing bothering me,” Felix said hesitantly.

Concern clouded your eyes as you looked at him, “what is it?”

“Did you go home all alone? Did you get a ride from someone else? You didn’t ask me for a ride and I was worried. It’s not safe for you to be walking so late at night.”

“I’m sorry. I should have texted you, I thought you were asleep already. I didn’t go home alone. It was late so I just ended up staying there. I really am sorry, I’m not that used to having people worry about me.”

Felix didn’t feel all that great about you staying the night in a frat house but he decided to hold his tongue, not wanting to sound jealous. “It’s okay baby,” Felix gave you his warm smile letting you know he meant it. “How was Hyunjin?” He asked, knowing he didn’t care about that but wanted to know what exactly had happened that would justify cutting your night short. 

“He was just drunk and upset. I think he just wanted a friend nearby. But there is something wrong. He just isn’t telling me what it is yet. Even the rest of the guys said he’s been off recently but I guess he’ll tell me when he’s ready.”

“Do you know all of those guys well?” Felix pried. 

“I’m not super close with them all. Seungmin and I are pretty good friends but I know the rest of them,” you answered. “Oh, that reminds me. Do you have any plans for spring break?”

“Nothing solid, what were you thinking of?”

“The guys have been planning a trip for ages, will you come with me?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to spend the time with anyone other than my girl.” His words made you blush. Felix had taken to calling you sweet nicknames pretty early on but this was the first time he had called you ‘his girl.’

“Stop it. You’re making me shy,” you hid your face in his chest. 

Felix reached for your chin, pointing your face up so you would look at him. He placed a soft kiss on your lips before peppering your face with kisses, “You’re so cute.”

Felix and you settled in his bed, deciding to watch a movie. Just as you had picked one you heard a familiar song playing. 

“Hey, did you get some rest?” You answered the call.

“Yeah, what are you doing?” Hyunjin said, still sounding a bit groggy like he had just woken up. 

“I’m over at Felix’s.”

Hyunjin let out a dramatic sigh, “will you ever have time for me again?”

You tsked at him, giggling at his antics, “You get most of my time. Let’s plan something though, if you feel neglected.”

“Do I need to call your secretary to schedule Ms. L/n?” Hyunjin replied sarcastically.

“Okay grumpy, I left a treat for you in the fridge so hopefully that’ll put you in a good mood.” You had stopped by Hyunjin's on your way over, hoping that your lemon squares would help brighten his mood.

Hyunjin sounded a bit perked up, “Did you make my favorite?”

“Yes, I did. I made extra for the boys so share!” You heard Hyunjin grumble a bit about sharing but he reluctantly agreed. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, bye-bye.” He hung up before you could confirm if you were free.

“He really likes interrupting us,” Felix huffed out when you hung up the call.

“I think he’s not used to having to share my time,” you gave Felix a peck on the cheek. “You’re sounding a bit jealous,” you teased. 

Felix looked at you with darkened eyes, causing the grin to fall from your face. “You have no idea. He gets most of your time?” Felix asked deeply. 

Your mouth was dry, unable to answer the question as you took in his new demeanor. 

Felix gripped your chin once again, this time much more roughly than before. Bringing his face close to yours he said, “I don’t want to share you, baby.” His voice was so low, every word sending shivers down your spine. His face was so close to yours that his lips ghosted over yours with every word. You tried to reach up to close the very small distance between the two of you but Felix roughly held you in place. “Are you impatient now princess? What about last night? You didn’t have an issue then.” Felix drew a bit away from your face to lock his eyes with yours. “Do you want to make it up to me, love?” You gulped and gave him a steady nod, studying his dark eyes that were flooded with lust. Felix placed a chaste kiss on the side of your mouth before whispering in your ear, “Green for keep going, yellow means this is good but no more, and red for stop,” the tickle of his breath stimulated you more, a wet spot forming in your panties. “Is it okay if we keep going?” Felix pulled away to look at you and you nodded. “I need your words, baby.”

“Green.” That was all it took. Felix crashed his lips onto yours, pulling you into a messy kiss. His hands were quick to explore your body, slipping under your shirt and tracing over your lace-covered breasts. 

He pulled away from you, “off.” He helped you tug your shirt and pants off leaving you in the pretty lace lingerie you had selected. Felix looked you up and down hungrily before positioning himself on top of you and kissing your neck. You moaned as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, definitely leaving a mark behind. You tugged at his t-shirt, feeling like it was a bit unfair that he was still fully clothed. Felix ripped off his shirt and pants, returning between your spread legs and continuing his kisses along your collarbone. He kissed down to your clothed breasts, sucking on your nipple over the lace. You let out whimpers at the sensation, moving your hips up to grind against the bulge visible in his boxers.

Felix groaned at the friction but quickly moved his hands to pin your hips down, “you just keep being such a bad girl. Don’t you realize you’re in trouble?” 

You screamed as he delivered a firm slap to your clothed pussy before resting his hand on the lace, running his index finger gently over the wet fabric of your panties. You shuddered at the light touches, “Please Felix? Let me make it up to you. Stop teasing me.”

“Yeah?” he groaned out in that low voice. He stood up, getting off the bed and motioning you over him. You scrambled up and stood in front of him. He let a chuckle out at your eagerness. “Kneel.”

You dropped to your knees, now eye level with his bulge. He pulled his boxers down and his dick sprung out, hitting his stomach. His tip was leaking and behind the facade Felix felt like he could cum just from the way you sat with your mouth hanging open, waiting for him to fuck your face. He tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling it so your hungry gaze was drawn away from his cock and you had to look at his face. His dark eyes softened for a second, “tap on my thigh if it's too much.” 

Felix pushed his tip into your mouth, slowly sinking deeper until you felt him at the back of your throat. You wrapped your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and pressing your tongue on his length. Felix moaned lowly, pulling out of you. When he didn’t immediately thrust back into your mouth, you leaned forward, taking him into your mouth. “Fuck, baby,” Felix’s moans continued as you bobbed your head on his cock, taking him deep into your throat. You gagged around him as he started thrusting harder, fucking your face. Your eyes teared and you drooled around his dick. Felix took in the sight of you, roughly yanking your mouth off his dick by pulling your hair. 

You stared up at him, pupils wide and consumed with lust. Your panties stuck to your core, you were practically dripping on the floor now. “I want you to cum in my mouth baby.”

Felix pulled you up, bringing his lips close to your ear he whispered, “I don’t think you’ve been nearly good enough to be making requests. On the bed, now.”

You quickly followed his command, eagerly waiting for him to touch you. You needed to be touched so badly. Felix pulled you to the edge of the bed so that your legs hung down. He knelt before you, face so close to where you wanted him most. “You want me to touch you, baby?”

“Yes, please. I need it,” you begged him. You gasped as you felt him lick a stripe along your clothed pussy, bucking your hips trying to prolong the contact. 

“You’re such a slut. So wet just from sucking dick.” Felix licked you once again, treacherously slow. You were writhing, begging him continuously to give you more. Finally, he ripped off your panties, tossing them across the room. He ran a finger through your wet folds, flicking your clit in the process. This was enough to cause you to jolt. Felix continued the motion with his finger, slowly flicking your clit and watching you jolt each time. You could feel the heat pooling but his slow motions weren't enough to make you cum. 

“Please, I’m good, I’ll be good just fuck me, please,” you begged shamelessly. 

Felix finally relented, grabbing a condom from the drawer of his side table and rolling it on. He lined himself up with your entrance. He wanted to tease you further but he needed to feel you around him. He thrust into you, filling you up and stretching your walls. Your walls spasmed around him and he stilled for a moment, letting you get used to him but also warding off his orgasm which he knew would come embarrassingly fast if he didn’t pace himself. 

He began fucking into you, moving slowly at first as you still adjusted to the way he stretched your walls. You were a mess of moans, not letting out anything coherent. He quickened his pace, bringing his hand down to rub circles around your clit, pushing you closer to your orgasm. 

“Are you gonna be good? Are you gonna cum on my cock?” 

You moaned out a string of ‘yes’ as you felt your orgasm approach. Your body spasmed as he fucked you through your high, coming shortly after with his hips stuttered. Both of you panted, recovering from your orgasms. 

Felix joined you on the bed, pulling your tired body into his arms and gently kissing you. He pulled away and looked at you. He really looked at you, eyes locked with yours as if he was trying to peer into your soul. 

“What is it?” You asked under his intense gaze. 

“I love you.”

_____________

End of Part 4

This is an original work. Do not republish or repost this work in any form, including translations.

©LuvyBlossom

taglist: @mimihwang248 @meeeds @lixiespick @fangirlnation @chartrucewhore @karmakalesposts

[venusandsaturnsrings]

okay, venus, now imagine that puppytaru has a rival! let's just say it could be another puppy or a person.

ah, my hands shake so much when i think about how pathetic he can be when he's jealous. when you bring another man into your house, puppytaru is so furious :( his sweet little owner treated him so cruelly and his little heart broke into pieces. he just loves you so much and wants to be your only lover. :((

he wants to be the only one who loves you. the only one who protects you. and the only one who fucks you. why did you replace him with someone else? did he misbehave? he will do anything for you, you just say!! he will cook dinner, he will clean the house, he will fuck you so fucking good, but just don't let anyone else touch you :(((

he sees you hugging another man, and he beats his body against the kennel to get to him and tear him apart with his teeth. at this point you might think about how cute he is. he cries and whimpers, his pitiful meow coming from the kennel. he bares his teeth and claws trying to open this fucking kennel when he sees how a man touches you with his lips.

he only dreams of tearing a man to shreds and then fucking you next to that useless piece of meat. his cock is aching and all he wants now is to get rid of the pest as soon as possible and fuck you well. <3

///

mmhmhmmhm venus it's me again (<3 anon with breeding kink lmao. that sounds stupid. so you can call me cat anon) i have so much brain rot with puppy/fox taru. and i hope you don't mind it. because i love this protective jealous type so much omg i'm in love with it and i hope you understand why i'm so horny :(((

cat anon!! hehe that’s the cutest i love cats!! i have a cat her name is olive :3 but i’m also allergic to cats… i survive on pure love and spite!! she’s my baby :3

wehhhh jealous puptaru :(( no matter which childe i talk or think about, he always has a nasty jealous streak!! it’s in his overwhelmingly protective nature to keep you safe and away from anyone else but, especially from other men.

it takes him time to warm up to each of your friends, he’s always trying to figure out if they’re a threat or not, but this guy… is different. puptaru can tell he’s into you!! why else would he be touching you like that or kissing your cheek as a goodbye? he must be trying to take you away!! what an evil fella >:( you already have someone, a doggy who will do anything for you!! throw away that guy you don’t need him!!

try as you might, he’ll never take kindly to any sort of rival. he’s already declared you as his mate so he believes he’s well within his rights to try and tear this guy to bits. puptarus teeth are no joke!! if he got close enough, he could shred this guy in a couple of bites. keep him in his kennel and he’s growling and shouting to be let out, clawing at the grates desperately to just kill this man who thinks he can take you away. no amount of reassuring can quell his need to dispose of him. certainly don’t cheap out on his kennel if you want to keep him safe, puptaru is strong and can bust anything sloppily made open if he tries hard enough.

gets a raging boner thinking about breeding you next to a rivals corpse. it’s like… a posthumous ‘fuck you’ to whomsoever it is; a true mark of mutual ownership. lets be honest, he owns you just as much as you own him. only difference is he’s wearing a collar but sometimes he thinks about getting you one too. yknow, just to really drive the message home.

[bluwrites]

Sweet Indulgence

TW! GORE, CANNIBALISM, MURDER, PRE-CANON

Bg3 Half Elf Drow! Durge x Gortash (not smut, but still nsfw)

Durge has a described appearance but no name. Gif is not mine, the owner is @guccialli. I'll probably revisit this in the future and add to the gore factor of the projection and killing of the boy 🤷‍♂️ (on ao3)

AO3 link and tags for those I know might want to see this: @qiific3 @sycophantofbane

Purple hands covered in red splendor, heavy breaths from the mouth of sharp teeth, and peppered hair full of knots atop their head. Orangey red eyes stared into the dark room in front of them and behind their back held in tight hands, a gift. He lay in bed without a hint of knowing what’s to come. His short dark hair splayed across the pillow, his breaths even and calm, a blanket protecting him from the shroud of evil at his door. Enver, a beauty to behold by their eyes, only them.

They stepped across the threshold and into his room, eyes never straying from their prey as they advanced. Skillfully they avoided the creaking floorboards as they stepped closer. The gift in their hands dripped with gore, the blood souring the rug on the floor. They could care no more for the rug, having told him many times to get rid of it before.

Standing in front of him in his bed they crouched to eye level, admiring the young man as he slept. All signs of his usual malice and neediness gone as his mind kept its comatose trance. They reached a bloody hand out to brush away his messy hair and hoped he would not stir. Before placing his gift upon his bedside table, they pressed a gentle kiss to his head, one light enough to not stir even the most skittish of mice.

Retreating to the doorway once more, they whispered a sweet nothing to him “When the sun rises I shall fall and you’ll wake to find my love for you, dear Enver. Goodnight.” The door then closed and enveloped the room in pure inky blackness and the sound of his breath. Swiftly they left the home and entered the streets of Baldur, hiding in the shadows as they hunted for their next meal.

There, a raven-haired teen with poise similar to Enver. Hungry and unresting they stalked after the boy with quiet footsteps. In their sharp grasp a knife is steadily held and ready for action. When the boy is caught alone in an ally on his way home the knife lands in his spine, instantly paralyzing the boy. A scream is caught in his throat at the excruciating pain. They meander over top of him, watching as he tries to crawl away and cry for help. A foot on his neck stops him from moving further.

“I wouldn't do that, if I were you, sweetness.” All they could imagine was Enver, sweet sweet Enver, as they delved into the innocent boy's flesh. Ripping his muscles from the bone and devouring his lovely inner spoils. The crunch and squelch of his guts in their mouth only brings to mind what they wish they could do to Enver. Their only desire, to fill their mouth with him, to eat him whole. So he will never part with them.

“It was a delight for you to indulge me like this, sweetness. Your shortcoming was pleasurable. Now I hope you don't mind as my feast must be cut short.” They couldn't stay outside much longer as the sun would come up soon, and they needed to get back home to the temple. “I hope you liked my gift, my dearly detested Enver.”

Just as quickly as the night had begun it was over. Back in their dark room with blood covered sheets and grotesque corpses strewn across the wall from their bed. The shroud of sleep once more overcame them as the sun began to rise above the city above. They dreamt of only the sweetest indulgences.

The childlike rage of their childlike loneliness was no more for this day. Tomorrow would come and it would return, only to be gnawed at and gutted once more.

[justreadertings]

“Promise”

Ok so I was writing Sweet Understanding but I cannot stand Rowaelin seperation so I NEEDED to write this. I think I reread it once? So if it’s iffy that’s why. Beisdes this is more the “I’m zoning out in class and want to think of a Rowaelin hurt/comfort situation” typa thing. This is also my way of saying maybe? another Sweet Understanding chapter this weeked? I think! I’m making progress! Ok I’ll stop rambling, here a canon Rowaelin oneshot for ya- Magee

Masterlist

TW: nightmares, PTSD, slight mention of blood.

Aelin bolted up from bed. Darkness caked their room, but her shaking hands could not light the candles next to their bed. Rowan was immediately up next to her, his reflexes quick as a cat. Light festered in instantly, the matches already discarded by their bedside table, his hands rubbing up and down her back. 

Sweat poured down her face, and she kicked the blankets away as she tried to breathe. Rowan grabbed one of her hands, and placed it on his solid, steady heart. It helped her, even if exhaustion was starting to play tricks with her mind. She could still taste the blood in her mouth, still felt dirty with it.

Her fingernails dug into Rowan’s forearm. “Get him out of here,” she gritted, eyes shut tight.

“Who, Fireheart?” he asked her, voice level. When she felt entirely herself, she would have taken time to appreciate her stony warrior, not fazed by her insanity. But she felt too far from herself. Too out of it. And she could literally smell him from across their bedroom. How did he even get in here?

Nausea crept up in her. “Rowan, get him out of here.”

“No one is here but me and you.”

Tears clouded her vision. “No, Rowan. He’s here. I need-” her voice faulted. She didn’t feel angry anymore, she was just… scared. And she hated being scared but gods, she couldn’t do it again. She couldn’t go through it all again. She wasn’t strong enough. Aelin began crying in earnest. “Rowan, I can't do it. Please get him out of here.”

Her mate’s hands rubbed soothing circles on her back, and she wished she could sink into the comfort of it. “Who is here, Aelin? Tell me and I’ll get rid of him.”

She shook her head, frantically. It was like her past and her present weren’t catching up to her, like she woke up but not quite right. “Cairn,” she told him. “I can smell him- I- I can feel him.” Aelin gagged at the scent clogging up her nose before it was replaced by the intense smell of her mate’s rage. 

It was enough to pull her to open her eyes. She stared at him for a moment, chest still heaving. Aelin placed a hand over her mouth before a wash of calm and exhaustion spread over her. Tears fell from her eyes. The world came back into focus.

“Rowan,” she sighed, leaning to rest her forehead on his shoulder.

Rowan’s fingers drifted through her hair, giving her both the comfort she craved and the space to think. 

“I could have sworn he was at the foot of our bed,” she finally whispered. 

His fingers worked her tense neck. “I know, Fireheart.”

Pure exhaustion weighed on her. “I’m so tired,” she told him.

“I know,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her cheek. Her neck. Even if she was damp with sweat.

“I hate him,” she gritted. “I hate that I can even conjure his face. I hate that he has that power.”

Rowan spoke against her forehead. “He’s long gone. Far from this world. Rotting in a hell somewhere.”

She nodded, still trying to catch her breath. Rowan laid back on their pillows, and she crawled onto him, resting her head over his beating heart. Aelin intertwined their legs, not knowing where she stopped and he began. 

“Do you think there'll ever be a night where we’ll just… sleep?” She asked him, breath ghosting his chest. 

Rowan continued to stroke her hair, his other hand banded around her middle. “One day, Fireheart.”

Aelin’s eyes fluttered closed. “Promise?”

The last thing she heard before falling back to sleep was her mate’s soft voice, her comfort in her worst moments. “I promise.”

Taglist

@leiawritesstories

@tomtenadia

@fireheart-violet

@backtobl4ck

@morganofthewildfire

@rowaelinismyotp

@aelinchocolatelover

@thegreyj

@foughtconquered

@swankii-art-teacher

@booklover242

@stardelia

@numbers-colors-fashion

@bookcide

@viajandosinalas

@rowanaelinn

@elentiyawhitethorn

@emily-gsh

@athena127

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship

[writer1queenjaysblog]

Daddy's baby girl 💕

Yandere Dad Jake x oc.

Sho'ree is the second daughter of Jake and his mate and she was born small and with a extra finger like Lo'ak and Kiri and he's very protective of her and won't let anyone near her not even the Tonowari and Ronal son.

Her age 18.

Jake remember the time that Neytiri gave birth to Sho'ree she was small and weak she was told she wasn't going to make it but she pulled through.

Jake was scared thinking about his daughter dying but she lives through it he was proud of her and was very very over protective of her and he didn't let her go anywhere alone, what if his sweet little baby girl got hurt? What if someone hurt her? How will he get rid of their bodies?! So many thinks went through his mind.

As she got older she wanted to do things that her older brothers were doing like hunting only for Jake to be like: "No absolutely not." She was disappointed "But daddy Nete and Lo'ak go hunting all the time I never go mom goes too." "Because their older sweet heart and you can get hurt."

She tried to tell him that she could take care of herself but he wouldn't budge at all. "Daddy said no princess now go play with with your sisters."

She pout in defeat knowing pushing the situation with her dad wasn't going to work as her mother would back him up "Yes daddy." He smiles as he pets her head smiling "Good girl now go on."

Years went by and Sho'ree was now 18 and she was a beautiful vision her body filled out, curves that made the boys drool over her, smiling at her, filtering and the girls wanted to be her. Jake's yandere over protective fatherly instincts kicked in over drive.

He would have Neteyam and Lo'ak watch her every move. No boy has come Forward saying that they want to court her or be her mate because of Jake giving them the death glares and tell them no and other things that scared them away and they never spoke to her again or anything. Neteyam and Lo'ak were the second reason as well as Neytiri.

It was time to leave home after Miles had her hostage and had a knife under her neck Jake wanted to kill him but he couldn't let his baby girl get hurt so he told him it wasn't over.

Once arrive to their new home Jake looked and saw how Ao'nung was looking at her and his friends looked at her body up and down make his blood boil but he knew he couldn't do anything so he told her to get on the other side of him.

"Baby girl come here stand next to me." He said watching the teen look at his daughter before making eye contact with him with Jake glaring daggers at him. Once settled in Sho'ree was excited she looked at the ocean and wanted to swim and meet new people "Dad I think I'm ready to swim and meet new people especially some handsome boys." She made her family look at her with a stare that was dark.

Jake looked at her in shock "No princess you can't your not old enough." "Daddy I am ready for a boyfriend and..." "And?" "I- I don't think I should tell you guys." "Come on sis."

Said Neteyam "Your brother is right Sho'ree you know better we don't keep secrets in this family." He said as she worked up the courage to tell them "I want to mate." She blushing as Jake looked shocked his little girl ready for mating?!

Having sex with a man?! "Sho'ree honey you're not ready your to Young and pure." Said Jake "But dad I think I am my body has these urges."

"That's the thing honey it's your body it doesn't know what it needs those are wants and your still growing up your body's changing by the time your old enough you'll forget it."

"Now get ready for dinner." "Ok." She knew she was in heat "Jake I think she's ready." "No no she isn't she's still a little girl." "In your eyes Jake but not to them not to those boys..those adult men who see her as any other woman on this island." Jake knew Neytiri was right but the thought of them touching his baby girl sent him into rage.

"No she's not going to mate and no one is going to touch her and if they lay one hand even a finger on my little girl Neytiri I'll make them regret being born." He said unpacking his sons agreed if anyone touch their little sister it will be hell to pay.

"No one will touch or hurt my baby girl nobody I'll kill anyone and everyone in my way if they do." Jake said as she sees her swimming with Ao'nung and his sister and friends.

@lovemyavatar

[bitchfitch]

There was blood on the warlord's hand. It didn't matter how much he scrubbed, he could still feel it burning him where it stained his palm. He was convinced he could still smell the syrupy tinge of human his former apprentice carried. His own purely demonic blood seeped from where he had scoured his skin off in a vain attempt to get rid of it.

Pavo has pulled beating hearts out of chests, disemboweled the finest warriors with nothing but his teeth, stomped throats ripped heads from their worthless bodies, and never had any of it filled him with this boiling sickness. He felt his ribs would turn inwards and pierce his lungs. His every honed muscle shook with unbearable tension.

He could still feel the blood on his hand.

His apprentice, his fiance, the man he had raised from a boy like he was Pavo's own flesh carved off, he was a lying traitor. A whorish thing willing to abandon the only person who was idiotic enough to buy his sweet smiles and sugared words. A mutt whos kin wouldn't even acknowledge the existence of, leading them in a charge against the only true home he ever knew.

Pavo should have put the writhing, cowardly, disgusting thing in the chair he'd used to show the boy how to flay skin without killing who you interrogate. Should have relished force feeding him his own halfbred off cuts until his fragile little gut burst.

All Pavo had done was shove the ring that the only person he'd ever loved proposed to him with into the bastard's mouth before slapping him to stop his never ending lies and false claims of innocence and fictitious swearing of loyalty.

He hadn't even been the one to make the worm bleed. The strike had just knocked him back enough to gash open his scalp on the uneven stone work of the prison wall.

Pavo had grabbed him by his hair, pulled him off the ground and back onto his weak legs. He'd meant to make Esti look him in the eye and see the rage that Pavo had put so much fucking Effort into shielding him from all these years. Only to have it all killed by his palm coming away damp and red from those locks he used to brush and braid and play with or tussle every single day.

He hadn't seen the tears and snot staining the mongrel's face until that moment. Hadn't thought of the shadow born boy who hid under Pavo's cloak when the world was all too bright, or the young man he'd shown how to wield a sword, who trusted only Pavo to sew his leg closed after his first real battle left it in shreds.

Who never once doubted, who never once asked for more than Pavo could give, who never tried to prove himself the better of them.

Pavo had fled that cell like it was on fire. The man who had been his everything left there while he tried desperately to rid himself of the foul feeling of blood under his nails.

"Sir," there was a knock at his open door. Melagris stood there, her head up, her face stoney, her iridescence dulled by the filth of battle. "The injured combatants have been dealt with according to your orders. Cissa and Pica Corax have been found amongst the dead."

"Where's Gallo?" he already knew the answer, he just wanted to see if she'd take credit for her sudden promotion.

"He died in combat with the Corax boys," she lied.

"Noted. Bring the Coraxes to the prison. leave them in their brother's cell and tell the guards no one is to so much as look at Esti." he rolled his shoulders waiting for the pang of satisfaction he usually got from tormenting a hostage, none came. "You already know what duties you've inherited. See to them and make certain that there is not a single shadow in this village that a Corax can hide in while you do."

"Yessir," she bowed her head and began to turn to take her leave.

"Gallo was soft. I'm glad I will not have to see to his reappointment and I'm glad to have you as captain for this upcoming war. Slip up and your kin will be finding your corpse for years to come."

Melagris preened under his approval of her slaughtering her superior as she left to begin her work.

Morning came with all it's usual annoyances. Pavo had to remake the wards hiding his territory from other demons. The work being slow and tedious as he had to use methods he'd never taught Esti. Meaning methods he himself had never used. New keys were given to his flock of warriors, his herd of humans tallied and directed to take this or that path instead when they traveled. Boring discussions of rations and rebuilding and body burning.

Constant pitying looks thrown his way like darts. No one was stupid enough to say anything. No one even spoke Esti's name. It still made his absence from Pavo's side burn all that much more brighter and the blood he still felt on his hand throb.

The anger was gone. There was just a gaping hole where his insides should be.

Letters, discussions, assurances and bargains, meals, a bribe or too. Starting fights and helping clean away debris for no reason other than that he needed to make his every cell hurt. He needed to burn time before he would have to go decide what to do with Esti.

Night fell, Pavo hadn't slept since Esti woke him up at the beginning of the attack. There was nothing left to do. He tried to sleep, to let the traitor stew for a few more hours while his brothers began to rot beside him. Everytime Pavo dropped the spell on his prosthetic eyes, all he could see was Esti crying and alone.

He could still feel the blood on his hand.

He was stomping into the prison mere hours after sun down looking as weak as he felt.

His hair was loose around his shoulders, his eyes rimmed with exhaustion. His undershirt only half tucked into his sleep pants. Boots scuffed from dragging his feet. Never had he acknowledged a hostage without being dressed to the nines. Long overcoat and gold jewelry hanging from his horns and fingers. They needed to know he was better than them. That his wealth was so great that their blood ruining his finery meant nothing.

Pavo hadn't been able to make himself redress after his resolve cracked enough to send him crawling back to that cell. He needed to see Esti immediately.

Esti was exactly where Pavo had left him. Curled up in the corner with his face hidden behind his boney knees. The sleep clothes he'd been wearing when the attack started were torn and clinging to his grey skin like a snake's shed. His dead half brothers leaned against the wall beside him. Their guts distended with the rot brewing inside them, their blood caked faces twisted by rigor mortis.

Pavo wished Esti hadn't hated his mother's two younger sons. He needed the bitch to hurt even if he seemed too weak to do it himself.

He stood outside that cell with his arms crossed, waiting for his rage to come back.

It didn't. He could still feel the blood on his hand.

Esti knew he was there, kept his head tucked down even as his thin shoulders tensed by the subtle points of his ears. He looked so small. He was small, tiny compared to the full blooded demons he'd grown up around, but he never looked it to Pavo.

"Gracilis. Remember him? Finest warrior in my employ who just went missing one day."

Esti looked up, his brown eyes shadowed by his bangs. He knew Pavo didn't want him to talk.

"We, you, him, his apprentice, and myself, had been out hunting. He pulled me to the side while you and his brat were cleaning the kills, and he asked how much he'd have to pay to take you off my hands. Told him it depended what he wanted you for. You know how many other dumb cunts have made offers for you, He needed to do better than all of them," Pavo opens the door so he could come to crouch before Esti.

"He wanted to slash your throat and fuck the hole. Feed your body to that brat so the two of them could brag about eating the eldest Corax.

"I cut out his tongue and broke every bone in his worthless body for daring to suggest I'd let my apprentice be disgraced like that. I've lost count of how many demons smelled the human in you and made some stupid attempt to take what is mine because it made their mouths water.

"But after the shit you pulled? Telling your mommy how to get her warriors into the most protected village in these lands. It made me realize I should have let him. Should have given you to him as a gift and told him to not be so gentle as to let you die of a slashed throat."

Pavo let's the words hang between them, Esti is shaking and Pavo can see how hard he is struggling to not cry. It gave him no satisfaction. He didn't feel his words, the anger still refused to return.

"Good thing I didn't think some of your other wanters were worth killing."

"Pavo-"

"Shut up. You will not speak my name again. You are lucky you are a war trophy now. Because I'm going to be keeping you around as an accessory and as an insult to that bitch who made the mistake of not eating you the second you were born.

"If you disobey. If you attempt to run. If you step out of line Once. I will auction you off to the highest bidder and demand they let the group take turns with you before they begin eating you alive." he wanted to mean every word. He wanted to relish the idea of an enemy being brought that low, but the idea of Esti suffering that just made him sick.

Esti nodded, and Pavo saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Small, fleeting, and absolutely enraging.

[ceruleanmusings]

A Batch Made in Heaven: Mickames

dusting this one off from 2020. have fun with james being a mess - literally.

@partiallypearl @witchofinterest @raging-violets

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Pulling faces at the acrid stench, James waved a mitted hand over the smoking hunks of cookie sitting on the baking tray. His nose wrinkled. Calling it a cookie was being generous. Disaster was a better word. Blowing out a sigh, he removed the oven mitt and tossed it onto the counter. A plume of flour shot up and hit him in the face, making him slam his eyes shut and press his lips into a straight line.

Great. Just great. Now there was no point to the apron; his nice, pressed shirt was ruined and the flour in his hair had to be sucking up any bit of moisture left. He couldn’t have dull, dry locks. Any bit of shine less than the surface of, well, a diamond was completely unacceptable!

Wrestling the looping neck hole over his head, James tossed it aside, casting a forlorn glance at the flour and dried cookie dough clinging to the once pristine fibers of his shirt. Now he was two for two. Thankfully his dark denim and sneakers were left unscathed but now he had to change his outfit; he could make anything look amazing but even he had to draw the line at oil stains and sticky residue. They weren’t exactly his idea of a good accessory.

Whirling around, his eyes landed on the glowing neon green numbers on the oven clock. 1:07. Okay, that gave him a little bit of time. Not enough to fix everything but maybe he could get a new shirt on and at least add some fresh spritzes of Cuda Man Spray to his neck. It would do in a pinch and had to be much better than the smoldering ashes left on the baking sheet, reminding him of his failure. As if he needed their physical presence to do that.

“Knock knock!” Drat, too late! Why did she have to finally get over her habit of not walking right into the apartment? And why did she have to be so punctual? A few extra moments to himself and he’d at least be an eight on the James Diamond Presentation Scale rather than sitting at a mediocre seven.

It was an odd combination, the swooping flutter in his chest colliding with a spiking throb of dread at the sight of Mickey coming in through the door, eyes shining, bounce in her step as always. He’d never felt so torn between wanting to dive right into the pure shot of joy at seeing her or succumbing to the aversion of her seeing him like this: unkempt, messy, disheveled. Elation won over, lifting his mouth to a cresting smile, spreading a pleasant buzz right beneath his skin when she wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug, burying her face in his chest.

“Mmm,” she hummed, tilting her head back, resting her chin against him to look up at him, “you smell good.”

“Thanks, I make it a point not to smell bad.”

“Well, yeah, that,” she said with a laugh, “but I meant something else. Something sweet. Like icing or sugar or…” Taking a step back, he relished in the drag of her fingers against this sides, lightly pulling at his clothes. “This.” Her finger jabbed at the spot on his shirt; he looked down as well, as if seeing it for the first time. “What’s that?”

He brushed his hand against his shirt, batting the dough away, mentally groaning at the darkened stain left on him. Maybe Mama Knight could find a way to get rid of the stain; she was good with all that laundry stuff. The first and only time James tried he ruined a good shirt. All Mama Knight said was to scrub to pre-treat a stain. Who knew you weren’t supposed to use steel wool? “Nothing.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “So…you make it a habit to walk around looking like you got beaten up by the Pillsbury Doughboy?” The backslap of her hand to his sleeve cast another puff of flour off him.

James snorted. “Okay, for one, if I actually got into a fight with the Doughboy I’d win.” At the amused expression on her face he added an emphatic, “easily” which made her laugh. “And, no, I don’t. I just…I wanted…” His mouth pressed into a line and his fingers twitched by his sides.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Mickey to know he was baking. Or, rather, that he tried. She could sniff out the smell of vanilla or browned butter from a mile away. He didn’t want her to know he failed. He was James Diamond. He achieved every dream he put into place, he won every competition he entered, he and his buds played on a winning high school hockey team. Failure wasn’t a word that existed in his world. His parents made sure of it; his pride doubled down on it. Sure, he may have suffered a few setbacks, but he didn’t fail. He couldn’t fail. Not like this, not now.

Heaving a sigh, James rubbed his forehead. Maybe he could still salvage this somehow. People always said honesty was the best policy; someone had to be right about that at some point or else people wouldn’t keep saying it. But that usually ended up with the guys being mad at him over stating their inadequacies during rehearsal (compared to him anyway.) But Mickey had only two things she wanted when they started dating: respect and communication. Something told him honesty fell in there somewhere. “Don’t laugh, okay?” James took Mickey’s shoulders and spun her around. He counted the seconds ticking by looking at the back of her head, waiting for her to notice the chunks of cement arranged on the pan. It took seven seconds; the same amount of time it took her to fail at restraining a laugh at a good joke.

“Hey! Hockey pucks!” Tilting her head back, she smiled up at him. “That’s cute.”

“They aren’t hockey pucks. They’re cookies.”

She blinked, smile fading. “Oh.”

“I made them.”

“Oh.”

“For you.”

“…Oh!”

James grumbled. “Stop saying that.”

“Sorry! I just…don’t know what to say.” She paused. “You don’t bake.”

“I know.” Well, that wasn’t exactly how he expected it, though he was glad the guys weren’t there. They’d never let him hear the end of it.

Mickey approached the cookies, poking at the side of one. It crumbled into a pile of ash, and she pulled her lips into a line. Pulling a face, James rested his arms against the side of the counter. All that work for nothing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cook anything either,” she commented.

“I make chicken nuggets all the time.”

“That doesn’t count. All you do is heat them up.”

“Yeah, but I have to push a button to do it.” In one fell swoop her eyelids drooped to half-mast and her weight switched to one side. “You push a button to turn on the oven, it’s the same thing!” he said.

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“Yeah, well, it takes a lot of effort to pull off the plastic wrap for the nuggets.”

“All that hard work at the gym has finally paid off.”

James pouted. “Stop being mean.” Her mouth turned up in a half smile and she picked up a cookie, one of the few that didn’t look too terrible. It wasn’t until it was halfway to her face realization thundered in him and he jerked upwards. “Wait, you don’t have to eat it!”

She gave him a look. “You made them for me. I should at least try one.”

“You really don’t!” His words had no effect on her as she took a bite. Muscles in her face twitched, her chewing slowed, and he swore at one point she went cross-eyed. She placed a hand on her chest and let out an audible swallow. Groaning, James shoved his face in his hands. “I told you.” His muffled words slipped out between his fingers.

“It’s not…entirely…terrible.” Peeking through his fingers he watched her stick her tongue out a few times, touching the edge of her bite mark. “I just have a question,” she said, turning the cookie one way and the other, “did you use root beer in this?”

“Yeah.”

“Follow-up question: why?”

James shrugged. “Because we didn’t have baking soda.” Her head whipped up and the alarmed expression on her face made him take a step back. “What? They’re both soda. Says so on the box.”

“Not…not that kind of soda.” She brought the cookie to her mouth again only to toss it down on the tray. It made a loud and heavy clang. “…Why is it…weirdly sweet? Is that dairy creamer?”

He nodded. “We didn’t have butter.” She let out a whooping laugh and slapped her hand across her mouth. His lips vibrated as he blew a raspberry and dragged a hand through his hair. “I messed up, I get it.”

“Well, I mean, baking’s a science.” His nose wrinkled. Ugh! What did science have anything to do with love gestures? No wonder it all went south. Science ruins everything. “Hey.” She approached him and lifted her head. On instinct, James leaned down, turning his head for her. A pleasant buzz in his stomach at the touch of her lips to his cheek. “Thank you. No one’s ever made cookies for me before.”

He shrugged. “Well, I mean, you make things for everyone else all the time and take care of us. I wanted to try to take care of you too.”

Gratitude lit up her dark eyes and she kissed his cheek again. “You know you don’t have to be perfect at it. The effort’s all I care about. Though I have to say I’m kind of relieved you messed this up.”

“Why?”

“Because now I know you’re bad at something. You were starting to freak me out. Plus! I can show off.” With a flourish, she whipped the apron off the counter and adorned it with a few quick twists of her wrist. As she went to the refrigerator, James rounded the counter and hoisted himself onto the orange bar stool. Grabbing the abandoned bag of chocolate chips, he turned it over.

“What are you doing?” Mickey closed the refrigerator with her hip, clutching a carton of eggs in one hand and a bowl holding the bag of flour and sugar in the other.

“Looking for the recipe.”

Her chin tilted forward and focused look came to her eye, making James sit up straight. “You think I need a recipe?” she asked, a smirk slowly forming on her lips. “You’re cute.” She set the bowl and the carton on the counter. “You just sit there and look pretty.”

“Is that all I am to you?” Not that he minded. Some people were born to look pretty, and everyone else were born to entertain. Lucky for him, he could do both.

“Every artist needs a muse. Lucky for me, you’re very a-muse-ing.” She laughed to herself, cackled really. James’ smile reached halfway, fading when his eyes slid past her to the tray of wrecked cookies nearby. His mouth twisted to the side and he pushed a breath out his nose. Mickey glanced at him at the sound, then her eyes followed his gaze to the pan, and then back to him. He did his best to rearrange his face but it was no use; as she once, said he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, he wore it on his face. And yet, even then, his mother still found a way to ignore it.

“Just so you know, you’re not messing up.” He scoffed. What kind of boyfriend couldn’t even manage to make something as simple as cookies? “I mean this”—she motioned to the pan behind her—"yeah, this is a lost cause. But for the boyfriend part, you’re doin’ a pretty good job.”

“Just pretty good?”

“I have nothing to compare you to so, no matter what, you’re always the best in my book.” And he knew she was being honest; she tended to avoid eye contact, finding it a little too close and too intimate and too vulnerable. But now her gaze held strong and steady; the earnest look in her eyes pierced through him and dropped down to his toes. He held out his hand and she placed hers in his, letting out a soft giggle when he kissed the back of her hand.

“Thank you,” he said.

She pulled his hand forward, kissing the back of his in return. “You’re welcome.”

[moomitheartist]

-A Twisted Smile- Pt. 1

Why did his cuts never get infected? Maybe it was because of all the alcohol that he ingested daily, constantly trying to keep the voices at bay by dulling them out, that prevented bacteria from entering his wounds. Those damned voices never stopped, though; through the haze of the many drugs he took, they were always there. He could take enough that he was vomiting blood, his body couldn't function, and his dazed, foggy, muddled mind slowed to a numbing halt. But there, even if dimmed out due to the narcotized state he put himself in, they were constantly whispering and screaming in a sick and horrid cacophony; disgusting things, to kill, to hurt, telling him the most cruel and utterly evil things that a human being just couldn't dream up even in their darkest nightmares.

Bottle after bottle, pill after pill, injection after injection, and sickly sweet, intoxicating inhale after inhale of that white powder was all he could do to help himself. The dulling, deadening, and euphoric feeling those drugs caused kept his mind off the voices that told him the things. He didn't want to remember. He didn't want to remember any of it. He pondered suicide on more than one occasion; maybe that would make them stop? Maybe, possibly, hopefully that would stop the ghosts and demons of his past from tormenting him. His hallucinations were nearly unbearable. The twisted, sick, blood covered body of what use to be a teenage boy crawling to him while he was paralyzed; stab marks littered its body, the gashes so deep that you could see bone. Oh, the blood that coated its body. Too much.

Dripping from the slack mouth, trailing down its neck and spreading across the collar of its torn shirt like ruby frost. Deep cuts across both cheeks in an abnormal red smile seemed to blend together with the other lines of red that scared its face. And the worst part, the eyes. Those sparkling, wise, emerald-olive eyes that used to look at his brother lovingly and protectively: they no longer glimmered. They were dull, dead. Rolled up into the back of his head now. Sunken and dark and lifeless. His cedar hair that blew in the wind and framed his beautiful face was now soaked in dried up blood and had long ago lost its shine.

Those deathly pale and gore coated lips that had frowned so many times, telling his beloved brother to hurry up or they'll miss the school bus. And those arms that hugged so warmly and affectionately, that smacked him whenever he did something stupid were all distorted and twisted in disgusting angles. They were reaching for his throat. They wanted revenge. They wanted back blood that had been spilled all over the cold, wooden tiled floors and staircase in gallons and gallons. They wanted the life that brutally ripped away theirs. He did always manage to bolt up, grab the nearest bottle, and chug the burning and warming liquid down before those gnarled fingers could wrap around his throat.

He drank it down like his life depended on it when that thing appeared in hopes of the euphoric emptiness taking over his brain and getting rid of the excruciating memories of the past. Oh, fuck, what did I do? I'm so sorry, Liu, Jeffrey Woods thought as he leaned against the wall to keep himself up, his vision blurring and swimming. Too many substances, stimulants, and hallucinogens in one night. He let himself slide down the cold, smooth wall and sat down hard, blacking out. But, not before seeing the warped face of his older brother twist into rage and pure hatred an inch before him.

"You know that I love you, right?"

"..."

"Jeff? Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"Tell me why."

"?"

"Tell me why the fuck you don't hate me!" Jeff suddenly roared, standing up shakily yet determinedly. "Don't you fucking tell me that you love me when you're not even real!"Jeff looked down with hysteria in his piercing blue eyes to where Liu sat a couple seconds ago, met with only deafening silence and an empty room. Tears flowed freely from his manically wide eyes and stung the cuts that formed his bloody smile.

He suppressed a scream and instead smashed an empty beer bottle against the opposite wall, the shattering amplified by the noiseless in the room. His ears rung with a sort of high pitched static and voices guffawed and chuckled and insulted and teased. Jeff grabbed another glass bottle and crushed it on the ground, but this time grabbed a shard and drove it deep through his arm, laughing hysterically and beginning to salivate at the sight of the crimson pouring down his ghost white skin. It trailed all over his arm in streaks, starting to splatter onto the floor in a large, messy puddle, staining his colorless hoodie. The dull, overwhelming ache of the puncture wound was a blessing. Jeff twisted the shard deeper in, causing gore to spurt out like a miniature fountain.

The pain couldn't be described and it made him giggle harder until he was full on cackling, gasping for breath as warm tears spilled down and mixed with the blood that was starting to spread over the mahogany flooring, seeping into any cracks it could detect and worming its way through the boards. At this point, Jeff became dizzy from the loss of the bodily fluid, and stumbled slightly until he took a seat on the cozy, thick comforter that lay on his large bed. Breathing grew slightly difficult now as he wrenched the glass out of his flesh with a sickening squelch, careful to make a show of twisting it about before finally tossing it down.

Now that there was no foreign object to limit the blood flow, the red suddenly gushed out all over the fabric of the bed, creating a concerningly wide, and growing, stain. Jeffrey chuckled as he stared at the exposed insides of his limb, the intricate blue and red veins clearly visible and somewhat hanging out, obviously severed. The pink meat glistened, damaged and butchered, and the strong smell of iron invaded the room. The sight of it all, joined by the overpowering scent, caused Jeff a rush of dopamine and extreme excitement; he felt his heart rate increase rapidly, and whatever blood he had left rushed through his body. He grinned so broadly that his scars dripped red, newly opened and fresh. They never quite healed anyway.

That is, Jeff made sure that they didn't. The high soon wore off because of a dangerous lack of gore which caused him to see strange shapes and eigengrau for a couple seconds, even though his eyes were wide open. He felt too fatigued and exhausted to walk all the way to the bathroom connected to his chambers, where the first aid kit was located, so Jeff instead opened a can of alcohol with unfocused gaze and unceremoniously poured the stinging, disinfecting liquid onto his puncture. He immediately afterwards passed out cold.

An expressionless, midnight-blue mask with some sort of gruesome black liquid dripping from its dark eyesockets stood mere inches away, head cocked to the side- similar to the look of curiosity portrayed by a dog. A black hood was draped around the smooth mask, and what skin was visible from the clothing had an ashen, shadowy gray coloring to them. His tousled cinnamon-brown bangs hung in his face in spikes; the hands that were stationed on either side of Jeff's body had fingers that were in the form of sharp claws.

Jerking up, he yelled, "What the fuck, Jack?!" Eyeless Jack backed up off the bed slightly and tilted his blank, masked face in the opposite direction, seemingly in question. "Why the hell did you come into my room, asshole? You could've fucking knocked at least!""..." "Tch, whatever. Get out." Jeff's request was met with a slow headshake, and Jack instead wandered off into the bathroom next door to return a couple seconds later with the shiny white medical kit. The raven-haired adolescent glared at the taller boy in resentment and indignation, remembering the still raw and throbbing wound on his right arm.

"I'll do it myself, give me the damn thing." Yet again, Jack refused and took a seat besides Jeff, crossing his legs. "Not... good... to do that," he whispered in a quiet and clearly underused voice, which was slight raspy and hoarse. This caught the other by surprise; he practically never spoke, only doing so when necessary. "Don't... hurt yourself..." "Why should you care, dickhead? Don't fucking tell me what to do, give me the kit, and get out of my room." Jack suddenly reached up and removed his mask, his sleek locks slipped down from the forehead of the mask and fluttered down to his staring, empty, cold eyesockets.

Threads of inky black sludge stuck to the surface as it pulled away, then began flowing freely down his sunken cheeks. His cupids bow lips were pale and had a sort of natural frown to them. His expression was flat and neutral- the diminished look on his face clearly indicated a noticeable lack of emotion within him. "I'll do it" he muttered, placing his mask down onto the mattress. The eerie and off-putting part of the loss of his eyes was the feeling of constantly being stared at and studied, no matter where Jack's attention was directed towards when facing you.

By now, Jeff the Killer had given up trying to convince the cannibalistic creature to leave him alone. Instead he wordlessly stared right back and didn't resist when the boy opened the first aid kit and picked up his arm to begin the disinfecting process. The vast knowledge Jack had on the medical field put the serial killer at ease, and so he sat still and didn't utter a peep as the former continued his work. After cleaning thoroughly, doing several more stitches than should be necessary for a single arm, and tightly bandaging up the injury, Eyeless Jack put all the medical equipment back into the box and shut it with finality.

He stood up, put his mask back on, and returned the object back to the restroom's cabinet before washing the bloodstains off his hands. Jeff inspected the now gauze-wrapped arm which stung sharply with the seams that were littered underneath, holding the damaged and mangled flesh together. He glanced up to the brunette just before he exited the large, poster-covered, cigarette and liquor scented chambers.

"...hey, jackass. Thanks, I guess," he said. Jack turned his head to the direction of the speaker and gave a single nod; he quietly opened the door and slipped out without a single word.

...

"Severe depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, sociopathy, post traumatic stress disorder, and sleep paralysis," Ben suddenly said from his seat on the cushioned leather couch. He was currently playing away on his gaming console, eyes fixated to the large TV screen as he neared the end of his level. Jack, Toby, and the blond-haired boy were sitting in the living room. They were the only remaining beings in the mansion as the other members had left a couple hours ago, each having their own thing to do in the dead, cold, wintery outside.

Those three, and Jeff, who was and had been holed up in his room ever since the morning. "Huh?" Toby asked, taking his gaze off the falling snowflakes outside of a frosted, fogged up window. Jack slightly turned his head towards the boy as well in acknowledgement. "Those are the disorders that I noticed him suffering from." Ben motioned to the upper level of the mansion with a jerk of his head to clarify of whom he spoke of. "O-oh, Jeff. What ab..about it?"

The boy with messy, carob-brown hair, pale skin, and dark eyes that were shadowed with circles stuttered over his words and gave an involuntary switch in-between his question, which was due to an intense case of Tourette Syndrome, one of the many mental disorders that he possessed. "Hasn't come out of his room for more than three times the entire week," the pointy-eared individual muttered indifferently, reaching into his bag of chips as he beat his game, then started up another level.

His black eyes had illuminating scarlet pupils and from them blood trailed down his sickly, misty-bluish cheekbones. He blew a section of his honey-blond bangs out of his face subconsciously. "Yeah. Got any idea what h-his problem is?" "Nah. Probably another depressive episode, those can just come out of nowhere." Toby snickered and commented, "F-f-funny how quickly his moods c-can change. Just y-yesterday he was strutting through the fucking hallway like he owned the place. His narcissism rea-really pisses me off. A-always calling himself beautiful, arrogant b-bastard."

Ben made a sound of understanding. "Eh. I do like how he calls you 'Spaz' and 'Crick'," he chuckled, taking a sip of his Red Bull.

"Fuck you," he snapped. As the two boys began arguing, Jack just looked emptily at the sharp, glinting icicles that decorated the window's rail. "Hey. Wonder... if he'll kill himself?" Toby and Ben, who were wrestling on the floor, looked up at the masked creature who just spoke. "No. Jeff's too full of himself to end it just like that. If anything, that freak's gonna get killed by saying the wrong shit to God," the blonde grinned, shoving the freckled brunette off of him.

Toby cackled and rolled onto his side. "I-if that doesn't end him, I will!" The pair laughed some more. Jack, silent as ever, pondered. He believed that Ben was right; the spontaneous, sadistic, merciless and self-centered killer had an ego so large, that even if he by some miracle decided to slip a rope around his neck, it wouldn't be able to fit around his inflated head. Probably.

The cannibal left his companions to pick a book off of the nearest shelf, deciding that he spent enough time pondering over Jeff and his fate. It hardly was his business and didn't bother him much either way...~ "I'm going out," Jeff announced as he walked towards the front door, gripping the knife in his hoodie's pocket tightly. "Don't stay out too late. It's only getting colder, Jeffrey," Slenderman calmly stated from his seat in the black leather Wingback chair near the roaring fireplace. Truth be told, the ancient, faceless creature didn't need the warmth similar to how humans do not require chocolate. It's comfortable and convenient, but not necessary.

"Aw, come on! It's freezing out there, don't go," Sally whined, clutching her damaged and ripped teddy bear to her chest. Her dirty, bloodied pink dress pooled around her petite frame and she looked after the boy with large chartreuse eyes. The noirette ignored the little girl and shut the door behind him loudly. Sally huffed and pulled on a coiled lock of her soft brown hair. "I hope he doesn't catch a cold." ~ The bloodlust became much to powerful to contain any longer. Jeff's black and white Converses left tracks through the fallen snow as he walked through the chilling, dark forest, hood up and hands pocketed.

His blue eyes seemed to reflect the shining moonlight as he stared into nothing. All that occupied his deranged mind was blood and murder and dead bodies. Oh, and not to leave out the amusing screaming and begging from his poor, unsuspecting victims. Standing silently over their beds as they rested peacefully...that is, until they squirmed under an unknown gaze and opened their eyes. It was so satisfying to feel them squirm underneath his iron grip, sobbing and shrieking prayers. The feeling of flesh meeting metal, smiles carved into cheeks, and slicing their neck so brutally that it nearly fell off their shoulder. All that excitement and suffering always aroused him. Who wouldn't it?

The dominating feeling of being in full control of somebody's survival mixed with the flowing crimson decorating the body and nearby surfaces was such a beautiful sight... Looking up, the pale being noticed that he reached a neighborhood that stood near the edge of the woods. There was a large house at the beginning of the street that caught his attention the most due to its noticeable lack of lighting. What a perfect find.

The body of a teenage boy was dragged across the floor by the leg, leaving a thick trail of dark red behind it. Jeff tossed it to the pile of two other forms in the middle of the living room, a woman and a man. He grinned at the sight of the lifeless family, together for the last time in this world. Well, so he thought. A weak, nearly inaudible whimper sounded from one of the three; a closer inspection revealed that the boy was still breathing- albiet faintly. The murderer grabbed a handful of his brown, messy hair and stared into his unfocused and agony-filled brown eyes. "Huh. Still alive, you little twirp? Don't worry, I'll fix that. "

The effort of forming a sentence caused him to choke on a mix of gore and spit. "Just go to sleep." The knife's blade sunk into the boy's neck and tore out of the other end with a goey ripping sound; he began vomiting up blood with shocked eyes that looked into iridescent blue pupils. The liquid splashed all over Jeff's already splattered hoodie and joined the many dripping streaks of scarlet on his ghostly face. A final retch and convulsion was the last movement the teenager gave before going completely limp, eyes abundant of light and rolled to the back his skull.

There was a dull thud as the black-haired male released his grip on the still warm body. He gave one final kick to the lady's carved up face before walking out of the house with his bloody hands in his pockets. An eerie, unsettling tune was whistled as he thought back to the vocals of the boy's mother, the way she screamed so shrilly after seeing her husband's dead body looking right at her on their bed. She begged for her life so desperately, little fucking slut.

And all the squirming she manged to do before he stabbed her chest multiple times was honestly impressive. He knew why she was so persistent, though; it was because of her son. The need to protect him was so strong that she was still moving around even after the seventh wound, trying weakly to shove him away. Her wasted efforts of grabbing the fabric of his clothing in order to get him away amused Jeff so much that he felt as though he wasn't done just yet. "Worried about the brat, hm?" Her teary hazel eyes widened in pure fear. "No need to get you panties up in a twist, bitch. He's already gone."

A smile of enjoyment danced across his red lips as he backed away from the choking lady. "Let me show you." A hoarse scream bubbled up from her throat as a motionless adolescent was dumped onto the foot of her bed, just out of reach of her grasping arms. "Aw, don't be so sad! You really should smile a little more..." Jeff the Killer grabbed her chin and moved his knife to graze her quivering, gasping lips. "That pretty face of yours isn't gonna do you any good if you're always frowning." He plunged the blade into the sides of her mouth and dragged upwards to create a crooked smile, matching the ones her son and spouse wore so beautifully. He was truly doing these miserable people a generous favor, indeed.

Her high-pitched, jumbled up pleas caused drool to drip past her now bleeding mouth, further stimulating his already excited body, causing him to supress a little sound of pleasure. A long string of red was connected to the metal of the sharp weapon as the lady's killer pulled it out of her mouth and licked the fresh, carmine gore and saliva off the blade's side. "Thanks for the show," Jeff drawled with a smirk, placing the tool into his black jeans. The life slowly drained from her, the bloodloss catching up and adrenaline seeping away... Jeff was bought back to the present as an especially noisy gust of freezing wind whooshed around him, causing his ruffled and messy jet-black hair to blow into his face persistently.

"Damn, where the fuck did the light go?" He noticed the darkness that had heavily coated his surroundings; however, his excellent night vision kept him from bumping into any object that could be littered across the pavement. After a turn, Jeff came to a series of alleyways- each seemed to lead into a foggy, endless void. The unsettling atmosphere, however, wasn't what caused him to freeze. It was the casual footsteps that echoed around the many damp walls, causing it to sound as though it came from every direction.

A previously burnt-out lamppost slowly flickered to life as the person walking grew closer. Jeff, strangely, didn't duck out of sight or turn around to return to the forest that stood nearby; instead, he stared in fixation at the alley from which the footsteps were coming from and didn't budge. What's wrong with me? Why can't I leave? A shiny, black, leather lace-up boot stepped out from the shadows. The light illuminated the rest of the person's body as they revealed themselves fully; they wore dark blue jeans, a deep-green blazer coat, and a striped light and dark gray scarf around their shoulders. A rosary with a golden cross shimmered from the illumination of the lamppost, resting on the chest of their black V-necked shirt.

Jeffrey Woods slowly moved his gaze upward... strangely, it felt as though his brain was screaming at him not to look. The shocked, astonished face of an older and taller boy gazed right back at him. A boy who's emerald-olive eyes sparkled, a boy who had cedar hair, and a boy whose parted lips had a warm, alive color to them. The two males stood perfectly still, staring at the other with astounded faces. The only noise was the howling and moaning breeze that swept through the neighborhood.

Crows cawed and cackled from bare, snow-covered branches and frozen powerlines, laughing at the foolish and cruel world from their pirches. Conversing among their all-knowing and wise selves about humanity and our fate that will inevitably come to steal us all away, taking us to an unknown place. Snowflakes slowed their descent to watch these selfish humans; these ignorant creatures who did not understand the universe and what lay beyond their meaningless lives. The wind whispered to the trees of the flaws of us all, how we are all much too arrogant to see past anything except our own lives which seem too important to us.

The beings of the world that we see as low and unknowing understand more than humanity could ever wish to. And they recall witnessing the stormy night that a good person's mind snapped and plunged into pure and absolute insanity; the events which happened that horrible night ruined the lives and relationship of two people. Two people who had unbreakable love for each other and a bond that most of this world isn't blessed with in their lifetime; an unbreakable bond that had painfully been twisted and ripped apart. "...Jeff?"

"Tch. I was wondering when you'd show. Oh well, you'll disappear soon anyways." The younger male began walking forwards and brushed past the other boy, who had not moved a muscle ever since he came into view. Just before he rounded a corner that led out of the mess of tall, winding walls, an ear-shattering and deafening crack exploding in the once-peaceful atmosphere. Jeff suddenly stumbled and grabbed the smooth, cold surface of bricks to keep himself upright. His enlarged eyes traveled down to look at his chest, where a blossoming pool of blood began to grow into an alarming size. He put a hand over the left side of his thorax, where the gunshot wound now began to wetly spurt gore, and turned back around in bewilderment. "Did you miss me, brother?"

Liu had a gun raised, the muzzle still smoking from the previous shot. The swirling smoke vanished into the negative degrees air, drifting heavenwards. His hallucinations had never maimed his physical body before, and they especially never pulled a gun's trigger and buried a bullet into his chest. That meant... this was not a figment of his deteriorated mind's imagination... that meant that he was real. "W-what the fuck? No. No, you're fake. You're gonna leave soon. Yeah, you're just trying to trick me," Jeff quickly stuttered out.

The brunet approached his brother and pushed the gun into his abdomen, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Oh, I'm here. I'm right fucking here." His eyes shone with rage, and was that... lunacy? Jeff was utterly speechless, and his mind screeched to a halt as he stared up at the face of a person he had murdered so long ago. How, how was he back? "No, no, no. I-I killed you. I stabbed you over and over again, I saw, I saw you die right in front of me! You stopped breathing, I felt it! How are you still alive," he rambled as mania and panic began to overtake him.

The gun was pushed deeper into him as the other sneered. "You fucking left me to die. You horrible, disgusting excuse of a brother. You're nothing but a damn liar! You told me that you loved me! You said you'd do anything for me! And then you stabbed a godamn knife into my heart," he screamed, shoving the pale boy into the wall and beginning to cry. Madness overtook any sanity that remained in his pained, tear-filled gaze. Jeff just now truly noticed the stitches and scars that were littered from his face to his neck, across his nose bridge, left cheek, and on both sides of his mouth. They looked much more healed up and faded than his, treated properly and kept an eye on.

"You would've killed me, if it weren't for those neighbors who called me an ambulance! I almost died in that hospital multiple times, and what was the only thing I felt whenever I woke up? The most unbearable pain I've ever felt in my entire fucking life! How could you, Jeff? How the hell could you do that to me?" His tears were dripping freely down his flushed cheeks and the look of absolute despair tore at the other boy's frozen heart. "I didn't-"

"You what? Huh? You didn't want to kill me? You were laughing, you psychopath! I was begging you, and you laughed in my face!" There was no response. "That's what I thought. Now that I've finally tracked you down, I'll do the same you meant to do to me. I'm gonna kill you, Jeff." A split second before a bullet shot through his stomach, he pushed Liu's arm away and pulled out his knife, raising the reflective blade and pouncing forward. Before he could embed the weapon into the boy, he quickly recovered from his surprise and sidestepped out of the way, causing Jeff to almost loose his footing. However, he righted himself back up immediately and faced his rival once again with hate etched into his expression.

He needed to get that gun away from Liu somehow, and fast. That, or make him use up all the remaining bullets. Yes, that wouldn't require him to get too close, thus increasing the probability of only mild injury if he didn't keep on a predictable path. "You wanna kill me that bad? Then start shooting, pussy," he taunted. Liu frowned and began to fire bullets in his direction, aiming for his head. The casings clattered loudly to the ground as they were ejected. Jeff pivoted out of the range of the weapon with seemingly inhuman reflex, and stood ready to duck once again as the older boy cursed and fired once more.

Well, tried to. Only an empty clicking sound could be heard instead of the usual bangs that were emitted. "Oh, goddamn it." He threw the useless handgun to the concrete and pulled out a folding knife from his coat's inner pocket, preparing for his brother's next move. The noirette grinned at his victory; he began walking towards the other male, his knife clenched tightly in his fist.

As soon as he neared Liu, he sprinted forward and slashed at his heart, which was deflect with another blade. He ceased the boy's shirt and bought the knife down into his arm, forming a deep gash that immediately began leaking. The wounded individual grunted in pain, then furiously drove his weapon into his younger brother's shoulder. He hissed and slashed at his face but the latter quickly drew back, before being tackled to the floor; his knife skittered just out of reach as he lost his grip.

The murderer drew his arm back and attempted to slice the struggling boy's neck, but was stopped as Liu grabbed his arm with both hands, trying urgently to keep it from plunging into his flesh. They each struggled with the other until the brunette managed to gain enough force to push Jeff off of himself and simultaneously yanked the broad, bloody knife out of his hand. The two were back on their feet in a heartbeat, both scratched up and panting heavily. "Give it back," the blue eyed boy growled, the utter and visible intent to kill in his penatrating gaze.

"No." Before the taller boy could attempt to overtake his furious enemy, a scream sounded from somewhere deeper in the neighborhood. "The Barlowes are dead! " The gunshots had woken up the residents of the street and the unhinged door of the Barlowe family caused one of them to wander inside; they were greeted with the bodies of a child and his parents upon arrival. Of course, Jeff had left obvious signs of disturbance on the property to alert the neighbors and authorities of yet another attack of his- he didn't expect to stay around as long as he did, leaving him visible to any who had the intention of searching for the murderer.

He cursed and began backing away, but was seized by the other immediately. "You're not fucking going anywhere, asshole! I'm not letting you leave again, I swear!" "We'll see about that, son of a bitch." Elbowing Liu in the side roughly, he snatched his knife back and took off down a lit alley. He was pursued by his older twin withing a second.

A series of twists and turns made it difficult to keep up, but never deterred the green-eyed boy from chasing after the other. In several seconds, a final corner revealed the end of the maze of walls, and the entrance of the unilluminated forest greeted them. "No, you don't-!" Liu couldn't let his brother escape into the forest; the absolute abundance of any light source would make in all too easy for Jeff to lose him.

[moemoemammon]

im so sorry i dont know how to format this but could i request hcs of mc walking into one of the brothers rooms in the middle of the night and being like “um i had a nightmare.. can i stay with you”🧍if not its okay though!! :]

I Had a Nightmare...

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Lucifer always keeps his door locked when he's asleep, so you took a gamble in choosing to come to him for your post-nightmare comfort. Luckily, the eldest is a night owl so he's awake.

He looks up when you enter his bedroom, currently sitting on his bed and reading a book. He's about to scold you when he sees the face you're making.

You don't even have to tell him something's wrong, because he can tell. He sets his book aside and gestures to the empty side of his bed.

Once you climb in, Lucifer shifts slightly, just so your arm is pressed against his own. It's like an invitation for you to lean in if you want, and should you choose to, he'll wrap you in his arms and carefully rub your back.

"A nightmare, hm? It's interesting to think that there are things that can scare you, considering where you are right now. But there's nothing for you to be afraid of. After all, I have no intention of letting anything bad happen to you, so long as I live."

Mammon

Mammon startles awake the moment you enter his room, nearly toppling out of his bed in the process. Grrr, he could've seriously gotten hurt! What're you trying to pull, suddenly barging into his room like th-

Oh. Oh.... He takes one look at your face and all that anger of his fizzles out into nothing. He's a little self conscious being shirtless and all, so he awkwardly tugs on a tshirt that's been tossed to the floor, and makes his way over to you

What happened? Did someone do something?? Ah.. a nightmare, huh? Mammon's big brother instincts are taking over, and he's pulling you into a tight hug, squeezing out all your worries.

And when he's finished, he ruffles your hair and gestures to his bed. A human like you still needs to get their rest, so you should try to sleep some more. But if you really can't, he's not against the idea of the two of you bundling up and watching a movie or something.

"You're like a little kid, ya know? But don't worry, the Great Mammon's gonna chase away those bad dreams o' yours, no problem! ...Hah? Whatdya mean 'that's cheesy'?? I'm being serious here!"

Levi

Levi's definitely awake when you enter his room, but he doesn't notice you. His computer monitor has his undivided attention, and his headphone are drowning out the sound of your entry.

So it takes you tapping his shoulder for him to react, and boy does he react. Levi nearly has a heart attack and only calms down when he realizes it's only you. Did you come to play games? You should've texted him and he’d set everything up! But wait... that's not it?

You had a nightmare and of all the places you could go, you came to HIM?? Levi's having a hard time pushing down the grin on his face, but he collects himself for your sake. Now's no time to be feeling giddy when his best friend is in need!

He might not be great at comforting people, but he knows what helps him when he has nightmares. So he wraps you up in a blanket and pulls up a chair for you to use so you can watch him game. This is better than thinking about that other stuff, right?

"I'll turn down the screen brightness, and- UWAH! W-wait! Um... no, it's fine. I don't mind if you lean against me like that. You're tired, so it's probably more comfortable like that. I'll keep still, okay..?"

Satan

Nightmares aren't something Satan experiences often, being born of rage and the only pure demon in the house. He reads enough horror novels that he's practically become immune to anything scary.

But that doesn't mean he never has bad dreams, so when you come into his room to tell him about yours, his expression softens up. You caught him in the middle of reading, but you're more important than any silly book.

Satan gives you that warm look he reserves only for you (and cats), and gestures for you to come closer. He's got the second comfiest bed in the house, the first being Belphie's. Topped with warm quilts and plenty of pillows to support him as he reads, you're wrapped up in warm comfort once you join him.

Especially when he wraps an arm around you, giving you a curious look. He can be a little too curious at times, so he immediately asks what your nightmare was about.

"If you're interested, I have a guidebook for dream interpretations. I could try to find out the root of your worries, or... you could spend the night here instead? I wouldn't mind having you by my side until morning."

Asmo

Asmo is VERY invested in his beauty sleep. Even a slight deviation in his schedule could be disastrous for his complexion! His brothers know better than to disturb him lest they feel like dying, but you? You're the only exception... Lucky, huh? ❤️

When you touch him, he barely stirs. It takes a couple of shakes to get him to wake up, and then he's whining and grumbling until he realizes who's there. How could he be upset when he gets to wake up to your gorgeous face?

But right now.. your expression isn't bright and sunny at all. You look distressed, and he soon learns it because a pesky nightmare has been harassing you all night. He couldn't be happier that you chose HIM of all people for your comfort!

While there are many things he could do to help you forget about your bad dream, he opts for carefully guiding you into his bed, cooing sweet nothings until he's got you in his arms. You're enveloped in the smell of his sweet body lotion while he presses kiss after gentle kiss across your temple and down the bridge of your nose.

"There there, love. To think a nightmare has put you in such a state.. It's unforgivable! I'll get rid of all those worries so you can spend the rest of the night dreaming about my beauty! Or... about you and I. Wouldn't that be the perfect dream?"

Beel

Beel sleeps almost as soundly as Belphie does, and his monstrously loud snoring drowns out most sound, including your quiet knocking on his bedroom door.

But when you come in and tug on his sleeve, Beel's eyes blink open and he lets out a confused grunt, letting his eyes focus on the darkness around him. Where did that mountain of rainbow pizza go?? He wasn't even halfway done, and- Oh. MC.

You had a nightmare?? Beel stands up immediately and wears a look of worry, pulling you into a gentle hug. You look like you need one.

He's not the best when it comes to comforting words, but he can just show you how he feels. That's good too, isn't it? Maybe if he hugs you for long enough, you won't remember your nightmare.

"Do you want to take my bed? I'll sleep on the sofa, so- ah. Together? ...That's fine, too. I'll hold you close, so you don't have to be afraid anymore."

Belphie

The heaviest sleeper in the entire Devildom, it's a literal miracle that you managed to wake him up. Still, he's only half awake, and staring blankly at you while you explain why you're there.

A nightmare, huh? He's had plenty of those. If that's all it is, then just climb into bed with him. Belphie lazily pulls back his blankets and opens his arms for you, gesturing expectantly.

And once you're nice and cozy, he pulls you even closer until the gap between you is closed, and all you can feel is his warmth. He buries his face into your neck, tickling your skin with his breath.

His slow, heavy breathing makes you wonder if he's fallen back to sleep just like that, but he gives your side a reassuring squeeze and lets his eyes open slightly to look into yours.

"Must've been pretty scary if you came all the way here. No matter how many bad dreams you have, I'll be right here when you wake up. It feels better to wake up in my arms, doesn't it?"

[silverdelirium]

hii!

idk if ur request are still open but if they are, could you write something with the marauders?? maybe dilf!sirius or stripper!reader?? (only if you’re confortable with it!)

btw i loved your theo smut😭<3

STRIP CLUB | S.B

ty baby<3

summary: your best friend’s dad finds you working at a strip club.

warnings: small sir kink, squirting, oral ( female receiving ), fingering, bit of drinking at the start, small degrading, praising.

———

sirius needed a drink and he needed it now.

he didn’t even acknowledge what club he stumbled on, but from the view it gave, they had alcohol. and that’s all that mattered to sirius. he needed to wash away all stress, rage, and irritation from today; and what better way to do it than getting drunk?

“one firewhiskey” he demanded once he settled on the barstool at the bar. the young bartender giving a quick nod and getting to work.

it was then that sirius had a chance to look around, the place was cluttered with people. loud chatter almost drowning out the music. he realized everyone’s sight was settled onto the centre of the room.

sirius craned his neck to get a good look at what seemed to be catching everyone’s interest.

ah, he thought.

this is a strip club.

he hummed in acknowledgement when the bartender placed his drink in front of him, whisking it away and walking closer to the scene as the alcohol burned his throat, a low vibration bubbled from his chest at the taste, already getting rid of all that pent up tension in his muscles.

the atmosphere in the club had suddenly changed when sirius finished his drink. everyone went quiet before cheering loudly when two beautiful women stepped on the stage. the one at the right had red lingerie on, hugging her body in all the right places. her bronze skin seemed to compliment the colour of her attire and her long dark hair moved in rhythm with her movements. the one at the left had a pink with a black corset on, a small thong leaving little to the imagination. sirius eyes travelled from her smooth legs to her defined waist, to her pushed up cleavage and to her- face.

the realization came crashing down on sirius like a bucket of cold water.

there you were. his daughter’s best friend all dolled up dancing to the beat of the music around the pole. and he silently cursed himself for getting hard at the same little girl that visits his house every weekend. did you always go to his house after giving this people a good show? giving them something for their little wank-bank?

as much as he hated to admit it, the mere image of you dancing sensually could’ve had him cumming on the spot. he also hated to admit that the fact that he wasn’t the only person in this place was bringing back that wrath that he had earlier.

was he supposed to be able to compose himself around you from now on? was he supposed to not have you over his knee the next time he had you alone. giving you an orgasm for every set of eyes that were watching you waltz around the stage?

his fingers twitched along with his cock when he saw you bend down to let a batty old man hand you a 100 dollar tip.

and that’s when your eyes met his piercing ones.

you seemed to freeze at his presence for a few moments before you were back to dancing, your vision still glued to his.

and the subtle smirk he sent your way was enough to confirm that— you were getting your brains fucked out by sirius black after this.

after a few more dances and tips, you and your friend got off the stage, your head snapping back to meet sirius’s direction; who was still staring at you with hooded eyes.

you threw him a lazy smile before making your way to the loo, knowing damn well that sirius was just a few steps behind you. the door barely touched the doorframe before he was wringing it open with such force that had you giving a small gasp when he abruptly grabbed ahold of your jaw, turning your head up at him.

“i didn’t know you could dance like that” were the first words he spoke to you in the whole evening.

“you barely know me at all, sir” you teased. the nickname you addressed him as seemed to spark something in him. and a short chuckle came from sirius before he was smashing his lips to yours, letting go of your face to knead the softness of your bum, he hooked a finger on the waistband of your thong before letting it snap back on your flesh, coaxing a whimper from your mouth.

“you filthy little thing, getting me all hard in front of everyone. you’re gonna have me thinking of this pretty pussy for the rest of the week, and i’m gonna have you looking all ruined once i’m done with you” he growled in between kisses, hoisting you up on the counter and advancing his kisses downwards on your neck.

you threw your head back with a blissful sigh as sirius grazed his teeth against your sweet spot, your body ignoring the alarms going off on your brain that screamed: this is your best friend’s dad! what are you doing? but with the way sirius crouched down so he was at level with your sopping cunt, his beard giving you that delicious burn that you were gonna feel for the rest of the night, you really couldn’t give less of a fuck that this was wrong.

“oh fuck” you whispered as sirius dragged your panties down, groaning slightly at the sight of your dripping pussy. “fuck baby, can’t wait to have this tight pussy milking me dry” he mumbled before diving in, lapping up at your juices in an instant.

you released a strangled moan as sirius flicked his tongue over your buzzing clit, the pads of his fingers teasing your slit. your hands flew down to grip his hair as he entered two fingers at one, sucking around your bundle of nerves in a way that had you curling your toes.

“oh my god, sir-” you moaned out, thighs shaking with anticipation at the same time sirius curled his fingers upwards, caressing your g-spot in the most dazzling way ever.

he continued his assault on your clit whilst his fingers pumped in and out of you, the stimulation provoking that coil in your belly to snap without a warning. “i’m gonna fucking cum” you managed to whine out, bucking your hips up before cumming around sirius’ fingers, not even giving him time to respond.

your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you cried out in pure euphoria— your mind barely registered when was it that sirius had stood up, fingers working rapidly against his belt before letting his engorged cock spring out, he stroked a few times before nudging your stimulated clit with the tip, watching with hungry eyes as you jolted your hips upwards as a silent plea.

“beg” he demanded.

“wha-”

“beg for it. show me how much of a desperate slut you are.” his eyes were darkened with lust as he spoke each word.

“please— please. i need it, i want you to fuck me hard and fast, sir. please” you pouted, giving him your best puppy eyes that you knew would always get you what you wanted.

“atta girl” he purred before pushing himself inside your gushing pussy, quivering cries leaving your lips like a chant.

sirius settled for a bruising pace since the start, rocking his hips into yours until you had your back arched, giving him a clear view of your breasts that were still trapped in the corset from earlier.

“so tight baby— can’t wait to see my cum painting this pretty thighs” he moaned, gripping hour hips harshly before fastening his speed, dirty sounds of clapping skin echoing throughout the bathroom.

you went cross-eyed as his tip destroyed your g-spot, tiny stars decorating your vision with every harsh thrust. you screamed his name over and over again until your throat became tired, reaching your fingers down to soothe your aching bundle of nerves.

your hand was swatted away by none other than the male who gave you a look before massaging your clit tightly. “who is making you feel this good, pretty girl?” he taunted, a prideful smirk making its way to his lips as he watched you babble his name, cunt squeezing his cock that was still drilling into your hole.

“look at that sweet cunt squeezing me. i’m gonna have the whole club knowing who’s making you feel this fucking good” he grunted.

you went to answer him but the only thing that came out was a shattering moan as you squirted all over the bathroom’s counter, soaking yours and sirius’ thighs.

“fuck!” he moaned as he pumped you full with his load. rope after rope spraying your walls.

ragged breaths filled the room as he carefully slid out of you, both slowly coming down from cloud nine. sirius grunted at the view of your overused pussy blowing out his cum. counter completely drowned in your arousal.

“round two at the house?” you suggested.

———

🏷: @selenesheart @malfoy-girl

[myuni-moon]

#sweet dreams

reactions to you giving them a kiss goodnight ft. genshin cult! zhongli, childe, diluc, kaeya

if you like my content, consider donating to my ko-fi!

warning: yandere content, yandere cult

zhongli is thankful for even the lightest of your affections. he revels in the way your lips press against his forehead before you head off to bed for the day. he doesn't make his satisfaction known, simply thanking you before leaving you to retire, but he can't brush off the buzz in his system when you dote on him like that.

he hums, bidding you goodnight as your silhouette falls back into the shadows. his eyes are glazed over like honey, swirling in a trance and replaying your kiss over and over in his head. then he realizes that possibly some of your less reverent acolytes would be getting the same treatment, and zhongli scowls at the thought.

unlike him, they are not worthy of your attention. he has worshipped you for thousands of years, and the work most others have provided thus far can't even amount to the time he spent on his knees, waiting on you hand and foot. why should they be seen as praiseworthy compared to zhongli who not only serves to your every beck and call but has insurrected tradition upon tradition all in your name?

the others do not deserve you by any means, and perhaps it's time he whipped them into shape.

childe's body goes rigid at first. he is not used to the sensation of kindness, especially from a being such as you. he forgets that even if you lust for the rage of battle just as much as he does, you are gentle, you are soft-- you are kind. just as he lowers to his knees, he's hyperaware of the way you hold down onto his shoulders and press your lips on his skin.

once you have gone, he still remains in that position. blood pumps through his veins; he finds it similar to the feeling of blood on his hands and the sting of his wounds. childe licks his dry limps, breathing going ragged and hands shaking. the small taste of your divinity that you gave him creates an addiction that the fatui harbinger wants more of. but he can't disturb you-- at least, not right now.

so he waits there until the break of dawn with bags under his eyes and a grin so eerie that it drives away any other worshippers currently in your abode. he doesn't move, not even flinch, even when zhongli says it's time for him to go. he won't go, not until you give him another one of your kisses, and he'll pile up as many bodies as he can just to receive one.

diluc feels guilty when you whisper to him goodnight followed by a kiss to his jaw. he watches your eyes droop and your head bob while you walk towards him. diluc feels tense when you stand on your tippy-toes, lean on him, and tilt your head just enough to let your lips graze the bottom of his jaw. it leaves him sweating and scared as he hesitantly carries you back to your room after you tell him you're too tired to walk back.

he settles you under the covers before sitting down on a chair beside your bed. he watches your chest move up and down in a rhythm, breath blowing into the air. diluc is apprehensive about reaching for your fingers, but he makes the decision to envelop your hand in his palm anyway. he observes the ridges of your knuckles, and wonders if he deserved the softness of your touch.

perhaps when he was younger, he might've been able to touch you the way he wanted to now. instead of his hands stained black with the faults. he'd accumulated for the past two years, he'd be holding you with the gloves of a pure and valiant knight instead of the dyed leather of a sinner like him. he knows he cannot revere you the way zhongli does or fight for you the way childe does, but he can vow to yo that he'd protect your purity with all his being and to rid the world of all things evil for you to live carefree as he once did. he slips out of your room with a profound determination. before he closes the door though, diluc smiles and whispers for you to have the sweetest dreams. then, he's off again as the darknight hero.

kaeya revels in your affections, practically preening like a peacock. he's quick to gloat about it to zhongli, the number one person he's wanted to piss off since you came to teyvat. his grin is alluring, practically pulling you into maybe giving him one more kiss (two kisses if he decides to be extra suave and flirt with you a bit).

he holds it above everyone’s heads after that point. anyone and everyone awake would be victim to his boasting, mostly the previous geo archon. he’ll be so dramatic about it that he’s waxing poetry just describing a kiss too casual to really be “slow and delicate, like the gentle caress of the winds with the softness of celestia’s clouds.”

alone, kaeya actually daydreams about it. his chest flutters with adoration, and he’s reminded again how entrancing you are. he even dreams of it that night. kaeya dreams of your touch that wants him, your touch that affirms his existence that he’s so despised for years. he feels like he is born anew as someone that finally is loved for who he truly is instead of being just a pretty face and a sly mind. your little goodnight kiss completely validates that you still deem him wanted.

[thesolferino]

Touchdown

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: smut, minors please keep scrolling!

⤷ word count: 3.2k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon

— summary: clay loses a football game, and while he’s already mad, you decide to rile him up even more.

“God fucking damnit.”

Clay muttered, pulling his helmet off and slamming it against one of the benches as he said the last word, making you almost jump as you quietly trailed along behind him, feet following in his footsteps. He ran a sweaty hand through his hair, wiping beads of sweat off the sides of his face as he moved towards his locker, carelessly hanging the helmet in its place as he huffed a frustrated sigh.

The locker room was empty, no traces of anyone’s belongings left, as Clay took his sweet time yelling and arguing with the coach after he instructed the rest of the team to change and get out of his sight; everyone had left before he even reached the lockers. The game hadn’t ended well for his team - the game tied, and he was feeling confident, patting their center, Nick, on the back in encouragement, shooting a pearly smile to those who cheered them on and filled the bleachers. They played overtime, and a coin was tossed, during which his team ultimately lost. Looking back on it in the pessimistic state that he was in now, throwing the towel he used to wipe his face at the wall, that should’ve been the first sign it wouldn’t end well. 

The other team scored one final touchdown in the last three minutes of the game, the crowd’s cheers and protests mixing as the opposing team’s points shot up by six, leaving them victorious by one single point and Clay upset, pent up rage and bitterness stuck inside his body with nowhere to go now that the game was over and balls couldn’t be thrown. He stayed arguing with the coach for longer than he should have, even though he simply refused to budge. You’d managed to come down from the bleachers just in time to see him hold back a curse and speedwalk towards the lockers, following close behind, not even daring to call out his name.

“Damnit!” he shouted again, sitting down on the bench, running both of his hands through his hair fervently, huffing out large exhales every time they moved back and forth. The rest of his gear was still on despite coming here specifically to change - his jersey was still draped over his large shoulder pads and chest, one glove on and the other chucked at the wall as well as the towel, shorts and knee pads in place, too. You carefully reached out to place a warm hand on his shoulder, at least giving him some type of assurance, hoping it would calm the fire that burnt in him, mighty and frantic, at least a little. 

It seems to do nothing, though, and the fire in him just keeps growing taller and stronger, flames licking farther up his throat, seconds away from escaping, burning him to ashes.

They do exactly that - they engulf his entire body, and for the split second that his gaze catches yours, you can see his eyes glint with flames, before he stands up so quickly it makes you dizzy, and presses his lips to yours hungrily. His fire engulfed you, spreading through you like an infectious disease, warmness swarming you from head to toe as he pulled you closer to him by the waist, leaving fiery fingerprints everywhere his hands touched you like hot coal.

He grunted into your kiss as he walked forward, backing you into the wall. The kiss was so unruly, so much more dizzying than any of the delicate ones you’d share in your bedroom - it was forceful, daring, scratchy, and when both of his rough arms wrapped themselves around your waist and he murmured: “Jump.” into your mouth, you knew you weren’t leaving that room without bruises. 

Despite being aware of that, though, you couldn’t help but test his dominance, at least a little bit. Being bratty was second nature; after all, you were the air to his fire. When you blew strong enough, you could calm it down, but when you blew however you pleased, you’d ignite it more intensely than any gasoline ever could. And you couldn’t take the fire out this time, so you might as well fuel it to the best of your abilities. 

“I don’t want to. And take off the uniform, you’re not gonna fuck me with those shoulder pads on.” 

He pulled away, staying close enough to your face so you could feel every riled exhale, enough so you could see his jaw clench and green eyes boring into yours so madly that you almost cowered under his gaze - however, you persisted. There was really no reason to answer like that, and both of you knew it, but you wanted to toy with him, have him earn your submission, no matter if he’s pissed out of his mind or not. In hindsight, that may have not been a good idea, and you realised that the longer he said nothing and stared at you in pure anger, but there’s no going back now, is there?

“I’ll fuck you however I want.” Clay muttered through gritted teeth. “And you’ll like it no matter what.”

With that, his arms were back around your hips, lifting you off the ground as if you weighed nothing, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist when he pushed you to lean against the wall. His lips were glued back onto yours in no time, your hand automatically darting to bury itself in his hair and pull, his fingers on your hips so tight they’d surely leave red marks. His lips left yours and you almost whined but held back when they moved to your neck, barely wasting any time before biting down on it, earning a gasp from you that you foolishly hoped he didn’t hear despite knowing there’s no way he missed it. He sucked on it, hard, to the point that you knew there’s no way it could be any shade other than dark, dark purple in a couple days’ time. 

He set you down briefly, and you did your best to try and hide how impatient and upset you were getting, but he grabbed the hem of his jersey and pulled it up, tossing it to the side before getting rid of the shoulder pads as well, your eyes swerving over his sweaty, naked chest as he silently raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to do the same. You did nothing except lift your gaze back to Clay’s and stare at him with no emotion whatsoever.

“Take it off.” He commanded, gaze switching between your chest and eyes, waiting for you impatiently. You exhaled through your nose, just short of a chuckle.

“Do it yourself.” You shot back, seeing him cock his head to the side in an attempt to compose himself and flush down the anger, despite knowing it won’t work. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He scowled, hands immediately grabbing at your shirt and pulling it off, fingers quick on your back, fiddling with the clasp of your bra. 

“And yet you still wanna fuck me like a dog in heat.” You retorted when the clasp loosened and he pulled the fabric down your arms, pressing another hungry kiss to your lips while he rolled one of your nipples through his fingers.

“You think you’ll still be talking to me like this when you’re begging me to cum and I say no?” Clay whispers in your ear right before his mouth moves down to circle his tongue around your other nipple, and neither of you fail to notice the goosebumps that cover your whole body. You don’t even get to manage a word out, syllables falling back into your throat when you swallow upon feeling his hands sneak themselves under your skirt, gripping your thighs. 

“With how she’s talking, I’m sure my little brat isn’t wet right now. Right?” you feel your heart speed up when his hand moves a little further to the right and runs his fingers over your damp panties, brushing over your opening, fingers barely ghosting your clit. His pointer finger catches onto the fabric and pushes the underwear aside, leaving space for his middle finger to feel the juices that pour out of you, his touch feeling incredibly cold against your heat, feeling the tips of his fingers coat themselves in you before pulling away. His eyes meet yours paired with a smug smirk that you’ll never get to erase out of your memory.

“Oops.” he grins. “Seems like I was wrong.”

And then, when you least expect it, his fingers shove themselves in you, eliciting a muffled whimper, legs stumbling backwards to lean on the wall again when they start pumping in and out, lewd noises deafening you as you feel drops of wetness slipping down your thighs. He still persistently works his fingers inside your underwear, thumb sneaking inside too to rub at your clit, and that’s when he pushes a moan out of you, a sign of defeat - music to his ears. You can’t help it, can’t help any of it when it feels so good, when every time his wet finger brushes against your clit it sends a jolt through your whole body, your own hands twitching at the movement. 

Your whole body sets aflame, head blazing, sweat escaping through strands of your hair the longer he keeps going, fingers stuffed in you, thrusting in and out like it’s his last, pushing you towards your orgasm more and more. Sure enough, your stomach starts twisting and your abdomen coils, something inside you pushing you off the walls as you arch more and more and grind into his unrelenting fingers. 

“Cl-Clay… fuck, I’m-!” just as the words pass your lips, his fingers pull out, and the pleasure is entirely gone, ripped away from your hands as you stare up at him, feeling betrayed. Your hands instinctively move to your heat, as if of their own free will, but he grabs at your wrist before they make it to their destination.

“Don’t you dare. You come when I say so. I think I’ve made that very fucking clear, haven’t I?” Both of you know he’s stripped you of your brattiness when you say nothing, just swallow to mend your dry throat and quietly nod - you hate it, he loves it.

Clay pulls his shorts and underwear down his legs, and that’s when you realise you’re finally getting what you’ve been waiting for, so you hook your fingers around the waistband and pull your panties down, stepping out of them when you notice his cock, finally free and painfully throbbing as he strokes himself a few times. His eyes catch sight of the way you practically drool watching him, and he does nothing but scoff before your eyes meet.

“Get on the bench. All fours.” He commands and you comply, climbing onto one of them, arms and legs trembling where you place them.

“Watch your balance. I won’t be slow.” Clay says, guiding his cock into you, slowly pushing the tip inside as you hold your breath, waiting for him to just get on with it, already plenty stretched from the way his fingers fucked you open just seconds before.

“Won’t you now?” You murmur in irritation, words escaping you before you can even rationalise the fact that they won’t do you any good right now. “If you can’t play good, at least try to fuck me good.” 

He stopped in his tracks and you froze, only realising that you may have crossed the line after the words were already long out of your mouth, and you opened it to apologise, but didn’t even get to inhale properly when he suddenly buried himself in you to the hilt, almost tearing you apart when his hips collide with yours and you let out a pained yelp, his cock stretching you out ten times more than his fingers had.

You felt his whole hand wrap itself around your throat before he pulled you up by it, pressing his lips close to your ear so you could hear every last breath of his.

“You know I play as good as I fuck - and best believe, I’ll fuck that brat out of you.” Clay growled into your ear before pushing you back down, not even giving you time to grip the bench before pulling out and thrusting back in with a low groan, setting a fast pace from the start.

You bit down on your lip with more and more force with every thrust - he filled you to the hilt every time, and you were sure you were drawing blood by now, a slight metallic taste coating your tongue from how hard you were holding back your moans. You were absolutely not gonna let him fuck the brat out of you.

He kept pumping into you wildly, pace brutal and unforgiving, and it took everything in you to be as quiet as possible, but then you felt a cold finger carefully rub at your sensitive clit, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore, a loud moan getting pushed out of your throat.

“Fuck! Clay…” you whimpered, trying to stabilise yourself on your shaky arms but barely succeeding because the more he pumped inside of you, the more it felt like he was forcing every thought in your brain out, replacing it with only him and his name. The hand gripping your hips left them, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling it whenever he thrusted back in, making you hiss out in a sick mix of pleasure and pain.

“F-Fuck, I…” your throat ran dry from how fast and ragged your breathing stayed - it felt like he was going faster and faster every second.

“This good enough for you, princess?” he exaggerated, mocking you, a little out of breath himself as he pushed farther and farther, thumb never leaving your clit. You swallowed, not able to give him a proper response besides dumbed down words and broken syllables. He angled himself a little different with the next thrust, which made him dive into a spot he hadn’t touched before, making you see stars as you let out a huge gasp, grabbing at his arm that pulled on your hair in a blind attempt to ground yourself.

“R-Right there… fuck, please don’t-don’t stop!” you cried out, a new wave of heat flooding your entire body as he kept hitting the same spot over and over again, making you blind, white imprinted behind your eyelids. Your brain, along with any rational thoughts turned off completely, leaving you with nothing but moans and gasps of his name and how scarily good his cock felt in you.

You felt your climax creeping up on you, slowly but surely, the heat from every part of your body accumulating in the pit of your stomach, feeling the knot ready to come undone any second now. You clenched around him painfully, unable to help the spasms, seconds away from orgasm to the point you could practically taste it. It seemed like Clay could taste it, too, because he slowed down, thrusting into you lazily, like he hadn’t fucked your brains out a moment ago.

“Say sorry.” he said, voice as stable and confident as ever, unwavering compared to your shaky, barely still there one. 

“Wh-what?” It took the words a second to make their way from your ears to your brain, hazy mind clouded with nothing but him, unable to process what he’s even saying when he’s buried so deep in you.

“I said, say sorry.” he bumped into your sweet spot once again, leaving you mewling and your eyes closing on their own.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.” you stuttered, trying to piece your thoughts together while you could.

“Sorry for what?” he asked. “Sorry for the things you said, or sorry because you know I won’t let you come?” 

“I’m-I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t-… I promise I didn’t mean it… Please, let me come, baby…” you whimpered out, grabbing at his arm again, trying to gain the little bit of sympathy you hoped he still had left.

“You’ll have to beg a little harder for me to even think about it, princess.” he chuckled, like the whole thing was damn hilarious, working his fingers on your clit again as your breathing stammered and you fought your best to get some words out.

“God, baby, please, you-you know I didn’t mean it… I’m sorry, so sorry…” you breathed out with another tired gulp. “You-...I-... please, baby, you can’t do this, I’m sorry, okay?”

“I can do whatever I fucking want to and I have some reason for it. What’s stopping me from using you like my own little fuckdoll right now and leaving you here with nothing except my own cum dripping out of you? What’s stopping me?” Clay snapped, pulling you by the hair again. You gulped again, feeling actually nervous this time.

“I… Please, baby, I won’t do it again, I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean any of the stuff I said, please, can you just-” 

He interrupted you mid sentence with such a rough thrust that you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, his fingers back on your clit, feeling like you’re getting lifted up to the skies themselves once again. He managed to find the same angle, hitting the spot that made you feel hell and heaven all at once, pleasure prickling at every part of your body as you loudly moaned, putting no effort into concealing it or keeping silent anymore.

You felt the knot in your stomach once again, quicker than ever, slowly unraveling itself and your cries turned into ramblings, begging him to let you come.

“Pl-please, can I please… Fuck! Please, can I- I’m so close, shit, baby, can I please-” you stuttered, tears starting to pool in the corners of your eyes as you could almost touch your climax.

“Fuck, baby. Come for me.” 

As soon as the words escaped his lips, you felt the knot finally untie itself and you let out a guttural moan, not caring who would hear or not - the pleasure was sickeningly sweet, almost making you ill, knocking you to your elbows as you couldn’t see, hear, feel nothing except the wave of pleasure washing over you repeatedly, beads of sweat running down your body.

The clenching of your heat against him while you climaxed drove Clay to the brink of insanity, coming himself before he could even realise it, filling you up to the brim with a few final thrusts. He stayed inside you for a few seconds while you were catching your breath, watching you uncontrollably spasm around him as you came down from the high, clenching around him every so often, all your senses overstimulated.

When your breathing evened out, he finally pulled out, grabbing the box of tissues from his locker as he slowly started to clean you up, wiping over your sensitive parts, holding you up lightly by the stomach so you wouldn’t fall whenever he touched one of the tender parts. You huffed out a large exhale.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Clay. Remind me to never provoke you after a game again, what the fuck.” you said, voice still shaky, and you heard him cackle behind you.

“I’ll probably be mad for the rest of the day anyways, but whatever.”

“You played good, by the way. Really good. I just wanted to piss you off.” You admitted, watching him stand up and look at you with a knowing smile, before pressing a light peck against your lips. 

“Yeah, I figured.”

[chemicalpink]

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Words: 4.7k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff if you squint really hard, childhood friends to lovers AU

Warnings: unprotected sex, bathroom sex, infidelity, JK is a heartthrob that is bad at feelings, YN realises she’s been in love with JK all along.

A/N: this is me trying to write longer fics, I liked how this one came out yayyy. This goes out to the @thebtswritersclub​ monthly prompt _____ to lovers, in this case it’s childhood friends to lovers. I just- I really liked how it came out, I’m so excited to know what you guys think of it.

Summary: Falling in love is such a curious thing in life, Jungkook would know best, after pinning over you for years on end, only to have his best friend take away his opportunity, or does he?

The sun was shining brightly over the park as you made your way down the slide, hot skin scorching at the contact with the yellow plastic, although you couldn’t bring yourself to care as much as your mother would, meeting Sungho at the end of it, who was covering his eyes as best as his arms would allow him to do, summer was almost coming to an end and you two had decided to spend every single second of it together, much to both of your mothers’ dismay who had long decided to take turns to tire both of you out by the neighbourhood park, nothing too exciting, if it weren’t for your young imaginative minds combined, which turned you into the closest a six year old could get to being a menace.

As you smiled brightly at your friend, you couldn’t help but turn your head towards an almost inaudible whimper coming from the shaded side of the park, finding a kid around your age plopped down by the tree, desperately drying his eyes with the back of his hand, small sobs coming out of his lips as three other kids, which you knew to be a little older than you and quite disrespectful at that, kept laughing at the boy, so really, what else were you supposed to do if not come in to save the day. “Come on Y/N they’ll make fun of us too” Sungho said as he tried to tug you away, only to have you stand your ground firmly

“If they make fun of me, I won’t cry” you crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest

“Y/N let’s just go”

“You go, Sungho” Sungho was always the type of kid that your mother kept reminding you to be more like, always righteous, never picking fights like you were known to do, but you really couldn’t stand watching the mysterious kid crying by himself while no one else did anything in the slightest. So you stood between him and the three kids that were still making fun of him, head high, fists up by your sides in a superhero pose “You shouldn’t make fun of others”

“Why don’t we make fun of both of you then, Y/N?”

“At least I can put my shirt shirt when I’m dressing myself, Areum” the girl looked down for half a second before staring you down, full of rage before huffing and turning around in true mean girl fashion.

You turn back to find a pair of bambi eyes staring at you, sobs silenced, although his chest still showed him trying to fully catch his breath. You extend your hand for him to take it so that he could stand up “I’m Y/N what’s your name?”

“I’m Jungkook” you were quick to grab his arm and pull him to where Sungho had watched the whole scene with Areum, now staring at the way you dragged the slightly shorter boy towards him

“Well Jungkook, this is Sungho and I just decided that all of us three are going to be best friends forever” the small boy smiled at that, bunny teeth showing in the process, eyes sparkly with wonder and pure appreciation, contrasting the look on Sungho’s face.

“Y/N I think you need to have girl friends to have these sleepovers with, Jungkook and I are boys” Sungho says as soon as you pass him the mirror and he is left staring at his reflection with a ton of glitter eyeshadow on his face, you turn to look at Jungkook, who is currently sprawled out playing with his nintendo, a set of pigtails adoring his head along with the hottest pink lipstick you could find

“I don’t mind it” he stuffed his mouth with chips as he continued to play on his console, not sparing any of you a look, although you smiled at him fondly, grateful to have him play along whenever Sungho didn’t feel like it, which seemed to be more and more as all of you grew older.

“Well I’m going to take this off” he said as he ran into the bathroom to wash his face. Good luck trying to get rid of glitter.

You huffed out a sigh at how boring it was getting if Sungho didn’t like to play your games, along with Jungkook being stuck inside his own little world. “This is so boriiiing”

“It was your idea Y/N”

“Yeah but you guys are no fun”

Jungkook pauses his game to turn to look at you “We can watch a movie if you’d like”

If someone were to tell 6 year old you that twelve years later, the kid that used to make fun of you would turn into your best friend, you would have probably laughed in their face, although as years went by, Areum had finally gotten better in terms of personality, up to the point where she had a full on talk with you before you decided to give it a try, even more so as she now took it as her job to protect you in high school, seeing as she was a year older than you.

“Jungkook has changed” the brunette said while taking a seat next to you inside the cozy smoothie shop, crumpling up her receipt inside her bag distractedly as you just stared at her, not knowing what had prompted her to talk about your best friend, Jungkook wasn’t exactly what one would consider popular, especially amongst the higher grades, especially not given the bickering grudge he held against Areum after all those years.

“What do you mean?”

“Just- seems like before summer he was this scrawny little thing, deer eyes, soft smiles” you looked at her intently, Jungkook had gone on vacation with his family for weeks as soon as finals were over, leaving with the promise of hanging out for the few days before school started again, similar to how you were now hanging out with Areum, her having arrived back a few hours before Jungkook “Now- well”

There were a million thoughts running inside your mind, some seemingly more plausible than others, tow hich yopu found yourself asking “Areum, did you fuck Jungkook?”

“I mean- we were both staying at the same hotel Y/N” Areum sipped on heir smoothie as a way to act coy about it, wide eyes turned the other way at the prospect of having said out loud that her latest conquest was none other than little Jungkook, the guy she had always made fun of for one or another reason

“Oh god you slept with Jungkookie” and you really tried to picture her, accepted into college, beautiful Areum, long lean legs, model faced Areum, flirt queen that always seemed to go for older guys Areum, paired up with sweet Jungkookie, sure, your best friend was cute, handsome even, there was no denying it, he was just not- Areum level handsome, Areum liked going out to party, let men shower her in drinks while Jungkook absolutely loved staying home battling Sungho in the newest video game that was around “I-I have no words”

“Y/N- Y/N don’t judge until you’ve tapped it” your friend seemed to space out for a second, as if looking back at her time with Jungkook, dreamily. “The guy got buff”

And sure he did, not only did Jungkook was now full of muscle, he also apparently had renewed his wardrobe, bought a motorcycle and apparently had even grown a few centimeters taller, or at least that much was said by Sungho as you three met up for lunch the day before classes started again, trying to catch up as you did every year when the three of you didn’t get a chance to hang out much.

“So are we getting that newly released game Kook?” Sungho mentioned in what appeared to be the background, your eyes completely fixated on whomever the man sitting in front of you was, definitely not your best friend Jungkook.

“Nah dude, I sold all my consoles and games to buy my bike” your eyes widened at the confession, probably mirroring the uttermost shocked look that Sunho was also sporting. Jeon Jungkook selling his videogames was definitely a sign of the apocalypse. You were about to make a comment before you heard a very familiar voice behind you, making you turn your head towards it.

“Jungkookie, you wanted me to come over?” her eyes had that sparkle in them which you have come to recognise as her being infatuated by someone, even if she didn’t really talked about it openly, you turned towards Jungkook in disbelief

“Yeah, Areum, lose my number”

You consciously close your mouth at the exchange as Areum backed away from the table muttering an ‘oh..okay’ as Jungkook smiled daily at her, your eyes lock in surprise with Sungho’s, both of you silently agreeing that this Jungkook was certainly a new side neither of you could yet guess whether or not you would continue to be able to befriend, although the history between the three of you spoke volumes.

And just like that, enough to get whiplash from it, Jungkook’s lazy uninterested eyes were replaced by the squinty smile you had learned to adore over the years, bunny teeth showing as his laugh resonated in the restaurant “Oh god you guys should have seen your faces!”

Your eyes travelled along the expanse of the space you three were in, looking at Sungho for a clue to pick up about what was happening, coming up empty handed as he spoke first “Dude I almost had a heart attack, I thought you had sold your games!”

“Oh no that I did” Jungkook took a sip out of his drink calmly

You tried not to show how nothing made sense in your mind “And that thing with...Areum?”

He placed his cup down, looking at you with wide eyes humming softly “Yeah that was a thing too, she’s been texting me non stop after we hooked up. I’m just glad I’m back with you guys”

So Jungkook had changed, that much was true, just not as much as he let people believe. Sure enough, the guy was now pure muscle, rode a bike everywhere, and made it his lifeplan to conquer as many girls as his schedule allowed him too; he also made a few other friends outside of your friends' circle, enough for rumours to go around about him being involved in shady business, or him hooking up with somebody’s mum. Either way, if you were to turn a blind eye to his social persona, Jungkook was still your and Sungho’s little Jungkookie, bambi wide eyes that teared up whenever it was movie night and you picked some chick flick, bunny teeth and loud giggles as he played a prank on Sungho, even though you could tell his heart just wasn’t in it as it was before.

“I’m gonna ask Y/N out” Sungho has asked Jungkook to meet him outside of campus on the first weeks of college as all three of you decided to attend together, uninterested on whatever it was that he was about to tell him, but trying to keep up his fractured friendship with the man (and you) he had shown up, even so a little fashionably late to make his point clear.

“And you’re telling me this because..”

“I don’t want to make it awkward, Jeon” Jungkook scoffs before rolling his eyes at Sungho “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you little boy crush on her for years”

“What I think you haven’t noticed is that I don’t do feelings” Jungkook retorts as he approaches him “And although I find Y/N to be quite fuckable if you ask me, I appreciate her enough not to put her in a weird place like you’re about to do, asshole”

Once weeks rolled around, things kept on being as the were after that fateful summer where Jungkook completely reinvented himself, even as semesters came and went, Jungkook grew a bit more separate from both Sungho and yourself, although it became a little harder to discern whether it was because of Jungkook or due to the fact that Sungho and you had started dating during the first semester of college. Sungho had no real answer to give you when asked about it, saying that outside of the scheduled movie night you three kept on sharing, he barely even texted Jungkook on his own.

“I heard your girl is getting married” his friend said as he handed him an opened beer, taking his place back against his bike in the middle of the night after some race they had gone to near the outskirts of Seoul.

Jungkook took a swing out of the bottle, squinting at the questionable choice in alcohol “I don’t have a girl Jihoon”

“Oh? Then what’s Y/N?'' he felt the blood draining from his face, heart heavy, breath hitching inside his throat as soon as your name left his lips. Of fucking course Sungho would try to marry you before you graduated. That bastard.

It was quite funny really, Jungkook knew from the very start, back when all three of you had 6 years old and you had saved him from a set of mean kids in the park, that Sungho was never fond of him, or rather, of the relationship you had developed with him, sure, the two men had bonded over a few shared interests as they grew up, but the only thing that kept them together was you. Sometimes Jungkook guesses it could have been him instead of Sungho, asking you out, sharing nights together, even being about to get married. But those thoughts were only wishful thinking, he had long ago decided that you deserved so much more than what he could give you, what with his eternal fear and inability to give himself up to others. So he had let you go, never thinking about the possibility of Sungho taking a place he wasn't worthy of either.

"Good for her"

It wasn't long after learning that you were engaged, that the invitation arrived to his apartment, just a few days after graduation. It wasn't really a surprise anymore, even back when he first heard the news, it wasn't that surprising, he guessed it was the years of knowing both you and Sungho, learning your patterns, that he had somehow seen it coming. It didn't make it any less hard to wish you weren't about to walk down the aisle to a man that wasn't him though. But he kept repeating to himself to stop being selfish, he had lost his chance, not that he ever had one to begin with, but as long as you were happy, he would be too.

And you really did seem happy, so he was willing to just ignore the way that his chest seemed to constrict every time your eyes locked on his from across the room as the rehearsal dinner, you were sporting a gorgeous emerald dress, the same colour as when you two first met eighteen years back, his mind spinning with impossible scenarios as each minute that passed really just turned out to be a minute closer to watch you walk down the aisle to another man, one that was supposed to be his best friend at that.

“Bride’s or groom’s” A sweet female voice called him as he sipped on his fifth? sixth? champagne flute, finding a woman staring at him with what he has come to recognise as lust.

“Eh.. you could say both”

A glimpse of recognition could be seen in her eyes before she spoke again “You must be Jungkook then, the overseeked bachelor”

“In the flesh” He smirked at her as she took a hold of his hand, guiding him upstairs to where you and your soon to be husband had booked bridesmaids and groomsmen alike for the night. Not that the blonde had anything to do with how utterly horrible he was feeling about the whole wedding situation but perhaps fucking his frustrations out would help just a little.

Jeon Jungkook was never the one to stick around until morning, that much was true, and although he might be known for a varying of unspeakable things, nothing could have prepared him for what he had to witness at ungodly hours.

He picked up the rest of his clothing after half dressing himself, not even sparing a second glance at the woman that was laying on her bed peacefully, careful not to make more sounds than the inherently necessary, his curiosity is peaked as he hears faintly moaning and skin slapping skin coming from the room next door, seeing the door barely open, and against his better judgement he peeks inside only to feel his heart pounding against his chest, blood rushing inside his ears as he can’t seem to look away from the image presented to him. Sungho, your soon to be husband, the one that he used to consider his best friend for years on end, the oh so righteous Sungho, ever morally correct Sungho, bending your other so-called best friend and maid of honour, Areum, over the comforter as he fucked into her. A few hours before he got married to you. After everything that he had put him through, making him believe that it was in your best interest top let you go, that he should have handed you over to him, that he was the best option out of the two of you to build a life with.

Jungkook sees red and doesn’t quite remember anything other than Areum running out of the room as he punches Sungho in the face, receiving some punches back.

“You absolutely disgust me”

The bastard has the guts to laugh at him “You know, Jeon” he goes to inspect his face in the mirror “If you burst Y/N’s bubble, you’ll forever be remembered as the stupid little boy that was jealous enough on her wedding day to ruin her life”

Jungkook clenches his fists by his side before deciding to turn his heels and leave the room, vision still blurry in anger, breathing ragged, a small trickle of blood making its way down from his eyebrow as he almost automatically walked himself to the other side of the hostel where he knew you must have been resting, taking a few too many second to decide to knock on the door.

“Jungkook? What are you- oh god” sleep seems to leave you as soon as your eyes lock on his beat up face, him smiling at you in a futile attempt to have you not worry that much about his well being, but of course you were already searching for a first aid kit as he took a seat on your bed “Jungkookie, what happened?”

And perhaps he didn’t think it through that much, but he couldn’t let you walk yourself into a marriage blinded by the persona Sungho had always made you believe he was. “Y/N” he took your hands in his, stopping you from rubbing any more antiseptic into his cut “You’ll hear,a nd probably have already heard, too much shit about me”

His eyes beg you to stare at him intently, and although the whole scenario had you giggling out of nervousness, it soon died down “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N- Sungho is not the man he’s made us think he is” your eyes scan his face for any more clues on what he’s saying a syou feel a beeping sound closing in on your ears, overwhelmed by the situation “And he’ll probably say this is me just being a jealous asshole after being in love with you for more than half of my living years but-”

You stare at him in horror as your hands remove themselves from his hold as if he was burning, standing up from where you were seated next to him, feeling your whole world being crushed down a few hours before what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life “No” you take a step back as you hold your chest, feeling hot tears welling up in your eyes “Jungkook please don’t do this shit to me”

“Y/N just- don’t marry Sungho” somehow he had willed his voice to remain calm

Your head shook fervently at him, as if somehow the action would make him retreat his words “Sungho loves me, Jungkook”

His eyes were ice cold at your words “He loves you enough to fuck Areum a few hours before making you his wife”

He really didn’t mean the bite on his words as he said them, this had nothing to do with you and everything to do with that asshole you called finacé, so he could completely understand when through your tears, chest heavy with rage and head spinning you asked “Please leave”

And he did.

Everything seemed like a fever dream. The words that Jungkook had said, the implication that it had. And really, if it weren’t for the fact that Jungkook was gone from the whole ordeal, you could have sworn your life that it was nothing other than a nightmare, Areum was as bubbly as ever, helping you get ready. Sungho’s good morning text still found its way into your inbox. Jungkook had not only accused you fiancé of cheating, but had said he had always been in love with you, no further proof to his words, so you decided to go as planned, yet you found yourself hyper aware of every move Sungho made, especially when they involved Areum.

You stood in your pristine white dress in front of a couple dozens of guests as traditional words were spoken, your mind a thousand miles away as you kept on looking towards the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would open up, Jungkook would show up and stop you from making what could potentially be the worst mistake of your life.

"If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." your eyes trail to the soor, yearning to hear Jungkook’s voice amidst the otherwise silent chapel, but it never came.

“Hey, Y/N come dance with us,” one of your bridesmaids say as the night progresses after dinner, some loud beat taking over the venue at the reception, making everyone stand up to dance, including your now-husband as you find yourself sulking sitting on your designated table.

“I’m fine, you go” you try to flash her the biggest smile you can as she goes, leaving you once again with your thoughts. Thoughts that mainly involved Jungkook, figuring that after all these years, life had managed to finally separate you, heart yearning to have him close to you, the more you became aware of your current life path, the more you realised what a humongous mistake you had made. You had always thought that marrying Sungho would give you a sense of utter happiness, of fulfillment, whether what Jungkook said was true or not, as you watched your husband having the time of his life without you. If he were Jungkook, he would be seated right by your side.

Jeon Jungkook, as deviated as he appeared to be to everyone, as much as he slept around, he had demonstrated to be the most loyal human being by your side up until the last second of your friendship, unlike Sungho, he had always been interested in what you wanted to do, had always let your voice be heard, had helped you through rough times when Sungho was nowhere to be seen, perhaps you had chosen the wrong best friend to fall in love with a few years ago, the wrong man in your life to marry. It had been Jungkook all along. It could have been Jungkook all along.

Your eyes fixate on the way that Sungho whispers something on Areum’s ear and you feel your blood boil, more out of self-pity and annoyance at letting such a man manipulate you rather than jealousy as you stand up to make your way to the bathroom, in hopes of freshening up before coming up with a plan to fix this mistake.

You sigh as you hold yourself up by the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror, pondering just how deep you’ll have to dig to come out of the mess when you hear an all too familiar deep chuckle behind you “So you realised”

You turn your back to the mirror to face Jungkook “That Sungho was an asshole or that I’m in love with you?”

His eyes turn into those deeply surprised deer shape you remember from when he was younger for a split second before they’re filled with something else between lust and deep appreciation as he backs you up further against the sink, a tattooed hand coming up to your chin “Does that mean I get to kiss you with no regrets now?”

“Would you kiss a married woman, Jungkook?” you ask playfully, matching the brattiness in his tone

“Only the ones whose husbands are assholes” and so his lips capture yours in a sweet quick kiss that has you wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning in once again, escalating from a very much due kiss filled with words that are unable to be said, into a fiery pit in the low of your stomach at the prospect of kissing Jungkook while still being in your wedding dress, just a few hours married and kissing another man.

Jungkook’s hands have abandoned their place on your figure in favour of trying to undo the little buttons on the back of your dress, breaking the kiss to complain “God just how many buttons does this dress have?”

Soon enough your dress lays forgotten on the floor, matching lingerie covering your body as Jungkook has most of your body up against the mirror, panties aside in favour of having him fingering you, arms almost failing to keep you upright as he mouths at your skin, moans escaping your lips regularly as he pumps and curls his fingers inside you, lewd noises taking reverbating on the small bathroom’s walls, a faint trail of bass coming in from the party “God you’re so perfect Y/N” he grunted as you heard his zipper coming down before feeling the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, his hand coming up to grip your hair making you face the mirror, makeup completely wrecked, the sight almost unrecognisable to you, a slight burning but pleasurable sensation on your scalp “I bet that bastard Sungho wouldn’t be able to wreck you like this” without further notice entering you from behind, your walls clenching against him as you felt him slowly but firmly making his way in and out of you at a building rapidly pace, a moan slipping past your lips and Jungkook shushing you in exchange as he increases his speed and you bit your lip to forbid any noises from coming out, afraid of being heard even when you knew it would be almost impossible to do so over the loud party noises, this bathroom being so far away from it.

Jungkook had placed your right leg up the sink, hitting an even deeper spot that had you building your orgasm at an incredible speed, throwing your head back in pleasure, feeling him completely inside you as heat pooled in your lower belly.

“K-Kook I’m gonna-ah! I’m gonna cum” a few flicks on your clit with his expert fingers as he helped you keep yourself upright did the trick as Jungkook made sure to somehow thrust even deeper, a loud moan scaping you as he spilled his warm seed inside you, quickly adjusting back his boxers and trousers as one of his fingers collected some cum that was dripping down your thigh to push it back in, letting go of you to hold yourself up against the sink, pulling your panties back in place.

“Think that counts as a wedding gift?” he turns to leave the bathroom, leaving you heaving to haphazardly step inside your dress as you trail behind him, finding him resting against a wall, his bike roaring a few meters away as he smiles your way knowingly as he puts on his helmet, throwing another one your way "So.. all ready to leave that asshole of a husband now or should I wait another 15 years?"

[0junemeatcleaver0]

Lestat/Armand for the prompt, the most depraved but still sweet thing you can think of (because I’m exhausted and I need someone else to write it too, so help me God 🥹🥹)

Lestat/Armand Rating: E Features: Whump (IE: Lestat beats the shit out of Armand, but it's consensual, no worries), thoughts about the past, revelations, aftercare cloaked in sarcasm because these two can never get too vulnerable with each other. Post-canon; in this version Lestat has actually at least tried to do some work on himself.

𝔽𝕦𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 ℍ𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕄𝕖; ℍ𝕚𝕥 𝕄𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕄𝕖

It sounds less like meat slapping meat, and more like meat slapping stone.

Lestat tries to remember if it was like this the last time, but it doesn't matter. So much has changed since then--individually and between them.

Where once he had done this purely out of rage, now he does it from a place of...of what exactly he's unsure. Armand had made the request of him, which quickly became a demand. And when Lestat still refused, Armand had backed him into a corner--

"Louis was happier with me, you know. Everyone knows it. There's no denying it."

--until Lestat reacted on his worst instinct, slapping Armand hard across the face.

He felt like an idiot. He shouldn't have allowed himself to be lead like this--to have given the little demon what exactly what he wanted.

Harder.

Armand forces the word into his head.

Why? What's the meaning of--

With a closed fist. Do it.

Lestat looks at his hand as though it had only just sprouted at the end of his arm. His palm was still slightly pink from the impact, even though Armand's face has already regained it's smooth, even tone.

You've done it once before. Armand reminds him.

That was different.

I want you to do it again.

That night in Paris, forced into his mind. Lestat beating the boy mercilessly, intent on killing him, on wanting to be rid of him once and for all.

"This is madness." He whispers. "I can't--"

Don't make me drain you.

And then suddenly that memory--the inciting incident--is in his mind but Armand isn't the one who put it there. Armand pressing his fangs into Lestat after dropping him into a haze with the Mind Gift, pulling great draughts of blood from him. The memory edges him closer and closer to fight or flight so when Armand thinks DO IT at him, it's pure impulse to raise his hand and strike him again.

And then once more.

Armand had well and truly been a monster in those early days. For all of Lestat's postulating about the Savage Garden and being a monster outside of the control of even Satan himself, Armand had been unnerving to him.

For Armand had actually inhabited everything that Lestat had touted and when met face to face with the reality, Lestat found himself terrified. A true monster wrapped in the most pleasing visage--beautiful enough to draw you in and dazzle you before you could stop him from inflicting terrible cruelty upon you.

Lestat shivers at the memory as he strikes Armand with a closed fist, connecting with his ribs.

There was a reason Lestat had kept Louis and Claudia from the others. Marius had seemed an anomaly in civility. What he knew of the rest of his kind had frankly chilled him to the core. Even after hearing Armand's story--a story that did not match up to the one he would later tell David, a fact that would forever plague him--he could not fully trust the vampire, even if he had begun to feel more empathy towards him.

He hadn't really begun to recognize whatever version of 'humanity' they had allotted to them until Armand had turned Daniel.

Lestat lands a blow to Armand's jaw and stops abruptly, realizing what he's doing.

Armand raises his bowed head, attempts to fix his gaze upon him with glazed eyes. He spits a mouthful of blood onto the floor between them and reaches out--catching Lestat's wrist in a lightning fast grip to press his palm flat against the arousal growing in his woolen trousers.

Reflexively, Lestat flinches back, whipping his hand away.

The fact that Armand likes a bit of rough play is perhaps the worst kept secret in all of vampire-dom. Lestat had assumed it stopped at being taken hard and perhaps smacked around a little--startled to find that being the victim of a brawl could make him this hard in so few hits.

Do it. Do it. Don't be a coward! Do--

Something snaps inside of Lestat and he grasps Armand by a fistful of hair by the back of his head, pulling him in close to strike him thrice more with his free hand.

The monster is in him, too, that's the problem. Armand's cruelty has always appeared from the outside to be dispassionate, but Lestat is also cruel and he enjoys it. Enjoys having control, enjoys taking life. It's one in the same, really. And while he's made great strides in the past few years he cannot pretend as though this isn't still a part of him--this desire for ruination.

No one brought that desire out of Lestat better than Armand.

Harder, Armand insists.

Finally, Lestat obliges without a second thought, striking him so that he stumbles back and trips over the low table behind him, falling to the floor. Lestat is on him the next second, straddling him as he continues the beating.

Time ceases to matter--if it ever truly could matter to their kind. He doesn't know how long it takes for Armand's pitiful moans to turn to gurgles as he begins choking on his blood.

His guard is down, mind open and Lestat takes a peek as he cocks his fist back again. Sees himself on that lawn in Paris, beating Armand senseless. Sees himself here and now, looking down upon Armand, backlit so that his hair is a bright yellow halo surrounding his head. Sees the two versions of himself blending and turning momentarily into Marius's face for a split second before he's himself again, fist still held back waiting to be thrown.

He brings his hand down to the carpet beneath them, momentarily stunned.

I missed him so much then.

The thought is weak but unmistakable.

You looked so much like him. As though you could have been his son. I hated you for it. I wanted you so badly.

And suddenly Lestat is horrified again, unprepared to see this part of their shared past through a new lens--to know that the reason Armand had imprinted upon him like a duckling was because he looked so much like his old Master. That he derived some sick pleasure from the beating he'd dealt him.

That he might only love him due to his love for Marius.

Lestat rolls off of him, laying on his back next to a sprawled out and broken Armand to stare at the ceiling for a long moment, numbed. There are no more thoughts--his head static.

He turns his head to look at Armand. He's hit him so hard--the trauma so deep--that he's still badly bruised. His hair is matted with blood, left eye glued shut with coagulation. His bottom lip is split and his perfect cheeks are purpled.

Slowly, Lestat sits up and begins undressing Armand with shaking hands. His knuckles are sore--he can only imagine how Armand feels. When he sits the boy up to pull his shirt down his arms--his torso a bed of bright blue blooms--the blood runs free and thick down Armand's slack jaw.

"Did you get what you want?" He mumbles. "Are you satisfied?"

"Yes." Armand croaks. "Thank you."

The horror falls away suddenly, replaced by affection for this approximation of a broken child before him. Carefully, he helps Armand remove his shoes and trousers.

"He wouldn't have ever beat you this badly."

"I'm glad one of us is certain of that."

He is certain, but only because he has to be. Refuses to think less of Marius. He thinks maybe that is another thing that binds the two of them so tightly together--their devotion to the Roman.

"Can you walk?"

"Of course. You didn't strike my legs."

"Keep up the attitude and I might."

A thought. No, a memory. A scene he'd read in Armand's sad little pornographic book--a switch coming down again and again against the backs of his thighs, wielded by a stern Marius, the scene crystalline in the way a memory only could be, frozen there for eternity.

"Don't threaten me with a good time." Armand mumbles. His swollen lips in a close approximation of a smirk.

Lestat dumps him on the bed. Armand moans in pain, his ribs in obvious disarray. He's fairly certain he hasn't broken them--runs a steady palm along Armand's flank to make sure.

"Hold still." Lestat mumbles, swinging a leg over Armand's legs. It's different this time--Lestat planting kisses instead of punches to each bruise, pressing is own blood against the injuries with his tongue.

He works him over just as slowly as he had before, correcting their shared wrongs with each kiss until Armand's torso is all the same pale shade of marble once more. Lestat sighs, slicing his tongue open again, letting gravity drizzle a ribbon of blood onto Armand's swollen eye and rubbing it in with a gentle thumb. He watches as the skin mends itself, the bruise falling away, almost appearing to sink into the skin until it is no longer visible.

He saves Armand's lips for last, bending to kiss them bloodlessly and tenderly. They have the same color and over-plumped fullness of a plum. Armand hisses when Lestat's lips make contact, pained. Lestat hushes him, sliding a hand between them to stroke Armand's half erect cock as he kisses each corner of his mouth.

"You don't have to--"

"Hush."

Armand plumps against his palm in just a few strokes, moaning when Lestat pets the head with his thumb, wincing when each moan pulls the split in his lip a little wider. A droplet of blood wells up on Armand's bottom lip and Lestat licks greedily at it as his thumb swipes a bead of precum off the tip of Armand's cock.

"Christ, please." Armand begs, breath pouring into Lestat's mouth.

Lestat opens his tongue again, licks the blood over Armand's bottom lip and into his mouth as he strokes him faster. Armand comes with the second mouthful of blood Lestat passes to him, body going completely limp.

He waits for Armand to recover for a moment before slapping playful at his hip.

"Up. Up now. You're sweating all over my bed and your hair is disgusting."

Armand remains dazed for a moment before scowling, throwing a pillow at Lestat's retreating back.

"And where are you going?"

"Calm yourself, imp. I'm drawing you a bath."

[fairyoftbz]

comfort | l. sangyeon

☁ pairing: bf!sangyeon x fem!reader ☁ wc: 1.3k ☁ synopsis: you come home from work furious, and sangyeon does his best to calm you down. ☁ genre: fluff, comfort, domestic ☁ tw: swear words, y/n is angry at the world ☁ a/n: this is a self-indulgent fic because my boss fucking annoys me at work and I cba of her petty ass 🙄 oh to get comforted by sangyeon honestly... ☁ requested: no!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

“I’m fucking tired of all this shit!” you cursed as you slammed the front door shut, sending your purse and jacket flying out of pure frustration.

Locking the door in an angry movement, you got even hotter under the collar when your heels didn’t want to leave your feet, your uneven balance making you stumble on air and almost fall on the floor. Once you were finally rid of your shoes, you felt like walking on clouds, but this was not enough to reduce your wrath.

“Woah, woah, woah. Easy there, love,” Sangyeon, your boyfriend emerged from the kitchen in the corridor, blinking in confusion at your unusual angry attitude.

Your eyes were close to glowing red, steam practically going out of your ears, which was not a good sign at all. You rarely got angry, so it must have been something pretty upsetting and important to send you in a fit of rage like this one. The sight of your boyfriend made you sharply inhale as if you wanted to control yourself in front of him, trying your best to channel your anger.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Sangyeon risked asking the question, getting ready for you to yell out all your frustration at him, but he was wrong. You remained silent, chewing over your anger with a deep frown on your face, eyebrows almost touching. In all honesty, he would have preferred you screaming at the world rather than becoming as mute as a grave.

“This-” you wanted to curse out your colleague, the main reason for your anger, but remained civil, feeling like swear words weren’t even enough to get all the anger you had for her out of your body. “This fucking colleague of mine “accidentally” deleted the Excel folder I spent hours working on for our trimestral project next week. I had lunch after yelling at her and went to my boss's office after my break, only to have him blaming me for what she did!” you yelled out in a hoarse voice the rest of your sentence, emphasising the pronouns as your hands started shaking, the tears flooding your eyes immediately after a choked sob slipped past your pursed lips.

“And then,” your voice was unsteady, looking at your boyfriend through your blurry eyes, pointing the door as if your colleague was here, “when I get out of work to come home, I see those two good-for-nothing idiots flirting and swooning over the other like the fucking disgusting couple they are.”

Sangyeon breathed in deeply, brows slightly furrowed, dismayed at the situation you got unfairly put in. He placed the piece of cloth he used to dry the dishes with on his shoulder and gently approached you as if he was scared of getting rejected. Your shoulders subsided when he rested his palm on the side of your neck, his thumb gently caressing the edge of your jaw back and forth.

“Sangyeon, I’m so tired of this, I don’t know what to do,” you desperately struggled to mumble, this situation affecting you way more than you wanted, but it was hard not to. Your boyfriend rested his other hand on your shoulder, gently pulling you to him. Subconsciously, you wrapped your arms around his middle and closed your eyes, letting the tears wet his t-shirt as you tried to focus on him instead of your issue.

But it was almost impossible, this issue had you really worried. Deep down, you knew that your boss wouldn’t hesitate to fire you instead of whatever your colleague was for him, even if she was less qualified and talented than you. You should have been more careful, you should have immediately explained the problem to your boss to prevent your colleague from switching the roles and playing the victim, you should have-

“Y/N, I can hear your thoughts from here,” your boyfriend mumbled, his low voice vibrating in your chest as you were still pressed against him. Sighing heavily as an answer, you let his hand rub your back up and down, your breath uneven as you felt the anger boiling back into your veins.

Sangyeon felt you tense against him, so he pulled away and cradled your face in his hands to make you look at him. He offered you a compassionate smile, his thumbs wiping the floods of tears cascading down your cheeks. Your mouth trembled, and Sangyeon locked eyes with you, his hands travelling up your arms as he soothed you.

“Shht, darling,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead, lips lingering on your skin. Your tears redoubled at the display of affection, feeling the exhaustion instead of the anger taking over your body. He wrapped his arm around your neck, his other hand pressing against the back of your head.

“Do you want solutions or comfort?” he mumbled in your ear in a sweet voice, and you pondered his question for a few seconds, trying to collect your thoughts and shift them to something else.

He was always good at comforting you. No matter how bad or angry you felt, Sangyeon was always here to soothe you and bring you back to a calm state, that’s why you could freely let your emotions speak when he was around. Of course, he was sometimes powerless, not really knowing nor able to help, but at least he was here to listen.

“Comfort, please,” you manage to utter, and he pressed you further against his chest, his arms still embracing you tightly.

“We’ll discuss solutions when you’ll feel better and calmer, alright? Now let me make you a cup of tea,” he said, and you whined, nuzzling up to his torso as he was about to pull away. “No? You don’t want one?” he asked, and you shook your head, his arms closing back on your tired figure as he was surprised that you refused your favourite beverage.

“Don’t leave, please,” you felt Sangyeon nod and press his cheek on the side of your head, holding you tight against him.

“Alright, darling,” he seized one of your hands and rested it flat on his chest, feeling his calm heartbeat under your palm. It was something he used to do when you were stressed out, and it always managed to calm you down.

Sangyeon held you until you stopped crying, feeling your trembles come to a halt and find a normal heartbeat again. Eyes puffy and cheeks drenched in salty tears, Sangyeon tilted his head to the side and lovingly smiled at you, letting you rest your head against his collarbone out of exhaustion. Crying drained all your energy because it didn’t happen as often as it used to, but you could always count on your boyfriend to take care of you and handle the aftermath like a pro.

“Come on love, let’s get you to the sofa so I can finish preparing dinner, okay? I won’t let you go to bed with an empty stomach,” you nodded as you sat down on the edge of the couch, Sangyeon crouching down in front of you, his hands on your knees.

“What are you preparing?” you asked, your voice barely coming out of your mouth due to all your crying.

“I’m making your favourite. I figured that you had a rough day since you didn’t text me at lunch like you usually did, so I wanted to cheer you up,” he proudly smiled as he watched your eyes widen, a relieved smile drawing on your face.

“Oh my god I love you, thank you,” you mumbled, and Sangyeon softly chuckled, his hand carding through your hair as strands fell in front of your eyes. He cupped your face with his hand before gently rubbing his nose against yours, earning a smile from you.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered as he stood up, quickly bending back down to press your lips together in a soft kiss.

You offered him a grateful smile, and he winked, making his way back in the kitchen, leaving you appeased in the living room. With his hugs and support, you felt calm and collected for tomorrow, mentally ready to confront your colleague and boss for their mistakes. But for now, your focus was your boyfriend, and you couldn’t wait to spend a lovely evening with him and some good food.