#so like i have a very strong soft spot/desire to be a part of a religious community but i know christianity is not a good fit for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simpjaes · 1 month

Text

ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT. 2 (P.SH)

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part one | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader

WORDCOUNT ― 21.8k

CONTENT ― modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth

SIDE CHARACTERS― jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor

!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring

NOTE ― you must read part one to understand the story. anyway i did not mean to go in so deep with jungwon, i just really fucking adore him please forgive me. anyway, this is briefly edited. if you see a typo, shhhhhh, i don't wanna know.

tags under cut

smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him,

other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“My love, let me.”

You sit up only to be eased back onto the soft mattress. Pillows plush against your head as Sunghoon dabs away at each puncture he’s left on you.

“You know you can’t sit up so quickly, just rest and let me.”

You’re littered with his bites by now and you only grow more and more enamored with the feeling of it. Or, perhaps you just enjoy the fact that he’s fixated on drinking from you. Multiple times a day, until your fingers and toes are numb, until you can barely stand without dropping to the floor.

Enamored through all of it, really. With the way he bites so gently only to suck harder and harder until his fingers grip and pierce through your skin much like his teeth do. He’ll hold you so hard through it, forcing arousal to run through you every single time he goes for that artery in your thigh. You think that’s his favorite spot to bite, if the dozens of wounds there are anything to go by. Truly, you’re enamored with him, always wanting to give him more just so he stays with you longer.

You seem to have lost yourself in the lust of it all. The fantasy, the desire. On the brink of insanity, you know you’ve grown obsessed with what Sunghoon does to you, and it’s to the point that you don’t question yourself like you normally would. Your desire for this is too strong, far too intimidating to doubt.

But since that night, he always leaves you with blood against his lips. Aroused, frustrated, confused. Never once letting a hand stray too far, never letting his lips trace anywhere but to your wounds or new expanse of skin that needs to be bitten.

For days now you’ve been here. You lay here one full day since you were supposed to be back at work too, just waiting for the moment Sunghoon will do more than just drink from you. Mostly for a confirmation. It feels like you’re forcing yourself to go missing for this alone and every night you lie awake in this room waiting, wanting more from him now than you think you ever have.

The room you're in now is lonely, though adorned nearly as beautiful as the one you were in the night Sunghoon stole you away. You know the place you want to be is just down the hall, but your legs won’t carry you there no matter how much you try. He’s rendered you bed ridden and you miss it there, with his silk sheets and candle lit walls.

Then again, maybe it’s not the room at all that you miss. Maybe it’s just Sunghoon.

You can’t help but note that when he’s on you or next to you, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. But when you’re alone, you feel your skin crawl with such immense anxiety that you nearly want to scream out for him to come back. Several times already you have called out for him mere moments after he’s left the room. It gives you hope in knowing that each time, he does return to you even if just for a moment.

All of it is very arousing when he comes to you, but it’s killing you inside to know that he does nothing more than feed off of you. You get nothing out of it but his presence, and perhaps he expects that to be enough. It’s driving you insane to give everything you have to him so willingly, knowing he hasn’t offered anything back to you.

The fact that you want this, you want him, and you want to be the only blood he craves? It’s a feeling you’ve had to accept, because trying to deny it at this point would only lead you down a more destructive path. As if the one you’re on now isn’t already killing you, if not physically, emotionally. You want to be the person lying in his bed again so badly. You want to show him that you’re no longer terrified. You want to give him equal arousal and interest.

But he doesn’t offer it. No, he simply bites.

“I can do it.” You say to him in a frustrated sigh. “I’m not helpless, you know.”

He’s taken aback by the way you rip the gauze from his hands, sitting up and scooting away from him when you dip it into the bowl of alcohol. Your head spins at the act, but you push through the weakness anyway, knowing he doesn’t like the distance you’re creating between him and you.

You don’t like the distance either, but it’s helpful to know he doesn’t ignore it.

“I’m aware.” Sunghoon narrows his eyes at the way your heart is beating for him right now, taking the gauze back from you and gripping your arm to pull you back and against him. “Why are you being difficult?”

He cleans a wound just under your jaw as he looks at you, waiting for you to answer him. You stare back as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, not wincing at all like you previously had when he lets the alcohol burn the swollen punctures.

“Hah, so you can’t read minds?” You confirm for yourself, though you had the suspicion that he couldn’t. “You just keep doing this–” You continue, trying not to sound as if you’re nagging. “And nothing else.”

He tilts his head as he moves the gauze to another part of your neck, knowing full well what it is you want.

“Nothing else?” He repeats in a sly question. “Is there more you want?”

You nod slightly, feeling the cold alcohol send a shiver across your skin, your head finally clearing of the dizziness just from sitting up.

“Name it.”

Somehow, you lose the ability to ask for what you want. It feels silly to be mad that he hasn’t given you any sexual pleasure despite feeding off of you for days now. Is it insane that sex is all you want in return? Should you ask for financial compensation or something?

“Ah.” He answers for you with an all-knowing smirk, his nostrils flaring as he inhales your scent. “You want pleasure, yes?”

“Do you not?” You ask simply, and he pulls back with the gauze to look at you dumbfounded.

For a solid twenty seconds the two of you stare at each other before he’s dropping the gauze into the bowl and pulling you against him in full, turning your body so that your back is to his chest. His strong arms are still cold, but you feel warm enough against him like this.

“It pleases me to know you want it.” He smiles against the top of your head. “Unfortunately, I have other things to tend to.” He continues, pausing to hold you a bit closer. “I still have to feed, love, and I still need to maintain order here. I cannot just spread your legs every waking minute.”

You’re not asking for him to fuck you every waking minute. It makes you feel as if he’s annoyed to even use such words regarding this. Still, your cheeks warm at his sweet voice.

“As much as I’d like to.”

Oh. Your cheeks aren’t just warm, they’re on fire at those words. You’d grasp at anything right now, despite feeling like an afterthought. You don’t like that you’re not a priority to him, even though he fucking feeds on you consistently. To the point you can’t even stand for a full minute without fucking fainting from blood loss. Still, you accept his words and try to think of the positives over the negatives.

Unfortunately, you’ll never be satisfied with just his words and a mere ten seconds later you’re right back to questioning, doubting, and feeling upset.

So he can feed this often, but not even slip a finger into you through it?

Priorities. He has to feed, he said? Does he not already?!

“Wait, Sunghoon, you do feed.” You argue. “On me.”

He shakes his head at your ignorance of believing he’ll ever truly have enough of you. Even past death, he’ll never have enough. Which is precisely why you’re still breathing.

“There are needs I have that you’ve yet to understand. You satiate the hunger, yes, but that is nothing more than a feeling, not a truth.”

You try to comprehend his words but fall short. Only because that would mean–

“You’re becoming afraid again,” He comments on your heart rate. “Calm yourself, darling, the need within me is no fault of my own and I’ll continue to keep you from seeing the act take place.”

There’s silence from you as you try to calm yourself down. Of course he has to feed, but…is that not what he’s already been doing to you? Your heart isn’t racing from fear, it’s racing from–jealousy.

“So, mine isn’t enough?” You feel your heart shatter a bit when you voice it, knowing full well that for him to be full, he likely has to kill.

Why are you jealous? Well, if you’re so irresistible like he says you are, why does he hold back? Why are you still alive? Does your blood not taste as good as whoever else he’s been having at? Why does he keep you around, but no one else? Maybe they’re the ones who are irresistible, and you’re just a placeholder for if he can’t find his meal for the night. Maybe he’s just using you.

“Hmm.” Sunghoon thinks hard at your question. “You’re feeling envious?”

You don’t respond to him or the way he clocks your jealousy, and instead shake his grip off of you before grabbing the gauze yourself again.

He watches you take the material and dip it into the liquid, moving it down your legs and to the assault of wounds against your thigh.

“You’re truly strange.” He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs, listening closely to the artery you have there, always so hungry for more but knowing he need not drink for the time being. After all, he’s just eaten. “Almost as unnatural as I am.”

You have to force back a smile at the truth of his words though, softening at the way he compares you to him like the two of you fit together perfectly. The jealousy rages within you, but so does this strange adoration you have for him.

“To think I don��t crave you? Have I not shown you already?”

“Hmm, you might need to remind me.” You’re being playful now, trying to get what you want. Entirely thankful for the way he solves every problem you have with him in your head even if just for a moment.

You think you’ll always miss him on a deeper level than just sitting and speaking though.

“When can I leave the room?” You ask now, suddenly. “When can I come back to your room?”

Sunghoon doesn’t fight his own smile, loving the way you stay of your own free will, even while upset with him for not giving you more than that single night of love making.

“Not yet, love.” He mutters now, knowing that it’s not likely for you to be able to make it down the hallway without calling for his help, also knowing that he can’t give you what you want again so soon.

“Oh.” You look at him, face falling. “Let me guess, because you have better shit to do.”

“Still so envious.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “You’ll learn soon enough how I need you.”

Just, not yet.

After all, he drinks you until he has no choice but to stop. Multiple times a day, draining you until it’s near dangerous. The fact that you enjoy it drives him to do it more and more.

You think it’s easy for him to utilize self-control around you? You think he doesn’t want to experience you in every way you can offer? With those pretty sounds you make? God, he misses the way your body hugged his cock so much. You’re out of your mind to think he’s holding out on you because he doesn’t want it. Because you're not good enough? Stupid, stupid girl.

He needs it. He wants it. He’s fucking obsessed with what you do to him.

You’re truly not the only one trying to adjust to this situation. He has to be very careful with you, and having sex with you could very well break the resolve he’s forced into himself. A simple touch from you that feels too good could have him acting on a split second decision, drinking until you’re dead and cold, just like him.

Essentially, he has to train himself to your scent and taste. Sure, he’s been fucking nearly every victim since his cock started working again, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’d rather it be you. In fact, the only reason he’s fucking them is to satiate the need to destroy everything that you are for his own desire of having you.

The issue is that his drive to kill is insanely high, smelling you just down the hall makes every new victim taste better. It makes his cock fuck harder, it makes their bodies feel almost good enough for him to release. But they’re not you, and it’s rendering him unable to control himself.

His recent victims? Oh, it ends so gruesomely. He feels overheated in the moment, drenched, fucking feral when he makes his kill. Wishing it was you, ignoring the scent of the person beneath him just to smell you from a different room.

If he gets his hands on you when he’s in that state of mind again, you’ll be gone forever. That’s something Sunghoon wouldn’t be able to live with. Already he’s controlled himself through it once and that may very well have been the hardest thing he’s done in his life. He can’t promise that he can hold back again.

Until he can feed and fuck without feeling his instinct grab him by the throat, he cannot do more than small feedings with you. That alone is training all on its own, because every single time he feeds, he struggles not to take all of it.

Bit by bit. Sunghoon has to take you piece by fucking piece. And your willingness to do it, entirely awake and aware, makes it all the more difficult.

He can’t tell you this. Not yet, at least. You’d know the danger you’re in. Nor can he pretend like he will let you leave out of fear. He needs to keep this peace with you until he can truly enjoy you in a way that will ensure you’ll be alive and well after the fact.

And so, he changes the subject, grabbing you even tighter and hugging you in the way any modern boyfriend would. This. This is something he can handle.

“Are you bored of me carrying you across the room?” He asks. “Do you miss walking on your own two feet that much, if just to make it to my room?” He smiles now, making jokes with you that feel a bit dry when it hits your ears.

“Are you implying that I’m a slut?” You laugh at his attempt to make you smile, slapping against his cold arm playfully. “That the only reason I want to leave this room is to come into yours and fuck you?”

He shrugs from behind you, hugging tighter, wanting to be under your skin with that beating heart.

“Am I not right to assume? You little harlot.”

Well, he got you there.

And you laugh with him about it, living in your little fantasy world like this never has to end. Reality looms taller than Sunghoon does, unfortunately.

He can feel your heart rate pick up when your laugh slows down.

“But, Sunghoon, I can’t stay here for much longer like this.” You drop it on him like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and oh how he wishes you could just disappear with him. “I haven’t been home, my phone is there and I’m sure people have been calling.”

His eyes darken at your words as he pushes you from his grasp. Already you wish to leave? After complaining to him about what he doesn’t give you? Is that why you’re saying this right now? No sex means you’ll leave?

Serves him right for not using the pull on you. He should have kept hold of your mind rather than relish in your willingness.

“I’ve missed work already.” Your voice gets smaller as you watch him move from the bed and stand in front of you, the scent of cinnamon assaulting your nose along with his darkened and intimidating facial expression. “I– I’ll–come back. I promise.” You cower immediately.

Sunghoon shakes his head at you.

“Did I not make myself clear?” He deepens his voice, unsure of how to handle his own internal panic. “Never have I let a commoner leave this cathedral alive and knowing the truth.”

“Are you–threatening me?” You ask, scooting away from him and accidentally knocking over the bowl of alcohol with your foot.

“Did you not just say you envy the others? Envy dying by my hand?” He questions you back, looming over you in an intimidating stance. Suddenly much, much taller than reality. “Every time you’ve said you’d come back, you’ve done no such thing. Have I upset you this much?”

You frantically shake your head.

“No, no!” You lift your hands in defense, reaching out to his towering figure. “I want to be here with you! You just said yourself that you have things to tend to, so do I! If I don’t show up at work, or at least have my phone, people will have the fucking cops out and looking for me!”

Sunghoon softens, cinnamon air fading out within a second. He feels only slightly ashamed of his immediate outburst when all you can offer back to him is truth. Perhaps you’re the only one living in the real world, even if he’s been living in it for far, far, longer.

You’ve pulled him into a fantasy, just like he has for you. He truly let himself forget that you’re no victim that’s meant to die. You can’t just disappear without question, and already it has been days.

Still, you can’t just leave him.

“I see.” He says, reaching down to grab at the hands you have clinging to his clothes in an attempt to calm himself more than you. “Shall I retrieve your device for you then?”

You slowly nod, looking away from him and ignoring the fact that as much as you do want to be here with him, the fact that he just implied that you can never leave is a bit– um, intense. So, you don’t argue when you nod to him. If anything, to keep the peace.

“I’ll see to it that you have it in your hands by tonight. And in time, I’ll invite you back to my quarters.” Ending his sentence with a bribe to keep you here felt fitting, and he’s thankful for the way you accept it.

You nod quicker now, entirely satisfied with his words when he steps back and away from you.

“Now, please finish cleaning your wounds. I don’t want to taste infection in you.”

Despite feeling better about it, wanting him still, those words hurt you. You feel insulted by the time he leaves you alone in the room. Like if you got an infection he’d simply lose interest in you, or perhaps end this love of your blood he has.

He may even just go ahead and kill you if that were to happen.

It drives you to clean yourself twice over. Three times over. Unwilling to lose the feeling of someone biting you so gently, unwilling to die because your use to him has run out. And it feels like you clean yourself all day. To the point you’re probably making yourself more susceptible to infection rather than protecting yourself from it.

And in this room, time doesn’t exist. There’s a window indicating where the sun is in the sky, but hours and minutes are meaningless. Only when the sun is up do you start counting, knowing that Sunghoon will only visit you during nightfall.

You clean yourself for what you assume to be hours upon hours, all the way up until the sun falls and you hear the door creak open. You expect to see Sunghoon coming in for his routine of drinking from you, but instead, you find a pale-eyed nun rush to you with your phone and immediately leave after.

A quick presence is gone within a moment, but you pay no mind as you look down at your phone. You’re thankful for the fact that it’s probably been on the charger all four days you’ve been gone. Considering, well, there’s no electricity this high up in the cathedral, you’ll have to save your battery as best as you can.

So many missed calls.

Even more missed texts.

Dozens of emails.

Jungwon.

In the morning after you left your apartment, he checked in with you. All throughout the day too. It wasn’t until that same night where his texts became frantic. A little, “i’m coming over, fuck you if you get mad at me for it.” followed by “are you mad at me? why won’t you respond?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

Really though, it hurts your heart to have forgotten about him entirely during your time here. Reading through his texts, you see him fight with himself over your absence. Up until yesterday, where he texts you from the museum.

A glaring “stopped by again today only to realize your apartment was unlocked this whole time. i’m with your boss now, we are calling the cops if you don’t respond within the next ten seconds.”

A full day late, you respond quickly.

You: wonnie!!! i’m sorry! I got sad and went home to see my mom. totally ignored my phone…and forgot to lock the door i guess

You: you know, hormones lol

Immediate spam. Your phone vibrates aggressively back to back with his frantic texts.

Wonnie: you have to be fucking JOKING

Wonnie: NOT A SINGLE WORD FROM YOU. YOU COULD HAVE CALLED WORK OR

SOMETHING FROM SOMEONE ELSE’S PHONE. I WAS AT YOUR PLACE EVERY DAY.

Wonnie: i CANNOT believe you!!!!!!!!!!!

Wonnie: your whole ass apartment was unlocked and you weren’t there! anyone could’ve walked right in!!!!! are you stupid or something?

Wonnie: are you home now?

Wonnie: i’m so mad at you FUCK

Wonnie: i got so scared

Wonnie: im coming over

You panic.

You: wait, i’m not home yet. I didn’t mean to stay so long, I promise ill be home soon and fill you in on everything.

Wonnie: call your boss.

Wonnie: ill deal with the cops, then im gonna be waiting outside of your apartment

Wonnie: don’t ever fucking do that shit again, been crying all morning

Wonnie: i hate you so much right now, im never talking to you again

Wonnie: get your stupid ass back home

You smile fondly at his worry, but the smile is short lived as you know you probably can’t leave here. Not only from the fact that Sunghoon appears to be unwilling to let you leave but you…don’t want to.

Still, you do need to call your boss, and you make quick work of it. Sitting dissociated through the mindless scolding of your terrible lie of an excuse, and then the following call from the local police department.

Arguably, speaking to the police was easier than knowing you’ll have to lie to Jungwon again. At least the police are aware that you’re a grown woman who can disappear if she wishes. Jungwon, on the other hand, requires a little more care and consideration.

You’re tired by the time you lay your phone down, unable to keep your eyes open as you drift off.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Some time later, you wake to the same familiar scent of Sunghoon wafting from under your door. It doesn’t process yet in your brain that you’ve not smelled it since the night you wandered from your apartment. But now? Oh, it’s strong.

It’s very, very strong.

Your drowsy eyes look to the door as your legs carry you there, and out you go. Down the hallway, straight to those big doors, straight through those big doors.

The scent burns in your throat the moment you step inside, blurry eyes witnessing two figures right there on the floor. The only clear thing you can make out are his darkened narrowed eyes, only because your brain refuses to process the act taking place in front of you at first.

He looks…rabid. Hair is a mess, sticky and dripping with thick metallic liquid.

Oh, it sounds so loud. The squelching and the smacking of skin. Your stomach drops, the pit inside of it flourishing with nothing short of rotted desire.

Right there on the floor of his room lies a woman seemingly experiencing god. Sunghoon is moaning with his eye trained on your shocked figure. He ignores the woman’s aroused grasps against his arms to keep his eyes trained on you. And he just…smirks through it, licking his lips, rolling his eyes back only for them to fall right back to you.

The squelching rings in your ears as he moves faster, feverishly chasing a hunt he’s already got lying beneath him. Almost as if catching him in the act aroused him more than he already had been. Like he’s showing you how much more he’d prefer someone else over you.

He moans your name inwardly again and again, as if to call you forward to him but your feet can no longer move as you process the act with each call of your name.

He’s fucking her. He’s devouring her.

Not you. Her.

You can feel your heart shrivel at the act when you stumble back, a twisting pain in your chest that you feel silly over. You barely know Sunghoon, but somehow it feels like he’s given you more of himself than he has anyone else. He speaks that way to you, anyway. Always with the words of “I’ve never done this, until you.”

That was a lie. You’re seeing it now with your own two eyes and you’re paying for believing that you, somehow, could be special. And the pain in your chest travels all throughout your body at the fact that you let this man bite you. You let him take and take until you could barely stand, until you could barely think, until you were right on the cusp of death.

And you still want to do that for him. But now? He’s grown bored of you. Perhaps he intends to let this woman live too. Perhaps she’s silly enough to fall for a sweet vampire’s words too.

You stumble back more, forcing your legs to work with you rather than against you. It’s like your body has a mind of its own when he smells so welcoming. Cinnamon, spicy, sweet, painful cinnamon. Such a suffocating smell, easy to give in to and grow weak for. At least for you, that’s how it feels.

When you force yourself to turn around, only to continue stumbling down the hallway, your eyes work against you now too. You knew it would happen though and it’s not something you can stop. The burn and blur of tears prickling at the corners, your throat scratchy and sore.

You try to hold it in, feeling as if life is being suffocated out of you all the way down. Down, down, down. Past the nuns, past the beautiful and intricate interior, and straight out of the big front doors of the cathedral.

No goodbyes.

The breezy night air smacks you hard, forcing a sobbed breath out of you. You dry heave for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut so tight just to try and regain control of yourself and your emotions. The images behind your eyes flash back and forth. You’ve not just witnessed death, but the pleasure of death. Well, if he kills the woman, anyway.

And you still can’t fathom it. The way you feel, the way you’re reacting, the intense desire for death if it means Sunghoon wants you that badly. Never would you have guessed that a feeling so deeply terrifying exists. But it does, you’re witnessing it overtake the deepest parts of you right now.

Fuck, you didn’t want to leave but you did. And now here you are, freed from a grasp that you still want so badly.

Your lungs burn and your chest hurts more than the swollen puncture wounds all over your body. Everything is burning. It’s too, too, hot inside of your skin right now and there’s nothing more you’d rather do than to crawl out of it and freeze.

Still, you do your best to control the emotions within you. You take a short look around only to feel the head rush hit you now like it should have when you stood from your bed. Right, the blood in your body likely isn’t enough to keep you upright for long and you know you’ll likely not make it to your apartment in this state.

But you try. Your eyes are out of focus and your legs are clumsy as you try to walk. Down the sidewalk you go, until–

“Woah, little lady.”

You hear Balor’s voice echo in your ears. The sound of safety feeling so, so far away.

You can’t even thank him for it because your vision blurs more at the feeling of big, leather clad arms holding you upright, and then– you’re out.

You’re not sure how much time has passed by the time you’re able to hold your eyes open again, but when you do, Jungwon is here and so is that hot bartender you forgot existed. And as you try to comprehend where you are, you learn very quickly that you’re in the back room of the club with concerned eyes focused on..not your face, your body.

“Let’s get you home.” Jungwon’s concerned voice settles in your ears, and only now do you feel his warm hands soothing you against your shoulders.

“Or maybe a hospital?” Jay offers, also inspecting your skin and the weak state of your body as you try to sit up.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You say, immediately starting to cry out. “Please, just take me home.”

And so, home is where you go. Jay drives both you and Jungwon there with a kind voice and worried eyes. You see him make the attempt to hug you before leaving, but Jungwon is quick to stop him with a small shake of his head.

“Let me know when you’re feeling better.” Is all Jay says when he leaves, which, you’re sure he didn’t intend to leave but of course, Jungwon. You can see that he wants to be the one here with you and he insisted to Jay that he’s got you.

It heals your heart a little bit, but doesn’t change the fact that you’re embarrassed for not only Jungwon to be pulled into your mess, but Jay too?

You’re humiliated.

And by the time Jungwon has undressed and redressed you, ignoring the intense smell of alcohol against your skin for now, he’s immediately lying next to you, clinging to you really.

You’re aware of what he saw when he removed your clothes. You heard the breath he took in, you saw his confusion at how the clothes you had on were very much not from your closet. He’s going to ask, and you knew he would.

“You’re really cold.” He says in a cracked voice, gentle and sweet as he tries to warm you up. “You weren’t with your mom, were you?”

You weakly shake your head.

“You were with that guy you told me about before.” He says now, grabbing you tighter pretending he doesn’t know just how many wounds you have under your clothes. He can’t help but hold you tighter, even if it hurts you.

“What did he do to you?”

Your throat starts to burn as you cry again. You can barely process what’s happened yourself and explaining it to someone else only feels that much harder.

The pulsing in your head is too much, you can’t even think straight right now.

“It was–” You try to calm down, breathing in deep but avoiding eye contact. “It was consensual, don’t worry.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrow, staring at the deep bite marks on your neck. He’s quick to lift himself up, ripping your shirt up and off of you without so much as trying to be gentle. His panic is blatant and he’s entirely unable to hide how pissed off he is right now.

“No, it wasn't.” He dead-pans as he presents your own body to you, his voice coming out harsher than usual. “You’d be out of your fucking mind to think i believe that this was consensual.”

He glares at the swollen marks, unsure as to what to do with himself.

“Fuck,” He scoffs your name along with the curse, throwing his hands up. “Fucking look at them.”

You turn away from him now, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively in an attempt to not peer at what you wish you could have more of. You know what this looks like though, and you’re really trying to see things from his perspective.

But…It’s hard after everything you’ve witnessed yourself.

‘It was.” You say again. “I practically begged him to keep doing it.”

Jungwon falls silent as he counts. 1, 2, 3, 13, 25, 56, 72, still more.

“I wasn’t going to come home, you know.” You sigh out at the silence of his counting.

More silence.

“Was gonna stay and never leave.”

“What? Why?” He panics more at the admittance, dropping down over you and forcing your arms from yourself, trying to pretend he didn’t re-open some of your wounds by tearing your shirt off of you.

You can hear your best friend crying at the way you hide from him, all bloodied and bruised, but you keep your eyes closed even tighter. All he can do is lend you the entire weight of his body, enveloping you in all of his warmth and care, using his entire body to shield you from even the air in your room.

“What did he do?” Jungwon pleads for an answer with a cracked whisper. He needs context. Anything to explain the state of you right now.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“What did he do?” He presses again, voice only cracking more as he cries along with you.

“It’s more so what he didn’t do.”

Silence again.

“What did he fucking do?”

You take in a deep breath, sighing out against your best friend’s fluffy hair, humming at his warmth and how much you’ve missed it.

There’s nothing you can say to make him understand, all you can do is try because hearing him like this is, arguably, just making it more painful.

“I just really liked him, and I guess he didn’t like me so much in the end.”

Jungwon chooses to take that at face value, opting to not let you out of his sight from this moment forward if he can help it. At one point with you, he was worried about being too clingy. Truly, he was afraid he would annoy you by attaching himself. Never has he grown so close to a person so fast and never has he gained such comfort within someone else’s bubble like he does with you. The comfort is still there, but no longer does he give a single fuck about clinging too much. You clearly cling too.

If you cling enough to let a man abuse your body like that, you’ll be able to handle him clinging just as much, enough to care for you, and enough to not fucking leave your side. He’s not going anywhere, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

After all, he’s not stupid, but he’s willing to act as dumb as you need him to if it means you’ll let him keep you within arms reach. In his head, there’s no way you fell into something with someone who could do this to you without reason, and it appears it’s not a question he’ll get a clear answer from you any time soon.

It doesn’t matter if his installation will come to an end at some point. He can’t just leave you here when there’s some strange man running around biting the fuck out of people like a rabid dog. Abusing his best friend? No. He won’t have it and he doesn’t care if he has to force you to accept his protection.

He can’t do much for you, but he’s willing to at least be here with you.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jungwon soothes you, clinging tighter just to feel some of those reopened wounds bleed onto him. His voice is a stark reminder that there’s more to feel in your body than just pain. “I won’t let him near you again, okay?”

You nod, still crying as you cling back, trying to ignore the images in your head of Sunghoon.

“Okay.” You lie, missing him too much already, the faint scent of cinnamon still in your nose.

And you fall asleep like that. Warm.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You hate calling it an “escape.” You carried yourself out of that beautiful cathedral against your body begging you to stay. Still, even now with Jungwon clinging so warmly at night, you wish you had never left.

Even the pain of seeing what Sunghoon does behind your back, the jealousy that came with it, you would have stayed if only to prove your worth to him. Being so close to death is exhilarating, and you find yourself feeling entirely empty and void of any emotion that brings joy because of it.

This isn’t depression, nor is it simple envy. This sadness within you sinks lower than you thought possible, so deeply rooted within you that you feel death itself couldn’t even allow a safe escape. After all, if vampires are real, who's to say you won't end up as a tormented ghost forever searching for a man who can never die?

Damned if you live, damned if you die, so to say. You can’t have Sunghoon either way, you can only have him while suffering.

And oh, how you miss the cold. You miss his cold. You miss the fear too. You miss the way he’d laugh with no breath against you and drink from your thighs like he needed more. You miss the way your wounds would pulse in pain and lend little reminders of the teeth that pierced them. Even now, they’re healing so well.

And it still hurts.

It hurts to know he said, while holding you, that he craves you. That he very much wants you but has things to tend to. The fact that he needed to tend to fucking other women while drenched in their blood? Things to tend to.

Because to Sunghoon, real life women, breathing women, are minimized to things to tend to.

Fucking vampires.

It’s been a week now since you left and it hasn’t gotten easier. During the week, Jungwon hasn’t so much as let you shower without the bathroom door open. You guess that’s fair.

Still, it has only been a week. A week of everything moving fast, a week of Jungwon, a week of slow and dreadful acceptance, and a week of smelling nothing but faint, ever so slight, cinnamon.

By now you know it’s him. Like he’s truly dug his claws into you and doesn’t intend to let you forget all that he took from you. Always that fucking smell, from the first night you met him until now. Yet he is nowhere to be seen, even when you stare at the cathedral after the sun goes down.

No one has left. No one has gone inside.

Part of you even found yourself worrying if he’s eaten. Hah. Funny.

Still, you’re forced to live in reality now. Nothing but healing wounds, meaningful days, and reminders that you let yourself fall as quickly and painfully as possible.

You’re entirely dissociated, as if you’re gliding rather than walking, as if each day passes in a second rather than a twenty four hour time span, as if you’re truly empty now and not filled with the blood you thought meant so much.

Somehow, you find comfort in the emptiness though. Jungwon fills the space as best he can too. He always accepts your rejections of going to update Jay at the club just to sit between your legs on the living room floor and try to make you laugh through silly faces riddled with concern.

You assume he’s in contact with Jay anyway, letting him know that you’re not quite dead yet.

The days blur together now, up until two weeks pass, three weeks, four, five weeks.

Thankfully, by the fifth week, it’s gotten easier. Each day you just have to remind yourself that you can never forget Jungwon again like you did before. He’s the one who helped you through this, and to think you’d ever make him go through this again is insane. In fact, he’s the reason you finally feel good inside again.

He’s like medicine, which is cringe and lame as fuck to say but it’s true. Internally, he’s made you feel better. Yet, right beside all those happy warm feelings lies everything else. Distress, sadness, anxiety.

They still seep out of you too. Every night, really, after the daytime wears off and Jungwon runs out of things to distract you with.

“Why do you have to look at me like that?” Jungwon says sweetly, sprawled out on your bed in his pajamas as he watches you pace around your room. “I swear, it’s like everything I say to you goes through one ear and out the other.”

You pause in your step, sad eyes reaching his face.

“I already told you I’m not going home.” He repeats himself for what feels like the thousandth time to you. “I’m still getting paid, I have enough to last me if you let me stay here before finding work.”

After all, it’s not like Jungwon has anything to go back home to. Save for an annoying sister who probably wanted him to move the fuck out of her space anyway. He’s the last person on this earth to be afraid to up and move out with a near stranger.

You’re not so much a stranger to him though, and the need to be by your side far outweighs anything else right now.

“Yeah, but, eventually.”

Never have you been one to worry about fleeting time. Never until you met that dead motherfucker. You worry about not what is happening, but what will happen. The inevitable. You no longer welcome it.

It’s not death that brings the anxiety though, it’s just…the clock.

With the ticking, the tocking, and the changing of seasons. Everything lasts both too long and not long enough. At this moment, the fear is Jungwon leaving at some point in your life. For any reason at all, really.

He’s been by your side since you found your way back to him. A nuisance at times, yes, but you’re attached. To an unhealthy degree, you are fucking attached to him at the hip. He’s your only grounding force on this earth and you think he’s picking up on it.

To the point he’s offered to drop his entire life an hour away just to stay for you.

Yes, Jungwon recognizes how toxic and unhealthy the friendship has become, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t just leave, nor does he want to. Even if he’s the one who leaves to get your mail, he’s the one who cooks, and he’s the one who holds you close at night, reminding you that time doesn’t have to mean a damn thing if you try hard enough to forget about the man who doesn’t experience it at all.

There’s no way you can get through a single day without him right now, and the thought of having to do it in the future scares you.

You know it’s pathetic. You know you have no right to keep him in a box next to you as a comfort, you know he’s still got a life to live and romance to find. But…you hate it.

“Eventually what?” He quirks a brow at you, having been concerned for you and the shift in your entire personality yet again tonight. You’ve changed for the worse, and it terrifies him to see you act so gone.

“You’re gonna leave me here alone.” Your voice is small, cracking when you say it only because you hear the words ring in your ears.

A pathetic whine, as if you’re speaking to someone else and not Jungwon. You’re not you anymore. No, you’ve become obsessed with the looping memories and feelings that took a mere four days to fall in love with.

Addicted to emptiness but begging for Jungwon to forever be the crutch you stand on.

You’re selfish and you have no fucking right to do this to him.

“Hey…” He rolls out of bed and steps up to you, easily putting a soothing hand against your shoulder. “Do you want me to stay?”

You nod. Knowing this same situation happens nearly every night. You panic, he soothes. You beg, he reminds you that he’s the one who offered in the first place. You ask him to stay, he confirms by asking you to let him.

And to him, he knows this is anything but a romantic partnership. You very much need someone here who is willing to play dumb but remain hyper aware. He wants to be this person for you because of his own selfish reasons too.

It’s not all for you.

For one, he wants the girl back that he met last month. Secondly, he wants to see you learn and grow, because he knows you have a long and beautiful life ahead of you (and he better be fucking part of it.) And lastly, he’s never felt needed like this and there’s something in him that craves to be important too.

It’s not too difficult for Jungwon to find people that’s important to him. Really, it never takes much. Perhaps someone held the door open for him, he’d probably jump in front of a bus for that person not two seconds later. But to feel just as important to someone else?

He needs to be here with you. As toxic as it may seem to outsiders, Jungwon sees nothing wrong with being the person you need simply because you’re the person he needs too.

“Then stop saying stupid shit.” He mopes now as he pulls you back to your bed and holds you much like he always does, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re always okay at work, but I swear the second we come home you’re falling apart.”

You freeze, falling apart instantly.

“I wish you’d tell me what happened.” He says now, jumping into the typical routine of calming and soothing you. “I don’t know what to do when you get like this.”

You wish you would tell him too.

But if he knew, that hope of ever seeing Sunghoon again would crumble. Already, Jungwon swears to you that he will never let this happen to you again. But you want it to, so, so badly.

Even if you’re taking advantage of his care by letting him treat you like a child who can’t escape a tantrum, he really flipped his whole life because you chose to live in a crisis.

You chose to do this to yourself and to Jungwon.

Finally, you look up at him with your fingers gripping him.

“I ask so much from you.” You sniffle when you say it, immediately calming yourself and feeling like a fucking idiot for doing this. “I feel like I’m going insane.”

He nods.

“You kind of are.” He confirms for you. “And you have to talk about it eventually, it’s just going to keep hurting if you don’t.”

He’s right. He’s always right.

And like always, every single time you imagine how you’ll tell him, nothing in your brain can form a sentence. But you do try and by now, accustomed to your pain, you feel like something needs to be said before he grows tired of you too.

“I don’t know why, but I wanted him to kill me so badly.”

Saying it out loud doesn’t feel as good as you wanted it to, not with the way Jungwon’s face immediately contorts into panic.

“Wha-”

“But he wouldn’t do it.” You shake your head, refusing eye contact. “He’d do it to everyone else, but not to me.”

“Wait, what?”

Maybe choosing to say that of all things was a mistake. After all, you did appear stumbling down the street near death already. Jungwon isn’t going to take what you’re saying lightly and you were stupid to believe otherwise.

“Have you ever smelled cinnamon?” You continue, trying to skew the conversation from his panic.

Jungwon is flipping his shit trying to make sense of your words. You wanted this guy to kill you? Well, he damn near fucking did and even now, while he’s not around, you’re practically dead already in terms of everything but breathing. And what the fuck do you mean he’d do it to everyone else?!

Are you referring to an emotional death? Trying to make this shit sound poetic? Or did you really want to die?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jungwon’s voice is stern but shaky. “Kill you how?”

You shake your head.

“I don’t know.” You offer, knowing you’re just making it worse. “I wanted him to want me that badly.”

Jungwon drops his arms from you to pull back, dead-pan staring at you because he doesn’t know what to do or say to that. He forces himself to think of the reality of the situation. You’re just being poetic. You’re just being dramatic.

He’s the same way when someone hurts him too, but still. Using such heavy words scares him, and he can’t just sit here and tell you it’ll be okay anymore.

“But he doesn't.” Jungwon musters up the courage to say it, knowing you’re going to cry. “This weirdo literally tried to eat you alive, and he still doesn’t want you.”

And you do cry again.

“And now, you’re letting him kill you anyway?” Jungwon scoffs. “You’re begging me to stay here with you, just so I can watch you not even make an attempt to fucking get over it?”

You know he’s telling you what you need to hear, doesn’t change the fact that you don’t want to hear it. The only thing you want to hear is Sunghoon and his lying words, telling you that Jungwon is full of shit.

The worst part about it is that, it’s not even that you’re suicidal. You’re not. You like being alive. You’re just…you don’t know. You don’t fucking know why you wanted and still want Sunghoon to kill you.

Perhaps it’s because it would mean he needs you that much.

But he doesn’t need you, you’re not irresistible.

And that hurts you. That man fucking slithered into your heart and made a nest there. You can’t get him out no matter how much you try.

“He broke up with you. You were together for like, what? A few days?” Jungwon minimizes the situation unintentionally, panicking at the way a person he’s grown so close to has managed to be utterly fucking ripped apart by a singular man. “He broke up with you. That’s it. It’s time to stand up and move on, there’s better people out there that–”

“No.” You shake your head. “I broke up with him, I guess, if you can call it that.”

Jungwon softens, tilting his head. Now he’s getting somewhere.

“Why, then? Why did you break up with him when you didn’t want to?” Still, Jungwon is glad you chose to. Clearly you’re not as absent minded as you pretend to be. Seeing how littered your body was with pain, you knew you needed to leave, right? You weren’t really just going to let this guy wither you away, right?

“He was with someone else.”

Jungwon shakes his head in pity.

“What a scumbag. A total freak.”

“But like, he needed to do it, I guess.” You try to explain without truly explaining. “I got mad and left because he was doing something he needed to do with someone that wasn’t me.”

“He needed to cheat on you? Are you hearing yourself?” Jungwon questions, throwing his arms up. “He’s a nympho, babe, he probably manipulated the fuck out of you to make you think this way.”

And at that, you give up on talking about it. You feel too tired to continue.

“I guess so.” You whisper out with a shrug, sniffling up the tears.

“He doesn’t deserve you. You can’t just…die for people.” Jungwon says, realizing that even he doesn’t follow his own advice. He’d probably die for you himself, but not because he craves it.

He’ll never understand why you wanted this man to “kill” you. In whatever way you meant, no one is worth owning that much of you.

Jungwon hums though, knowing you’re tired now. He isn’t exactly being as soothing as he’d like to be right now but never has he seen a person act like this over a break up. Cheating hurts, of course, but you barely knew this guy. There’s no way there isn’t something else going on for you to say such insane fucking things.

“You must’ve lost your damn mind to let someone do that to you.” Jungwon says against your hair, his soft voice not matching his words in the slightest. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Me either.” You admit, feeling the insanity bubbling in your stomach and hating it.

Still, the scent of cinnamon.

“Do you smell it though?” You ask now, voice even weaker.

Jungwon inhales deeply, releasing his breath with all of the frustration in his gut.

You feel it fan across your cheek warmly, minty, and you smile.

“Cinnamon?” He asks, remembering your question from before. “Yeah, sometimes I can smell it.”

You smile bigger now.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Another two weeks pass, only this time you are coming back to yourself. Which is strange, really. You were beginning to think you’d never feel like a person again after the first month passed. Then, within another few weeks you’re almost entirely back to yourself.

You’re still a bit dissociated, which is likely due to the trauma of what you experienced and put yourself through but thankfully, the ticking-time spans you grew to hate forces itself now to be your new form of comfort. With each passing second, hour, day, and week, you’re slowly able to not forget, but accept and move on.

Still, you know it’s going to fuck you up for years to come. You’ll always have the feeling of emptiness deep inside no matter how much the space shrinks. You have no choice now but to try and fill your life and time with things and people who matter to you. At least this way, you know that you matter too.

And with this time spent away and healing, the scent has faded too. You can even go to work now without holding your breath or your eyes being forced to look at the source of the smell. In fact, you avoid taking even a glimpse of the looming cathedral. You don’t keep cinnamon in your apartment now either. You don’t take it with any of your beverages or food items, and you certainly shouldn’t be smelling it in the air anymore.

Sometimes it’s still there though, turning your stomach in a way that’s both needy and sick. You still miss him and the feeling of ice, but you know better now. Why give up the ability to breathe without your throat burning? Why give up being a person that Jungwon actually wants to be around now?

After all, you’ve started feeling so much better to the point that even he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time. Showers are back to being private, you can check your own mail, and a few times you were even able to go to work without him trying to force his way inside like his installation was still sitting on display.

Which, it isn’t, by the way. Your boss had his name and face blacklisted, but still on most days he waltzed in like he owned the place. Every single time buckling the knees of your boss, every single time being allowed to stay.

Thankfully, push came to shove and he landed himself a job there with you, his employment became official just today, actually. And as professional as the place was for you when you approached with your resume, it’s definitely not professional at all. They did pay Jungwon under the table several times just for doing shit you were supposed to be doing.

The point is, even if Jungwon wasn’t able to make the effort to keep good on his word regarding moving into your apartment to stay beside you, he still likely would have pushed to at least work with you.

Thankfully, he gets to do both those things.

And despite the fact that he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time, there’s still an immense amount of anxiety about being away from you for too long. He knows that in time, it’ll pass and the two of you can live both near each other and apart, but for now? Might as well call him your husband because there’s no way in hell he’s gonna be doing his own thing without you.

That leads to now. The same day Jungwon secured his employment, the same day you made it through without a single breakdown, the same night Jungwon needs to actually go back home to move his shit into this apartment with you.

“Come with me.” Jungwon comments, but you know it’s more of a demand. “You can meet my sister, just ignore if she makes jokes about us dating or something.”

You laugh. Genuinely, you laugh.

“Jokes? We both know you’re in love with me Jungwon. I’m just waiting for the ring at this point.”

He laughs with a shrug, knowing he probably would marry you at this point, if just to protect you from all the people who wouldn’t care for you as much as he does.

“Really though, come with me?” He asks again. “I’m still a little worried about leaving you here.”

“You’ll be back in the morning,” You start, trying to calm him down. You genuinely do feel okay right now. “I’ll just be sleeping the whole time, I'm tired anyway.”

Jungwon nods fondly, aware that it’s only practical that he make the move during the night hours. After all, his sister won’t be home otherwise and he does miss her. It’s true that you’ll probably just go to bed and he’ll be back before you even wake up tomorrow.

Still.

“You could just sleep in my old ro–”

“Wonnie.” You walk up to him and grab his face with both hands. “I’m fine.”

He smiles at you, always loving the way you do your best to reassure him even through your worst breakdowns. You’re not breaking down right now though, and he can’t help but believe every word you say when you’re looking at him like this.

“I swear to god if I come home and you so much as have a single bite mark on you, I’m burning this fucking city to the ground.”

You roll your eyes, the memory stinging only a little bit. By now though, you’ve almost entirely forgotten how it felt in the first place.

In fact, you’re shocked by the way you acted after leaving. So outside of yourself. Truly, you think you were going insane and Jungwon was right to confirm that for you. You’re lucky you had him here with you, because you likely would have ran right back into that fucking cathedral and–

Yeah. You would have done something dramatic.

You didn’t though. And sure, you now know vampires exist or whatever but Sunghoon has not bothered you even once since you left. You hope he’s simply moved on so that your resolve doesn’t break. Jungwon worked so hard to make you feel better, and you worked just as hard. You can’t just feel bad that you don’t remember what Sunghoon’s fangs felt like against your skin.

If anything, you hope Sunghoon is freaked out by you leaving and knowing his secret. Maybe he thinks that if he tries to approach you again, you’ll tell everyone about what he is and what he did. Not that it would end with him in jail or anything. You’d probably end up in an asylum, actually, but still.

And to Jungwon’s threats of arson, you simply pinch his cheek, being sure to sit your thumb right in his dimple.

“Strictly no vampire kinks.” You smile at him, crossing both of your arms in front of yourself to create an X.

“Good.” Jungwon nods back as he puts on his shoes and heads for the door. “Call me if you need anything, I’ll keep my volume turned up. You’ve got Jay’s number too, he can be here quickly if it’s an emergency.”

He feels content knowing that you’re about to be stuck with him for as long as he can manage. It’s just one short trip back home. A mere six or seven hours spent away while he packs the shit his sister probably “forgot” to box up for him, loading up the rented van, and then unloading it here.

It’s just a short trip. You’ll be sleeping through it anyway.

And when he’s gone, you feel tired. Keeping good on your promise of going to bed almost immediately. The feeling of being alone for the night is a bit uncomfortable, so sleep comes easy as a means to escape the inevitable over-thinking you’d probably do otherwise.

No overthinking.

It’s just a short trip.

Jungwon will be back before you wake up.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah, to think it’s over.

To think he’d leave you be? To think he wouldn’t be looming around every corner watching, waiting? If it weren’t for Jungwon, these weeks wouldn’t have passed so easily for you, that much is certain.

As if they were easy for you to get through at all. Jungwon, the very person who got you through it, was the reason he stayed away, the reason you were able to heal.

Jungwon was the ward.

Was.

Deep in your sleep it’s like your body knows. The same scent fills your nose just seconds after your sleep brain feels the goosebumps spread across your skin. Instantly, you wake up and back to insanity you go

You truly wake up.

Your legs aren’t being carried by any force other than you own, and your mind is crisp and clear in your thoughts as you jump out of bed.

Not walking, running to your apartment door. You swing open the door and don’t even look at him before slamming your entire weight against his chest and clinging like a lost child. You can feel the familiar cold fear filling your body, knowing that if he truly wanted to, he could kill you right now.

All of the progress you made burns away within seconds. You’ve never felt so elated to ruin your own life.

Even when he pushes you away, nothing at this moment could make you let him go. He’s here, he’s standing right there. Your fingers grip as he pushes you back in silence, stretching his garment out far beyond the bounds of which it was sewn to withstand. It rips, and still he shoves you further back from him all while stalking forward.

Walking you back into your apartment, just to let the door slam behind him as he stands with a narrowed gaze fixated on you.

You glance up at him only for a moment, loving the crazed look in his eye. Adoring that he must have missed you to appear so full of life like this. You can only compare his eyes now to the same eyes you saw when you ran away from him.

As if they were burning on you. Or perhaps, for you?

He’s dangerous, your body feels it instantly and all you can do is lean into it.

“That’s all it took for you to leave me?” Sunghoon bellows out in a spiteful voice, the sound sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “Had your blood boiling over some minx? I told you I didn’t want you witnessing it.”

You soak in his voice like it’s your last supper, missing it so badly, adoring it even more. He speaks as if weeks haven’t passed, as if it’s a mere hour after you ran from him. You move forward to cling again, unable to think of words to say and opting to show how much you regret leaving through your actions.

Still, he pushes you away from him. A bit harder this time, to the point you almost topple over onto your back. You keep your balance only because it feels like you’re fucking floating just looking at him right now.

“I tried to pull you back to me, why did you fight it so hard?” He continues to fuss, as if he’s been thinking over and over again about all the words he wants to spit at you. Like he’s punishing you, and yet still struggling himself not to cling back. “Never has your aroma been so empty, so faint.”

You’re in shock but your body yearns for him, thankful to go back to square one. Like you’re special. Like you meant something enough to him that he’s here looking like he may give you what you’ve wanted all along.

“Countless women. Countless men. Never you, and now you manage to hide from me?” His hand shoots to your neck, pushing you back further into your apartment. “How?” He grips dangerously tight as he continues to spew his breathless words. “You masked yourself with that– that floral boy, didn’t you?”

You listen to his spiteful words like your favorite song, falling into each vibration of his vowels and consonants. Never has he spoken so much, and never have you heard his voice waver the way it is now. You can’t help but follow his movements with a smile on your face, swallowing through this tight grip on your throat.

“You cannot fathom how hard it was to stop. Do you understand how much I want to fuck every last drop out of you? You should be thanking me.”

Oh, you’re so proud. So, so, fucking proud. The glee runs through you at his needy words, even if you know better. He’ll always feed on people who aren’t you, and he’ll always probably fuck them too.

But does he show up at their house? Does he grow frustrated with them like this too?

“Did you kill her when you were done?” You ask out through his choking hand, so confident that it makes him freeze on the spot.

He’s genuinely shocked that you’re not scared. You’re not intimidated. You don’t feel bad. No, you feel proud of being hunted. Like you take enjoyment out of his suffering, much like he does for you.

On his part, it’s not intentional. You have to suffer to be next to him.

Never has a person made him suffer too though. Fucking never would he have allowed it. God, he’s infatuated with you, utterly obsessed.

“Of course I killed her.” Sunghoon admits with his brow rising up, feeding into your ecstatic reaction of his death grip on you, only gripping tighter now. “Does that please you?”

You’ve never been happier.

And he moans out at the way you shyly nod, seemingly experiencing euphoria at his admittance of murder. Oh, if only you knew how good you smelled that night. Blood pumping for him, blood boiling in emotion for him. The woman didn’t last more than a minute after you left him. He couldn’t resist at that point.

Seeing you, smelling you, fucking someone who he wished could have been you.

He’s not prepared at all for this, for you. So willing, wanting what he’s trying to avoid doing to you.

That’s why he’s here though. Unprepared, but unable to resist any longer. He has pulled and pulled, every single day trying to lure you back to him against your will. He thought he was going to have to take you tonight against your wishes.

But your eyes are sparkling for him.

“No one’s heart has ever beat quite like yours when looking at me.” Sunghoon whispers now, falling and spiraling into this moment with you, losing his composure entirely. “So loud, each pump fucking gushes.”

“And I'll chase it every time.” He continues to ramble in a way that sounds like he’s in physical pain, like the amount of time you’ve stayed away from him genuinely hurts him.

You still can’t respond though, your words are caught up in your throat right where his hand squeezes and you couldn’t even if you wanted to. He knows it too, and he didn’t intend to let you answer anyway because genuinely, he’s fucking losing himself.

His hungry lips chase forward near instant after saying those words to you, not biting, just kissing. Tasting you rather than the blood that drives him.

Because for some reason, that’s what he craves right now.

“I beg.” He cries out against your tongue, relishing in the feeling of your life clutched in his hands, not even sure himself of what he’s begging for.

“Sunghoon,” You choke out his name with a gentle voice, pulling back from his bruising lips and throwing your arms up around his shoulders. “I bet you could smell my heart shatter too.”

He moans at the strained words first and the out of body experience you lend to him second. His soul is always trapped within this dead skin, but you ascend him.

Here, standing with his hands on your throat, you hold him? You say sly, mocking words? Oh, he can give you the world. He can give you anything you want. He can be whatever you want. Never has a person had this hold on him, and never could another person be able to do what you do.

He can’t just let you go. He tried already. He’s supposed to be the one with the ability to hunt, lure, and pull. How is it that you do it to him? Your blood alone does it. The fact that all you need to do is exist within the same city and he’s ripping his bedroom walls apart wanting to get at you? He needs you.

No. You’re not going anywhere this time. He’ll give up the taste of your sweet blood if he has to. The taste of your wet tongue is enough to satiate him by this point. The feeling of your neck beneath his hands, your pretty eyes urging him to strangle the life out of you.

He’d do it too. All you’d have to do is ask. He would do anything for you at this moment, no matter the cost. He will take anything you offer.

“Oh–” He groans first, licking his lips. “I could almost taste it.” His eyes darken more, somehow, as he leads you through the apartment. All the way until that same gaze causes your legs to buckle. He can’t help it by this point, after all, he knew coming here would end up this way.

There’s no self control when his hands release your neck, your buckled legs forcing you to fall against the floor, and he gladly topples with you. His hands immediately shoot to either side of your head, holding himself up just so he can dip down and inhale you.

Fuck, he missed the way your skin smells more than he remembers. And trust, missing you was a daunting experience for him before he got here.

He inhales all over you, again and again. He trails his nose against both sides of your neck, up your cheek, into your hair, down to your neck again.

“So delicious.” He moans mindlessly. “Never have I missed someone so terribly.”

“You were with someone else.” You continue your confident scolding with a scoff, only because of the way he’s losing himself on you. This is all you could ever want and reminding him of why you left feels elating.

“My love,” He starts, speaking right up against your ear as one of his hands trails from your cheek to your waist. “My loyalty to your life is what I offered.”

Goddamn the confidence running through you smells stronger than anything he’s ever experienced. As if you didn’t already drive him to do things he never once considered. Oh, now? With you like this? He would die ten times more for you and you alone, if he could, anyway.

“Do you not recognize that I would have drained you to death, if I didn’t want you here with me?”

He lifts his head now, looking at you with so much adoration.

“You’re not a simple meal, when will you understand that?”

And when you snicker at his desperate praise, he cannot fucking control the feelings within him.

“Your little floral friend is going to be devastated,” He admits with a rumbled voice, alluding to the inevitability of him coming here tonight. “You’ve begged me for this, and now I’m begging you.”

You pause, feeling the butterflies in your stomach release in a deep breath.

“Die for me.” Sunghoon whispers, dragging that same wandering hand straight between your legs and dipping into the wet heat he’s been missing so badly. No blood, just thick, hot, wet slick. “I beg.”

You can barely comprehend his words through that ice cold feeling of his fingers pressing into you. He hums in the silence, looking straight into your eyes with the question. He’s very aware of the weight behind it too.

“My love, please.” He continues, losing composure by the seconds as he feels how warm your wet walls are hugging his fingers. “Not in a thousand years have I wanted someone more than you.”

He continues pressing his fingers in, moaning himself at how good it feels, only to feel your moan fan against his cheeks in turn. It’s something that drives him only further from the self-control he fought so hard to keep. That warm breath represents the life within you that he intends to snuff out. If at all, to keep you forever.

“And not for a thousand years more–” He’s starting to babble, his once clear thoughts racing at being surrounded by everything that is you. “Please.”

And his fingers only quicken with his thoughts, rendering you unable to answer even if you tried. The idea and confirmation in his head of not truly killing you drives him wild. It would be death, nonetheless, but not true death. For weeks he has suffered over the thoughts, always telling himself that he would never fate someone to a death such as his own.

But you, oh you. The sublime blood within you pulled him harder than he believes he pulled you. Never in his thousands of years has he experienced such a thing, nor did he know such blood existed within a person. It drives him to feel for you. To adore you. To be entirely enamored with the fact that you have shattered him from within at both the thought of losing your blood, but wanting to take all of it.

Still, he craves the taste of you to such an extent that you truly will die tonight, whether it’s against your will or not. It’s too late for him to reason with himself, feeling your walls wrapped around his fingers, seeing you act so mischievous towards his antics from before. At this point, just a blink of time compared to how long he’s lived, the decision is clearer than anything he thinks he’s ever had to choose.

If he can’t have all of your blood, you’ll waste it on a death not nearly as beautiful as he can offer.

If he can have all of your blood, perhaps he doesn’t have to lose you along with it. After all, it’s not just the blood at this point that makes him feel like a blood-drunk beast. No, no, no. It’s everything that is you. Your skin, the secretions of your body, the way your hands grip and the way your eyes blink. Blood-drunk, yes, but more so just drunk on you.

He can settle without the breath and without the blood if you’re willing to share meals with him for the remainder of time this earth has in the universe.

Sunghoon’s mind is racing at the thought. Working too fast for him to focus on everything at once, but he tries. Tucking his fingers deep, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaling as deeply as he can.

You’re feeling like you’re on top of the world in the way he falls apart on you, unable to comprehend that this is actually happening. Every word he’s said to you rings in your ears as if it were spoken in a language you can’t understand. With his fingers working you open, with his lips on your skin rather than his fangs…

You feel…different. Like he feels differently.

And you can’t stop yourself from basking in the thought that he killed that woman. What was once jealousy that he didn’t want you enough to kill you has twisted and morphed into the thought that he kept you alive because he couldn’t stand not having you.

Every whispered word confirms it, and still you can’t comprehend fully what it is he’s trying to say.

So, you focus and try to comprehend the feeling in your body that he’s offering instead. You have yearned for this cold within you. Missed it so badly you went insane.

To think you’d ever truly get over him is arguably more insane than wanting him to kill you at all.

“Did you hear me?” He whispers against your ear, shoulders shifting with each plunge of his fingers, other hand clinging to your waist so tightly, almost pulling you to him. “You could be beside me,” He moves his lips across your neck, resting his lips against the moan you let out. “Forever.”

Oh, it clicks.

And just as it clicks, he can hear your heart rate gushing the same blood he intends to take from you in full. Gushing, rushing through each vein and valve within you. Oh, he could truly devour you whole with how you’ve deprived him of this. He could leave not a trace of you left for the world to remember, but no. That would be worse than the beheadings that haunt his nightly visions.

The sound of it rushing through you, god, it makes him feel like a mad man. He can’t help but prevent your timid answers in the midst of red hot desire. He pulls his hand out of you, spreading his palm against your healed thighs instead and spreads your legs out wide from under him.

He’s quick to move down. No kissing, no biting, nothing like what he wants to do. He needs to satiate his desire somehow, and he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of your blood until the time comes.

And when he pulls your sleep-shorts and panties off of you, he’s immediately licking a languid stripe up your glistening cunt. He remembers how it looked in red, the thought sending his body into overdrive at the taste of you now compared to that night.

Still so sweet. Almost as good as the blood. Ah, it serves as a reminder that perhaps he can give up the blood after taking it from you. This alone is enough. So creamy, so slippery.

Yes, yes. A confirmation. It’s you, not just your blood. It’s you he won’t live without. Your mind, your voice, the wet you spill, the cum you’ll let him fuck out of you.

It’s always you.

And he hums into it, licking into you as far as his tongue can manage. He braces both hands on your thighs just to spread them further, skewing his head to reach deeper, deeper, fucking deeper. Tasting you, smelling you, utterly obsessed with you.

All you can do is shoot your hands down, forever waiting to feel his teeth sink into you but only feeling pleasure. So much pleasure. All of his freezing body parts just send consistent shivers up and down your spine. It’s like you can feel him under your skin when he does this, even with his hair tangled in your fingers as if you’re appreciating him for all of it.

It’s so good. With the way he doesn’t need to breathe. He keeps his tongue in you, and even still you feel as if you don’t need your clit stimulated at all with the way he’s working his mouth so aggressively. And it’s good with the way his fingernails dig into your skin not yet enough to cause blood, unlike before. Good with the way he hums into you through it all, the same way he did when he’d feed on you.

Ah, it’s just, it’s good. It’s dreamy. All of it feels like a fantasy up until he does pull back.

You look down in time with him looking up, those pretty eyes no longer looming and dark. Still crazed to an extent but you know they’re for you.

“Sunghoon,” You whisper out, watching him closely with the way his eyes roll back at even hearing his name on your tongue so prettily. “Why aren’t you feeding?”

You feel his fingernails leave more half moon shapes in your skin at the question. His eyes open in a half-lidded stare at you now, lips falling slack.

He looks so pretty, with the wet coating of his plush and pretty lips, your hands still tangled in his hair.

He still just looks at you. He doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink, and doesn’t answer.

“You’re so quiet now.” You comment, feeling shy with the way he stares at you rather than your open pussy right in front of his mouth. “Say something.”

And within a single blink, his face is right up against yours, one hand still keeping your leg spread open, the other pinching your chin as he continues to stare.

“Let me have you.”

You hear his words clearly this time, breath caught in your throat up until he kisses it out of you. He breathes you in deeply, trying to drown himself in all that is your life before what he will inevitably do.

“Let me.” He pleads again, his eyebrows falling as if he’s in genuine pain to say it.

Your arms reach around his neck, staring at him with so much confirmation in your eyes. You’d let him have anything he wants. Anything.

And he groans at you, releasing your chin just to reach down to get his length out, appearing as though looking at you like this alone is enough to make him crumble to dust. He’s been aching this whole time too, since before he even left the cathedral. Borderline edging himself from both the pleasure of your body wrapped around him and the pleasure within you that would satiate his hunger just for a moment.

He misses the feeling of you so badly. The warmth, the slide, the way you cling to him like nothing he could do would scare you.

Just….one last time, he wants to feel warm.

And he chases for the heat inside of you, sliding in without breaking eye contact, without waiting, without savoring it.

It knocks the breath out of you again, forgetting just how cold it is when he settles in deep. So fucking deep.

You wince in pain before moaning out to him, whispering his name in a drawn out sigh.

“Ah, my love,” He groans at your reaction, his hips immediately moving. “My pretty, pretty, love.” Your walls hug him so perfectly, taking every inch with just a tiny wince. “Will you still sound so lovely?”

You don’t understand the question, but you nod to him, wanting nothing more in this moment than to prove your worth to him. To please him.

Such an insane woman, he thinks. Letting him take you and have you in whatever way he wishes. Whether living or dead, he truly believes every mindless nod you give to him. It’s clear, you’re just as deeply infatuated with him as he is with you.

Both of you would give and take happily, no matter what it is.

And fuck he can feel your living pulse against him with each fast and torturous thrust, snapping his hips so quickly into you. He can’t help but fuck hard and with purpose. Slamming in and out with echoed slaps and mindless groans.

Everything that you are could end him in an instant and all you can do is moan out for more.

Oh, he gives it. Of course he does. He will give you anything. Everything.

And it only becomes harder to resist when he kisses against your lips again, swallowing each moan of his name, exhaling it back out to you with the sound of your name. A mantra of two people, facing only death together and loving every heart-wrenching second of it.

The cold within you flourishes with each sound in his throat, you squeeze around him, your legs hug against him, your arms wrap tightly against his neck as he kisses you. Your body can’t withstand the speed of his cock slamming into you for much longer without coming undone.

And he doesn’t stop, seemingly never growing tired. Up until he feels your body clench entirely around him, he clings back at you at the feeling, whispering handsome words and proud promises.

“Already?” He grunted out first, hearing your blood rush and your muscles tense. “Ah, can hear it rushing through you, let it go, love.”

And you do, you let it go despite wanting it to last longer. So, so much longer.

He lends you a choked and inward groan at the way you react to his relentless thrusts, flexing his abs and pointing his cock as deeply into you as he can reach. And for the second time, Sunghoon feels the warmth of you spill over him. Prettier than the blood, your voice so, so, sexy choking out a string of curses just for his ears to adore.

“There you go.” He coos through it with his own groans, savoring every squeeze and squelch, adoring the sounds you make for him.

And as he watches, he can’t help the feeling inside of him. Your heart is beating so fast through the pleasure only he can offer you, and he keeps doing it. Fucking you through the orgasm only to not stop after the fact either.

It’ll be the last time he’ll ever feel heat like this on him. He can fuck any and every victim, but none will feel as good as you. Partially because you aren’t being manipulated, he has no hold on your mind right now. You’re not gripping and moaning because you’re in a daze, you’re doing it because you fucking want it.

God, having sex for the sake of sex is something he hasn’t done in a long time before you. Enjoying in the pleasure, fucking suffering through all of it. Truly, for him, if this is the last time your body will be warm, he’s going to take his goddamn time making sure you’re well aware of just how good you could have it if you let him keep you forever. Cold and dead, he’ll still love the feeling of your body.

So much that still, even with your orgasm dripping all over him, he pushes and he pushes. Thinking only of how he plans to drain you in more ways than once tonight. He can hold off for as long as he can with his own pleasure, because this alone is fucking bliss.

And he doesn’t care if he’s knocking the breath out of you, only because he knows that soon enough, you’ll never have to worry about breathing again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re unsure as to how long Sunghoon has been lying with you like this, but you were able to get a bit of rest against him. Even with your fingers feeling like ice wrapped up in his, you feel safe and at home here.

Not because you are at home, but because he’s here with you.

The night outside your window tells you that you’ve not been sleeping for long, but you can barely recall coming to your bedroom at all with him. He must have carried you here and cuddled himself up against you.

You stir in his grasp, peeking an eye up at him.

“You’ve rested enough?” Sunghoon smiles at you with saddened eyes, his pupils still blown and hair an absolute mess.

You shift against him, turning to face him entirely.

As he looks at you, all he can do is remind himself that he’s never considered fating someone with this curse until finding you. With your pretty jealous words and your intense need to have him take you out of this world all together. Never has he given the chance for another person to know him so deeply and have them react with only fondness and desire.

This is his chance, isn’t it? To find forever?

As monstrous as he is, he does still have desire. The feeling of loneliness isn’t meant to be grown accustomed to. For him at least. All of his fellow vampires have companions, and he swore he’d never do that to another person.

Perhaps it’s because many of the vampires he has mingled with took their companions by force. He could see the disdain in their eyes, and that’s not something he thinks he could live with. But you don’t look at him like that. You slept soundly next to a man wanting to kill you. Actively struggling not to do it with each and every breath you take.

And oh, since the start of his curse, the need to taste that last famed drop lured him to every meal he’s feasted on up until now. Such a delicious flavor, truly the best sensation running down his throat. To have you offer that last little sip to him? Ah, fuck.

The feeling in his stomach flutters at the thought of turning someone for the first time. Knowing that someone will be you. Knowing that you wouldn’t be a companion filled with resentment and agony at your new life.

It’s electrifying. Like his heart could beat again at any second because you truly make him feel like he’s never experienced death at all. Despite being surrounded by it, despite experiencing it himself, despite taking lives daily for thousands of years.

It’s amazing to him, to love someone so much he’s willing to fate them with eternal thirst, congealed blood, glitter and gold, beautiful and ugly, accidental lures before intentional ones.

Death.

Vile, cold, damp skin. Safe light of the moon, dust in the sun. The only threat is that of life itself.

Light. Sharp pointed dogwood stakes. Beheadings.

But…a companion.

The life he could live with you, oh the joy that runs through him is far too beautiful. The forever life. Eternity. Living through it all, far surpassing the roaches and bacteria of this earth. With you.

So many things you’ve forced him to understand. Loneliness, despair, want, need, envy. It’s been so long since he’s entertained petty mortal feelings, but you forced them into him and out of him. The only need he’s grown accustomed to was hunger and thirst. Never love, or warmth, or want.

Oh, forever. The two of you could starve after draining every living soul. All it takes is for him to take that last gush of blood from you.

Without the lure. Without the manipulation.

Never would he perform the rite without your pleasant voice telling him to. Never would he want to spend eternity with a woman so luring who would want nothing more than to be the blade slicing through the bone in his neck.

That legendary, utterly delicious, last drop of blood that he’s tasted so many times before. It’s different this time only because the blood isn’t for him and him alone now. He has to share it, and it pains him to know that none would taste quite like yours.

The hardest part would be controlling his instinct of swallowing it instantly, rendering you dead and unmoving for the eternity he wishes to have you.

A new feeling.

Anxiety.

Your death would be slow, a cold and dreary one, but it wouldn’t be lonely. He’d make sure you feel so good through it. He wouldn’t spill a drop. You’d be clean, avoiding a gruesome death otherwise.

And time would be against him, because upon taking that last drop, he’d barely be able to savor it before continuing the rite. A final sip that he can’t even swallow. A final sip that must be fed to you. Blood leaving your veins only to slide down into your emptied stomach through dead lips.

There, a final exhale, and then forever inhales.

You’d look so beautiful dying next to him. He’d hold you through it.

Is fate so dreary in a moment like that? Where is he feeling something akin to love for the first time in lifetime after lifetime? Is he selfish to need you so badly?

“You could have it all.” He inhales the words at your drowsy face nearing sleep again. The silence you lended after his last comment kept him in his head, and now he wants out of it.

He hugs against you so tightly, trying to keep you awake despite knowing he likely fucked you too long and too hard. Still, he wants to encourage a life with him for you.

“I can give it all to you.”

You’re silent at his words as you listen to him. You soak them into your sleepy head and smile.

“Sunghoo-”

“I beg of you.” He answers for you, grabbing your face tightly and landing an immediate kiss against your lips. A deep kiss, one that…oh. He’s crying.

You feel the cold wet hit your cheeks as he kisses. He does it before you can even move your own lips against him, but you do start to kiss him back. Your brows furrow in concern at this new emotion he’s showing to you, but your handles are gentle when you caress his cheeks through it.

“Die for me.” He whispers through the kiss, trying not to let you pull back at the words. He knows now that you heard them loud and clear.

Oh.

Why is there nothing in this world that you want more?

“It’ll only hurt for a little while.” He tries to make it sound pretty with his soothing whispers, not yet realizing that he hasn’t cried in several centuries. “You’ll come back.”

“Are you asking me to–?” You breathe out for him, once, twice, and then never finish what you were trying to ask simply because he makes himself very clear.

“You can be like me, my love.”

Your body pulses in fear, but the adrenaline hits you in all the right spots as you break eye contact to cling instead, this time shoving your nose up and against his neck. Wanting nothing more than this dead skin, needing nothing more than a man who wants to kill you.

But Sunghoon doesn’t want to end you, no. He wants to keep you forever.

And forever is different with Sunghoon. It’s never ending.

Are you even prepared to never see an end? With the man whispering so sweetly to you? Absolutely.

Would a split second decision like this ruin your life forever? What's forever anyway? When you have many lives to ruin and many more to deem a success if you choose to go with him.

Die. Only to live forever?

You nod once, then you shake your head. His arms wrap around you tightly at your indecisiveness. He’s content enough just knowing you’re considering it and truly, he’s trying to be patient. Waiting and well aware that the question is likely the hardest decision you’ll ever need to make.

“I’ll beg again and again.” He whispers, feeling your panicked lips try to calm your breathing against his neck. Still, you’re clinging to him tightly and it makes him feel…happy. “I cannot fathom a death for you that’s not this. Forever gone from me.”

You shake your head again, but then…you nod.

“Will it hurt?” You ask, feeling your heart rate threaten to kill you before Sunghoon even gets the chance himself.

“Tremendously.” He chuckles at the ignorance, though even he barely remembers the pain himself these days.

“Only for a little while, darling. I told you.” He licks his lips, anticipating the blood running through you to run through him soon. The hunger is almost overcoming him now and if you don’t agree, he very well may end up killing you regardless.

And the thought pains him.

If there was ever a time to hold himself back, it’s now.

“Don’t die without me here with you. Now or ever.” He continues in a sweet voice, trying to control the wavering breaks his throat is trying to force out of him.

“Can I…” You stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can I have a minute to think?”

“Oh course,” He smiles to hide his frustration, pulling you back by your shoulders and sitting himself up against your bed. “But, the sun rises in three hours, and that’s three hours of fighting my urge to do it without your confirmation.”

You pause, finding comfort in the fact that he’s willing to suffer through your inevitable acceptance. There’s no way you’ll end up saying no to him, only because of how badly it hurt when you walked away from him. It rotted within you for weeks, and even when you thought you were better…all he had to do was stand outside your door to have you running to be in his arms.

What’s a bad decision when you could have lifetimes to make up for it? Even if said decision is what gives you those lifetimes. He’s asking for you to stay with him. To be with him. Isn’t that what you want?

But to die…

And you only cling to him through the fear, hoping he can save you from what he’s offering. He’s the comfort and the ultimate end.

Or, perhaps, the ultimate beginning.

You’re not sure. You only found out vampires are real like two months ago. It’s not exactly something you can comprehend so quickly, but it is something you know you want more than anything if it means you can be next to Sunghoon.

“Will it ease your fear if I talk about what it’s like to be me?” Sunghoon offers both a reason to give you insight, as well as distract his own mind during this moment of distress.

You nod immediately, hugging yourself so tightly to his side and trying to keep your nose up and against him simply because that brings you the most comfort. Smelling the faint cinnamon, feeling him against you.

“I’m the first of my family to reside here, but I’ve been here for thirty years. Commoners aren’t aware as I try to remain hidden save for when I need to hunt.” He starts, continuing after hearing the way your heart calms. “But, city officials know very well who I am, and where I come from.”

You listen, trying to take in his words as truth rather than fantasy.

“I was born in seventeen thirty eight, overseas. Every few hundred years I’ll relocate simply because it becomes boring watching the same country grow and be destroyed. I ran from many wars, have lived many lives.”

Oh. Okay.

“I know every language. I’ve lived every life you can imagine, worked every job you can think of to rid myself of boredom.”

“So you weren’t always pretending to be a priest?” You try to make light of the fear within you, almost, somehow, wanting to snort at his choice of current lifestyle.

“Ah, no.” He chuckles for you, rolling his eyes at how you mock him in the face of your own death. “I was a banker before this, I despised it. Only lasted about seven years before relocating here.”

A pause, you hear him chuckle.

“I really despise numbers.”

In the calmness of his voice, within his gentle grasp, you feel comfortable.

“Did you come for the cathedral?”

He nods, holding you against him even tighter.

“History is protected, whether it be land, buildings, or people. It felt fitting to be a priest if I was to stumble inside parading as a drunken man needing a place to stay.”

“How did you become, uh, what did she call you? Master?”

“Ah,” Another scoffed chuckle at your ignorance. “Did you believe them to be alive?”

You freeze, body stiffening at the shock. They were fucking dead?! This whole time?!

“I slept in a cathedral full of fucking vampires?!”

“You did.” He smiles. “But they are very well aware of what’s mine.”

He loves the way your face looks when you process words. He is more aware than you think of how insane all of this must sound to you. Yet, still, he has never truly lied to you.

“They needed an order, so I brought that order. Thus, Master.” He smiles as he motions towards himself with you still in his grasp, as if he’s playfully boasting his own intelligence over the vampire-nuns.

You pull back to look at him, feeling a bit calmer now in the way he describes countless lives and knowledge. You can’t experience any of that with the life you have right now. In fifty to sixty years you’ll be in an urn on your mother’s fireplace.

Why would you want that when you could be in a bed with silk sheets? Or perhaps by then you’ll be able to travel elsewhere with Sunghoon, finding new beds with even softer sheets.

And only now do you realize that Sunghoon didn’t put you in danger at all. In fact, he knew he was dangerous and forced you to live. Even when you asked him to kill you. He…

Oh. Wow.

“Now, what is it, you think, that made you so special in regards to that woman you found me with? What is it, love? What do you believe kept me from ending your life to sustain my own?” And goddamn does it feel good to finally say it. Sunghoon loves the feeling of the words coming out of his mouth, finally spilling it all to you and seeing you only react with cheeky curiosity.

“Why is that? Can you tell me?”

You’re silent as you think of his questions, unable to answer at all.

“No…” You breathe out, knowing he can feel the hot breath against him only because his hand squeezes your waist.

“I suppose after how long I’ve wandered this earth, even I am left with curiosities and questions too.” He smiles when he says it, thankful to know he hasn’t yet experienced everything there is. “I’d like to know why you have this hold on me too, darling.”

“Maybe it’s because I want it?”

“Perhaps, yes. If you didn’t I likely would have savored every ounce of you already and for that, I should be thankful.”

He shifts now, pressing you down against your bed and hovering over you with dark and sparkling eyes. His lips immediately go to your neck with the hunger he feels. Talking isn’t enough anymore. Holding you isn’t enough. He hasn’t eaten in days, and the fact that he could hold off even until now is strange to him.

“Unlike many, you do not seek death–” He drags his lips against your skin, relishing in it. “You exist alongside it happily, you welcome it.” He continues to talk, his teeth now retracting against your skin and leaving little swollen scratches with each drag. “Perhaps had I not chosen to be a priest during this lifetime, you’d have already said yes.”

“A singer? A dancer? Anything you wish for, I’ll become.” He smiles when he feels the goosebumps plump up under his teeth, and it’s so, so, hard not to bite. “So, won’t you stay? “

He listens so closely to your heart and breathing, nearly moaning at the need for it.

“Watching you wither to death by anything other than my own teeth would surely have me seekinga dogwood.”

Ah, so the fantasy movies and novels aren’t all wrong? So strange, truly, that he lives in a cathedral of crosses made from the very wood that could kill him.

“We could be anything, go anywhere, dine on meals you merely taste but never need.”

He nods his head against your skin, hoping you’ll nod along with him, knowing that you will.

“You could be mine, forever.”

You’ve accepted him already, you just haven’t said so yet. He doesn’t mind sweet talking you though, reminding you of everything he can and will provide.

And to you, every single word he mutters is pretty, and everything you could ever need or want is right here.

“I could be yours, forever.”

“I think–” You breathe out, hands now reaching up to scratch through his hair. “there is nothing I could want more than this.”

And the moment he gets that final word of confirmation out to you, he bites. The words you mutter drive him to it. He couldn’t even kiss you in appreciation simply because his instinct takes over. He lets go.

Finally, he can let go.

The need to control himself is no longer here, and it feels astounding.

The sting is deep and it rings within you so loudly that you could hear the puncture vibrate your brain. Your ears burn at the direct puncture, and already you can feel his hands bracing you through it. As if he knows he’s never bitten you so deep in your pulse point like this.

But the intention behind it somehow feels better than anything you’ve ever experienced. This is what you were jealous of and now you can only agree with your past self. There was good reason to be jealous of feeling this from him. Except, unlike that woman, he’s holding you through it. He’s grunting against your neck and swallowing large portions of your blood as the seconds pass. Losing himself with you. Almost as if he’s dying with you.

And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks, to the point your toes are feeling the sleep overtake them, then your legs, all the way up and down your body until your fingers are too weak to keep gripping against the locks of hair on the back of his neck.

You feel his fingers soothe you through the weakness when he pulls back, keeping his promise of not wasting a single drop. There is no blood smeared on him, only a trace of it on his inner lips as he watches your weakened expressions.

He isn’t intentionally draining you so quickly, but…fuck. The blood. That glorious scent and taste was already too much to bear, but now? Knowing he gets all of it save for the best and final sip? He genuinely can’t help it. Controlling himself now after how long he’s held back?

Darling, you asked for this.

And his body reacts in aroused euphoria. Already he feels an orgasm bubble up just witnessing you die for him. Even then, he barely feels the heightened pleasure because the mind, dead or not, simply cannot comprehend the pure potent pleasure he’s experiencing.

He spills out all over himself, while you spill out for him. Your life, your very being.

How can he not be terribly, horrifyingly, utterly stupendously in love with you?

“My love, the light in your eyes will come back soon.” He smiles as he watches what happens to you through this, and then throws his head back in manic pleasure with a deep and animalistic moan. Arguably, even his eyes hold more life than yours right now.

So, so beautiful.

You’re too weak to speak, but you shake your head. Nothing is a pain to lose, nothing except him.

And you find comfort in the way he sinks his teeth right back into those puncture marks. Sucking more and more out of you with a content smile on his face. He doesn’t think he could ever feel happier, knowing you’re giving him everything, and he wants nothing more than to return the favor to you.

Oh, how he wishes it were you sucking the life out of his veins. You’d be so gentle, you’d look so pretty losing your mind like he is right now.

You continue to feel your body grow numb, up to the point that your heart rate slows at the loss of blood. To the point you can tell he’s sucking harder and harder just to get more. You feel a weight shift inside of your body, it writhes and chokes every inch of your innards.

Shrivelling, spiraling, cramping.

If you could curl in on yourself right now, you would, but you’re too weak even for that. You can’t even twitch a finger against Sunghoon at this moment as you feel everything within you dehydrate and search for life.

It hurts.

Badly. So badly that at this moment, you can’t remember a single thing that has ever felt good. In fact, everything is painful. Life is painful and horrifyingly full of things that will hurt you. But–Sunghoon is here. That much, you still recognize. Even through the pain, and even through the twisting inside of you, he remains constant. He’s soothing you through it well past the comprehension of your dying brain.

You can’t shiver at the loss of warmth, but you do try to take a breath. Working your weak body to near exhaustion just at the act of trying to expand your lungs. And oh, you can’t even open your eyes at the way the last breath doesn’t come. You must have lost it already.

And then, darkness.

Nothing.

And it feels like this for an eternity. Nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing to fear or love.

Absolutely fucking nothing. And to think humanity has built governments off promised afterlifes? To think anything ever mattered in the first place? The emptiness soothes and relieves your still working soul, wisping in the darkness for eternities more it seems.

To the point names and faces leave you, and all you can think, feel, or hear is that of unfilled space and pure, deafening, silence. You cannot feel content, or peace, or happiness here. You just feel nothing. And it truly feels good to be nothing.

Until there's warmth. You feel it somewhere hugging you, or perhaps inside of you? Do you even have a body to hold warmth now within this vast void of darkness? Why do you hear…?

Feelings come back to you tenfold. Seemingly experiencing everything you’ve ever felt and lived through all at once. That deafening silence becomes louder, louder, louder, until– it flourishes in the pit of your belly.

So much chaos within you. Swirling and bubbling in such a way that it fucking blooms in this darkness. You feel like you’re burning, freezing, dying, living, fucking drowning all at once.

That flourish forces the nothingness out of you. As comfortable as this place is, there is nothing and you want something. You need something. You crave…something.

A little dribble running down your throat leaving a trail of warm, blooming heat. As if you just swallowed a sun-ray itself. Only now can you feel your body again enough to know where the heat is coming from. It blossoms within you, increasing each sense within your body tenfold.

It doesn’t hurt.

Only now do you recognize that it’s silent again, as if you were slammed into a wall by the force of the god you now know does not exist. You feel yourself restrict under skin, you feel cold, you feel…heavy.

And the silence is still too loud to be so restricted. You miss the sounds of what you must have unintentionally listened to every waking moment of your life. The only true soundtrack of a living, loving, and heat-radiating being.

No heart-beat. No whirring of blood. No rumbling in your stomach. Nothing.

And yet still, it doesn’t hurt.

Just a bouquet in the pits in your belly. Your precious life, all summed up in that single diluted sip of blood.

And somehow, someway, you regain your strength faster than it took for you to lose it. You open your eyes on instinct and the world is glowing. Sunghoon is glowing. As lifeless as you are, and as empty as your brain is at this moment, you reach out to him immediately.

But he has yet to let go of you since all of this started. He stayed. He held you, just like he said he would.

“Did it hurt badly?” Sunghoon calls out to you, helping your mind awaken again.

He barely remembers the pain he went through when it happened to him. Truly, pain is so temporary, so meaningless to indulge but, the curiosity still sits with him.

After watching you for upwards of two hours to both die and come back to life, he can’t help but wonder if it was anything like what he experienced.

Even with that curiosity though, seeing you open your eyes for the first time in your new life fills Sunghoon with overwhelming glee. To the point he feels like a child, wanting to ask so many questions, thoughts shifting from this, to that, up until all his thoughts run together and all he can do is squeeze you in his grasp.

He’d have pulled down the stars if he could just so it could be your first view of the afterlife with him. But alas, he couldn’t step away even for a moment. He needed to be with you, not just for your sake, but his own.

You’re cold now, but oh, the blood within him could satiate him for hundreds of years. It’s gone from you now, and he fears not missing it. Not when you’re here. Not when you chose to be here with him.

You weakly nod to him, amazed at being able to do it again. Already the pain you’d previously felt feels like a long lost memory as you stare back at him.

“I’m sorry.” He smiles through the apology, unable to pretend he means the words at all. “I didn’t intend to drain you so quickly. My poor love, you must have felt miserable.”

You nod again, feeling him so tightly against you.

Only just realizing that he’s holding you. Your body, it’s coming back to you. You can feel sensations again.

“I feel–” Your voice cracks with a dry throat and you inhale.

On instinct, you try to exhale but your throat just gets drier and drier.

“I–”

Sunghoon coos, shushing you with a gentle kiss. Lending you his own saliva because if there’s one thing he can remember, it’s the act of learning how to…not breathe.

“Slowly, love, slowly.” He smiles when he pulls back, watching you swallow around his gift and instantly droop your eyes again.

“You’ve only just died and you have all the time in this world to speak, no need to do it now.”

And he’s right. You’re spinning, yet balanced. Fuzzy yet smooth. You are everything and nothing at this moment with your glowing after-death aroma. Sunghoon smiles, cradling the back of your head.

Finally, he’s gotten to drink you in full. No true death, and he feels more elated than he ever expected. Almost lulled to sleep at the scent of you disappearing. Never will he taste your blood again, but you. He has you now. Knowing you had a taste at all is enough. Knowing that he has broken for you enough to beg you.

To beg you to die for him just to be with him on a level deeper than thirst.

Never once has he wanted someone like this.

And never once had he expected you to agree with him.

The moment is sweet with him, and still you’ve yet to comprehend the truth reality of your life now. You know at least, that it could take longer than you’d have had previously to figure it out. You did this to be with someone, and that someone is right here next to you. Smiling, clinging, seemingly ecstatic to know he’s no longer alone.

A forever companion, truly this time.

And as sweet as the moment is, time still moves even after becoming ageless.

“The sun will rise soon,” Sunghoon hums at your reluctant gaze at the window. “Shall we go home?”

You would nod. Truly, you would, if it weren’t for that suffocating scent entering your nose.

Roses? No, tulips?

Lavender?

Your belly pangs, a dry and itchy feeling overtaking your entire being. To the point that Sunghoon clinging to you can’t even calm the itch. The world stops at the scent, so strong and sweet.

Sunghoon smells it too though, and he knows. He’s experienced it time and time again, though he’s long since learned how to control it, clearly. He purses his lips in frustration. You’ve only just come back, and he’d very much like to get you home with him so that you can learn and grow accustomed to this life. You need to realize that you haven’t even experienced the hardest part yet.

Disappearing.

After all, his intention was to hunt for you, teach you, comfort you. There’s so much to do now that the deed is done, and he hadn’t prepared for interruptions such as this.

Unfortunately, he knows very well the thirst. You won’t be able to control it, especially considering he knows this scent too. He has to force himself to try and lend you alluring words, but they seem to go through one ear and out the other.

Your brain is empty at the scent.

“Ah, what a turn of events.” He tics his tongue with a smile. “I smell him too.”

Your eyes do not reach Sunghoon at all, but he understands. Even with the jealousy in his gut.

A key clicking into a lock, a turn of the knob. The sound is amplified in your ears along with the scent.

“Wake up and help me unload all this shit!”

Oh, what a shame.

You really loved Jungwon.

“Can you smell it flowing through him?” Sunghoon smiles at the light in your eye now, endeared by the way scent ignites you entirely. As envious of Jungwon as he is to hold certain parts of you when he couldn’t do it himself, seeing the way you react arouses him beyond belief.

Your first feeling of thirst.

“Shall I greet him?”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jungwon peers at the stoic figure that appeared from your bedroom. His first thought is that he’s going to kick your fucking ass because number one, this better not be who he thinks it is. And number two–

There is no number two. A mere three seconds after stepping into his new home with you, his mind goes fuzzy. Thinking only of you, of needing to see you, of needing to make sure you’re okay.

He wants to know if you slept well, and if you were able to have any sweet dreams without him here.

“Jungwon, I take it?” Sunghoon lends him a lively smile, impressed by the pull you unintentionally lay on the guy.

“Ah, yeah.” Jungwon weakly scratches the back of his neck before feeling his body move on its own. “Where is she? I need to see her.”

It’s a pity, really, but Sunghoon has seen it time and time again with his own victims. A weak mind, one that is easily broken and even easier to lure. It’s kind of cute really, seeing how breathing humans cling to what balances them.

He almost feels bad for taking you from Jungwon, but he doesn't only because he hates that he has to see you drink from someone you were attached to. He knows it’ll hurt you when you realize, and he no longer wants to see you hurt after witnessing your death.

As beautiful as it was.

Jungwon truly chases you, stepping through the apartment and dropping everything in his hands without care. He heads straight to your room, swallowed in a somber smile and a welcome scent. One that he doesn’t know is death.

“Wonnie.” You rasp sweetly. “Come here.”

There’s no reluctance within him, even upon hearing Sunghoon close the door behind him and lock it. Even when the man looms at the door, watching, narrowing his eyes at you in jealousy.

You ignore it as you grow enamored with Jungwon at this moment. Is this what his life smells like? So pretty, it truly fits him.

And it drowns out all of your thoughts. The flowers, like a fresh spring day with no worry. You think it’s your favorite smell in the world as you inhale him with each step he takes toward you.

For Jungwon, even upon feeling you grip his shirt, pulling him closer than he’s ever been to you without the excuse of comfort, he pays no mind. He missed this bubble he shared with you, the single night with his sister almost felt like agony to be away from you.

After all, the love he holds for you is truly deeper than romance. There is no need for any physicality between the two of you, yet…he welcomes it at this moment. In fact, he’s entirely aroused, stiffening in his pants at the sheer blissful anxiety your uncanny smile and shining eyes lend to him.

Did you truly miss him so much?

“You look so pretty…” He trails off, closing his eyes as he feels you caress his warm cheeks. “Your hands are so cold, let me—ah”

You’ve never felt an instinct quite like this. You could truly hear it, the pulse of his heart. You can still smell his sweet scent, and you truly weren’t in control of your own body when you gripped him, lifted, and sank your teeth right against his pulse point.

Jungwon moans at the bite, drifting off entirely at first contact.

All while Sunghoon continues to loom. Watching with weight in his pants. The way you bite so messily, spilling blood and wasting it as it trickles down Jungwon’s throat. The small sounds your mouth makes as you suck has him throbbing non-stop, to the point he almost needs to hold onto something just to keep from jumping on you, just to keep from tasting Jungwon himself.

And, oh, his pretty love, you have so much to adapt to.

It appears he does as well.

As he watches the furrow of your brows at the first taste falling to that of relief and pleasure as you drink, and you drink, and you drink, until–

Sunghoon smirks now, quirking his brow at how you stop yourself before he needs to step in and separate the two of you. In all honesty, he was unsure if he’d be able to give in and stop you either. After all, killing Jungwon now would prove easier than letting him live.

The fact that you stopped yourself though. Perhaps your mind grew more stubborn and strong-willed through death. He nearly cannot believe that you aren’t draining the man dry right now.

And you aren’t even sure yourself why you do. The feeling in your gut is full and satiated, but the grip Jungwon has on you only grows more and more limp. You love the way he clings as much as the taste, and even through his slumber, he clinged so tight.

Not so much now though, and that scared you. So, you let go.

If only because truly, you do love Jungwon. Enough to no longer pull him into your messes despite forcing him to become one at this moment. What’s even more scary is though, even with all of the endearment you held towards him in life, the feeling is only amplified now. These new bitter and floral scents pulsing through him makes you want to protect him from any leech wanting to drink it out of him.

Even if you’re the leech.

Ah, he tasted like honey suckle, and it dropped down your throat like honey too. Warm, gentle, pretty. Just like him.

And you have to continue to keep yourself from sinking your teeth into him. Your stomach is greedy, wanting more, but too in love with the life he has and willingly wanted to share with you as a best friend and forever comfort.

Forever for Jungwon is nothing but a moment to you now, but it’s one you hope he enjoys, at least.

And when you hold him against you, so weak and sound asleep, you look at Sunghoon. The tears fall so, so, cold against your cheeks. The heightened senses within you become overwhelming with the horrifying silence and intense smell of floral blood wafting through your nose.

“Much like you, he won’t remember. You lured him deeply, love, did you know that? He was asleep from the moment he saw you.”

You pause, nodding as the tears continue to fall.

“Brilliant.” He compliments now, moving to hold you as you cling to Jungwon.

“Sunghoon, did my blood taste like that?”

Sunghoon kisses you once, sucking Jungwon’s blood from your tongue.

“Ah,” He chokes. “Absolutely not.”

You pause at his scrunched nose.

“You were much sweeter.” He whispers sweetly, fondly, tilting his head to kiss against you again, licking the mess of Jungwon’s blood from your lips, chin, and neck. Still, he chokes it down. “I’ll miss it.”

“What did it taste like?” Your weak and dry voice falters repeatedly, but you need to speak right now.

“You tell me.”

You only slightly remember the flavor as you were brought back. Warm, blooming, spicy, sickeningly sweet.

“I have never tasted anything compared to it…”

“Exactly.” Sunghoon smiles, inhaling deeply and lending no breath against your skin when he scrapes his teeth there. “Like the sun.” He hums, nosing down to your neck and inhaling again, arms only slightly trying to push Jungwon out of your grasp. “Like the one thing that could get me killed.”

You cling tightly to your best friend though, not wanting any more harm to come to him. Still, you stare at Sunghoon’s sweet words, finding yourself smiling at all that is to be gained rather than lost.

Your life. The light outside, the light in your eyes, the warmth.

Not Jungwon though.

“You don’t intend to leave him be, no?” Sunghoon furrows a brow at how your face rises for him, but falls instantly at inhaling Jungwon’s blood.

You frantically shake your head.

“We’ll figure something out, love.” He says now, looking away from you and doing his best to ignore the envy that fills him time and time again when this floral-boy is near.

He told you he’d do anything for you, give anything to you.

If that includes Jungwon….

Ah, always so fucking stubborn.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun rises and falls.

Repeatedly, for months.

Jungwon wakes himself with the warm sun hitting his face, the bed just as warm from his own body heat. He loves this space, and adores the way that even if it’s only him, he never feels lonely with that pretty smell in the air.

Every morning when he wakes up, and every night before he goes to bed.

The shock of learning the inevitable still hurts him from time to time, but still, he smiles with that dimple you threatened you’d steal right off his face if he chose not to show it to you.

His hand reaches to his neck, the single wound you gave him and apologized profusely for after. It’s healed well.

And when his phone vibrates in the middle of the day, he wonders why you’re awake.

You: wonnie

Wonnie: wat

You: come over

Wonnie: was wondering why you were trying so hard. nearly suffocated this morning.

You: and you were fighting it? asshole

Wonnie: be over in a few, stinky

And as strange as it is, Sunghoon doesn’t mind that you wouldn’t let Jungwon go. After several conversations needing reassurance that you’re not trying to spend your forever elsewhere, anyway.

Really, to think you’d die for him but want someone else? Sunghoon truly is insane, but so are you.

And it works.

Because Jungwon loves insanity, even if he hates Sunghoon with a passion. Even if he can only see you with Sunghoon in the room too. Even if you’re dead.

You’re still his best friend, and he doesn’t mind helping you disappear as long as it’s not from him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

not me accidentally making this a sunghoon ft.jungwon fic.

let me make this incredibly clear. jungwon are reader are not romantically in love, though they do love each other deeply. in a way where finding out one of them is a goddamn vampire doesn’t change a single thing or feeling.

remember that this is fiction, it isn’t meant to be realistic.

pls do not rant at me about how much jungwon is in this fic either. i wrote it that way on purpose. if you don’t love best friend jungwon then im very sorry for you and hope you get well soon!!!

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enha smut

667 notes · View notes

eddiemunson-mylove · 1 year

Text

"It's Just Us"

author's note -

back again with another smut for ya'll. Was not expecting it to be so long yikes! I'm going to thank @lovejosephquinn for basically threatening me to get this done :)

I'm also going to tag @thepastdied as a fellow big titty bitch. This one is for the girlies like us

a classic friends to lover's trope, with the additional bed sharing trope... ahhhhhh

summary -

After sharing a bed with your best friend, you wake up to see him ogling at your tits... do I really need to say more?

slightlypervy!virgin!Eddie x largechested!bestfriend!reader

Reader can be perceived as plus sized as she is a part of the big titty committee, but it's not necessary

warnings -

18+ | Protected Sex (because they're smart and you should be too) | Strong Language | Reader is very insecure about her large chest (totally not projecting 💀)

word count -

5.3K

masterlist

_______________

When you woke up this morning, to say you were surprised was a slight understatement. It was the rustling of sheets next to you that had disturbed your slumber. There was another sudden movement from beside you, this time the perpetrator landed a thump to your shin followed by a soft “shit”. Typical of Eddie to immediately wreak havoc upon his first few moments awake.

He rustled some more, no doubt trying to stretch his limbs from the uncomfortable position he had left himself in last night. You, however, had yet to open your eyes and welcome in the golden morning light. You just lay completely still, ruminating on the events that had led you here to be kicked in the shin and perspiring from the additional body heat radiating from your best friend.

_______________

The night before…

Steve was to be the last out of the door. With a quick turn to the two of you as he pointed with a stern look to Eddie, “Look after her, you hear? Get home safe doll,” he directs to you with a wink and shoots off into the night.

Eddie had hosted another successful evening of drinking and catching up with his friends, now ultimately yours too. The trailer held just enough space for yourself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, and Robin to be seated. Going back and forth with one another with little updates about each other's lives. These kinds of meet ups were rare and cherished, all of you working steady jobs which resulted in time for you all to be together at once. But having known each other from school, their bond would always prevail. You’d hoped that you could get to that point with them all too.

You and Eddie had been friends for just a short while now. You had moved to Hawkins the year prior and he had been one of the first to grace your presence when the long move had kicked your car in indescribable ways. He began taking overtime to work on your lump of metal and even offered to drive you places in the beginning, though you would regretfully decline. Things escalated when you would spot him around town running errands. Sporadic meetings turned into coffee trips, turning into days out together, turning into being invited into his close group of friends. The last year has been nothing short of a dream, and Eddie has been there to encourage you and envelop you in light and laughter.

As Eddie closed the door behind Steve, he twisted his waist and clasped his hands together, “Nightcap before you go, sweets?” His grin was wicked but you know there was no malice, only mischief and a desire to keep you here longer.

“Only if I’m pouring Munson,” you clap back, “I’d actually like to wake up again in the morning.” you gave him the most exaggerated wink that you could muster, emphasised further with a pair of finger guns before plodding off into his kitchenette to find clean glasses. He followed you of course. You noticed that he did that from almost the moment the two of you met, like a lost puppy. Although you were the one that felt kind of lost when he didn’t do it.

One drink quickly became two as you began to share your fond memories of your first encounter. Two became three when you both elaborated on your in depth plans for the future, of course, including each other. You lost count after four. Your shared recollections had only catalysed a trip down memory lane, telling wild stories from high school and various adventures that you had both been on and how you wished the other could have been there too.

It was clear that neither of you were in a fit state to drive. And when a passing glance to the clock that read 2:06 had confirmed your suspicions that a taxi wasn’t going to be an option, you knew you were staying the night. Neither of you were the first to admit it. Although there was evidently a shared understanding after reminiscing about the amount of whiskey Robin had oh-so-graciously spilt over the couch in her final hour here. You were definitely sharing a bed tonight. Neither of you were against the idea. It was just a new boundary in your relationship that was going to be crossed. Friends share beds. It didn’t have to invoke such a reaction in your chest, matched with the heat rising to your cheeks. But it did nonetheless…

The whole ordeal had been awkward beyond belief. Eddie fumbling around with his duvet and clearing the one side of his bed to get rid of the collection of washing (clean or dirty? You didn’t dare ask), before he sprawled himself like a starfish across the expanse of the mattress with a high-pitched giggle to himself. You stood hesitantly in the doorway to Eddie’s bedroom, nervous at the idea of being forced into such close proximity. You suppose you could consider yourself almost afraid. Afraid that you’d become self-indulgent in the situation. That you would internalise the night too much, only to be let down when he would reinforce the friendzone card.

Too caught up in your tangle of thoughts, you hadn’t noticed that Eddie had rolled over to await your own drop onto the bed only to see that you’d stood paralysed. He shuffled himself into a seated position on the edge of the bed and peared up at you.

“Hey, where’d you go just now?” his voice was almost silent, the soft whisper lulling you gently from your trap.

“No. Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head, “just zoned out”.

He was standing up now, making his way to you slowly. Both hands had raised up to grip your upper arms delicately. Eddie stooped his head slightly to match your eye level. You too could see a flicker of nerves in his eyes.

“It’s just me, sweets. It’s just us,” he beams, “I won’t bite… unless you want me to.” Finishing his little pep talk with a wink and a nudge to your shoulder with his fist. After a deep roll of your eyes and a tired smile, you went to the bathroom to remove the majority of your clothes for bed.

Left in only your cami top from beneath your shirt and your panties, you took one final look in his stained mirror. Going braless had taken a considerable amount of convincing, ultimately choosing your own comfort rather than Eddie’s. Sure, you figured your current outfit would have him stoic enough. But you didn’t want to be the cause of his death when visible nipples became involved. Having to once again pull away from your thoughts, your feet pattered back to his room, you find him deep into dreamland anyways. An inevitable effect that alcohol had on Eddie. At least you wouldn’t have to face the awkwardness of explaining that you don’t tend to bring pyjamas with you to any and all occasions.

With just enough space left for you to crawl onto your side of the bed that he had barely left you, you pull the covers over the two of you and place your head on his embarrassingly flat pillows. You were facing each other now, and this gave you a chance to admire your closest friend while he was at his most peaceful. You already knew that you had feelings for Eddie, you weren’t oblivious to this. But to replace the friendship you had with the risk of something more just didn’t appeal to you. You loved him too much to lose him. So with a weak hand reaching up to brush a stray curl out of his face, and a soft “night,” you closed your own eyes and let Eddie’s even breaths lull you into unconsciousness.

_______________

Adjusting your eyes until they were just open a slither, you’re met with Eddie facing you. Well, his body was facing you, but the slight tilt of his chin tucked into his chest and the lack of eye contact made it clear that his focus was elsewhere. You were by no means naive. You knew exactly what he was looking at without even having to follow his line of sight.

You had always been a larger-chested girl. You started growing boobs from a younger age than most around you and they never seemed to stop growing until you’d reached your later teen years. You never missed how certain shirts wouldn’t fit you right and how dresses would bunch up if they had chest seams. But you certainly never missed how people would stare. Not even just men, anybody. The non-stop gawking if you were to wear a lower neckline, their eyes flickering from your chest to your face when you wore a tight-fitted outfit. You’d made peace with it, accepted that it’d never change. You can’t say that you were overly shocked to find Eddie in the exact same position, he was only human after all.

The thing that had surprised you had been the barely-there grin. The fondness in his expression. Almost as though he was gazing in admiration, rather than the pity or the condescension you were used to. The way his lashes fluttered as he grappled between needing to blink but wanting to stare just that little bit longer. A gentle hum escapes his lips as the corners of his mouth twitch upwards some more.

You huff a small chuckle, your own lips beaming in amusement as his head snaps up to meet you. Horror engulfs his face and his eyes, you think, couldn’t possibly widen any more. You wait for his defense, for his panicking, for his justification. But you’re met with only silence. Silence, and the look of pure dread.

“Mornin’,” you smirk at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “Enjoying the view I see. You’re acting like you’ve never seen tits before” you add after a pause, fueling the fire.

You were wrong. His eyes widened even more…

You won’t deny that there had always been a certain tension between the two of you. Not something you could quite put your finger on but the realisation was always just stuck on the tip of your tongue. You recognised it in the flirtatious banter that you shared, leading many to believe you were a couple. You perceived it in the prolonged touches, the longing stares that both parties were guilty of. But you had always been just… friends. You believed that your feelings for him were rooted in the want for attention, to be somebody’s favourite person. It had only been recently that you felt it blossom into more. Your only dilemma was whether Eddie returned these feelings.

But with him now shamefully caught ogling at your chest, you at least knew that he was definitely interested in a part of you. You began to snort a laugh at him, rolling slightly onto your back to direct your laughter away from his face into the void air of his room. Going back to face him once again, you’re met with an exaggerated pout as he grumbles out, “It’s not funny”.

You’d calmed down very quickly when you saw just how defeated he had become. His expression was crestfallen, and you’d berated yourself for thinking you’d pushed him too far. Tracing your steps back to when you could have elicited such a gloomy response from him, you suddenly drew in a sharp breath, cringing slightly at the words getting ready to leave your lips.

“Eds… you have seen tits before right?” It seemed like such a dumb question in retrospect, but you had realised in this moment that you had never seen Eddie with another girl that wasn’t Nance or Rob. And that he had never mentioned girlfriends tonight whilst you droned on about the trials and tribulations of school.

He playfully scoffs at you, “Of course I’ve seen tits before. Like, maybe. Just, like, not in real life,” he admits, defeated. It’s at this new piece of exclusive Eddie-lore that you have a lightbulb moment. Clearly he was interested in your rack, and you were interested in him. It seemed like a win-win in the first instance. You could show Eddie your tits, and then he’d fall head over heels for you!

Okay, definitely a tad far-fetched. But this was your one shot. You’d never had an opportunity to express how you felt to him before and while this method was highly unconventional, it was worth a shot. Which is what led you to vocalise,

“I could show you them, if you’d like?” you ask, more timidly than you had intended. Eddie deadpanned, awaiting the punch line. But once he saw your expression was that of sincerity rather than sarcasm, he was quick to splutter his words.

“Shit! Umm, are you sure?” he asks, “I mean yeah, that’d be great an’ all, but like, for real?” clearing his throat and trying to maintain a casual demeanor, he eagerly awaited your reply.

“Sure Eds. I don’t mind, really. As your best friend I would be honoured,” you assert with a lighthearted giggle. You don’t miss the slight wince in his face once you’d pulled out the friend card. It further fueled your hope for the future.

“Well then, as you are being so generous and noble, it is I who would be honoured,” he announced in his best medieval knight voice. The two of you broke into a fit of laughter, both feeling slightly delirious at the proposition laid out before you. That same proposition was also the reason the laughter dies down as quickly as it started and the room began to feel more silent, more serious. You’re the first to start speaking again,

“Hey, umm… before I do this, I just wanted to let you know,” you began fumbling your words in shame, “boobs don’t… look how you may think they do. Especially not like your magazines.” you finished with a tight inhale. One side of your mouth twitched upward to produce a defeated grin.

“But boobs are just… boobs?” You could see the genuine confusion flash across his features with his reply. His response only pulled a sigh from you.

“Yes. But you see, they get past a certain size and everything just sort of… falls apart?” you attempt. You’re met with no response, his silence urging you to elaborate. “Like, gravity obviously plays a big part in their demise. They’re heavy, and I mean heavy, Eddie. And because of how they fall, how they just drop down, everything is sort of… stretched out. You can see all of the imperfections, all of the pores, the spots and blemishes. And it never ends. They will never be like those blonde pin-up girls in your crusty magazines because they are not real. Real life only leads to disappointment…”

With one final push of air from your lungs you finish your speech with, “You’re more than welcome to see your first pair of real tits Eddie, but I know it’ll only end in you wishing you’d saved yourself the trouble.”

You could see that Eddie’s eyes had glossed over. You knew he had a hard time with you putting yourself down when he cared so much for you. Yet he said nothing. He just stared, directly into your eyes, as though he’d only been allowed to for the first time. With the quilt rustling again, you didn’t have time to see Eddie’s hand. You had only felt it as it made contact with your cheek, his thumb brushing your cheekbone timidly. And that was when he had spoken,

“Hey…,” his smile was gentle, his eyes were even softer, “It’s just me”

And you believe then that you know he would never judge you. Of course he wouldn’t. He wasn’t capable.

“It’s just you,” you parrot back to him, your lips finally turning up once again. He pushes out a soft chuckle from the very back of his throat as his hand comes around for his pinky to flick against the tip of your nose lightly.

“It’s just us, princess…”

That was the final encouragement. You were being silly, you thought. They are just boobs perhaps, as you reach to pull at one strap. You were just simply doing a favour for your closest friend, you justify as one arm is free from its constraints. He seemed to like them enough to gawk at them, you reason with yourself, as you begin to unceremoniously tug at the second strap from underneath you. As you whittled the strap down your arm, the fabric that had previously been shielding your modesty had peeled from your chest and your top had now bunched around your waist.

With Eddie’s focus still maintained on your face, you quickly glanced down to make any adjustments that could be deemed unsightly before peering back up to him and giving him a barely visible nod; he had seen it though. As his attention swiftly flicked back into the position you had caught him in barely 10 minutes ago, you kept your eyes on his face, desperately trying to read any facial expression or slight muscle ticks that could indicate any distaste from the man you were so eager to impress.

He retracted his hand from your cheek and began to shuffle backwards in an attempt to gauge a wider field of view for the gifts you had presented to him. The excitement he exudes was impossible to miss. Almost like a child being told to pick out a new toy of choice. His eyes darted between the pair laid out before him. Like you had explained, your boobs had gravitated more towards the mattress and drooped over your bottom arm rather than sat in the centre of your chest, much like how you imagined Eddie had expected them to be. But there was no indication that he seemed to mind as his tongue darts out to caress over his top lip, his eyes blown in bewilderment.

The sudden change in temperature after being freed from your top had hardened your nipples, making them look slightly more ‘normal’ looking than their usual flattened out state. Eddie’s hand that had previously graced your cheek was now laying flat against the bed between your two bodies, his fingers jolting and twitching slightly. You knew what your next move had to be.

“You can touch them, if you’d like?” you voice, sounding more like a small squeak than actual words. Your nerves had sent a fresh sheet of goosebumps over your skin, your nipples still peaked and aching slightly against the draft in Eddie’s room. His eyes meet your instantly, once again widening as though he was seeking your definitive permission before he gets ahead of himself.

“Are you sure?” followed by an audible gulp, “I mean, I’d love to but… you don’t have to do that”

He was so careful with his actions and his gazes that you knew you’d have to instigate anything further. Lifting your hand to grasp at his wrist that lay on the bed, you slowly spread out his palm and pressed your chest up more before placing his hand directly over the centre of your breast. A sigh of relief that you were not aware you were keeping escaped your lips in the same instance that a croaky groan left Eddie’s, the two harmonising together in perfect synchrony.

The tips of his fingers start to explore the sides of your boob, tracing shapes lightly along the thinner skin there. Allowing his fingers to prod experimentally, he gains enough confidence after a few moments to give his first delicate squeeze. While the action itself was miniscule, it was still enough to elicit a small whimper from you, causing Eddie’s eyes to once again return to yours. With his lips quivering slightly to suppress his satisfaction, his next squeeze was significantly firmer. You watched as, almost in slow motion, the fat of your breast buldged through the gaps of this fingers. Eddie seemed to watch this too, his only reaction being a low “oh, fuck…”

You huffed out a small chuckle before responding, “Everything you expected them to be?” He began to nod vigorously, his curls rubbing against his pillow. Watching his irises dance across your chest had induced many feelings. The most surprising feeling being safety. You knew that in this moment, you could rely on Eddie for anything. He would be cure to all ailments, the cause of all of your laughter. He held the key to your heart, and you knew that he would guard that key with his life. The realisation brings a fond smile to your face. The strongest feeling, however, was enough to wipe the smile straight off your face. That feeling that could not be mistaken for anything else…

You wanted him. You wanted Eddie Munson, your best friend. You desired him, longed for him… burned for him. And just as these revelations had made themselves apparent, Eddie had gently swiped a thumb across your peaked bud causing you to shudder. No, you didn’t want him, you needed him. With your mind now clouded with lust, you reach up a hand to cradle the side of his face, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb. You needed to approach this right. Needed to make absolutely sure that you hadn’t read it wrong, that the line was worth crossing. And as Eddie slowly shifted his gaze to meet yours, his eyes completely blown out and hazy with what you could only recgnise as lust, you had all the confirmation you needed.

But before you could even process what your next move would be, Eddie had already lunged forward and forcefully connected your lips together. You let out a sudden gasp before fervently reciprocating the kiss. His lips were warm, soft. Of course he had to mock you with having the perfect pillowy lips at a moment's notice. Eddie had opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, but had not yet made any intrusion into your own, just enjoying the moment wholly before he could over-extend his actions. You on the other hand had wanted him to push the boundaries; wanted him to explore your mouth, leaving no corner unsearched. Deciding to test the waters you jabbed your tongue into the tip of his, earning yourself a raspy moan, the vibrations making you exert your own breathy whine.

As your tongues danced with one another in perfect cadence, Eddie’s hand that had previously found home on your breast had now slid its way to snake around your waist. Giving it a slight squeeze, he wraps his arm around you to satisfy his only mission of pulling you flush against his body. As your chest collided with his own, noting to yourself that he hadn’t even bothered changing out of his Slayer shirt and sweats from last night's gathering, a deep guttural groan erupted from his chest. You broke the kiss to meet his eyes, swooning at the closer proximity between the two of you.

“You okay there handsome?” you tease, trying to egg on his newfound confidence. It had seemed to work as he mumbled back to you,

“I’ve just always wanted to know how it felt to have the most perfect tits pressed against me,” he rasps out, “so thank you, Sweets”

Rolling your eyes at his dramatic antics, you playfully retort, “God Eds you make yourself sound like such a virgin.” Feeling brave, you decide to hook your thigh over his hips in order to further reduce any remaining space between you. And that’s when you feel it. You feel just how much of an effect your boobs had had on your best friend. You feel just how much Eddie had needed this too. How he yearned for it… ached for it.

He hissed quietly at the contact, one corner of his now swollen lips turning up slightly. With a bit more courage of his own he goaded to you, “If you want me to stop sounding like a virgin so much… then why don’t you change that?”

Plunging straight back into an impassioned kiss, you shift slightly to be able to wrap both arms around his neck, pulling his face impossibly closer as though any slight distance would rip him away from you. With his arm still tucked snug around the expanse of your back, he swiftly rolls onto his back and takes you with him, leaving you laying on top of his frame. Your hips had already unconsciously decided to grind against his crotch, the friction proving to be delicious for the both of you. You lost yourself in the kiss, delving deeper and deeper as though you sought to drown. Alas, you had to force your mind to swim back to the surface, breaking the kiss to ascertain clarity of the situation.

“Eddie, are you sure about this? Is this really what you want to do?” you question. Ending this now would be a devastating outcome. But it would be necessary if there was a possibility that he was unsure, in order to salvage your friendship, if that’s what this still was. He sits up abruptly and shuffles slightly up on the bed to lean across the headboard, taking your body with his as though that was what they were designed to do.

“You're kidding right?” he deadpans, “Fuck yeah, this is what I wanna do! Can’t you feel how insane you’re making me?” You chuckle at that and nod, giving your hips a mischievous wiggle, producing a short exhale from him. He continues, “There is no one else that I could even consider sharing this moment with. Me. You. This… it just makes sense.”

He’s staring straight into your eyes now. The deep brown orbs unravel the very last of your previous reservations. And he maintains his eye contact as he removes his arms from your waist to pry his shirt from his skin that had collected a slight sheen from the anticipation. You didn’t see where his shirt went and neither did he, both of you lost in each other's gaze. Your own hands reach down to find the hem of his sweats, hooking your fingers at his hips and tugging them down along with his boxers until they sit just behind you, collected around his mid thighs.

Breaking the stare, you peer downwards in an attempt to see what you’d be dealing with. You were impressed to say the least. Sure, it wasn’t gonna win any awards, but it was definitely the biggest out of what you’d dealt with before. Enough to make your walls clench around empty space. Enough to make your mouth salivate. Sitting pretty against his abdomen, encased in a thatch of curls. You could see that it was waiting for your next move, twitching at the anticipation.

Quickly glancing up to his face and seeing his confident persona falter slightly, you leaned up to press a chaste kiss to his lips before lowering yourself over the shaft, rocking your hips slowly to create a delectable friction. Eddie was quick to whine out at the feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing salaciously against his bare cock. With your forehead pressed to his, you quickly found your rhythm, each rock of your hips making you pant and whimper at the feeling of him rock hard against your swollen clit.

His hands suddenly shoot to your hips to halt your movements before pleading out, “Please, sweetheart. I can’t take all of this… need to be inside of you, please” The final plea was pathetic, sounding truly fucked out before anything had really begun. Normally you’d be inclined to tease and torture him some more, to use him for your own pleasure. But this was Eddie. Your Eddie. And so it was only right for you to heed his request on demand.

“Do you have a condom?” you inquire, raising your brows slightly to ephasise the urgency.

“Yeah, uhhh shit hang on,” he reaches to his far right to impatiently yank his top drawer open and fiddled with the unopened box before pulling one out and grinning as though he’d just struck gold. Taking the foil from him, you’re brisk in tearing it open and pinching the tip before wrapping a hand around his shaft to begin rolling it down. He whimpers and hisses at the minimal contact, earning an inquisitive look from you.

“What?! It feels good,” he exasperates, “You’re literally touching my dick”

With a light snort you quip, “God baby, you really have no idea…” You admire the way the pet name brings heat to his cheeks, dusting them pink. Lifting yourself gently with your knees, you use your free hand to swipe your panties to the side whilst lining him up with your other hand still grasped around him. Alerted by a quivering exhale from below you, you pause right on the precipice to smile at the beautiful man.

“Hey… it’s just me,” you mirror from earlier, hoping the phrase could provide him with some comfort, “okay? It’s just us” you finish. Waiting for his curt nod as an acceptance, you slowly lower yourself onto him, the stretch immediately welcomed by your fluttering walls. You had let out an elongated hum the further you sank down, whilst Eddie sang a string of curses at the brand new sensations.

Once you had bottomed out you left little time to adjust for the both of you, your need becoming all-encompassing. You’re quick to lift yourself again, stopping to drop back down sharply once almost at the tip.

“Oh my… fuck. Shit, okay” Eddie had become the shell of a man, losing himself completely in the feeling. With a steady pace, not too slow to cause frustration but not too quick to overwhelm him, you begin to bounce. Eddie’s half-lidded eyes were level with your tits, lazily watching them jolt with your movements, his jaw slack. All that could be heard was the slap of your breasts against your chest as well as your arse on Eddie’s hips, and his pitiful moans.

“Ahh, shit I won’t last sweets,” he mutters out, his words slurred in his pussydrunk state.

You slam your hips into his as hard as you could, relishing in the strangled cry of the broken man before you, before once again grinding your hips to meet that delicious friction of your clit against his thick patch of hair. The sensations cause your walls to flutter and grip his cock sporadically, in turn making Eddie whine with each breath he takes.

With this new motion, along with the pathetic display below you, your high was fast approaching. You opted for a combo of grinding your hips together whilst also lifting slightly for Eddie to feel the insatiable drag through your erratically clenching pussy. Feeling his hips begin to thrash up to desperately chase his high, you feel your own suddenly crash through your entire body. The rhythmic pulsing sends Eddie over the edge with you, gripping your hips like a vice as he yells out his strained groans, his voice significantly dropping a few octaves.

With your body going limp against his, you’re only able to muster up enough movement to press an ardent kiss to his jaw before tucking your face into his neck, his curls sticking to your face. Feeling a peck placed on your crown, you’re able to shift your head back slightly so that you’re still leaning on his shoulder, but this time able to gaze at his face. His own face meets yours in the middle. The two of you stay like that for a while, taking in the details of each other’s faces. Eddie is the one who breaks the silence,

“Sooooooo… your tits are nice,” he grins cheekily as his eyebrows wiggle at you. Your eyes immediately widen as you gather the strength to swat at his other shoulder tiredly, but still giggle along at his behaviour,

“Eddie Munson, you really are insufferable”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #joe quinn

1K notes · View notes

shirefantasies · 13 days

Text

The Hobbit Characters' Favorite Body Part of Yours

Another one I did for LoTR a while back but not The Hobbit so here we go 😌 warning: slightly suggestive at times, one minor swear

Balin

Upon first asking, you might not know, may not even so much as consider your love as having a favorite. Greater thought yields memory, however, a realization. Balin has a soft spot for your forehead- loves pressing kisses there, quick bursts of reassurance when you are under stress or sick. Moments of affection for all to see, pure, loving, gentle. That would also explain his habit of playfully butting his forehead to yours or the way he keeps you connected before and after longer kisses.

Dwalin

It’s no secret how much Dwalin adores your legs- his eyes are ever upon you as you throw them over a saddle, bare them to wade, rest them atop his lap and give him a pretty smile when he strokes them. Straddling him is a quick way to catch his attention and earn a smile to boot, your dwarf’s hands going immediately to rub circles on your hips and his eyes completely caught up in you. Whispers of all kinds of affections make their way between you as Dwalin savors the moment, pressing your bodies as close as he can get them.

Thorin

An anchor can always be found simply by looking into your eyes. A fount of trust and care, one look can take Thorin miles in calm and reassurance, especially when it feels like all is against him. Your eyes speak volumes even if your expression is kept in steel, aiding Thorin in his quest to fulfil all your desires. Memorizing every change in your eyes is his greatest goal, forging a connection so strong you needn't any words to convey it. You look to his, too, glancing at him in moments of amusement, derision, desire. All of them bonding you further and further, warming his heart to know he is the first you wish to see, just as you are the first thought in the king's own mind.

Oin

Your chest. Not so much for the stereotypical reasons, but simply because of the way it literally holds your heart. Your gentle rhythm, your very source of life and the warmth Oin seeks out again and again. He secretly loves resting his head there where he can listen to it, let it lull him to sleep. If you allow it the healer’s lips will find purchase there, peppering their love over your heart and along your beautiful collarbones in appreciation of the wonderful life you are.

Gloin

His hands run over or comb through your hair about as often as they can; no matter the length of it, no matter the texture or the way you wear it you will have a guardian of your hair in Gloin. He makes no secret how proud he is of the honor he’s received to be the only one that can touch it. And alright, yes, perhaps he likes to show it off, too! If it is long enough, he braids your hair as soon as you consent to it, and he’ll bother his brother again and again for anything that helps care for it. Even the most elaborate of styles and routines will become second nature to him- soon you will not even be lifting a finger. The others say he’s spoiling you, to which he says “Damn right!”

Bifur

Your hands hold a special place in Bifur's heart; they symbolize your willingness to learn, the opening of your heart to someone so many closed off to, and who closed off to them in turn. The little gestures you made chipping away at his heart and bolstering his faith. You seek his attention, wave them to show him little wonders just as he does. They form words and phrases, sometimes even capturing thoughts you wish to share with no one but him. Even when static, they can communicate much- how tightly you hold onto his, the way they rest against his chest right above his heartbeat, trace his cheek to initiate a kiss he never thought he'd earn.

Bofur

Can’t resist your lips. They’re like the sweetest of candies, the greatest prize he gets to claim and him alone. Bofur never takes for granted his luck, practically worshipping your lips as he takes his sweet time with them. And who else does he have to thank for your gorgeous smile, the blessing of sunshine it brings to the world? His mission in life is to keep that smile sticking around as much as possible. And if it’s against his own smile, why he won’t complain in the slightest, simply surrendering to the wash of euphoria and thanking his lucky stars.

Bombur

Your cheeks, of course! Irresistibly adorable, Bombur loves to see the curve of them as you smile, any flush that might be visible, especially if you are feeling shy. Of course he loves to kiss them, holding you steady and peppering them with sweet love at any opportunity. Even before longer, more passionate kisses he will make his way along your cheeks first. Bombur wants to be the only one to wipe your beautiful face of any tears that may befall it, his touch so gentle as he comforts you, swiping his thumb over your cheek before you're in his arms completely, enveloped in each other's lovely warmth.

Dori

Dori loves your eyes; he often describes how when you first met, he could see your heart straight through them. Windows to the soul, subtle tells of emotion and love and things otherwise unseen, he loves to gaze into them as long as you let him. There is a kindness, a sympathy to them that grounds Dori, gives him faith when his has left him, brings calm. He loves also the way they darken, the burns of passion, flames of battle, or even looks of beckoning desire flaring up from deeper within. Such is part of why he so enjoys nights where you lay facing one another, tracing every shift in those very windows, the access one can gain from study.

Nori

Obsessed with your hips. Loves gripping them to pull you against his chest, especially if they have plenty of soft flesh to dig his fingers into. Sneaks up behind you to wrap his hands around them and press kisses to your neck. Having a hand wrapped protectively around your hip or reaching into your pocket are moments of clear intimacy, a way for Nori to show off that you're his and he's yours, no one else's. The feeling of your hips against his is pure bliss, so tug him in upon the beltloops of his trousers to give him a grin nothing will wipe off!

Ori

Your entire face is his favorite, the ever-changing expressions and of course your smile. He can try to capture each and every variation, but that would take an age. As long as he wishes he could have with you. Your smile is like pure sunshine to him, your every furrow and twitch a treasure trove of information he hopes to be able to read like a book to be at your side with what you need in an instant. Your face projects your heart and soul in the most encapsulating, beautiful way, and the very sight of it never fails to bring Ori a rush of emotion.

Fili

He favors your thighs, loves the sturdy form of them and the soft skin of he can dig his hands into. Revels ever in the sensation of your legs tangling with his every time you sit together and he holds you on his lap, gesture of lifting you up onto him punctuated with a squeeze or two or three. Your shared moments of leisure are nothing short of treasure, the way you face him and peer into his eyes, one arms slung around your waist and the other hand tracing patterns on your thigh, falling into your warmth and softness like a trap he never wants to escape.

Kili

Shows a lot of love to your shoulders. He has his habit of kissing all the way up to your arm, but you also notice it when he playfully comes up behind you and lifts you off your feet, burying his head between your neck and shoulders. If your hair is long, sweeping it off your shoulder to replace it with his cheek or lips is so utterly romantic in Kili's mind. Same goes for baring them, sliding your top down or playfully unbuttoning it for access. And what better way to help you relax after a strenuous day than a massage, running his hands gently over your shoulders and kneading tension from your neck and back?

Bilbo

There's just something about your nose- the shape of it, the little ways it twitches and gives away the smallest expressions. Wrinkling in displeasure often shared with Bilbo himself and bringing moments of laughter amidst everything. A look shared between you two, after all, speaks volumes and strengthens your bond all at once, bringing a smile to Bilbo's face that he has one he can read so well. In your more affectionate moments the hobbit loves to pull you close, placing a kiss upon your adorable nose before moving down to peck your lips again and again, his own curving upward in contentment at your proximity.

Lindir

Your hands. True works of art and their creators all in one. Purveyors of your passion, be they plucking instruments, spreading paint across a canvas, delicately turning pages upon discoveries… Lindir could watch them work forever. Not to mention the shivers that run down his spine when they fall upon him, the sparks when those very same hands that bring forth beauty and command passion caress his face, bringing him eagerly to your delicious lips. Much as he enjoys their actions in freedom, sometimes he desires to keep them for himself, holding their warmth in his, intertwining your beautiful fingers and kissing the back of your hand to display the very connection of your souls.

Thranduil

Your neck, oh that gorgeous expanse, is the subject of much attention by Thranduil. Trailing kisses up its entirety before claiming your lips, even letting his teeth sink in ever so slightly. The woodland king's favorite method of distracting you while you work is to sneak his way behind you, hands reaching to your waist, head tilting, lips upon your neck. You can practically feel them smirk against you at the way you automatically tilt your own head to grant him access. Thranduil wants all to see that you belong to him, not as a possession, but as a promise he works to honor in all facets; thus, he indulges his love of adorning you with the most extravagant jewels he can find, standing you against his chest as he drapes his gift over your neck. For who but the king could provide such things? Tracing his hand over the jewels, he kisses your collarbones before his lips seek their favorite home.

Bard

There is something so alluring about your back- the way it is bared only for him, the tensing and shifting of muscles beneath flesh and the wonderful soft bits he can hold onto. Unable to resist running his hands up and down your spine when he holds and kisses you, Bard gets double the pleasure feeling the shivers he sends running down your skin. Plus such an area is a much more discreet place for love bites he may leave when he holds you from behind, placing kissed along your shoulders and neck.

Beorn

Beorn admires your arms. The strength they carry, the ripple of muscle with their every motion. Beyond the practical, he appreciates also the softer moments, the times you both surrender to vulnerability, arms wrapping tenderly around each other and your head falling against him gently. Trust for so long was a rarity, and yet her he is giving it, surrendering to your arms. In pauses from work Beorn often strides over to stand at your back, his hands rubbing your shoulders and trailing down your arms as he beckons you to come rest. Your eagerness brings rare smiles to his face and the way you flex your muscles even gets a laugh out of him.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

156 notes · View notes

shall-we-die · 8 months

Note

Hey!

can I have B for lucifer?

╔‌‌‌‌═══════════════•⊰•°༄༚

{Body Part}

☰[Main list]•⊰ Obey me!

Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's?

╚═══════════════•⊰•°༄༚‌‌‌

• Lucifer is a bit of a narcissist, and he enjoys looking at himself in the mirror. He likes everything about his body, but if he had to pick a favorite body part, it would be his broad shoulders and strong arms. He likes to flex them and show off for MC. He's also very proud of his strong, muscled body and his handsome angelic face. He loves showing off both of them to MC.

• As for MC, Lucifer absolutely adores their soft, smooth skin and their beautiful, bright hair. He loves running his hands through it, caressing it, and kissing it. Lucifer also loves MC's beautiful, sparkling eyes and their sweet, soft lips. he the curves of their body. Lucifer is also a sucker for their beautiful smile. He loves when MC gives him that flirty little smirk and when their eyes glint with mischief.

• Lucifer loves to see the lust in MC's eyes when they lay eyes on Lucifer's body. He enjoys being desired and appreciated for his looks. Sometimes, he'll even be a bit of a tease when he sees MC is particularly hungry for him.

• {"You like what you see, don't you? Hmm, maybe I should give you a little closer look." / "Come here and show me how much you want me. Let me feel how much you crave me." / "I bet you wish you could have a taste, don't you?"}

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

Lucifer enjoys being in control during intimate time with you, and usually takes on the more dominant role. He likes to take the lead, guiding you and showing you exactly how to please him. "Hmmm... yes, yes exactly like that. You're such a good huma—!"

Lucifer is a very passionate and energetic person in love. He enjoys being intimate with you underneath him, seeing how helpless you are. He grabbed your hair and pushed himself deeper into your mouth as he forced you to suck him off. "Ugh—!"

It's no secret that Lucifer is a dom in bedroom. He enjoys taking control and leading the way during intimacy. "Swallow it all, otherwise you'll be punished." he said that, grunting and pulls your hair harder, making you gagg, unable to breathe.

Lucifer's feelings were running high and he was close to the edge, pulling on your hair is a sure-fire way to get him there. "—!" He came.

He held your head firmly in place as he was taking deep, rapid breaths to calm himself down. His seed was too much for you to swallow all of it on the spot, so very quickly some of it spilled out of your mouth and down your chin. "Tch..."

He pulled himself out of your mouth, bending down to watch you trying to catch your breath. He held your chin with one hand and lifted your head up and looked into your teary eyes. "Oh, look what you did...didn't I say swallow it all? Look how dirty you made the carpet in my room... How should I punish you now?"

"Lucifer..." you hopelessly called his name. "Hmmm?... what? What you really want?"

He grabbed your arm and pulled you up a little so you were on your knees. He gently caressed your lips with his other hand. "...please."

"Please what?" He chuckled, before you could say anything, he slid two fingers into your mouth. "ugh—!" After you suck on his fingers, he pulls them out. "You cannot escape your punishment, dear." He whispered into your ear and quickly slid his saliva coated fingers into your wet hole.

"Look how wet you are... but you can't cum right now, you don't deserve it."

You were in a painful position, he thrust his fingers into you painfully slowly and you couldn't help but moan. You couldn't stay in that position anymore so he let go of your arm and grabbed your waist. As you leaned back and moaned, he moved his head closer to your neck and bit you several times.

"Aaah... Lucifer... please... I beg you..." Yes, he was slowly moving his fingers, looking at you with his evil eyes, but you were at your limits, so you were moaning louder than ever, and after a shiver ran through you, your cum made his palm wet...

He laughed, "hahaha! You seem to be enjoying this situation too much, do you want me to be rougher with you?" He stared into your eyes, slowly pulling his fingers out of you, tasting it after showing you his hand. "I can't help it, you're so attractive, the slightest movement sends shivers down my spine..."

"..."

"you're going to regret it."

And that was the last thing he said before pushing you to the carpet. You laid down on the soft white carpet in front of the fireplace and he quickly grabbed under your knees and pushed your legs up, and pinned them to the carpet. You had a long night ahead of you, and don't forget that it's always night in the Devildom.

||[🄱ody Part]||

━●━━━━━━────────

⇆ㅤㅤ◁🄰ㅤㅤ❚❚ㅤㅤ🄲▷ㅤㅤ↻

#𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆–[💋]#𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜–[🍬]#𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜–[📩]#obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me smut #obey me luci x reader #obey me lucifer smut #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs

393 notes · View notes

astarionapologist · 3 months

Text

Flames of forbidden desire(Karlach x fem!Reader)

Prompt: Very horny dom!Karlach x a kinda flirty tav hehehe aftercare and fluff at the end! Also this was a request! Hope y’all enjoy.

Warnings: Smut, cursing, oral(receiving), ✂️ing *wink wonk*

A kind yet firm hand gripped your thigh, Karlach slowly pushed her tongue up your cunt slowly lapping up its sweet nectar. She groaned in satisfaction as she finally was able to taste you. To hold you. To absolutely ravish you both body and soul. You moaned as she continued to eat you out liked she was some starved animal.

She carefully sucked on your red puffy clint and inserted two of her long fingers inside your aching needy cunt.

“Fuck… you love that don’t you?” She hummed

“Mmmh~ Karlach please… I need more of you.” You whimpered out desperately grinding harder on her fingers.

“Who am I to deny you sweetheart~” she purrs against the soft skin of your thighs and she dives back in. She pushes her tongue down into your hole and flexes her wet muscle inside your throbbing cunt. You continue to fill her tent with whimpers and moans as she teases both your clint and the sweet spot inside you.

She lifts her head to look up at you, you see nothing but lust and adoration in her eyes.

“Damnit… Sweets… you can’t do this to me… fuckin hell I need more of you… I need all of you right now.”

“Then have me” you say

You already knew this would send her over the edge and lead to a more dominant Karlach… not like you minded though. In fact you quite liked how she’d pick you up and sit you on her lap as she’d whispered all her dirty little thoughts about you whenever you’d tease her too much in the past.

“Fuck it. Come here.” She practically demanded as she pulled you to her and placed you on your side.

Her strong arms open your legs with ease as she placed herself so that both of your lips were on top of each other.

You both groan as you feel each others hear and wetness radiating off your bodies.

“Fuckin hell sweets…. You’re so wet” she huffs out as she begins to move her hips on top of yours. She grabs one of your legs and grinds harder on your soaking needy pussy.

“Shit shit- I need more… please I’m so close Karlach…” you whimper out begging her to speed up.

“Shhhhh… I’ll give ya what you want sweets… don’t you worry” She picks up the pace and begins to apply pressure on the lower part of your belly.

You both rhythmically move your hope against each other, each thrust sending shocks of pleasure down your spine.

Her wetness mixing with yours was enough to drive you insane. Along with the small heartbeat of her throbbing clint against yours.

“Fuck- I’m gonna” You moan and huff out your ecstasy while Karlach chases her’s not too far behind you. Heavy breathing fills the room as you look down and see the mess you’ve both created, legs and cunts absolutely drenched in each other's cum.

With no hesitation Karlach goes to pick up a rag and gently cleans your body and then herself. She carefully pushes you to the side and removes the soaked towel from underneath you. She crawls into bed with you pulling you in closer by the waist and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ears with a calm and gentle hand.

“You were lovely today.. you know that right? Gods you’re perfect all the time love” She gushes with her cheeks tinted a darker shade of red.

You giggle “So were you~ I could hardly keep up”

“Shit I wasn’t to rough was I? Did I hurt you or anything?” Her eyes widened and her lips frowned slightly. You couldn't help yourself from laughing, she looked like a kicked puppy.

“W-what? Why are you laughing….” She pouts confused at your teasing.

“No reason~ but besides that, of course you didn’t hurt me. In fact quite the opposite~”

She lets out a small sigh and smiles. “I’m just glad you enjoyed it”

She pulls you into a tight warm hug, you feel her tail wrap around your thigh. “ I enjoyed it too… a lot even..”

“But I enjoyed holding you like this so much more…”

She rubs the back of your hips gently as she looks into your eyes and pulls you into a kiss

“Thank you for all this sweets… thank you for everything… I love you”

“I love you too” You whisper as you cuddle yourself more against her warm muscular body.

“Goodnight sweets…” she says as she drifts off to sleep.

HOPE THIS ISNT ASS AND YALL ENJOY IT!

also next up are a Astarion x M!reader and a spicy gale fic with some fluff! ALSO PLEASE SEND REQUEST I LOVE READING THEMMMMMM AHHH

270 notes · View notes

bradshawsbitch · 1 year

Text

son of a preacher man | rhett abbott x reader

disclaimer; this thot popped into my brain this morning as i listened to 'son of a preacher man' by dusty springfield, feel free to listen to it as you read. I myself am agnostic so if there's any inaccuracies-- *shrugs*. both characters are 20.

warnings; religious themes, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, female reader, afab!reader, corruption kink, innocence, dresses mentioned, attempt at masturbation, cunnilingus, mentions of sick parent, size kink(?)

summary; rhett abbott, the preacher's son, is the only one who had ever reached a part of you, a part of you you hardly knew yourself.

word count; 4K.

tagging people who might like; @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts @lt-bradshaw @roleycoleyreccenter

◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇

Spring had come suddenly that year, the meadows waking from their long sleepy absence and blooming slowly with white and pale lavender wildflowers. The sweet fragrance that emanated from the very earth you walked on was intoxicating to you, more than happy to spend long afternoons amongst the meadow wildlife if time allowed it.

More often than not though, there was no time. Your father had fallen ill the past year, and his health had steadily declined as the raw winter chill seeped through the old wood of your house. Mother had needed all the help she needed around the house, with the sweet lambs you had out back, shearing them and spinning yarn from their soft fur.

You’d often work tirelessly at knitting sweaters, little socks and mittens for the church charity, or to sell on market days to help sustain the farm and your fathers medication. Sometimes mother let you knit out on the meadows, but most of the time she wanted you near her.

The one day you steadfastly looked forward to was Sundays. Sundays when the kind Reverend Royal Abbott would make sure to visit your family after Sunday service to read for your mother and your father, as your fathers health no longer allowed him to attend sermons. It was not so much Father Abbotts blessings that brought you feelings of elation and butterflies, no, it was more so the blessing of his youngest son.

It was the one afternoon you were completely free from your mothers watchful eyes, and she always let you wander the meadows with the Abbott boy for as long as you needed - under the impression that the preacher’s son was offering you the lord's word as comfort for the situation that was impending. She always gave you a comforting and sympathetic smile as the younger Abbott took you for a walk through your back lawn, out towards the meadows, pastures and forests adjacent.

You and Rhett Abbott were the same age, and you’d always had such a soft spot for the cerulean eyed boy with longer hair and mischief twinkling in his smile and eyes. You knew his mother Cecelia often reprimanded him, and wished he was more like his older brother Perry who sported short, more respectable hair, and who had already married.

There was something enchanting about him, the way your body and soul always seemed so in tune with him - how when he entered the room, your very being would vibrate with the need to be close to him.

He was everything. Tall, broad, beautiful and kind. You were, according to yourself, rather plain. Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined he would desire you in any way, until you noticed how he always made a point to accompany his father to your house on Sunday afternoons. In the beginning, he would sit near you as you listened to his fathers preaching.

It was hard to concentrate on the words of the Reverend, when his son was running his strong hands softly across the thin fabric of your white, billowy Sunday dress. When he did it the first time, you’d turned to him in shock, only to be met with a sympathetic look as he opted to let his hand rest on your shoulder. It clicked in your mind then that he was offering you comfort. Taking in your surroundings, you saw your mother in tears at the preacher's words, and you bowed your head - only partly ashamed you’d been too busy taking in the scent and the close proximity of Rhett to fully understand Royal’s gruff voice.

His hand on your shoulder, warmth seeping through the thin and soft fabric of your dress made you inhale the softest of gasps. You wanted to melt into his touch and never leave, but you managed to sit up straight with your hands neatly folded in your lap that Sunday afternoon.

As they left that Sunday, Royal tipped his hat and bid your family farewell, as Rhett gripped your shoulder tightly again and spoke softly;

Everything will be alright.

You could tell Royal was proud of his son, thinking his wilder spouse had finally found the way of the Lord. Perhaps that’s why, as time went on, Rhett would make a point to speak verses of comfort to you when they visited. He kept touching your upper arm and shoulder, once venturing to rest his large palm just above your knee - but the surprised gasp you had let out had been so loud he’d had to pretend to swat away a fly as the elders turned to look at you.

Being good isn’t always easy, you tell yourself that night as you imagine Rhett’s firm touch all over your body, burning sensations flaring when you thought of his palm reaching higher up on your thigh. Your own daintier hand didn’t feel the same as you graced it up your inner thigh, your nightgown bunching around your hips as soft gasps spilled from parted lips, legs falling apart further and further as you thought of Rhett’s tall frame fitting in between them.

Hesitant touches made you writhe in your bed, breaths coming in short gasps, but never truly getting satisfied. No one had ever taught you about your own body, had never told you what sort of feeling you were yearning for when your body burned and ached like this.

A soft, longing, moan of the preacher’s son's name fell from your lips as you brushed against a spot that momentarily satiated the ache, but you lost it in your surprise that overtook you at what had tumbled from your mouth. That night you contemplated your actions, wondering if you were no longer a good girl in the eyes of the Lord. It surprised you that you felt little shame about your actions.

After a whole week of chores, knitting and tending to your little lambs, it was soon Sunday again. You’d opted to wear your Sunday dress again, as you would any Sunday, but you had to admit you spent a little more time with the rest of your appearance. As Father Abbott and his son approached your abode, your mother sang their praises to you, gushing over how kind they were to come to your house personally to make sure your poor father’s soul could be salvaged.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Royal grumbled, taking off his hat and bowing his head before he kept talking “today, my son was wondering if he might have the privilege to preach to your daughter - he has expressed concern for how she might be faring in these dire circumstances.”

Glancing up at your mother, you saw tears glistening in her eyes as she nodded “Of course, Father Abbott, we are so blessed to have you preaching to us who are a bit older - certainly, our daughter would be thankful to have a younger perspective upon her hardships,” she answered for you, and you could only bite your lip to keep your smile at bay.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Rhett spoke, before he revealed what passages he would cover with you today. “Could we perhaps be allowed on the meadow out back?” Rhett continued, eyes flitting between your mother and his father “I find that nature can instill peace along with the Lord’s words,” he elaborated and your mother nodded, tears now glittering on her cheeks.

“My little lamb does love spending her time on the meadow, does it offer you peace my dove?” Your mother doted on you, as if she now at once understood why you were out there. You could only nod mutely, not entirely believing your luck as the elders made room for Rhett to lead you through your back lawn, your arm tucked respectfully in his arm.

Those first times, Rhett did take you for a walk. He would talk in soft, soothing voices, once in a while adding some passages from verses. Mostly, the two of you would talk of other matters too, and getting to know Rhett was exhilarating. He told you of the times he’d snuck out to the rodeo, told you how his friend had snuck him onto a bull that had bucked him off. He told you of the thrill, of how he’d felt so alive.

You looked at him with starry eyes, and he looked at you with soft adoration in his eyes as he told you how he had always found you sweet. Had always looked out for you. Surprised, you gently argued that he had never talked to you much when you were in school together.

He told you he would often try to sit near you, would always try to land himself in projects with you, but that their teacher thought he was a little bit of a bad boy, preacher's son or not. A soft smile made its way onto your face as he confessed these sweet thoughts to you, bowing your head downwards out of habit.

Feeling his rough fingertips under your chin made your head spin as he tilted your face up so he could see you again “you’re so sweet… so beautiful, little lamb” he whispered, cerulean eyes taking in your parted lips and your slightly furrowed brows.

“Rhett,” his name was out of your mouth, breathy and pleading, before you knew it. His breath seemed to hitch, before he groaned your name, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead against yours - facial expression akin to fathers when he was in pain. It seemed as if his other hand was itching to pull you flush to his body, hovering in the air between you when the two of you heard Royal shouting Rhett’s name in the distance. Apparently the Sunday sermon was over.

“Rhett.” You all but whimpered, longing for his touch, for anything he would be willing to give you. The pained expression was back on his face as he looked down at you again, he gently cupped your face in between his large palms, letting his blue eyes devour your features before he spoke.

“Shh, little lamb, everything is alright. I’ll see you next Sunday, alright? I’ll try to see if I can come before that okay?” He whispered to you, and you nodded, watching as he smiled softly before letting his lips press a lingering kiss to your cheek before he straightened up and guided you back to your house.

Letting out a shaky breath, your mother appeared before you, letting you know which chores needed done before sundown. She took in your shaky state and asked if you were feeling alright.

“Preacher’s son had chosen some… very emotional verses today, I’m sorry mother.” The lie slipped almost too easily from your tongue, and your mother smiled sympathetically, offering you a small pat on your shoulder before she was off, singing praises about that preacher's son.

That week, Rhett appeared when you went to sell your knitted goods at the market, and he had taken his brother's place when you brought the pieces for the charity for the church. When he caught sight of you, those beautiful blues of his would look fiery and alive. His touches would linger, his words like sweet honey as he praised your handiwork. As he collected items for the charity, you decided to stay and help him for a while.

Soon enough, it was time to close the church doors, and it seemed as if Rhett could wait no longer. As the doors hid the two of you from the world, he whispered your name in desperation, cradling your face and neck in his large hands, tilting your head up.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, and a soft, needy noise escaped you at his close proximity, at his words and the way he held you so delicately between his hands.

“Please, Rhett,” you breathed out, daring to let trembling fingers clutch at his white button-up, hesitantly pulling him to you. “Oh, my sweet little dove,” he groaned before his lips came down on yours in a slow kiss, his lips moving against yours in a way that made you dizzy. His warm, wet tongue venturing into your willing mouth, slowly caressing your tongue, swallowing your soft gasps.

You had never been kissed like this before - it was intoxicating, and sent heat coursing through your very veins, down to your core. Rhett’s hand had slipped into your hair at some point and the sensation of his strong hold on you had a foreign sound leaving you, a sound you only made on those nights when you had tried in vain to replicate the fire coursing through you now.

The sound of a heavy door slamming, had Rhett pulling away, smiling down at you as he stole one last quick kiss before promising he’d see you that Sunday.

As Sunday came, you felt daring in opting for the white dress that was almost sheer in its thin fabric. It was usually paired with a white bra and top, and sometimes a cardigan. Today, you had foregone both bra and top, covering yourself with your usual cardigan to not raise suspicion with your mother.

To your great surprise, there was a knock on the door before noon, long before the sermon in church was over. Your mother opened the door to see Rhett, holding a bible in one hand and a soothing smile on his face as he explained he had picked out a lengthier passage today, and that his father would come by later. Your mother looked elated as she called for you, ushering you out the door with the preacher’s son.

As you caught sight of Rhett, that familiar ache burned within you, his very innocent touch on your elbow enough to have you leaning closer to him.

Today he led you further away, down the far end of the flowery meadow, where a couple of trees shielded the spot from direct view.

“Rhett-” you had barely finished his name when his lips crashed down on yours in a frantic kiss, his hands squeezing at your waist. “I’m sorry, little lamb. I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you,” he chuckled, gracing your cheek with the back of his hand. You smiled sweetly at him, leaning into his broad chest, letting yourself tuck your face into his warm neck as he held you.

“Rhett,” you tried again, biting your bottom lip as you wondered if this confession would have him fleeing “you… always make me feel funny inside,” you spoke hesitantly, feeling foolish for telling him.

“Can you tell me how I make you feel, honey?” His voice was dark, and his grip on you had tightened slightly, his one hand guiding your chin from out of its hiding place.

Licking your lips you looked into his stormy eyes “like my whole body is on fire… like, like I ache for you,” you furrowed your brows “I tried once, tried to… soothe it, but I- I didn’t know how, and it felt—“ you trailed off, embarrassed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Rhett groaned, “you have no idea what you do to me, do you? Sweet little thing,” he murmured against your neck, where he started licking and kissing.

“I feel it now,” you confessed with a whine, and Rhett chuckled against your skin. “Mm, have I made you ache, little lamb?” He rumbled and you nodded “where does it ache, sweets?” He continued, his hands caressing your arms slowly.

Licking your lips, you detached yourself from the warm comfort of Rhett’s embrace, slowly removing your cardigan to reveal your all but bare breasts through the sheer fabric of your dress. Not entirely knowing why, or how, your hands slowly inched up the length of your body, keeping eye contact with Rhett as your dainty hands palmed at your breasts, a soft moan escaping you.

“It aches here, Rhett,” you mewled, letting one hand run down the length of your stomach as you whispered “and here, too,”

The growl that left the preacher's son was near animalistic, and his eyes burned with desire as you hitched your white dress up your thigh.

“Teach me” you breathed out as your eyes fluttered closed, and Rhett’s tall frame embraced you, holding you against his hard form. His lips were all over you, kissing you, loving you. His larger palms soon replaced your smaller ones, massaging and palming at your breasts - his nimble fingers teasing your nipples in a way that had you crying out in the pleasure that coursed through you. You knew only he could soothe the ache, you’d known it must be so.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet girl,” Rhett groaned against you, mouthing at your exposed collarbones before he let his lips latch onto your hardened nipple over the fabric of your breast, suckling, licking and nipping softly at it, only making you louder, mewling and crying out his name.

“Fuck, baby,” he spoke gruffly before he held you in his arms and guided you down on the flowerbed. “Don’t know if I want to teach you how to soothe the ache, baby,” he confessed as he continued to let his tongue wet the fabric of your dress. “Want to be the only one who can make you feel like this, the only one you give yourself to,” he moaned, switching to the other nipple and massaging the other in his hand.

His moans were getting whinier as your hands found his long locks, his suckling becoming more fervent, his hips grinding into your soft thigh.

“I’ll teach you next time, sweet lamb,” he grunted, pushing your dress up to rest by your waist, your glistening bare cunt a stark contrast against the flowers that budded around your body. Rhett moaned again at the sight, letting his two fingers slowly glide between your slick lips, taking in the soft moans you let out for him.

“Fuck I need to taste you,” he moaned, letting his shoulders rest between your thighs, groaning at how easily you spread yourself out for him. “So good for me, such a good girl,” he hummed, and the words sent fire coursing through your veins as you leaned on your elbows to look down at him. At the stroke of his tongue against your heat, your head fell back, a loud cry ripping from your throat.

“Rhett, oh my god!” You gasped, feeling his tongue swirl around parts of yourself you didn’t know could feel that good. As his wet muscle circled your entrance, you keened softly, canting your hips instinctively to get more. More of him.

“Chasing my mouth now, hm, sweet lamb?” He hummed, chuckling darkly as he licked a broad stripe up your cunt “Want to ride my face, don’t you, filthy girl?” His eyes burned into yours and at his words you couldn’t help the obscene moan you let out. Your body was on fire, your thoughts were starting to turn hazy as Rhett’s tongue brought your first orgasm crashing over your body.

“Fuck, you look like an angel,” Rhett groaned as he took in the sight of your slick coating your inner thighs, your pussy glistening in the sunlight, chest heaving and breasts fully visible as the wet fabric clung to them - nipples hard at the chill of the wind.

A whimper left you as he did, his body not touching you momentarily to rid himself of his clothes. “Rhett” you whined, and instantly he was on you again, kissing you, your slick shining on his chin as you tasted your essence on him.

“I need you,” you gasped, feeling something hard and hot between your legs. Looking down you saw that Rhett’s cock was achingly hard, his thick head red and leaking. You didn’t think you’d ever seen anything more beautiful. A pitiful mewl left you, your hand grasping at the hair at his neck to force his mouth down on yours again, as Rhett started guiding his cock between your lips, circling your clit before catching slightly on your hole and repeating the motion.

“You need me to take care of you, sweetheart?” Rhett’s voice was strained, filled with lust and need. You nodded weakly “Please, Rhett,” you gasped, the sensations he brought you wholly heavenly to you.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered, caressing your cheek as you keened at his praise, his swollen head now sinking into your wet heat. “Oh” you gasped, whining at the stretch of his cock entering you.

“Doing so well, little lamb - taking my cock so well for me,” he soothed, leaving an open mouthed kiss on your lips as his forehead rested against yours. “It hurts… you’re so big,” you cried, and he was instantly soothing you with kisses, stilling with only half of his cock entered into you.

“Want me to stop, honey?” He murmured as he kissed at your neck. “No, please,” you murmured back, humming in pleasure as he dragged the front of your dress down to latch his lips onto your bare nipple, suckling and kissing at it, making you moan in pleasure as he pressed further into you.

“Rhett, Rhett-“ you babbled, soft cries leaving you as his hips finally became flush with yours. Tears were clinging on to your lashes, and Rhett softly soothed you, kissing at your cheeks and praising you.

“You’re so tight, feel so good wrapped around my cock… you were made to take me, baby, made just for me,” he moaned as he thrust slowly into you, the drag of his cock inside you enough to have your breath speeding up, wrapping your legs around Rhett’s hips to push him deeper.

You didn’t understand why Rhett let out the longest and loudest moan so far at that, but you wouldn’t complain. His skilled hands were soothing aches all over your body, one landing on your lower abdomen as his shallow thrusts made you feel like you were floating on the clouds.

Reaching for you, he pressed down where he could feel the head of his cock “you’re so full of me right now, darlin’” his voice was husky “can you feel me?” He continued and you could only nod as you mewled softly.

“I love being full of you,” you confessed, soft whines and whimpers leaving you as Rhett brought you closer and closer to heaven. “Want you in me always, never want you to leave” you mewled, gripping at his biceps as his pace picked up.

Rhett groaned at those words, soft curse words leaving his lips as he fucked into your wet core. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, sweetheart, have me drippin’ out of your cunt all day,” he grunted, leaving a sloppy kiss on your lips as he hiked your thigh higher up on his hip. His name almost slipped past your lips in a needy moan again, but you almost felt like you wanted to call him more. Something forbidden.

“R-Rhett” his name still stuttered on your lips, and he was smirking down at you, as if he knew you were a bad girl with impure thoughts. Perhaps you’d always been bad. As his fingers toyed with a spot above where you were connected, you ascended to the heavens with the help of him. His name along with unknown phrases coming out in quick succession as you felt warmth fill you as Rhett’s hips stuttered and he cried out your name in a strangled gasp.

Still inside you, Rhett let his body come down on yours, resting his head between your exposed breasts, mouthing at them softly. His hands caressed your sides lovingly as he told you he was yours now. And you were his. You’d given yourself to him, and you didn’t mind. You never wanted to leave this meadow - never wanted Rhett to leave you.

As the sun warmed your bodies, and you’d placed countless kisses to his bare shoulders, Rhett helped you dress, smiling at his slick already painting your inner thighs. Pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, he asked you;

“Can you get away again tonight?”

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott smut #preacher!rhett #smut #my writing

633 notes · View notes

emeritusemeritus · 5 months

Text

Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley Twins x Reader]

(GIF not mine)

Part 14: Finale

Masterlist

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship}

Timeline: DH1&2- Initially set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. On it got a angsty. So much angst I can’t tag it all. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

And here is the final part of Vulnera Sanentur! Thank you so much to everyone who has read, commented, liked and reblogged my work, it has been a complete labour of love and I can’t thank you enough for your feedback 🖤

When you wake up later that morning, the mild May sun is pouring in through the windows, the curtains not fulling closed last night. You're pleasantly warm and comfortable, noting that you're in your own bed between the two warm bodies you adored. You smile to yourself, feeling relaxed and rested, the first time in so long. You take a moment to look at the twins, their sleeping faces and forms and take a long look, feeling explicitly happy and grateful that this was your reality, that you'd made it back and that everyone was safe. You ran your hand over George's chest where you were resting, feeling the soft material of his T-shirt over the hard, tones plains of his chest and smiled to yourself, taking pleasure in even the soft snores he emitted in his sleep. You turned slightly on your tummy and looked at Fred who slept much more quietly than his twin but still with his mouth open just a little. They both looked so peaceful that it was almost sad to wake them but for the first time in so, so long, you woke up with a need, an ache that only they could get rid of.

You tried to silence any negative thoughts in your mind, your unpleasant thoughts that they wouldn't want you, wouldn't desire you anymore and tried to be brave, realising that you wouldn't know unless you tried.

You pushed the covers down, first from George and then Fred, running your hand over Fred's chest and across his tummy. You heard him take a deep breath in his sleep from the delicate disruption and smirked to yourself, hoping to wake him slowly but indirectly. You noticed very quickly that he was much more 'excited' than his twin, a faint bulge already beginning to show in his pyjama pants and you bit your lip to stifle the excitement you felt.

You shifted just a little so that you were closer to him now and began pressing gentle kisses to his neck, the hand you weren't using to balance yourself running across his neck and shoulders until he was squirming under your touch, beginning to be pulled from sleep.

"Mm, princess?"

You didn't reply but instead sucked harder on his neck, tongue licking at the area you were focused on and you heard him gasp, hands immediately reaching out for you. You felt powerful, motivated, like your arousal was consuming you entirely, pushing away logical thinking as your hand slipped lower and lower until you were cupping his erection through his pyjamas.

He groans quietly at the sensation, bringing one of his hand up to bite on his fist, trying to stay quiet. It seemed that the lack of sex and intimacy had affected him just as much as you and every little touch was igniting a strong sensation in him.

His other hand wandered down your body until he was grabbing a handful of your bum through your own sleep clothes, his grip hard as he grabs a handful and shakes your bum, slapping at the same spot as your lips begin kissing at his clothed erection.

"Can I?" You ask, looking up into his eyes, seeing them watching your every move.

"Please princess," he replies, lifting his hips slightly as if he's chasing your touch. You smirk and begin to pull down his pyjama pants until his erection springs free, beautiful, glorious sight that you had kissed very much.

You shift your weight and rest on the side near Fred so that your hands can begin wandering down George's body now, hoping he'd wake up soon with the same intent that Fred had. He begins to stir as your hand strokes over his groin, a bulge forming that rivals his brothers as you lean down to take Fred's cock into your mouth.

His loud groan is enough to alert George to what's happening and you begin to sense the other twin waking as you slowly suck his brother, wetting his cock with your mouth as you sink lower and lower. You slowly bob up and down, taking your time and using your tongue to memorise every vein and bump on his gorgeous cock as you tease him. You feel a hand on the back of your head and look up, seeing George looking down at you with intense, aroused eyes. You paw at his pants, wanting him bare and he immediately raises his hips, freeing his own erection so that you were faced with the most delicious choice.

You pulled yourself up onto your knees, bum high up in the air so that you could free both of your hands to take each brothers' cock into your hands, slowly beginning to pump them. Both of them emitted a perfectly synchronised groan as your hand grazed them, tugging gently and squeezing in all the right places, just how they liked it. You leant down and took Fred into your mouth again with a fresh intensity, licking all around his delicious tip and hollowing your cheeks to give him the perfect amount of suction. You then pulled off and switched it up, taking George into your mouth and giving him the same treatment, delighting in the glorious gasps and mins that escaped from their mouths.

Your hand never stopped working over each of them, reaching down to gently caress their balls and very gently squeezing their base as you sucked, giving them even more pleasure.

"Angel, want to feel you, please can I," George pants as you pull off his cock and back to his brothers, taking a moment to catch your breath in between.

"Please, please," you reply desperately, needing to feel them, your core aching with unresolved arousal.

You pull away to throw off your pyjama bottoms, not caring one bit where they landed. Fred leaned forward to grab the bottom of your T-shirt and silently questioned you with one look, checking that it was okay. You sat straighter up on the bed and peeled off your T-shirt, completing baring yourself to their eyes. Fred's mouth opened in a little 'o' as he looked at your bare body, eyes fixed upon your breasts and George looked just as enamoured by the sight. You smirked gently and leaned back down, bending over and pushing Fred back onto the pillows so you could resume your sucking, desperate to feel the weight of them on your tongue.

George's hand crept over you as he shifted just enough to pull forward whilst you were occupied with taking Fred further and further down your throat. His hand reach out to caress your naked body, his big hand stroking over your hip and onto your bum before creeping ever closer to your waiting center.

His fingers slipped over your puffy, wet labia and you gasped into Fred's cock as you felt George's finger running down the crease of you, over you dripping hole and catching your throbbing clit with one single swipe. You took your mouth off of Fred and let out a loud moan, head flinging back as you get George's finger slip between your folds and push delicately into your hole, the feeling consuming you with blistering pleasure. You began pumping Fred again and took him back into your mouth, reaching out for George's cock too and his finger dipped in and out of you with teasing strokes. It was delicious agony and you couldn't wait for more, your hips beginning to wiggle as you silent pleaded for more. You hear him chuckle and immediately ku felt two of his long fingers prodding at your entrance.

"So tight," George says in wonder, "can't even get two fingers in you baby. S'been so long since you've been filled hasn't it," he coos as your hips rock, moans and whimpers tumbling from your lips stretched wide around Fred's throbbing cock, making him moan and grunt in reply.

"I need to taste her," Fred says, reaching for your jaw as he cradles it tenderly, his other hand shifting to cup your left breast, his thumb dragging across your pebbled nipple. "Take George's cock sweetheart, that mouth is so good."

He man handles you into position, slipping out from under you until he's kneeling behind you, your entire focus now on George and his deliciously curved cock. Your mouth waters and you can't help but place a few teasing kisses down his belly, following his little happy trails until your mouth is once again wrapped around his cock.

You let out an obscene moan as you feel Fred's tongue slipping over your folds without warning, the pointed end catching deliciously on your throbbing clit, his hands wrapping around your thighs. He starts slow, building up the intensity as he leaves no spot untouched, pulling your little Kabila into his mouth to suck on, kissing your outer, puffy lips and drinking down the wetness that seeps from your excited core. He groans into your pussy as more and more arousal drips out of you, his tongue not missing a single spot, leaving you a breathless mess. George's hands reach down to cup your breasts, pulling and flicking your nipples which only increases your pleasure.

Suddenly, Fred pulls away and you're reeling, chasing him with your hips, desperate for stimulation. He shifts on the bed and claims your pussy again, his big, angled nose now pressing against your clit as he laps up your arousal, tongue and then fingers poking into your hole as he feasts on you.

You can feel your climax building at an alarming speed and you pull off of deep throating George's cock to cry out that you want to be filled, want to cum with their cocks inside you.

"George," you hear Fred say as they both pull away. You don't see or hear their exchange but it's clear only moments later when George slips in behind you that Fred had offered for his twin to take you first.

Fred slips back infringe of you and immediately pulls you in for a passionate kiss, his hands wandering over your breasts and over your neck as he pulls you up just a little to rest your arms on his shoulders. His cock is pressed against your hip but he doesn't make a move for himself, choosing instead to keep kissing you.

You can feel George from behind, his impressive length lining up with your dripping pussy, his hand guiding his cock. You feel his hand at your hip as he breaches your little hole and you gasp at the intrusion, not having felt any penetration for months. His tip is bulbous and perfect, immediately stretching you out even with just the tip inserted.

"Angel, is that okay? Tell me if it hurts and I'll stop straight away, okay?" He breathes into your ear from behind and all you can do is nod, already needing more. When he pushes his hips forward and his cock sinks even further in, you let out an obscenely loud moan, pulling away from Fred's lips as your head falls back, the fullness consuming you.

"George don't stop, please I want more!"

He lets out a loud groan and pulls back before pushing forward again, this time much harder. You cry out again, clawing at Fred's shoulders as George begins to fuck you, his hand anchoring your hips to his as he fucks into you with abandon, no longer concerned.

Fred smirks into the kiss you can barely keep up with, George's cock hitting each and every pleasure point inside you as your breasts bounce in time with his thrusts. Fred immediately reaches out for your swaying breasts and begins massaging and flicking at them, reaching down with his face until he could bite and suck at your tender nipples, still supporting you with his wide shoulders.

He reaches down for his cock and you can't help but watch as he pulls his hips back just a little until he guides his tip just beneath your folds where you part, rubbing against your swollen clit with his tip. You moan louder and louder, over and over again as you're completely stimulated, his thick cock dragging against your clit to increase your pleasure. Your orgasm approaches you in no time and you feel yourself clenching on George as you race towards your finish, not one part of your body unattended as the twins fuck you perfectly.

"I'm gonna, oh George, oh!" You cry out, the white hot heat of your climax consuming you as you clench around George, hips moving on their own accord as you fuck your self back on his cock. He groans and cums with a shout, no longer able to hold back. Fred pulls away from your overstimulated clit and kisses your breasts, licking and sucking at your nipples to extend your pleasure. George has a bruising grip on your hip, keeping you anchored to him as he fucks you through his orgasm and even a little after, unable to pull away from the pleasure.

He kisses the back of your neck as his hips slow, pulling you upright and encasing you in his arms, his hands replacing his brothers on your breasts as he sucks at the back of your neck, cock still lodged deep in your pussy, plugging his cum from leaking out do you.

"I love you, so much," he says, panting as he tries to catch his breath. You twist your head around to search for his lips, kissing him passionately as you reply with just as much feverish desperation, telling him over and over again how much you love him.

"You love me too?" Fred asks with a mischievous grin from in front of you, trying to pull your attention back to him. You give George one last kiss and raise your hips until his softened cock slips out of you, a little trickle of his cum slipping out with the movement.

Your orgasm has only fuelled your desire and you crawl over to Fred with the most seductive, lust filled glance you can give, watching as his tongue slips out to wet his lips in anticipation. You kiss him with such passion that he doesn't expect it, falling back into his hunches as you slowly push him down further, wanting him on his back. Your arousal only doubles as you slowly feel George's cum dripping out of you, needing to be filled back up. You kiss down his body and take his bobbing length into your warmth mouth again, revelling in his groan as he reaches out for you. You suck him with abandon, ensuring he's as excited as possible before you suddenly pull off and straddle him, rubbing your dripping wet centre across his length as he groans. His hands immediately attach to your waist and you can see his gaze drifting over your breasts. Empowered, you reach down and grab at your own breasts, shaking them and dropping them as he watches on with the most delicious look on his face.

You can't wait any longer and you lift your hips, reaching down to grab at his perfect cock and sink down on him, both of you crying out at the same time in pleasure. There's no build up or teasing anymore as you set an intense, passionate pace from the start, riding him with expert precision until your breasts bounce, your hips undulating and circling in the way you know drives him wild. His hands drift everywhere over your body as if he doesn't know where he wants to touch and when you reach down with your right hand to teasingly circle your clit, he growls and throws his head back at the sight. You can already feel your second climax approaching, your walls clenching involuntarily as your hips rock harder and harder on his, taking every inch of him until there was nothing else he could give.

He reaches out with his hand and spanks you hard on your left buttcheek, temporarily throwing you off balance as you fall forward, his cock hitting a new angle inside of you that drives you wild. He begins fucking up into you, his hips thrusting off the bed as he groans without abandon. He leans down and takes your tits into his mouth again, sucking and slurping at the sensitive flesh as you cry out, desperately bucking your hips to meet his powerful thrusts. His hand cracks down on your ass multiple times as he spanks you over and over as you ride him, each hit making you cry out his name and fuck harder. He suddenly reaches out and grabs your hips, holding you still as his thrusts get harder and tougher as you feel him cumming. He fucks hard and deep, keeping you pinned to him until the last moment when he pulls your hips down onto his so that every single inch is filling you, his hips rocking but still as he cums, the hot seed filling you from the inside. All of this makes your own climax bursts out of you and you squirm and clench around his huge length buried inside you as your second orgasm washes over you, just as intense if not more so than before.

You're sweating and breathless as you come down, feeling like the aroused haze you were in is slowly slipping away. You can't help but smile as you gain full consciousness again, the orgasmic haze making you feel loopy.

"I love you," Fred says, pulling you down for a much gentler, sweet kiss.

"I love you so much," you reply, leaning down to kiss his again, running your hand through his sweaty and completed dishevelled hair.

"Both of you," you say, turning to reach out for George who had been sat back on the bed, allowing you and Fred to have your moment. He's hard again, having watched you just get plowed by his brother and you can't help but smile, reaching out your hand for him to join you.

You slip off of Fred, gasping at the sensation of his cum slipping out, having mixed with George's to really fill you as you pulled George beside you, hand instantly reaching out for his excited cock, stroking him in just the right way until he came for the second time, all over your tits.

"Fucking Merlin," Fred says to himself, rubbing his hands over his face as he looks between you all, completely bare and you covered in cum. "I'd say we made up for lost time."

"Speak for yourself big boy," you say with a smirk, "there's at least seven more positions I want to try before I feel like we've made up the time."

"Seven?! Dirty girl," George says, reaching out to tickle your ribs as you fall into his and Fred's lap, across their bodies.

"Six then, three each," you say with a wide smile, feeling absolved of your sadness and pain, even if it was just because of the high of pleasure you were still feeling.

"Sounds more than doable, I'd say," Fred grins, one arm resting over his eyes and one reaching out to stroke your thigh lovingly.

"Me too," George agrees, beaming down at you. You picked your lips and he chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips as you lay your head in his lap, completely unashamed of your nudity.

"Wanna start now?" You hear Fred say, his fingers slowly trailing from your thigh towards your centre.

"Already?" You gasp, pulling away from George to raise you head, looking towards Fred, who looks completely unfazed by your scandalous gasp.

"He got to cum twice did he not?" He says with a nod of his head towards George who just smirks smugly at his brother.

"Bloody twins," you mumble, immediately attacked by the two brothers beside you.

It's early afternoon by the time you all pull yourselves out of bed and into the shower, having truly made up for lost time. You felt insatiable and addicted, satisfied but still seeking more, exactly how the twins had felt too. Eventually you managed to peel yourselves away from each other and get dressed, trying to look presentable for dinner at the Burrow. You'd cursed George out for leaving love bites all over your neck and then Fred when you'd found one on the side of your breast. Luckily, with a wave of your wand they were concealed and you'd warned them both not to leave any more marks between now and then, at least until after dinner when they could do anything to you.

"Want to use the floo?" George asks, looking at you with adoration as you pull on a little summer dress and a cardigan to cover your shoulder, checking yourself for any sex induced marks that you might have missed.

"Yeah, so much easier," you reply, grabbing your bag as you both wait for Fred to join you.

"I think that's the first time I've seen my dick soft all day," he says, walking out of the bathroom, laughing to himself as he continues drying his damp hands. You can't help but laugh and move towards him as he approaches.

"Don't get used to it," you tease seductively, smoothing down a pack of wild hair around his ear. He groans and dramatically throws his head down onto your shoulder, buckling his knees as if he's weak.

"Great, I'll never get it down again."

_____________

"So, something I've been thinking over," Hermione says later that night as you all sit around the lounge. It's cramped with so many bodies but in stark contrast to how you felt before, it felt wonderful to be surrounded by your loved ones again. Everyone was there, including Percy, much to Molly's delight and everyone had been sharing stories of what had happened whilst you'd been away, some good and some bad. Ron and Hermione had once again done the majority of filling in the others on your own experiences, with a little input from Harry but this time you felt no resistance, glad that everyone could be told and understand what you'd been through. Bill had offered you multiple reassuring looks throughout the recollection, watching you carefully as the story of Godric's Hollow was recounted. You'd given him a wide, beaming smile that seemed to vanquish his concerns and he's smiled back at you with equal vigour, relief in his eyes as he listened in carefully, now understanding the full story. You'd held back some of the details, mostly about the private memories shared by Severus that no one else needed to know, keeping that for yourself. You'd proudly told them about the Lebetum and how he had protected you all multiple times, trying to get them to see that he was always behind you, never relenting in his support of the right side. He's been a spy for Dumbledore and had done it so convincingly that everyone around him had turned on him, though he was never really in the wrong.

"How did you figure out how to kill the snake? How did you know what to do to sever your connection?" She asks, looking to you as she grabs hold of her steaming cup of tea. You felt every pair of eyes in the room on you but didn't faulter, smiling and chuckling to yourself as the memory played out.

You turned to Fred and George, sat beside you on the sofa and smiled, "remember when Snape had me translate all those texts from Latin?"

"Yeah, you did nothing but complain about it for weeks," Fred says cheekily, slipping his hand onto your thigh. George chuckles, nodding along.

"Well in his memories, it showed him writing it into Latin for me to translate back," you said with a smile, shaking your head gently at his crude sense of humour.

"I always figured it might have been Latin but I couldn't figure out what Expecto Dominum Meum meant until Mr Ollivander translated it for me and he laughed. I await my master. When I connected with the snake, just before the death eaters arrived with Harry, it said something to me in my mind, when we found out she was a maledictus, seek me. Only it didn't sound like seek me, it echoed and warped in my mind, all different sounds coming out. It said seco, secaro, sectum. All of them are Latin phrases for Sever, cut, divide, withdraw. The curse that Severus created was Sectumsempra, it cuts like a knife, severing the skin. Sever. I used the venom I took from my shoulder and severed her skin with mine."

"Sever-us, all along," Hermione says in shock. You nod, finding humour in the irony.

"Sever Us," you nodded. "Then I healed her with the incantation."

"The same one you used on George," Harry adds and you nod, looking back at him.

"When I saw his memories, he showed me everything. How Dumbledore had recruited him, how he created the Lebetum, gave me the Latin book and had me offhandedly learn it, gave the Lebetum to Dumbledore to give to me. I only figured out the main clue right at the end."

"What was that?" Hermione asks, completely intrigued and hanging off your every word.

"Remember what the Minister said when he gave me the Lebetum? I leave this Lebetum, in the fond hope that you will never need this. Hermione, do you still have your copy of Beedle the Bard?"

She nods and summons it from her bag which is directly beside her, the extension charm going strong.

"You remember 'The hopping pot'?" you ask, nudging her towards the right chapter.

"Yes, it's the story of the old man who passes on his, oh," she says, realising the punchline.

"What?" Ron asks, missing the vital piece of information.

"He's a potioneer who uses his magic to help others and credits his potions pot, or cauldron, for his antidotes. When he dies, he passes it on to his son in the hopes he'll continue his work. Inside the pot is a single note that reads, 'In the fond hope, my son, that you will never need it'."

Everyone looks from Hermione, back at you, feeling their eyes on you again.

"After I watched Snape's memories, I saw the Latin glossary on his desk and checked what Lebetum meant, it was familiar but I couldn't place it. It meant Cauldron."

"Well, it sounds like you had great protection," Arthur says, following the stunned silence that lingers after your disclosure. "And more importantly, a great friend." He raises his glass and says with a warmth to his voice, "to Severus Snape!"

Everyone joins in, non louder than you as you toast to your lost friend, the mentor that had loved you and protected you even past his last breath. A tear forms in your eye but you blink it away, not wanting to feel anything except joy at this celebration. Fred, closest to you, leans over to kiss your cheek and you share a little smile between you, both knowing the depths of his sacrifice for you.

Bill stands then, holding up his glass once again as he turns to look at you, sending a playful wink in direction. "To Harry, Hermione, y/n and Ron, for sacrificing so much of themselves for the lives of everyone and for their bravery and toughness," he says in a clear voice. The toast is echoed around the room by everyone as they raise their glasses to you, Fred and George particularly loudly and you laugh, shooting a smile at Bill for his choice of words.

"And for the fallen," Arthur says, standing up straight once again, "may they now find peace and their actions always be honoured."

You think of Remus and Tonks, then of little Teddy who had lost both his parents in one night, just as Harry had all those years ago. You think of Madeye, Dumbledore, Sirius, Dobby and Severus, so many wonderful people lost along the way. You vow to honour them in every possible way throughout your life, never letting the importance of their sacrifices dim. From the moment you discovered Snape's true allegiance, you had vowed to yourself to clear his name, to undo all that had been done to conceal his true affiliation.

In all that you had endured, you had learnt so much about not only yourself but about resilience, about darkness and pain and what hate can do, but also most importantly about what love could do. As you looked around at the roomful of people you loved, none more so than the twins sat beside you, you pledged both to yourself and silently to them that you would surround yourself with love, knowing what good can come from loving yourself and others.

Epilogue... 19 years later.

There's an obvious buzz that seems to seep through the wall between platforms 9 and 10 at Kings Cross on the 1st September, entire families making the very important, annual pilgrimage to the magical platform. As you enter the platform, you notice that it's pure organised chaos with whole families stood around, a complete spectrum of emotion on display as the steam train hisses as it prepares to make it's main journey. You look around for your friends and relatives but don't see any of them yet, knowing you were a little early.

"Mum... mum! I've forgotten my scarf!" Your eldest daughter Aurora, or Rory for short, says from beside you in a panic. By the time you'd stopped, stopped the rest of your little flame haired party, and then turned to her, George had already pulled off the scarf from around his neck and had placed it on your daughter's previously empty neck.

"Thanks Daddy," your daughter says with a smile, once again reaching for the handle of the luggage trolley as she wheels her her trunk forward to the meeting point, pausing as she spots her friends in the crowd. She looks at you hopefully and you smile with a nod, encouraging her to join her friends, all of them vivaciously chatting about what their 5th year would be like.

"Finn! Griffin! Pay attention to where you're going!" Fred calls out towards your identical twin sons who are rallying ahead, racing each other's trolleys to see who can get to the pre-arranged spot first. Hard to believe with their actions that they were about to enter their 3rd year but it only took one look at their fathers to explain their behaviour. You shoot Fred a mischievous smile that conveys your humour at his words, the full circle moment showing in its entirety as you watch the ringleader of the original twins now trying to get his own children to mind the rules. He playfully shoves you and you can't help but laugh as he walks ahead, calling out to Finn and Griff again.

"Mum, there's uncle Bill!" Your youngest son, Henry, says as he squeezes your hand, pointing his finger out towards where you can see Bill, Fleur and their kids making their way through the bustling platform with a wave towards you all. "Mummy, why can't I go with Griff and Finn?"

You look down at Henry and give him a warm smile, pausing briefly as you look up at George, seeing him giving the exact same smile towards your youngest. You crouch down so you're a similar height to him and smooth back his fire red hair, the exact same shade shared by his twin older brothers and daddies.

"It'll be your turn soon sweetheart, only 3 more years now. Finn and Griff had to wait until they were 11 too, same as Rory and all your cousins."

"But everyone's starting before me! Even Lily! I hate being the youngest," he says with a sad pout and your heart breaks just a little for him.

In an ironic twist that seemed to mirror your own experience at Hogwarts, your twins Finn and Griffin had started two years before Albus Severus and Rose Granger-Weasley, just as Fred, George and yourself had with Harry, Hermione and Ron. Rory started two years before them just as her uncle Percy had started two years before you and your husbands and it seemed that a new Weasley grandchild had started Hogwarts every year for the past 6 years. Henry was the youngest of all the grandchildren and was only 8, meaning that he'd be with you for a few years before starting off on his own Hogwarts adventure.

"Being the youngest isn't a bad thing at all sweetheart," you say, feeling a large hand on your shoulder as George also bends down beside you to face Henry.

"Can I tell you a secret bud?"

Henry nods, looking up at his daddy with his little sad eyes. "Aunt Ginny is the youngest of all of us and you know what, she's terrifying! So strong and more than able to put up a fight, she's been standing up for herself all of her life, especially against me and your dad," George smiles, reaching out for Henry's hand.

"It's true," Fred says, stepping in and reaching for his son too. "Being the smallest is actually a good thing, you can sneak around and you never get blamed for anything!" You immediately nudge Fred's leg and shoot him a warning look but he simply smirks, chuckling as you all watch Henry light up again.

The whistle blows just as the Weasley's congregate, including the Potters and the Granger-Weasley's and you lovingly hug and kiss each one of your kids going off to Hogwarts, wishing luck to your niece and nephew as they start their first years.

"Got everything sweetheart?" You ask Rory, trying not to embarrass her by being too motherly and affectionate. She nods and surprises you as she reaches out for a hug that you gladly accept, a beaming smile on your face as you hold your eldest daughter tightly. "Do the best you can, we're all so proud of you already." She hugs her dad and daddy before climbing onto the train in the compartment with her friends and never looks back as they instantly begin chattering.

"Griff," you say reaching out for the younger of your twins.

"He's not Griff, I am!" Says the other twin from beside you, forcing you to bite your lip hard not to burst out laughing.

"Oh sorry Finn," you play along, knowing with acute maternal instinct that he is in fact not Finn. He smiles at you, now nearing the same height as you and for a moment it's like looking at Fred and George in their third year, the spitting image of his dads. You hug him close, laughing when another set of identical arms wrap around you and you hug both of your boys together.

"Go have the best time, we love you so much," George says, pulling his sons into a warm embrace, followed closely behind by Fred who hugs them both, messing up their hair at the same time as they grumble a synchronised 'daaaaad'.

"Bye Henry! We'll see you soon!" Finn shouts from the open window of the compartment, shouting for his little brother and waving, never forgetting him.

"Yeah! We'll send you a chocolate frog!" Griffin adds, sticking his head through the window too.

"Or two!"

"Bye!" Henry shouts, waving wildly as the train begins to pull away, no longer sad about his brothers and sister getting to go before him.

"Right," you say as the train pulls completely away, turning to face your youngest son, both of your husbands either side of you. "Now it's just us 4 again, who wants ice cream?"

Fred pulls you and George back slightly as you step through the brick wall back to the Muggle station, Henry skipping forward without a single look back.

"So when are we going to tell him that he won't be the youngest anymore?" He asks, placing his hand on your slight bump.

"That's what the ice cream is for," you say with a smirk, earning a chuckle from George beside you who also reaches out to touch your growing belly.

And all was well.

Taglist:

@missryerye

@football1921

@rk-ceres

@weasleywheezer

@lotusloisstuff

@c0comichi

@xthatpottahfanx

@aigowen