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astralnymphh · 2 months

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copy that, romeo

— ellie williams was supposed to be your supervisor, not your object of infatuation ~ ♡

⋆❝ this is cordero tower, calling in.❞⋆

CHAPTER ONE: SUMMERTIME INTERLUDE . NEXT CHAPTER > ♡. pair; firewatcher!ellie x recruit!reader

♡. summary; it's 1995, and the angel crater national park welcomes you; a retrograde lookout all to yourself, a space nerd for a supervisor, and a whole summertime job spent in hues of sepia and juniper, waiting for the first sign of smoke. ninety–three days. you don't know her face, you share no breath— but by walkie–talkie, you know her voice.

♡. a/n; READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. CLICK HERE. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. ALSO THIS.

♡. content; EVENTUAL SMUT, narrator present, silly fourth wall breaking, a dash of comedy, slowburn (somewhat), living alone, long–distance pining, reader/characters are similar ages(mid–late 20s), depression, heavy metaphor usage, complicated poetry styles, mentions of organs, mentions of weaponry, metaphorical death, grim humor, drinking alcohol, drunk!ellie, drunken flirting (vaguely and bluntly), ellie jumpscare, uh-oh sassy masc apocalypse, she's corny and cheesy too (a dork), awkwardness, humiliation, lighthearted bickering, nicknames used. [lmk if i missed anything] . SERIES PLAYLIST .

WC; 6.1k+ ✮ thank you @trackinglessons for your sexy brain and beautiful ideas + custom art ✮ masterlist ✮ series masterlist ✮ ellie ref sheet

Summertime is the interlude between misery and Mondays.

May was a rough patch for you. A coagulated chapter within the spring world, a shunned ponder, red jello in the gradience of passage. Tempus, time. Early months hence were just as pessimizing, doubt is an arid reservoir in you. But, as a maypole sits a svelte giant in the sweet Beltane soil, braving an invisible smile whilst little ones— little laughters, spun prances and wraps of dainty satin to an ensnare on its long body, it weeped for its delicate capture. You; flesh coarse like timber, relate to the log standing, ensnared. Sunk in that gelatinous texture, unmoving as pressures collided with the surface outward, ripples everywhere yet incapable of sprinkling through you. Something would have to delve itself to drag you out.

Chapters; cusp of autumn to April, every single month, wound ‘round you. They each had separating colors, and spared turns to soundly fold your limbs and bulge your skin in ribbons. It snipped your circulation, shriveled the ripe breath in your skull and traded it for a pressure. A throb. Weight upon the cranium, you felt the narrowing cradle inside wilt from thought, drain from consciousness, and soften your stiff eyes locked on drywall. Hour to hour.

But those weren't the only things taunting you with a dance— expectations danced faster. Expectators, paired minds heaping expectations; yourself and the selves blackjacking their wants expressed as worries onto you. Stressful creatures, they are. Bosses, co–workers, energy vampires disguised as lover boys prowling about your workspace, general creatures of the retail world. God, they're like ravenous wolves snarling hunger through their teeth, slobber moonlight–bright of that dire carnality for variety meats. Depression just took the first serving before they could.

Even the domesticated places are a wilderness untamed.

Stress drained you of life. It softened your desire to even try. Gods are dulling, blamed you, on another dull morning where the trickling sound of coffee pouring drilled irk into your ears, rather than simply a trickle. Caffeine, a roast so void–black was brewed to un–drain you. Yet, it fuckin didn't.

Impugning was your everything, until it could no longer purify; Elaine. Emptiness. Hmm, you gave this state of vacuum–headed hollowness a name, keenly because it deserved so by its dismantling of your autonomy. You don't want it. It's not you. It's Elaine. A some–angel fallen out of grace, weary of its wander upon a washed up cove, beige toned and swept shivering–cold. Interested by the warmth your sundry organs pushed into its light silhouette.

And perhaps, if the bird was never freed from its heavenly cage, it would be powerless to pester you, to poke the meat inside with the pointy end of plumage.

Elaine was an organized assault on your wellbeing, moreso against the pulpy, pinkish-gray blob sitting ugly above your throat. Believe it, or assume it. A paralysis, moving shoulders from bed sheets proved farcical, running bristles over your teeth twice a day rhymes with nonsense, and midnight ink born to swirl and curtsy to convey thoughts gone rancid, goes unused atop the white flutter between your journal hardcovers. You have a morbid case of the seasonal blues, except this time, the season is beyond its blue hues. Spring, a fuckin’ kaleidoscope embellished. Blotches of big fuck you greens so vibrant you'd long to die from your tears, and an abstract spit of smell me reds thorny as your stomach brought to a scream for something. Anything.

It was a slow, banal descent into the jello.

January, floating atop the sweet delicacy, atop your bed.

February, the solidity gave out beneath you, goo subtly etching around your ankles, calves, elbows, unforgivingly cold when it first hit. When in reality, the bed was heating from your lay.

March, marrow goes heavy, your limbs at this time could not lift, your efforts waned, and satiating the rumble in you with sustenance was forgotten, as that rumble got so, so.. quiet.

April, the jello had stuffed your nose, your sockets, and lullabied your ligaments. You let it happen.

May.

You let yourself sink. Let yourself decompose and go mush in the head. Like a zombie.

The descent doesn't taste of sweet delight, but it also fails to churn your lips with a heavy saccharinity. Neutral, your hopeful side did say. Nothing, rationality slapped past your lips.

Five months, either a misery, or a Monday.

Yes Eve, a bite out of the Apocrypha will indeed fill this human abysm in me. Forbidden knowledge is my craving. Contraband of truth, bite to bite, I envy that I could not cope with its coating of my empty gut earlier.

Innocence is so dull. You are depressed, not a fucking saint for staying indoors, starving your rage.

But on came a crisp bouquet of biker–boy newspapers; ‘Hiring’, and a few scans further; ‘Do you harness a great love for the evergreen?’

A honed section in Missoula's local print— jobs. A publisher boldens and compresses enthusiasm sporadically; writing–on–the–wall hollers speckle themselves meticulously on the newsprint that strike a sense of obligation into the susceptible and soft–of–heart chunk of the population. A pert voice read with persuasion between your ears, gritty in tone and stereotypical of a middle aged ranger, vocals fried by cigarettes but as booming as a cannon.

“Do you care for the animals inhabiting our national sanctuaries?”

Abutting small paragraphs, the sagging belly of a black bear, tender caramel snout and snoopy–faced, fitted on its head a mustard yellow campaign hat labeled, ‘Smokey’. Its burly, blundering frame on all fours stood out over a comic–style vista of the Montana rockies, paws obscured by blocks of thickset text reading ‘Only you’.

Huh, a realistic depiction of Smokey Bear— over a not–so–realistic background, avant–garde.

Tree greens sprawly that didn't shout ‘Fuck you’ on your poor, sunken eyes searing for sleep and a twilight darkness. Sagey lichens that didn't draw out the spasms above your own bones, calling your regard to bring pin–sized problems and blemishes sprawling your own flesh out of the bliss of ignorance. Brunette muds with only a fleck of sun, a slice of earth dull, humble and unprocessed enough from benevolence to leave you unconsumed, unsunken. A mere slop and pudge in the future and wake of your walk. Nothing obnoxiously grand, nothing sanctimonious. Nature is by birth— righteous, regardless.

“Before we can be proud of our nation, our nation must be proud of us!”

The advertisement gropes for a summertime made free. A cyclopean sinkhole in the becoming of time. Recruits–in–waiting are called to bargain normalcy and the bustling cities plump with lumbering limbs of sheen–tight pantyhose shaded under short shapes of plaid skirts for boot–cuts n’ backpacks hefty with gear that could either save you the trouble of mountaineering by path, or trouble your time with a faulty snapping of two things. Rope and neck.

Too grim?

A months’–long moment of tension snapped at the pressure joint— Summertime the snapper. You'd be devoting ninety–three suns, ninety–two moons, and some two–million breaths of fir laden air up in Angel Crater National Park, northwest of here. Pupils flickering the double-page setup, you continue: A pictographic, old–fashioned lookout taller than the timber spires surrounding would be your station, your core of operations, for those three young and sunny months. Boxed provisions and supplies are guaranteed to ship every other week, and testimonies encourage even the anxious, balmy buzzes of your brain to sigh in solace learning that the weald creatures there— are mostly harmless, if you aren't bred an imbecile. Alongside, an appointed supervisor, whose name was never disclosed duly except for a scratch of text gingerly clasped in quotations reading, “E.R.W” trailing the mention of said supervisor. What’s required of you was delivered plain written and patent on that shoddy newspaper, held thick in your intrigued thumbs; Keep the forest from catching wild fire.

You fiddled the idea. Should I? Or should I wallow the summer away? Fiddled it anxiously, fiddled it needily, bumped the clumped rim of the newsprint on your cupid's bow in bending rumination, steadied it cause newspaper smells oddly good— but next to minutes racing hours upon musing, a conclusion had to knock your static looping of gloomdom in the butt.

One phone call, and the bird would be barred again. Pesterer, Elaine the Terrible, would be cast back where eyes can't roll over the cottony clouds. Just a couple fucking prods to your number–pad, might genuinely un–drain you.

Luckily, you aren't an idiot reared to take bullshit longer than meritted.

You took the job.

May 30th, 1995, 7:28 PM.

What does any clever pedestrian traipsing capricious terrain store in their pack to avoid total gangly–branch–grips–of–nature butchery?

Item one; Black nylons— scratch that, you aren't getting paid to snag at every kink and curl of the forest, tighties of gossamery fabrics are a no–go. Citywear stays citywear. Double scratch on those sweet, blackberry Mary Janes too prized and polished to muck up in shit of the earth. Immolating the rigid underside of some chunky hiking boots to the unruly woodlands is the adrenaline pinnacle of out–worlding, come on. It proves you've got a hardy backbone and the right row of teeth to chew what you've bitten off, sullying boots ‘till the color is forevermore stained. Backup boots are tradition, so that's item number two. Best get used to cargo, ankle–length overalls and miscellaneous graphic tees, cause the rockies’ fashion gurus can't get enough of ‘em!

Clothing, check.

Swathes of ropes twined pumpkiny orange and plenty of clanging anchors to bolt them in, goddesses and gods forbid you be tight on anchors. Medical kits— duh, did you trudge all from yonder just to die out here? This country is dicey, at the cuddly claw of a bear, or not. Hair ties, scrunchies you hoarded as a teenager in the eighties, disposable camera to suit your flaky memories, and an eclectic dump of nutty and fruity cereal bars galore. Unless you're allergic. Substitute.

Accessories and essentials, check.

Ah, and a spare pistol and switchblade in replacement of newcomer paranoia! Keep that hush–hush though. No matches or lighters, obviously.

True American, illegal weaponry, check.

All this paraphernalia bangs and clangs heavily on the polyester holding of your backpack, straining your scruff uncomfortably as you tiptoe, scarcely tumble, and tread lightly across a log. It creaks, it groans, it wobbles slightly over the blaring white rush of a stream, suctioning your heart–to–stomach when it grinds a wee bit louder than you thought it should.

“Shit!” you crimp your torso in and dart wary hands on the timber beam at your feet, assuming a gawky newborn–bambi–pose in hesitation, shuddering in cracked tones, “This can't be the right way..”

Hoping on an evaporated sun, you frazzlingly testify in repetitive thought that the map mailed by the rangers a week prior led you on this perilous and incorrect path.. for the last two days. Winding and wounding, literally— your bruises are measureless and on top of that ache your skin to want no more of this. But, you have to. A boulevard of brown, short and stout, wrung unyielding from one gray side to the greener other, a shortcut. Assumed to be a shortcut, based on the route drawn by utter confusion.

Oh yeah, and remember the advertisement stating the park was twenty-five miles out?

Nothing about that hot-press, black-cat inked newspaper accounted for the extra eight weighing your ankles down and your motivation dead low. Twenty-five only stretched out unto the ranger parking lot. The entrance, for fuck's sake.

Shaky flit of your digits, they float gently off the carve–veined surface of the wood, unfolding your spine as you rise. “Wrong way—” you utter to your chest, oven–warm as it puffs, “—gotta be the wrong..”

Tentative–ism is normal here, right? Like, no way you're cautious and sweating at the brow for nothing. Right?

One foot— creeakkk— in front of the prudent other, two sailing lunges, three hurried hops and a matched thud soft as marshmallows plants your shoes to hallowed ground. Blades of verdant whiskers so innocent crush under, and it feels fucking— demeaning, actually. All that gulping and pausing.. for nothing.

You tuck a shoulder–glance to the makeshift ricket of a bridge, and blankface, “Didn't feel like killing me today?”

The tree bears no reply.

“Hmph, surprising. Seeing as someone killed you,” a sigh parts, fading into the whip and straightening of your head, “figured the pursuit of revenge doesn't stop at ghosts.” and the hoist of your boot up, carrying onward.

Sundown paints, crescent layers repose approaching moonlight and dying sunlight sprawls psychedelic limbs above you. Balance ambling in tiny bops only made the swirling grasp of those gradient rays more trippy on your eyes and coercive of daydreams, rot–nip for the brain. You spot nutbrown brick— a fireplace in your mind, fevered heat roasting on the inside wall of your forehead too. It was Christmas before the storm, a subzero December. And it was, in fact, colder than the unreachable heaven. Dad was hunkered down in front of that innocuous amber crackle, his right leg slack to the ground and his left arched in the neck of an acoustic guitar, arms plaiting its hollow curve into his chest. 1971, when the veil through and within was thin, and love–vomit poured so easily through. A time of justified ignorance; Childhood.

Stood you adjacently, legs short and posolutely not stout, dimpled in the knees. Aged two years, and mushy as ambrosia, contorting your mouth jubilant as you're told for the camera, contrary to your father with his expression drooping to his strumming fingers. Sickly sweets, adult–you unpurposefully neglects to twirl lips at, your extraordinary grins now turned ordinary flat–lines. Holiday memoirs, those spoiled ripe quick after adulthood bolted itself in the slabs of your tender spine and instilled an artificial love for labor and country, displacing nostalgia from ever being seen as a flesh existence.

“Say cheese!”

America is sub–human, and sub–humans created America, the imperfect cycle. Families tear, eagles outcry, friends drink their death, and the days continue to unfold without a trace of acknowledgement. Days exist where you soak festivities and stave off the pointer–finger poking at so called slack you relish, and some twenty dwindling years ahead the slowly deadening oak grove road, carousals will be criminally known as layabout–makers.

Joy is a luxury now.

A blockage prevents your foot from winching clean forward, meeting the bone–hard kiss of a boulder to sore your toes. “Fuck!” you brand your throat walls to a shout, pissed at the rock rather than your woolgather that lead you to said rock, “Fucking fuckhead rock!”

Woolgather means daydreams, by the way. Funner to use words that don't make a split of sense. Yay for English.

The sunset clouds dripped with a mania of fascination and had strung your brain to its hypnotic whims, like a siren had soloed a trance, drifting your mind somewhere utopian and phantasmagorical. It sounds silly, but, blanking out seems so often out of grasp from your control, you usually could never flag what caused it, when it started, and why. Nothing practical surfaces. Fuck, your head is so tangled upon memories, you haven't even noticed the progression of scenery twelve o’clock from you.

Ponderosa boughs band together where your eyes brush shapes and forage for a clue of what scene wants to greet you ahead. The sequestering silence of rustles indicates a clearing, possibly. Possible as it could be, you fully expected this cruel footslog to wallop your ass into a minefield, so you bet cards and course carefully beneath the crowns of pine, completely bent to the chance of another obstacle threatening your tender ankles. Leafy whispers above strum your ears brimmed with its sotto voce song, and then— colors it silently behind.

“Holy shit.”

Presence crumbles above you, and opens before you. The lookout. Wood shafts slant in opposing directions, up and up along four brawny beams in three consecutive layers, like a blocky cone. The face closest to you overlaps the backing rest, giving the illusion of tufted wooden legs sketched under all lackadaisical. Endgame daylight spies from behind this one–roomed cyclops, gushing final spurts of citrus rays as if it truly was an orange squeezed to pulp. So, the flank and forehead of that towering, mountainscaping lookout rolling a cold shoulder to the sun, paves in a tattered tapestry of garnet smokiness instead. Shadow of sundown. From where you sow feet, a football field apart, petty details are difficult to squint into clarity, but the window panes appear tawny, too.

An intimidation, “So much for a tiny room.” A beaute intimidation, “And no actual bathroom.” it makes you feel like a genuine insect compared.

A sort of stairwell serpent faintly chokes the foot, the calves, the thighs, and punctures kindly a mouth leading up to the skirting balcony hedged in many gaunt teeth. Tamping gravel closer, subtleties and fine points fade as the tower's plank–lined and flat underbelly turns to you. Larger and larger, it dips darkly from miniscule masquerade.

Bringing your decently aching foot to the first step, you press into the curb and meander your cruder aching— thanks to a random boulder— foot weirdly on the outer ridge of your boot. Making it up the stairs to fund yourself a fucking break was a palpable mockery in itself. Like, ‘Hey! Climb this long–ass stairwell for a teensy break before doing it all over again the next day!’.

Un–fucking–believable.

Fifty years of history and past rangers grate in your walk, the floorboards thump with their stories, thump into your skin— verse you a wordless eulogy. Each step is a sentence, and every sentence branches into a whole tree of genealogy, lives. Lifestyles you can't understand now, but will.

Really redundant of me to highlight the generations alive in those floorboards. The walk up there isn’t that exciting.

After the last step, you're met eye–to–frame with a scratched door, pygmy window centered and paper–screened from within, and the stories predating your stay inspire a comical theory, “Jeez— bears make it up here?” you half–suppress a snort, palming a fist on the doorknob coldly before rotating and giving sympathetic pressure to the door.. jammed.

“C’mon..” knuckles pulse into the knobs plate, gradually upping the force you pushed, “.. losing light out here..” eventually adding your other hand to sweeten the push.

Sure, a whole year has gone by since it homed somebody, and it's retro, but come on.

Breaking splinters into the door was your last intention, so you try so–so carefully— to some extent, “Please..” now butting the tip of your boot on the rim to ease it— ease, and finally pry, a clapback of wind blowing dusty, nightfall air past your crescent cheeks following the snap of the fallow door.

Thank goodness for your grace and balance, some days, avoiding a timely trip face–first to a floor so powdered in light dust, any kid would mistake it for a good time sweeping snow angels.

Not so good for the respiratory system though.

Muggy space filtering your lungs tightly, you cough out, “Gah— fuck!” nothing higher than the level of a guttural wheeze, your chest punching into your throat. Gaping out the last flock of butterflies clumped at your collarbones, the tickle inside calms, and you find your sights taking in a dark box. A dim orb of lily silver glow rests in the middle of the pall room, raising the natural, “Where's the ligh— ah, big clunky thing—”

Flicking the off–white and stubby nub attached to an impractically sized lightswitch, which frankly resembles an electric box externally, an essence of Apollo ladens the room. Lemony–gold light, passably bright off the redwood ceiling, and murmuring a low buzz through one ear, and out the other, your pupils caper along the contrasting shades awakened.

“Definitely retro, but.. no roommates.” spoke you, gingerly content with the colors piecing this camper pad together. You observe.

Forget–me–nots bled the cotton bedsheets baby blue, leavening the mattress with a tidy emotion as it's tucked, folded at the top and draped in a complimentary quilt— benevolent blues, hues your lids soften on. The bed beelined from the doorway, a corner counter fawn–brown as the wood extends adjacent to it, covering the northeastern angle of the room. Magpied brands of canned food clutter shelves, spines spanning thick books of epic poetry to sci–fi comics create a ribcage of literature along a compact bookcase perching that countertop, and sunken in the east side of it, a steel sink. It shimmered sunflower bands of light as you moved, a rainbow–arched faucet brightened completely.

Step by step, you draw near a circular table in the middle. Strange rods and gadgets stuck out of the borders, inlaid glass protecting a local map so sleek you could see a phantom of your face in it, and a black bar looming the width, so it rings with tangible importance. Of which you'll gauge about later. Truthfully, the journey by foot here? Dead–beating, your knees bloated, throbbed flesh hot, and almost buckled; fatigues infamous way of scolding you to sit the fuck—

“Sup Maple lake, you there?”

A pang hammers to your heart, and a crawlish wave of startled blood pales from your face and drops to your jaw, “Jesus!” sweat hitting you a blink after, every normal function just— flunked. That voice, more like a ruptured stereo sizzling, caught you the fuck off guard. Now you dither, dumbassery taking your eyes through a new loop of figuring out where–why–how and what the robotic intruder wants.

But pre–realizing, your ears perk to a more coherent, and outstretched string of static, “C'mon, know you're checked in.” and post–realization tugs your eyes to a mustardy n’ black cased device; a walkie–talkie.

Okay, way to creep recruits out. Whoever, for whatever reason— at the nick of night too, gimme’ a break. You wry, knitting raisin crinkles above your nose, trying to discern your palette of options; pick up the walkie, tap in and feign politeness in the shortest and sluggiest scraps of small talk to be done with the day, or rant off the bat— highlight how fucking late it is, and how taxing a double–goddamned–day hike made your head and patience feel. And right now, the second response route feels arguably more tempting than—

“This is Cordero Tower, calling in. Can see ya’ standing by the Osborne, by the way.”

Its staticy feedback has waned completely, densening a thick husk and tilting towards a honeyed undertone. Relaxed sounding or not, what the fuck.

You react predictably, flicking your chin west, then east only for you to meet the dead of night— thanks mountains— stalking perfectly in every single window. So, useless to check. Answering it was a yes–go, it would be sickenly awkward to thrust it under the rug now. Your knees pull forward, eyes calligraphing the power buttons tinted in cherry light, palm drawing to meet your focal point.

The case is ribbon gentle under your fingertips’ graze, fresh and in store–new condition. Maybe the only thing hot from the pot of newfangled technology. Plastic intricacies roll under until you settle on a swollen button, denting the plush of your finger as you press, hold, and speak. A crisp crackle activates your line, tuning you in.

Breath hesitates between your chords, “Maple.. lake.. speaking,” off–the–tongue words manifesting on–the–spot, “you can see me?”

“Yeah.” the walkie chuckles, sugary curl pitching up and through their tone, “Look out ur’ north window, you'll see her.”

Her?

Nooking your nose north, you only widen pupils on that same, starless coast of darkness nosing the rim of your window sills. What do they mean to—

“Nh–no,” You literally said north, “get closer to the window, n’ look up.” What, are you a fucking sparkling, rasp–voiced eagle?

“Fuck are you talking about,” mouthed you void of voice, stumped on what this person was getting at. Wedging your knuckles below the meshy underside of your backpacks right strap, you wrangle it down your arm as you glide rubbery sole along croaking oak, tossing that bag so cumbersome atop a lily white pillow— looking fresher than a daisy, and clamber the mattress pliantly dented to your knees to grasp a broader panorama.

And with that window hood washed over, a convoy of fireflies focus a tiny constellation in the murked glass. Little pinholes of light, dots in the distance. They rough–hew a blur, but the excess seconds taken to brood squints and balance the blurry blotches, an outline crops up. Another fire lookout, sprouting from rock and rise of a berg. Offspring of the distant cordillera that gives this whole park its sense of a cradled–woodland, but either way thought, a lookout hosts it home on top.

“You can see me from all the way out there?” you wondered, truly. I mean— at minimum, a sore sprawl of miles bridges you both.

“Mhm..” a pause loiters that fluid hum, then some really throaty syllables, “Binoculars~” you could almost envision— nah, feel the stare of those binocs, undoubtedly taking note of every contort in your body right now.

“Oh thats, totally.. not,” you blunt your tone, shying a few inches from the glass, “.. creepy.” awkwardly. “Uh, who are you anyways— are you like, uh, another recruit?” as you engage small talk, grumpy frown pouting, the habit of kissing your wrist to your jaw as you would a piglet–tailed telephone overruns your burnt out focus, having to wince the walkie away when your eardrums nearly burst.

Ouch.

“For one, I'm actually your supervisor. I know, I don't sound like a typical smoker–lunged, middle–aged white dude.” their tone gruffs and deepens to impersonate, finger air quotes practically radiating from the other end, “And two, my name is Ellie— Ellie Miller–Williams, if you care.”

“Don't.” you heave out the pain stretching your head, aching each time you simply thunk.

“Straightforward,” her timbre ups in approval, seemingly, “I like it. I like you, recruit I dunno’ the name of.” and a bubble hics her throat, quite audibly.

“Not single.” Wrong, just uninterested. Hooking two fingers in the fabric handle of your bag and craning it to the ground, with scattered grates of plastic buckles skating the floor.

“What?”

Oh, shit she wasn't— oops, ‘course she meant that platonically, heads so damn muggy, “Uh, it's—my name.. sorry I’m just a bit out of the loop—” Dumbass, unscramble your brain alphabet soup, will you?

“That’s a long ass name, what were your parents thinking? Haha.” Her duo–beat chuckle flares your humiliation, and then proceeds to pinch its swollen parts into total inflammation, “Where does it originate from?”

Cheesy bitch, “Can you not— I like, pfhh..” you temper yourself with a moon–cool blow to chap your lips and inflate your cheeks, ending up with a draw of an even more loosened tongue sour as it complains, “Did a whole two–day hike through the most torturous terrain just to get here, I really don't—”

Please.

And if gripes trudged through teeth aren't persuasive enough, you recess your bone–ache bod avidly in the springy haven of your bed which chirped at your weights shifting motions, collarbones packing down on your vocal chords. You shouldn't sound up to chat whatsoever. Instead, vehemently drained, “I just wanna get some shut eye, talk me over n’ the mornin’.” your thumb lying a button away from disconnecting.

“Hey, hey—” Ellie ushered, her slurry breath fogging up the mic. Lips squeak softly into it, smacking before an intone, “Can't I be a little curious?”

You synchronized in noise, sucking teeth behind heart–pursed lips, “Do you think somebody this exhausted has the appetite to entertain you?” stilling your thumb–pad on the power off key.

“If I keep bothering you,” that alone ticked you, her blatant drive to carry on when your brain rejected its substance, “.. yeah. Maybe you'll be nicer then too.. huph!” a heartier peep hicced up on the speaker, and right then that noise jogged a discovery.

“Are you drunk?” has to be.

Of course, she ignores the naked and sorely obvious, “Did your boyfriend break ur’ heart or something— an’ that's why you're out here?” bottle sloshing in the background of her mumble.

Dumbstruck, you furrow a miffy expression, “W–what, boyfriend?”

“Said you weren’t single.” she recalls, warmly unspinning the fuddle that knit your brows, “Think I forget so easily?” drawled like a sultry retort, baking your ears.

You a hundred percent forgot though.

Gosh, short–term memory sucks, or it's just your energy drought making you woozy. Blame it on lethargy, “No no, that was just.. tired talk. I thought you were hitting on me.”

“Oh? That's cute.” her choosing to say that latter statement unfolded discordantly, you seriously couldn’t gauge if that was a flirt, or another paper daisy— mock honey, a platonic notion. Even so, it sounded so damn smooth, lace to the ears. “But no, I wasn't— m'not like gay or ‘whutever.” stammered her, light snort fanning.

A stifled chuckle hops from your chest, mixing with hers, “Uhuh, cool.” halfway uncaring and halfway amused, bafflement working your facial muscles.

“Yeah, um, but seriously..” her voice drifts into a ponderous rasp, the faint rustles of flimsy paper licking page to page subtler than her speech, “what's got you out here, newbie?”

“Newbie. Really?” A brow pricks.

“I mean, you're new— new to the lookout, new to the job, in need of my phenomenal supervision and my wide range of knowledge. Yeah, a newbie.”

Then your brow mellows, tension held in your face dropping dead on backhanded flattery, “You are funnily agonizing.”

“Aw.” her scratchily suave coo has your jaw set like stone, “That's so sweet.” but her short–lived song has your heartstrings soaked in ripe honeycomb, touched to the core by sweetness nebulose and an assortment of some foreign threads. Thickened heart, tighter ribs, a churn to weaken your stomach, a maverick of things unfamiliar to you.

Momentaries, but still noticeable even if your senses were twisted backwards.

Chewing over how you'll begin to explain, a few letters sift through your chords, until you hook on a sigh, “Ah, well, I'm out here for a fuck ton of reasons—”

“Reasons, or— huhp, problems?” Ellie blurt–hics, nosy.

“..”

A brief gulp and exhale wheezes from her, “Sorry, it's the bourbons’— super good. Continue.”

You loosely split your mouth, gasping to exchange a gale for words pressing out, “A series of reasons, and problems, that I don't bother to lay on a grand platter, so you'll get a summary tossed on an appetizer plate.” you preface. Allow an elliptical gap to cut through, rousing her hum to let you know her ears are as intent–peaked as a Chihuahua’s, “Contact with my parents’ has gone cold, my last job made me want to hurl into a pack of crocodiles— and the city became too loud and too heavy–handed. Saw this job on the local paper, and got the hell out of dodge.”

An omissive summary, you meant.

There’s more that eats the heart. People can’t just.. drop the burden of knowledge wantonly on randos like they’re idling under fertile treetops waiting for the apples to plummet, biting into a pulpy biography. She’s just a girl, not a therapist.

A discomforted purr lengthens into her reply, “Mmmmh, ever try a drink or two?” her intoxicated reply.

“Oh, see,” you flap your hand and slap it to your denim clad thigh, “you are drunk.” as if she could even see your gesture.

“No, I’m Ellie, hmhm~” comes with a giggle, and you consider her state of insobriety to be— wavering, but it’s stimulating to hear her fluctuate between groaned jokes and extra raspy comments, “Still haven’t told me your name though.”

Some moments during this whole ‘Who are you?’ seminar made you concerned for your future here— if you’ll make it out psyche intact, but some moments found by winnowing through the illogical backtalk touched you with inbound camaraderie.

Invisible touches that inhabit your neck with a leak of your name so— sincerely. It transforms into a fairer sound on your ears when she repeats it, affirming it. Nobody else's teeth clutches your name so welcome as she.

“Hmm, ‘name kinda fits your voice.” odd commentary, but since composed with her already peculiar and drunken tongue, the shoe fits.

That said, crabby confusion seems easier to articulate, “Thanks, weirdo.” but lips rebellious, they press an inevitable grin together.

“No problem, sleepyhead.”

So many nicknames.

Recognizing that downtick in hubbubs and breaths on the walkie, checking out for the night posed as a passionate option the burden weighing your eyelids couldn't or shouldn't veto. So you haul your torso up, kick and poke your toes over ankles to butt your boots off prior planting your heels, whisking toward the lightswitch and committing your lookout to swell with the outside's dark fresco.

Stygian tones.

“Speaking of sleepy heads..” you taper off speech, leaving the rest to her— touch wood— wide enough, hopefully–not–drunk–enough imagination to fathom as you slide and slip desperately beneath woolen blankets, sleepy worries, and sentences sailed to rest.

“Aw man.” Ellie bums so, so stupidly, for comical value.

“Yeah, man.”

“Mpht—” wetness smacks, “wanted to bore a pretty girl to death with recruit regulations and syllabi..”

How would you know?

In reality, Ellie was reaching a transcendent caliber of wasted, drinking up your atmospherics and drunken to her gutly core. Woods hatch forlorn people; forlorn people get thirsty, “But, mhh, heads’ nearly falling off, whoof.” she expresses a soaring of vowels, but it parallels a gruff howl more.

Drowsy, buzzy jubilancy, plucking her flirty strums. You sugarcoat the flare in your chest hearing ‘pretty girl’, ears clicking to the swallow convincing your heart that Ellie was not flirting. As established; She’s under the influence, and not gay. Your brain repeats that, over and over, repeat, repeat, she isn’t flirting.

“Hey, here's a tip..” you inch the walkie a penny away from your flopped head, clefting your lip open, “Don't get drunk on the job. They didn't hire you to decoct your brain the day before chaperoning a recruit in the literal wilderness. So, stash that shit, n’ let's both get some shut eye, yeah?” and saying all that, may have just cashed in your last dose of breath and brain cells for the night.

Ellie being Ellie— well, what you suspect is a ‘her’ thing after these few speckled minutes, dopily laughs at you. And dammit if she wasn't glamoring a dopey smirk in accord, you’ll have gleaned wrong.

A voice, “Who’s the boss again?” her witty and cruel wisecrack, “They didn't pay you to boss the— hup, boss around.”

They will pay you to confront and reflect your spectrum of limits if this girl brushes their seams, that's for certain. Or, play God and lambast her, tender as milk.

There's even a stroke of a chance, that your crooked lips poached her dopey grin instead, “Kay, well, maybe they'll reimburse me for your poor services.”

“My services are not poor. You'll see, tomorrow.” the volume of her melts away, going muted under liquid swills clanging on glass.

“Please tell me that's the sound of you putting the bottle away.”

“Mhm!” came out plugged, the bottle confining her garble, then popping clean as a cork, “Fuck— okay,” she siphons air in, pure little clink tinting the end of her sharp–edged sniffle, “Make sleeping in earlier worth it t’morrow, wanna drive you nuts with my questions.” she nasals, drawing near the mic again.

Such a magpie, “Cause you're lonely?” and weird.

“Shut up,” she shushes you, a satin whisper light–hearted and quick on beat, “M’not lonely anymore, right?” The type of softly spoken outcry that would balloon your cheeks with soreness if you were face–to–face with the throat that conducts it. Involuntary smiles plague you everywhere. But there is no mouth, no larynx, no throat that you view the swallow of. Just a walkie, so you settle in stoicism.

You tug your upper–lip and pivot your eyes, drumming up something clever to combat, “In a sense. Not like we’re bunkmates, thank goodness.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie breaks into a cuss spout so serenely, she sounded small and harmless, “just go to bed.” reduced to birch in winter shed of its brittle autumn arguments.

“Don’t gotta tell me once.”

By the first full and emphatic giggle she cast just now that wasn’t suppressed nor achieved by humble pie, you take it that Ellie found you funnily harrowing just as her, two peas in an outstretched pod. Fault be with her, for getting wasted. Otherwise, you might have pried her skull open with questions dolled up as a pruner, clipping the forelimbs that are foliated in a messy breadth of first glance leaflets and attitudes until you piece it prettily, in a way that thralls you to never shrink your eyes back into their sockets. Drunk people are like prone beehives though, so you don't prod them.

Tomorrow, you can paint her portrait, or vice versa.

“Whatever you say, newbie.”

And with the whirry crunch of the walkie shutting off, Monday, came to a close.

if you enjoyed this chapter, please lmk what you thought!! i love getting asks about my content ♡

perm taglist: @whore4abby @aouiaa @ellieslittlewhore @baumbii @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @fleshunger @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @cosmikoo @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @fairyysoiree @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @disaster-bi-suki @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @ellieswh0r3 @beemillss @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @slynxs @maleelee @savannahsdeath @littlegingerperson5 @seraphicsentences series taglist: @tearouthearts @planetloverr @elliesexual @isitadinosaur @eveshyper @3lli3l0v3r @yourmothersfavgirl @emst4rr @theloserqueen @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @whenlostinthedarkness @diddiqueen @deliriousrn

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zapreportsblog · 7 months

Text

❝corny lines wins the girl❞

✭ pairing : rory keaner x reader

✭ fandom : my babysitters a vampire

✭ summary : sure rory’s looks changed since becoming a vampire, he’s got a bit more muscular and he grew a few inches but he was still the same the old geeky rory, a bad flirt with even worse pick up lines, turns out some people are into that kinda thing.

✭ authors note : i definitely had a crush on this boy back when I watched disney

Rory Keaner had always been the quintessential nerd. With his mop of unruly brown hair, glasses that constantly slid down his nose, and an obsession with all things sci-fi and fantasy, he was a familiar face at Whitechapel High School. But there was something different about him now, something that caught the attention of his best friends, Ethan and Benny.

Since being turned into a vampire, Rory had undergone some changes. He'd grown a few inches taller, and his once lanky frame had filled out with a hint of muscle. He still wore his nerdy graphic tees and carried around his trusty backpack filled with books, but there was an air of confidence about him that hadn't been there before. Vampirism had its perks, it seemed.

One sunny morning, as Rory, Ethan, and Benny made their way through the crowded school halls, a hush fell over the students. Heads turned, and whispers of excitement rippled through the crowd. Rory followed their gazes and froze in his tracks.

There, standing near the lockers, was a girl he had never seen before. Her name was (Y/N), and she was a vision of beauty. Long, flowing hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that seemed like it belonged in a fashion magazine. Her eyes sparkled with an indescribable allure, and her smile could have lit up the darkest of nights.

Rory's heart skipped a beat as he watched her. He couldn't tear his eyes away. She was the kind of girl who seemed to belong to a different world, a world far removed from the one he inhabited. But that didn't stop him from hoping.

Ethan and Benny exchanged knowing glances, and Benny couldn't help but tease his friend. "Rory, buddy, I hate to break it to you, but she's way out of your league."

Ethan nodded in agreement. "Yeah, man, she's like a movie star or something. What chance do you think you have?"

Rory couldn't help but smile, a newfound determination in his eyes. "You'll never get anywhere in life if you don't try," he said with a shrug. "Besides, you never know until you take a chance."

With that, he walked over towards (Y/N), determined to introduce himself and see where this unexpected encounter might lead.

Rory took a deep breath and leaned casually against the locker next to (Y/N)'s. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this, but there was a newfound confidence coursing through his veins. Clearing his throat nervously, he turned to her and flashed a somewhat awkward smile.

"Hey there," he began, trying to sound smooth but failing slightly. "I'm Rory. Rory Keaner."

(Y/N) looked at him, her lips curling into a faint smile as she glanced up from her book. "Nice to meet you, Rory. I'm (Y/N)."

Rory's heart raced, but he pressed on, determined not to back down now. He took a deep breath and delivered a classic, albeit corny, pickup line, "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

(Y/N) chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "No," she replied with a playful smirk. "But I did cut up my hands and knees a bit crawling up from hell."

Rory grinned, relieved that she was playing along. "Well," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "that must be why my heart's on fire for you."

(Y/N) burst into laughter, her melodious giggles filling the hallway. It was a response Rory hadn't expected, but it was music to his ears. He couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness at her reaction.

"You certainly have a way with words, Rory," (Y/N) said, still laughing. "I have to admit, that was a good comeback."

Rory blushed, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with his vampire abilities. "Thanks," he stammered, trying to regain his composure. "So, do you come here often? I mean, to this locker, I mean...not that I'm stalking you or anything!"

(Y/N) laughed again, this time more gently. "No worries, Rory. I just moved here, so this is my first day. I guess we're locker neighbors now."

Rory's heart soared. He couldn't believe his luck. "Well, in that case, welcome to Whitechapel High, (Y/N). If you ever need help finding your way around or just someone to talk to, I'm your guy."

(Y/N) smiled warmly at him, and for a brief moment, the bustling school hallway faded away, leaving just the two of them. It was the start of something new, and Rory couldn't wait to see where this unexpected encounter would lead.

Rory's world seemed to revolve around (Y/N) from the moment they met. Fate, or perhaps a dash of daring, had brought them together, and he couldn't have been happier. In the days that followed their first encounter, Rory found himself sitting next to (Y/N) in most of their classes. He was determined to make her smile, even if it meant bombarding her with corny pickup lines.

In their English class, he leaned over and whispered, "Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you're Cu-Te."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips. "Well, you must be a vampire because that line was pretty dead," she replied, her tone teasing.

Rory couldn't help but chuckle at her clever response. He wasn't used to someone who could match his wit. Meanwhile, Ethan or Benny, who happened to be in the same class, watched the exchange in disbelief. They couldn't understand how their nerdy friend had become so bold and charming.

During chemistry, Rory leaned closer and said, "If you were a compound, you'd be sodium chloride because you're salty but essential."

(Y/N) laughed softly, shaking her head. "Nice try, but I think I'd be more like helium. Rare, mysterious, and you can never really hold onto it."

Ethan or Benny, depending on the class, nudged Rory and whispered, "Dude, I can't believe you're doing this. And she's actually enjoying it!"

Rory gave a proud, albeit somewhat smug, grin as he continued his pursuit. In history class, he leaned over again and asked, "Do you believe in time travel? Because every time I look at you, time seems to stand still."

(Y/N) let out a small giggle. "Well, good sir, you may have just created a time paradox."

As the school days passed, the playful banter between Rory and (Y/N) continued. It was a unique connection that neither of them had expected. Rory found himself looking forward to each class they shared, eager to see what clever retort Y/N would come up with next.

Ethan and Benny remained astonished by the transformation of their friend, unable to believe how he had captured the attention and humor of such an enchanting girl. It was as if Rory had found his own magical potion, and it came in the form of witty pickup lines and a girl who appreciated them.

#x reader #x reader one shot #x reader oneshot #rory keaner #rory keaner x reader #rory keaner x you #rory keaner x y/n #rory keaner imagine #rory keaner imagines #my babysitters a vampire x reader #my babysitter's a vampire #my babysitters a vampire #my babysitters a vampire x you #my babysitters a vampire x y/n #my babysitters a vampire imagine #my babysitters a vampire imagines

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jeonride · 10 months

Text

welcome to my reading list of minghao ficts!i'm actually so sad that i can't find more...

FICTS ! ✧*。

Avant-Garde (fluff, college au, painter!hao) by @hoyoungy

Glacial Pace (smut, friends to lovers) by @wonusite

Home Yet? (smut, established relationship) by @idyllicdeco

Felix Felicis (fluff, slytherin!minghao) by @blue-jisungs

Rush Hour (smut, enemies to lovers) by @lovelyhan

Attracted to You (smut) by @cheolhub

All Mine (smut) by @cheolhub

F* Me, Emo Boy (smut) @sunnylovespickles

Chèrie (smut, duke!minghao) by @venerex

Art Project (smut, fluff) by @1-800-hwahui

Monitor Me (smut, camboy!minghao) by @sunnylovespickles

Deadly Sin (smut, horror, demon!minghao) by @onlymingyus

Longing of a Noble's Daughter (smut, angst, royal au) by @sunnylovespickles

Oh, My! (smut) by @toruro

Now or Never The Series (smut) @heartkyeom

Bloody Kisses (smut, vampire!minghao) by @duhnova

Once Bitten (smut, contains blood) by @sluttywonwoo

Blocked Contacts (fluff, jealous hao) by @jae-bummer

Kiss Me Thru The Phone (smut) by @number1mingyustan

Wild With You (smut) by @beahae

Dress, Preview (smut) by @ally-127

Erotic Humiliation (smut) by @bitchlessdino

Wildest Dreams (smut, angst, moviestar!hao) by @rubyreduji

Zen (fluff, smut) by @playmetheclassics

Coffee at Christmas (fluff, smut) by @sluttyminghao

Playing Cupid (smut) by @sluttywonwoo

04.18 am (fluff, smut, pianist!minghao) by @number1mingyustan

Fixer Upper (smut, friends to lovers) by @seungkwansphd

Tamed Studies (minghao x male!reader) @flwrboi

Paint Me in Gold (fluff, semi royal, ghost au) by @starryse

Take it Like a Good Girl (smut, ft.mingyu) by @pussy-potions

Home for The Holidays (fluff, smut) by @bangchanswolfpelt

Wrong Turn (smut, vampire!minghao) by @meltwonu

Leave it On The Runway (smut, model!hao) by @kpop-hive

Galaxies Away (romance, angst, nerd!hao) by @dianalikecats

A Thousand Words Left Unsaid (angst, heartbreak) by @twogyuu

The Party Chronicles (smut) by @bitchlessdino

Thank You (smut, ft.jun) by @peachybun-bun

DRABBLES / SCENARIOS ! ✧*。

just minghao's hands appreciation (posted by @uremoangel)

minghao de-stress you with oral (fluff, smut) by @nsfwhao

soft sex (fluff, smut) by @toruro

please (smut) by @pussy-potions

kinktober drabble (smut, minghao is a sex store worker) by @sluttyminghao

fucking + praising (fluff, smut) by @gfcheol

aftercare (nsfw-ish, soft) by @gfcheol

flying & fucking (smut) by @toruro

minghao as pussy slapper (smut) by @toruro

hard dom!hao + spanking (smut) by @onlyhuis

accidental stimulation (fluff, smut) by @wildfluwer

one more time (fluff, smut) by @onlymingyus

hao kissing your tears during sex (fluff) by @toruro

light-feather praises (nsfw) by @venerex

bedtime tea (fluff, comfort) by @venerex

how i'd do? (smut) by @onlymingyus

[20:13] (filthy, iykyk) by @trash-hours

on your knees (smut) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

passionate sex (smut) by @sluttywonwoo

slow down, look at me (smut) by @jeongwife

freakily good with his hands (smut)

corruption kink (smut) 2nd ver

fingering (smut, fluff tho)

you have to be quiet (smut)

when it's cold outside (fluff)

that's sick ! (fluff)

fucking with your hands tied (smut)

want to see cherry blossoms (fluff)

let me take care of you (fluff, comfort)

hurry up (smut, sub!minghao)

jealous sex (smut)

minghao's kinks headcanon (nsfw)

horny dom!hao (nsfw)

fucking with racer!minghao (smut)

art exhibition (smut)

a-z nsfw with minghao

drawing body paint on your thighs (nsfw)

sucking his on kitchen counter (nsfw)

daddy sugar!minghao (smut)

my muse (smut, sub!minghao)

paparazzi!minghao (smut)

smut, 3.5k- yeah, that's it.

wake up early (very fluff, also smut)

blade of hearts (smut)

butterfly (fluff, smut)

sir!minghao (smut)

last (implied mature themes)

maniac (smut)

wanna hold your hand (smut, fluff)

#minghao smut #the8 smut #the8 fluff #seventeen the8 #minghao #seventeen fanfic #reading #fic reblog

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yoon-kooks · 2 years

Text

darkroom | jjk

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, vampire!au, college!au

Summary: When you somehow end up in an advanced photography class that you definitely shouldn’t be in, you seek the help of shy nerdy boy Jeon Jungkook to preserve your 4.15 GPA. It isn’t until after you stumble upon him in the darkroom that you realize your cute little nerd is actually a super hot vampire with an icy cold stare and beautiful burgundy eyes.

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: minimal blood (just him sucking away), sex on school property, oral (f receiving), dry humping, orgasm denial, jk has dom vibes, he's an arrogant asshole at times, mention of hemophobia, switches to jk's pov 3 times

A/N: i wrote a vampire fic for jk's bday 4 years ago, and here we are again with another vampire fic;;;; enjoy!!!

“What do you mean I can’t drop a class I never signed up for?” Your head is about to explode. You’ve been fidgeting around in the most uncomfortable chair across from your counselor for what feels like ten hours, trying to get to the bottom of why you were placed into the Advanced Photography course when you have nothing to do with photography. “There has to be a way, right?”

“Sorry, this is already an under-enrolled course, which means the whole thing will have to be canceled if you or any other student drops it.” Great, he’s forcing you to stay for the sake of your professor and classmates whom you have yet to meet. That totally won't fuck up your 4.15 GPA at all.

“Okay, but I haven’t taken the prereqs for this course, and I’m not even majoring in photography.”

“Remind me what your major is again, Miss L/N.”

“Biochemistry?” You can’t even hide your disgust at this point. What an utterly useless counselor and waste of time. “Listen, I don’t mean to be rude,” (you definitely mean to be rude), “but you’re basically setting me up for failure over a dumb mistake that I didn’t make. If I don’t get accepted into med school because of this, that’s on you, sir.”

You storm out of the counseling office and make it all the way to an empty hall in the art building before breaking down into tears. It’s not fair. You’ve worked so hard to maintain your grades in the toughest of STEM courses, but this one photography class is about to fuck you straight in the ass.

You’ve never been an artsy person, which is why you’ve always stayed far, far away from anything remotely creative. The one “artsy” course you’d been forced to take as a graduation requirement was a coding design class, and it was a pain in the ass even though you came out of it with an A. But the point is, you’re not cut out for a photography class, especially not an advanced one. And it’s shitty to know that you’re stuck in one for a whole semester.

After patting your tears away, you regroup and walk into the photography room. Your counselor was right about one thing: this course is severely under-enrolled. There are more empty seats than taken ones. You count seven other students when there are supposed to be twenty. They all seem to be chummy with one another (perhaps from all those prereqs they took together), but no one even bats an eye your way, including the professor. It would’ve been great if you were allowed to drop this class and have it canceled altogether. Every single one of these assholes would have suffered the consequences instead of you.

A minute before the first class starts, a boy scurries to the corner of the room with big round glasses and the darkest eyebags you’ve ever seen. He has the look of someone who’d spent his entire high school career staying up until 2AM to study for the SATs and never quite recovered, someone who forgoes hanging out with friends to make an essay ten pages longer than it needs to be, someone who takes on multiple internships and jobs at once, someone who cries when people undermine his hard work, someone who actually gives a shit about school and his future.

You’d know. You have that same look, that same aura. No one looks at him, either.

Your internal 4.3 GPA detector is going off.

“Welcome to the fall semester of our Advanced Photography course,” your professor begins, looking around at all the empty seats. “Since we have a small class this semester, it’ll give everyone more space to learn and expand on their photography skills. Let’s start by having everyone introduce themselves one by one, and just give me a brief idea of your experience with photography.”

You tune out as the first person is introducing herself because you really couldn’t care less about any of the assholes who ignored you and clearly already think they're above you. They all say the same thing anyway, reminiscing about their past projects from other photography classes they’ve taken. Yeah, you’re still bitter about the prereqs.

When it’s your turn to introduce yourself, you say the first thing that comes to mind. “I take photos for a popular Instagram model slash influencer.”

That catches their attention. It’s not a lie, either. Your 3-year-old black cat has 40,000 followers and over a dozen sponsorships with brands like Greenies, Chewy, and even your local coffee shop. Her passive income is what’s putting you through school right now. And you can’t let all her hard-earned money go to waste by failing this photography class.

“What kind of camera and equipment have you used for your Instagram photos?” your professor asks. It’s a valid question, but you hate her for asking it anyway.

“My phone,” you say in the tiniest voice. That earns you a few chuckles and plenty of eyerolls, and it kind of hurts your feelings. You want to disappear. If anyone asks who your model is, you’re going to run out of the room and drop out of school altogether. Your Instagram-famous kitty will support you financially for a while until you can secure a STEM job that can overlook your dropout status.

The only person not ridiculing you is the boy you thoroughly judged and profiled for having dark circles. He introduces himself as Jeon Jungkook, someone with a few internships and a professional photoshoot under his belt. Your 4.3 GPA detector tells you he’s being modest about his experience and achievements, though. His voice is soft, and he’s terrible at making eye contact, but something about him is comforting. Maybe it’s that his presence makes you feel as though you aren’t the only outcast in the room.

As your professor is busy lending out very expensive-looking cameras and a shit ton of equipment to each student, you investigate the camera you were given. Your lack of camera knowledge is so bad that you don’t even know how to turn it on, or if cameras like this even have power buttons. In the end, you just look like a boomer who can’t figure out how to turn off their iPhone. You’re overwhelmed by unfamiliarity while everyone else treats it like it’s second nature.

You’ve always been the one to reach out and help others in your STEM classes. But in photography, you’re the one in need of help, and you don’t know how to ask for it from people who probably don’t give a shit about you.

Oh no. You feel the tears coming back.

“So… who’s the Instagram model you take photos for?” Your back arches up like a cornered cat until your mind processes who that soft voice belongs to. You turn your head to Jungkook standing there with the round glasses and dark circles and a lot more piercings than you’d expect from someone who most likely carries a 4.3 GPA. Damn, you really need to stop profiling people like that.

“Her name is Stella.” You pull out your phone, open the app, and hand it off to your curious classmate. Showing him your collection of cat photos is only slightly less embarrassing than explaining it with words.

“She’s cute…” he says as he scrolls through the chaotic adventures of Stella the cat. His thumb pauses over a post of her loafing and blepping. The photo quality and composition might not be up to the standards of this advanced class, but at least you can say you have an adorable kitty companion on your side. “You really don’t have any other experience with camerawork?”

You shake your head. “I literally know nothing about photography, and I’m not even supposed to be in this class, but my counselor won’t let me drop it because he’s a dipshit.”

“What was the reason he gave?”

“He said if one student drops the course, the whole thing would have to be canceled due to under-enrollment as if that would guilt-trip me into staying. Not that he even gave me a choice.”

Jungkook’s big eyes spot the tear about to fall down your cheek. You blink it away as fast as you can. The last thing you want is to look pitiful in front of another classmate. School is where you’re supposed to thrive, not be defeated.

“Anyway, thank you for letting me rant.” You give the boy a half-smile as you pack the camera back into its bag. You’ll have to watch some TikTok tutorials later. Especially since your very helpful professor has just handed out your first assignment to take a photo of “something cool” and make a print in “The Darkroom,” whatever the heck that is. You’re pretty sure it has to do with the occult club, and everyone else in the room is in on the joke except for you. Because you’re the only student who didn’t have the luxury of learning about The Darkroom in the beginner-friendly photography courses. Those damn prereqs.

But maybe, with Jungkook here, you don’t have to go through this shitty class alone.

Just as you’re about to leave the photography room with all your equipment, you turn to Jungkook who also has his mouth open with something to say.

Jungkook’s POV

You were definitely about to cry. And as much as Jungkook would rather not get involved with a cuter-than-average human, you’re exactly what he’s weak to. Especially when you have that tiny sparkle in your eyes—not the sparkle from the tears but from the passion you have for school. Your counselor really screwed you over for no reason, and Jungkook just wishes you didn’t have to suffer the consequences. You don’t deserve that.

He’ll help you so you won’t have to cry anymore. All he has to do is scare that dipshit counselor a little—perhaps drain him of his blood until he agrees to wipe the class from your schedule… or he could stand in solidarity with you and threaten to drop the course as well. He’ll go with whatever seems more convincing.

“Um, Jungkook?” Shit. Your voice is so sweet like honey. He’d really like to taste you right about now. But he can’t. That would be inappropriate.

Jungkook nods slowly, still very much entranced by your beauty and innocence. He can’t even look you in the eye. If he did, you’d surely notice how red his irises are turning with lust.

“If it’s not too much trouble for you, do you think you could help me pass this class?” You look so weak and vulnerable like you’re being a bother to him for asking for help. You’re probably not used to asking others for help because you seem like the kind of person who tends to rely on herself. “A couple of study dates might be fun.”

He bites his tongue as his eyes travel down to the floor between you and him. How can he respond to that—to someone as cute as you? He doesn't hate the idea of study dates, but he can’t let himself do that. He’d get too carried away and end up hurting you. That’s what happens with most vampire-human relationships he’s heard of. Your blood probably tastes like sugar. You’d become his new addiction. As soon as he gets a taste, he won’t be able to resist you. That’s the power you hold over him.

“Or, I mean, they don’t have to be dates… I didn’t mean to assume you were single or interested in someone like me or—” You pause to study Jungkook’s face. He must be doing a horrible job of concealing his internal struggles. You probably think he’s a loser by now. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything. I’ll figure things out on my own.”

Your voice is shaky as you walk away. He needs to do something, anything to cheer you up. The thought of seeing you sad hurts more than a silver dagger to the heart.

“Y/N,” Jungkook finally speaks. “Which counselor rejected your request to drop the class? I just wanna talk.”

As you lay on your bed and stare at the empty wall, you don’t really know how to feel after leaving that cursed class. Jungkook said he’d state his intentions to drop the course to put more pressure on your counselor, which was a kind gesture. But the boy also rejected your study dates. And that might be what hurts most. It’s a reminder of why you shouldn’t ask others for help. You’re the only person you can truly rely on.

After spending the rest of the afternoon feeling sorry for yourself, you finally look into some photography tutorials and set up a mini photoshoot for your cat. She cooperates at first but leaves you with a big scratch on your cheek for taking too long and getting too close to her with the lens. Great, even your own cat hates you.

By the time you’ve captured enough pics, it’s already dark out and way later than you thought. That works out, though, because it’s unlikely that anyone else will be in The Darkroom at this hour. The last thing you want is for any of your classmates to see you struggling in there.

The campus is eerily empty and quiet at night, and it’s at times like this when you’re thankful your apartment is only a five-minute walk away. The art building is empty too, but it’s going to take more than all those premature Halloween decorations to scare you off. After all, this totally beats the awkwardness of running into your classmates.

You hum as you open the door to The Darkroom. As one would expect, The Darkroom is quite dark. The red lighting screams occult club, but maybe that’s just you and your ignorance of both photography and the supernatural. Everything is fine until you hear a few things being knocked over. You’re not alone after all.

“Sorry, I didn’t know someone was in here. I’ll come back later,” you say without seeing which classmate it is. You suppose you can kill time by doing your daily Wordle on the bench in the halls. In honor of the premature Halloween decor surrounding you, your starter word will be “blood.” But before you can make a u-turn, you hear a voice that’s both familiar and different at the same time.

“I’m done in here. You can use it.” The voice exudes confidence and mystery in a way that’s luring you in. You step inside and see two glowing eyes staring back at you. The lighting makes them look almost burgundy.

“Wait, I didn’t just crash an occult club meeting, did I?” You probably did. That’s the only logical explanation (besides the lighting) for this person’s glowing red eyes. He could be cosplaying as a vampire for all you know. Apparently everyone is celebrating Halloween early this year.

“What?” he asks with a hint of amusement in his tone.

You walk further and further into The Darkroom until you can finally see who you’re talking to.

“Oh, it’s just you.” You breathe a sigh of relief. It’s just Jungkook. If it had been a cosplayer from the occult club or anyone else from your class, you would’ve opted for Wordle in a heartbeat. “For a second, I thought the occult club was doing their thing in here.”

“Their thing?” The boy’s brow piercing lifts. It takes a second for you to notice he isn’t wearing those cute round glasses, and you almost confuse his lip ring for a fang. His hand is also covered in tattoos that you’re 99% sure weren’t there before. He looks so different in this lighting.

“You know, like summoning demons, talking to ghosts. Stuff like that,” you hum, walking around The Darkroom like you understand what any of that equipment is used for.

“Or hunting vampires?” he plays along.

“Exactly,” you laugh. God, he’s so cute and definitely your type. It’s a shame your study date idea got shot down.

As soon as you make your way back around, you catch Jungkook staring at you, almost shamelessly. It’s a lot different from how he avoided eye contact with everyone during class.

“What happened here?” He points to his cheek, mirroring the spot where Stella the cat had her big meltdown. You're surprised he can see the cut in such shitty lighting without his glasses.

“My cat lashed out at me during our mini photoshoot. Are all models such divas?” As ridiculous as it sounds, that’s the direction your life is going in right now. If you can’t get into med school because of this whole debacle, you’ll be stuck as your feisty cat’s photographer for the rest of your life.

Jungkook narrows the gap between you and him until you can see the tiniest features on his face, like the cute little dot hiding in the shadow of his lower lip. The back of your thighs hit the counter as he cups your chin in his tattooed hand. His icy touch gives you goosebumps. The Darkroom suddenly feels too small to hold the both of you, like you’ll suffocate if you stay in there. You should probably leave, but something about the boy is enticing you to stay.

“It’s dangerous, you know. Letting your cat scratch you like that,” he whispers against your cheek. Despite how cold he may be, you feel your whole face heating up with him so close to you. The fact that he’s worried about a tiny cat scratch is so fucking endearing. You didn’t know such a boy existed.

“Yeah, it’s kind of unsanitary when their litter box claws cut into our skin like that, but I’m used to it,” you shrug.

“But you’re bleeding.” Jungkook’s burgundy eyes follow your thumb as you swipe it over the scratch. The wound does still feel a bit fresh.

“A little bit of blood won’t hurt anybody. Unless they have hemophobia.” It suddenly occurs to you that the boy might not fare well at the sight of blood. “Ah shit, do you have hemophobia?” you ask with the most concerned look on your face.

The boy shakes his head. “A vampire wouldn’t last long if they were scared of blood.”

He grabs ahold of your wrist and brings your hand up to his parted lips. Your thumb grazes the metal ring around his lip and then the sharp tips of his canines. His tongue caresses your thumb until there’s no more blood for him to taste.

Your head is spinning as he lets go of your wrist. You don’t need a biochemistry degree or an occult club membership to know that the boy pinning you against the counter isn’t human. And the cutie you met earlier with the round glasses is someone much darker and more mysterious than you could’ve ever imagined.

“Are you really a vampire?” you ask, looking right into those bloodstained eyes of his. You really hope so. A vampire would be a lot more socially acceptable than, say, a demon.

“Why don’t you test your theory?” Jungkook pulls the camera out of your bag and hands it to you. “Vampires supposedly don’t show up in photos, right?”

He’s not wrong, but you aren’t trying to waste any more time with that cursed film camera. Instead, you pull out your phone and—

“Hey, no cheating.” He snatches the phone from your grip and hands you back the cursed cam. You swipe your paw at him in hopes of reclaiming your phone, but he pulls it just out of your reach. Why is he being a dick all of a sudden? You liked him better when he was all shy and cute with the round glasses. But you suppose that was just a facade to distract people from what he actually is. “I’ll help you develop your film and make your print. Unless you were planning on going to TikTok for help.”

He’s not wrong, again. You did watch at least twenty photography TikToks with your cat before coming here, and even then, you’re not super confident about pulling the whole thing off without any mistakes.

“Okay fine,” you sigh, snapping a shot without even looking through the viewfinder. For a second, the alleged vampire looks like a deer in headlights.

“You do realize the lighting is practically nonexistent in here, right?” Unimpressed, Jungkook pulls you into the photography room across the hall and turns on the light. You squint the same way your cat does when you wake her up in the middle of the night to catch the creepy crawlies in your room. “And let me make sure your camera settings aren’t all fucked up.”

Once your eyes are finally adjusted, you get a better look at the boy fixing your camera. The red in his eyes isn’t as intense now, but they’re still really pretty. His hair is all ruffled in a super sexy way as opposed to the neatly combed style he had earlier in class. And all those hand tattoos make you wonder if there’s a whole sleeve of ink hidden beneath his shirt.

If he was cute as a button before, he’s hot as hell now.

“If you’re done drooling over me, you can take the picture now.” He takes his seat in the corner of the room and rests his legs on top of the desk like a gigachad. His icy stare into the camera is the icing on the cake. Turns out he’s good at modeling too.

“I wasn’t drooling over you,” you hiss. If he teases you one more time, you’re gonna lose it.

“Sorry, I meant eye-fucking me,” he hums as if that’s less of an insult. Whatever. You have to remind yourself that this arrogant boy is the key to passing this class. You can’t get into a scrap with him now or else your 4.15 GPA is as good as gone.

When the impromptu shoot is over, you have a decent amount of film ready to be developed. Hopefully Jungkook shows up in the prints whether or not he’s a vampire because you put a lot of thought into each composition. You’d also secretly want to keep the best one for your eyes only because that boy is truly a work of art. He may or may not be your new guilty pleasure.

Back in The Darkroom, Jungkook goes through the process with you step by step. He clarifies a lot of small details that your TikToks missed, like when you ask about the parts that need to be done in total darkness vs the red safelight. And he’s actually good at explaining it in a way that appeals to your scientist brain with all the chemicals and variables involved. He’d make a fantastic professor whom you wouldn’t mind bothering during office hours.

“We’ll let the film dry overnight and do the prints tomorrow,” the boy says as he gathers up his stuff and throws his jacket back on. Tomorrow? It’s a little concerning that you didn’t know this would be a two-day process.

“So I won’t know if you’re a vampire until tomorrow?” You’d like to know asap so you can rule out demon as a possibility because demons are kind of freaky. Although you’re sure Jungkook would find a way to make demons as seductive as vampires.

“Or I can answer your question right now.” He strides over to you and presses his lips into the nape of your neck. The way he sucks on your skin is delicate enough not to leave a mark but strong enough to send a naughty little signal down to the spot between your legs. “I’m told I’m not very gentle, though.”

Rough. He’s rough. And he could be rough with you. You wish you weren’t so turned on by that thought. This handsome vampire boy is really stirring the pot in that sacred section of your brain where all your sexual fantasies are stored away.

“I can wait until tomorrow,” you say before you can change your mind. No one said it would turn into sex (except for your dirty little mind), but now you’re curious to know what vampire sex might entail. Maybe it’s better than anything you’ve experienced.

“It’s better I leave before you tempt me with your other cat scratches, anyway. Specifically the ones on your thighs,” he says, ushering you out of The Darkroom and toward the exit of the art building. You’d like to know how he knows you have cat scratches on your thighs. Either vampire noses are extremely sensitive to blood, he has x-ray vision, or he’s aware of The Feline Urge to jump into your lap and knead your thighs with those tiny little claws.

It’s much chillier outside now than it had been when you first arrived on campus. You didn’t think to bring a jacket, so you hug your camera bag in hopes that it’ll keep you warm on your walk home.

“Humans are so weak to the cold. It’s pathetic,” the boy says as if he doesn’t have any weaknesses of his own. Garlic? Silver? You make a note to yourself to compile a list of everything vampires might be weak to as soon as you get home. But instead of walking off like you’d expected him to do, he waits around and asks if you live nearby.

Jungkook’s POV

He should’ve just kept his mouth shut and let you walk home by yourself in the dark on this chilly autumn night. That’s what any other rational vampire would have done. After all, vampires know better than to get involved with humans. It’s statistically proven that humans are safer without vampires around. By that logic, you would’ve been better off walking home alone.

But he would never live it down if something bad happened to you on your way home. It doesn’t matter that it’s just a five-minute walk. Besides, you looked so fragile and needy the way you clung to your camera bag for warmth.

So after shedding his jacket off and throwing it over your shivering shoulders, Jungkook finds himself walking you home. The five-minute walk isn’t unpleasant, either. He learns that you’re a biochemistry major hoping to get into a good med school, though he doesn’t think it should be an issue for someone as bright as you. You also talk a lot about your cat Stella and all her little antics and how you firmly believe that black cats are good luck instead of bad. He’s never considered himself much of a cat person, but that tiny sparkle in your eye is making him reconsider everything. Maybe he’ll visit the animal shelter tomorrow (just to browse!) or spend the rest of the night watching cat TikToks.

The most intriguing part is that, even though you suspect he’s not human, you haven’t treated him any differently. Typically, when humans learn of his vampire roots, they either freak out or ask too many questions pertaining to Twilight. You, on the other hand, make him feel like less of an alien and more like a boy you have a crush on. And that’s something he hasn’t felt for as long as he can remember.

As the two of you reach the door to your apartment, you hand the jacket back to him and pause before heading in.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say in the most angelic voice. “For helping me with the assignment and walking me home and not letting me freeze.”

“No problem.” That’s not entirely true. There’s definitely one problem he can think of. Now that he knows where you live, there’s little stopping him from knocking on your door like a pathetic lost puppy whenever he’s craving your taste. He’s already struggling to control himself around you as it is. He would have bitten straight into your neck and sapped you of your sweet syrupy blood if you hadn't said you were fine with waiting to see what the prints show. Curse you and your patience.

A meow and some scratches from inside prompt you to open the door. Your eager little kitty completely ignores you and circles Jungkook like a shark. Her tail is extra bushy as she rubs her face against his leg.

“Does that mean she likes me?” he asks. He knows about cat language as much as you know about photography—not much at all.

“She likes you more than she likes me,” you say, wiping away a fake tear as you step through the doorway. “C’mon Stella, we have to let Uncle Jungkook go home now.”

Still ignoring you, Stella stretches her arms up Jungkook’s leg. He quickly picks up on the cue to lift her and cradle her like a baby. The warmth of the cat is soothing against his cold vampire body.

“She wants to come home with me.” His lips curve upward ever so slightly as the sleepy kitty purrs against his chest. If a seven-pound cat can emit this much warmth in his arms, he has much to look forward to when you and him—No, no. He shouldn’t be thinking with his cock at a wholesome time like this.

“Fine, you can be her new photographer. See if I care,” you say with a faux hmph. Two seconds later, you’re desperately trying to pry the stubborn Stella out of Jungkook’s arms. And although you eventually get the cat back, she flails around in your arms for the remainder of the farewells.

“It was nice meeting you, Stella,” Jungkook says, waving goodbye as he reverses out of your doorway and heads toward his apartment. “Oh, and Y/N, keep the vampire thing between you and me.”

“Sure, I won’t tell anyone,” you call out to him. He knew he could count on you to be a good girl. “But only if you agree to go on some study dates with me.”

Fuck. He should have known you’d put conditions on it. He already rejected your study dates once, but things have changed since then. He’d been scared of losing control and hurting you if he got too close to you, but you showed him that sparkle in your eye and now he’s committed to helping you succeed in any way possible. Even if that means going on a few study dates with you. He just has to learn how to keep his blood and sex cravings in check.

“Fine,” he says.

@jjk817263: Hey, meet me outside the art building in 20 minutes so we can finish your prints.

@fairycatstella: sorry stella isnt taking on any more sponsorship requests at this time thank you

@jjk817263: No, no. I’m not a company contacting you about a sponsorship. It’s Jeon Jungkook. From your Advanced Photography class? The one with the glasses. I helped you develop your film in the darkroom.

You burst out laughing at your phone screen. Even after the night you spent with him in The Darkroom, he really thinks you’ve forgotten about him already. He’s as awkward online as he is during class with the round glasses. Except you don’t think he’s just pretending to be awkward right now. It’s kind of cute to see him squirm.

@fairycatstella: youre seriously asking me out on our first study date by sliding into my cat’s DMs??

@jjk817263: You didn’t give me your number.

@fairycatstella: you didnt ask for it! smh

@jjk817263: Whatever. Stop calling it a study date or I’ll suck you dry🧛

@fairycatstella: you dont scare me btw

@fairycatstella: unless youre actually a demon. demons are 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

@jjk817263: What’s wrong with demons? What’d they ever do to you?

@fairycatstella: have you ever seen demon slayer

@jjk817263: Yeah, I’ve seen some demon slayers in my days.

@fairycatstella: 👁👄👁

@fairycatstella: nvm we can watch it together on another date. it’s good but too scary to watch alone

@jjk817263: I swear if you call it a date one more time, I’ll call up all my demon buddies and you can host a watch party with them.

@fairycatstella: DATE💋

You smile to yourself like an idiot. As much as you’d like to tease him about his cute little “threats,” you have a study date to get ready for.

When you arrive on campus, you immediately spot the boy with round glasses leaning against the concrete structure just outside the art building. It’s still early in the day, which probably explains why his dark circles are so prominent. That doesn’t make him any less cute, though.

“Hey,” you say, tapping on his shoulder. He looks up from his phone and nods, barely acknowledging your existence. Wow, you can’t believe you made an effort to look cute in your corduroy dress only for him to give you the cold shoulder. Literally. You suppose that’s where the expression comes from. “Ready for our study date?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes at the taboo phrase.

“Ready to meet my demon friends? I have a lot of them, you know. And they’re always hungry. That watch party isn’t going to be so fun when you see your grocery bill,” he throws back at you. He’s serious about it, too.

“Oh no, that’s absolutely terrifying,” you snicker. You honestly don’t care what kind of wholesome threats Jungkook comes up with next. Sounds like he wouldn’t harm a fly, like he’d catch it and release it outside instead of swatting it against the wall. So yeah. You’re going to keep calling it a study date until he completely loses it, bites you, and introduces you to the forbidden concept of angry vampire sex.

He shuts his eyes, rubs his temples, and mutters something along the lines of, “for fucks sake,” as he drags you into The Darkroom.

As soon as the two of you step inside, Jungkook removes the round glasses. His dark circles slowly start to disappear as the red deepens in his eyes. His tattoos creep onto his skin like they’re drawing themselves in. What a beautifully mysterious creature he is.

You’re suddenly reminded of something worth mentioning. “I’ve been meaning to ask why you downplay your appearance so much with other people.” Or whenever he’s not alone with you. You get that the darkness plays a role in altering a few of his physical features, but no one’s forcing him to wear those glasses.

“You mean why I look like the nerdy kid sitting on a 4.3 GPA?” It’s as if he can read your mind. Maybe that’s one of his vampire powers.

You nod, although you don’t mean it as an insult the way it came off when he said it.

“So people don’t ask me out on study dates.” He cocks his head with a smirk. Oh boy, he really knows how hot he is and how many people would ask him out if he looked like this all the time. He’s like the opposite of a catfish, except his “nerdy kid sitting on a 4.3 GPA” look was still cute enough to bait you into asking him out.

“What do you have against dates?”

He shrugs. As much as he likes to complain about study dates, he’s pretty quiet now.

Ah, shit. Maybe he’s aromantic and you overstepped. Or maybe he’s just not interested in you. Fuck.

To fill the silence, you start on the next steps in making your prints, whatever those might be. You must look like a lost lamb because you’re pacing back and forth holding things and not knowing what to do with them. Thankfully, the boy steps in to guide you the rest of the way. Crisis avoided.

As your first print sits in the developer solution, you watch the shape of the boy’s body fade onto the page—his hands clasped behind his head, his legs propped up on the desk, and his gorgeous eyes that still pierce through you in black and white. You should’ve guessed he’d show up in the print, considering you did see him in the tiny negatives that developed last night. Still, it’s not like you knew at which point vampires were supposed to magically disappear in the photography process.

Does that mean he’s not a vampire after all?

“Still drooling over me, huh?” Jungkook says as he monitors his own print soaking in the solution. His photo looks like a small pond, but it’s hard to make out anything beyond that until it develops more. “Don’t forget to move the print to the next solution.”

You do as you’re told and move your print into the stop bath. Perhaps you’re a little biased, but your photo of the boy looks like it’s coming out pretty well, composition and all. Or maybe he’s just handsome enough to make any lackluster photo into something extraordinary. It’s probably a mix of both.

After letting your print sit in the stop bath and fixer solutions, you admire the finished product of your first attempt at traditional photography. Okay, yes, Jeon Jungkook is really, really hot, and he photographs well. You’ve already established that fifty times by now. But you’re also proud that you made some creative decisions and didn’t fuck it up the way you’d been half expecting. Maybe this advanced photography class won’t be the bane of your existence after all. And at the very least, you’ll come out of this class with some eye candy decor to liven up your minimalist bedroom.

“The whole thing about vampires and photos is just a myth, you know.” Jungkook walks over to your station and points at himself on your print. “I can confirm that this guy you’re drooling over is really a vampire.”

You nod, relieved that he’s not an evil demon prince or anything scary like that. At this point, it would’ve been a bit of a letdown if it turned out he wasn’t a vampire. It also puts your mind at ease to know there’s some sort of explanation for his fetish with your cat scratches, even if it’s not a scientific one.

The thought of vampire sex doesn’t even cross your mind. Until it does. For some reason, you imagine that cute boy with the round glasses losing himself in a desperate lust and longing for your body after getting the tiniest taste of your blood. You hope he’s as rough as they say he is.

To distract yourself from those wildly inappropriate thoughts, you look through your strips of film for more photos to print. You pick the one you took of your cat just before she pounced at you and another of the vampire that focuses on the details of his hand tattoos.

While you process those prints one by one, you examine Jungkook’s completed pond print. It gives off quiet, cozy vibes with a family of ducks out for a swim and a couple sitting in the grass with their sketchbooks out. How do you know they’re a couple? You don’t, but that’s the assumption from the onlooker's point of view. And it’s a tender moment that you wouldn’t expect from a guy who acts like dates are taboo.

“This might be a dumb question, but can vampires feel things in a romantic sense?” You really hope the question doesn’t come off as insensitive in any way. But you’re curious to know more. After all, he’s still very much a mystery to you.

Jungkook nods. “Unfortunately, yeah. We can feel whatever humans feel. Less of some things, like the cold. And more of other things.”

Heartbreak. You wonder if heartbreak is to blame for his dark response to your question and his distaste for dates.

“You asked what I have against dates,” he continues as you move your cat print from one solution to the next. “I don’t have anything against them. I just avoid them to avoid feeling certain feelings.”

“You don’t want to feel romantic feelings?” You finish the cat print and start on the one with Jungkook’s hand tattoos.

“It’s complicated for vampires.” He frowns at your cat print. It’s a cute pic of Stella’s dilated pupils, but the blurriness isn’t going to work for your assignment. You suppose you’ll just hang it up next to your eye candy decor. “And it’s especially complicated when said vampires let themselves fall for humans. You look like the kind of person who’s seen all the Twilight movies ten times, but you don’t need to be a diehard fan to realize the consequences of that sort of relationship.”

Perhaps he’s afraid of endangering the human he falls in love with. You don’t exactly know how much self-control vampires have over their lust for blood, but regardless, it’s in their nature to prey on humans. By avoiding close interactions with humans (ie. your bothersome study dates), nobody catches feelings, and nobody gets hurt. If you had to guess, that’s the reason why Jungkook tries to be so distant and cold with you. Because if he outright hated you, he wouldn’t waste his time guiding you through the basics of photography.

“First of all, how dare you profile me and assume I’ve watched the Twilight movies ten times.” You’ve actually seen them over twenty times each, but who’s counting? “Second of all, is the Volturi coming for us? Don’t answer that. And lastly, does a relationship really have to be off the table for you?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “It’s situational.”

That’s true. You can’t always control how you feel or who you fall in love with, no matter how hard you try not to. But that’s all you really needed to hear from him—assurance that he’d give love a chance if that’s where his heart’s pointing him.

“Anyway,” he says, clearly ready to change the topic. You barely hear him because you’re busy humming away as you pull your last print from the fixer solution. “You look awfully happy making all those prints.”

“I think I finally got the hang of it.” You glance at the hand tattoo print and decide to submit that one for the class assignment. You captured the details of his tattoos pretty well, and the exposure is just right. It also helps that Jungkook’s face is out of frame so that your classmates can’t start any rumors. Mission accomplished.

“Weren’t you crying just yesterday about not being able to drop this class?” he teases you. You knew it. He’d seen the tears you tried to blink away, he’d heard your cry for help when you ranted to him about your dipshit counselor, and he did what he could to help you find your footing again after you’d hit rock bottom.

“That was before you agreed to my study dates,” you remind him. “Before you helped me realize I’m not actually terrible at photography.”

“So you’re saying I threatened your counselor into letting you drop the class for nothing?”

“You got him to change his mind?” Your eyes widen. Who would’ve thought that worthless counselor would have a change of heart. “What’d you threaten him with? A tea party with the boys?”

“The boys?”

“Your hungry demon buddies, obviously. I’m sure they’d love some biscuits and scones.”

“They prefer meat, actually. The expensive kind,” he plays along to your banter. “Are you taking notes for your grocery run before the big watch party?”

As much as you’d love to conquer your fear of demons, you don’t want a big watch party. You want it to be just you and him—a party of two that involves minimal watching and lots of touching.

“Well, regardless of your method, thank you for dealing with that headache of a counselor for my sake,” you say. He didn’t have to do that for you nor did he have to teach you everything you know about photography. But he did, and that means the world to you. He might act all cold and arrogant sometimes, but you know he’s still as caring as the bespectacled cutie you first met in class.

“So what’s the verdict? Are you gonna drop the class or stick around?”

“I would have dropped it,” you start off. If not for a certain vampire, you’d be running down to the counseling office as fast as you can to banish that class from your schedule. But since Jungkook’s willing to keep up these study dates for the rest of the semester, you’d like to think you can pass the class without jeopardizing your chances of getting into a good med school. You’re sure your cat’s influencer status will also benefit from all the photo tips and tricks you’ll learn along the way. “But right now, you’re giving me every reason to stay.”

“Good.” He eyes you up and down, more so out of admiration than lust. Looks like your efforts to look cute are paying off after all. “You’re the only one I can tolerate in that class.”

“Aww, you’d be lonely without me?” you tease with a big fat smile on your face.

“I didn’t say that.” Deny, deny, deny. You don’t buy it anyway. “It’d be a lot more boring, though. That’s for sure.”

Jungkook steps closer until you can feel the chill of his body robbing you of your warmth. He pulls the prints out of your hands and tosses them aside onto the counter behind you. With your hands now free to roam, you slide them up to his neck and comb them through the stubborn tuft of hair sticking up. His eyes are the reddest you’ve seen them. That’s not all, though. Under the red lights, everything feels more intense—the intimacy, the temptation, and the kind of danger you aren’t afraid to explore.

He slips the strap of your dress off your shoulder and strokes his thumb against a sensitive spot along the nape of your neck. The chills you get from his cold touch fuel the heat down below, right between your legs. You’re curious to know how good it’d feel to have his icy fingers all over your hot little pussy. Amazing, probably.

You feel something sharp and jagged graze your skin like a cat claw when Stella paws you politely for attention. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s also not cutting into your skin at all. The boy pulls back for a second to hold your gaze.

“It’ll hurt a lot more than a cat scratch, you know.”

“More than a cat bite, too?”

“Yes.”

“More than a lip piercing?”

“Yes.”

“More than a tat—”

“Y/N,” he puts an end to your rambling. You only shut up because you like the way it sounds when he says your name. “It’s painful, and I’m not just saying that to scare you. I won’t do it if—”

“I’ll be okay,” you assure him. You may or may not have cried once when your cat bit your toe in her teething days, but he doesn’t need to know that. The last thing you want to do is chase away the boy who’d avoided close human interactions up until this point.

He nods before spinning you around and pinning you against the counter with your ass facing him. You tilt your head to the side and let him grope one of your breasts from behind as he finds that sweet spot on your neck once more. Your grip around his arm tightens in anticipation.

Before you know it, all you feel is a rush of pain. The kind of pain you’d imagine if your cat evolved into a saber-toothed tiger and made you her next meal. You can’t tell if it’s his fangs sinking deeper into your skin or the rapid draining of your blood that hurts more. The boy bites down harder, and a whimper escapes your throat against your will. This one feels more like an injection with the fattest needle the doctor can find. A different sensation from pain quickly invades your body. It’s burning with intensity.

The two holes in your neck suddenly feel hollow as the boy pulls back to check on you. You look over your shoulder. His eyes are wide with concern, and his lips are beautifully plump and drenched in your blood. It looks more like a sweet strawberry glaze. Is it bad that you want him to kiss you with those lips?

“You okay?” He wipes the blood from his mouth and licks it off his thumb before it can drip down his chin. His tongue cleans up your neck as well. To your surprise, the pain vanishes, or maybe you’re just numb to it.

You nod. You might not have been okay a few seconds ago, but you are now. Your body just feels hot. Really hot. Like if Jungkook doesn’t get you out of your dress right now, you’re going to lose it.

You spin around to face him and press your body against his. Your fists cling to his black crewneck, your eyes beg for him to undress you, your body aches to be touched.

Finally, the boy takes a hint and slips your body out of the dress. He lifts you onto the counter and stares at you in your cutest lingerie, perhaps plotting where he might bite you next. Before he can think too much about it, you throw your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

His lips collide with yours. Your tongue gets tangled with his. It’s messy, dirty, loud, but you love every second of it. Not even the hint of blood you taste can spoil the moment.

“Mm, you're driving me mad, Jeon,” you whisper down his throat as you start grinding against his crotch. That big bulge in his pant has been tempting you for far too long. You wonder if anyone’s ever been kicked out of photography class for having sex in The Darkroom. Thankfully, there’s a lock so no one can walk in while you’re being fucked on top of the counter… or while negatives and prints are being developed.

You feel his hands sneak down from your waist. The tips of his fingers loop around your panties and slip them off your booty with such finesse. You’re ready to return the favor by freeing what you assume is a nice and swollen vampire cock trapped in his tight jeans, but he keeps on going with his own agenda. You’re not complaining.

He lifts one of your legs and leaves a trail of eager kisses up your inner thigh. His lips are so soft that you almost forget about his fangs. He could very easily bite you again, but he doesn’t.

As his lips get closer to your center, you can’t stop thinking about how desperately you need his tongue to soothe the unbearable ache between your legs. You haven’t even been touched yet, but you already tell that you won’t last long.

Before he goes in for a taste, he glances up at you helplessly pleading with your eyes for him to start pleasuring you already. Your face is so flushed with heat and sex, and it’s apparently distracting enough for Jungkook to stare at for a good minute instead of touching you.

Impatient and frustrated, you move your own hand down, but you’re immediately caught. He holds your wrist with a firm grip and gives you a devilish smirk. “I want to watch you squirm some more for me.”

You knew it. He gets a real kick out of torturing you in such an aroused state. You whine like a hungry little kitten as you roll your hips out of desperation, but there’s nothing to grind against, nothing to rub away your thirst for raw and rough sex. You’re so powerless.

“Good girl.” Pleased with your behavior, the vampire licks his thumb and strokes you once between your wet folds. You cry out in pleasure with your head thrown back and almost come on the spot. That’s how well your body responds to his touch and the sound of his voice.

“More,” you beg. You’re back to square one with nothing but a soaked pussy that isn’t being tended to. Who knows how long he intends to keep toying with you like this. “Please, more.”

He throws both of your thighs over his shoulders and pulls you in by the ass until he’s got the perfect view of your poor little pussy all drenched in your own lust. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your entire life.

You admittedly have a kink for guys eating you out, but all the other guys you’ve slept with had to be convinced to test the waters (they were shitty), and a few of them didn’t even bother hiding their lack of enthusiasm (they were shittier). So the fact that Jungkook’s mouth naturally gravitates down there is not only a pleasant surprise but also a huge turn-on. You wonder if he somehow picked up on that kink of yours, or if it’s a byproduct of being a vampire who lusts after the taste of his lover.

Without warning, his tongue presses into you and flirts with that swollen aching bud of yours. You grab a fistful of the boy’s hair the way you’d be clawing bedsheets if the two of you weren’t stuck doing it on campus. God, he must be so fucking good in bed where no one has to worry about knocking over expensive photo equipment or spilling chemicals out of the trays neither of you bothered emptying before things got physical.

The first time he sucks your clit between his lips, the raw and filthy moan you let out is comparable to the moans you usually reserve for the best orgasms. That’s how fucking good his mouth feels. Hopefully, the walls can block sound as effectively as they block light.

“Don’t come yet,” he warns, still very much into your pretty little pussy. You nod submissively even though he’s far too invested in eating you out to look up. There’s something so charming about a guy who likes giving oral as much as he likes being the dominant one. Jungkook clearly knows how to do both.

You really start to come undone when he feasts on your clit like a lollipop, working his tongue and sucking at the same time. It must be the best lollipop in the world because he’s really going at it with impassioned moans and groans of his own. Hearing him enjoy it only brings you closer to hitting your high. Your eyes roll back and your lewd sounds keep leaking out of you like a broken record, as if your body has completely surrendered to the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Fuck, Jungkook, please, I—”

There’s a knock at the door.

Your whole body stiffens. You’ve never been interrupted during sex. What do people normally do? You’d ask Jungkook, but he’s still busy with your lower half. And he obviously knows there’s someone waiting outside because he snorts at the muffled gasp you almost fail to contain.

“Um, we’ll be out in a minute, sorry,” you call out in as steady of a voice as you can manage while on the verge of coming.

A second later, the boy finishes you off with a soft and sneaky bite and a whole lot of tongue to help you ride out your orgasm. It’s probably the only vampire bite that’s all pleasure and no pain. You wish all of them could be like that.

Your sex sounds would have been much louder and filthier if someone wasn’t waiting on the other side of the door, but the soft whimpering you do isn’t exactly wholesome either. Even after the pleasure fades, you need to take a moment to catch your breath and come back down to reality.

Jungkook does the same, dropping your legs from his shoulders and licking your creamy lust off his lips. He waits at the door for you to straighten up and slip your dress back on since you were the only one on the receiving end. It’s an absolute tragedy that his cock didn’t get any action, but you’re hopeful there will be a next time.

“Would you have kept going?” you ask after the two of you escape The Darkroom. He’s walking you home without even offering.

“Did it seem like I was done with you?” He narrows his eyes at your ignorance.

“No… but I mean, how much longer were you going to make me wait?” If you had to guess, you’d say he had another solid twenty minutes in him. After all, he was savoring every bit of your taste.

“That’s for you to find out next time,” he says so nonchalantly. So there definitely will be a next time. Good to know. Now you have time to mentally prepare for the long and delicious torture ahead. “You’re gonna wish someone interrupts us again.”

Sounds promising.

Jungkook’s POV

“Hey, can I tell you a secret?” you ask him with that dang sparkle in your eye. He nods, of course. “I think I enjoyed our quickie in The Darkroom more than any sex I’ve had in the bedroom.”

That’s because vampire fangs contain a special venom that temporarily enhances the sexual urges and pleasures of the humans they bite. Apparently, it brings their pleasure up to the same intensity that vampires feel (aka a lot more than the average human).

The problem is that Jungkook doesn’t know how to bring it up to you. You clearly didn’t handle the bite all that well, and he doesn’t want to sound like he’s just pressuring you into giving him your blood in exchange for a better sexual experience.

“Do the Twilight vampires have any special venom?” he asks.

“It turns humans into vampires, I think,” you shrug. “Why? Are you planning on turning me into a vampire?”

“No, no,” he waves off your valid accusation. That’s a loaded question for some other time. “The venom I injected you with—”

“You injected me with venom?”

“Yeah, but it’s harmless… kind of.” He’s digging himself into a hole. It’s probably better to just be frank. “It’s like a sex enhancer so humans can feel the same level of pleasure as us.”

“Oh.” You purse your lips in thought. Your duck face is quite adorable. “Is that why I felt so hot after you bit me?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I should’ve told you soon—”

“Wait, so are you actually bad at giving oral, but I just enjoyed it because of the sex venom?” Another valid (but rude) accusation. He can tell you’re just messing with him, though. You do this cute little nose scrunch thing whenever you’re being flirty.

“Fine, I won’t bite you next time.” All this talk about a next time. Hopefully you want a next time as much as he does. He’s already yearning for your body to be his again. “Then you can tell me how much you hate it while your wet little pussy rubs itself against my tongue and—”

“Okay, I get it. You’re a good lay with or without the sex venom,” you snicker. The way you keep referring to it as “the sex venom” is so endearing for no reason. Everything you do at this point is charming the fuck out of him. That’s how bad he has it for you, though he’d never outright admit it.

When the two of you arrive at your doorstep, Jungkook waits for you to pull out your keys and say goodbye. But instead, you stand there and blink at him. He blinks back.

“Do vampires need to be invited in?” You sound so shy all of a sudden. Maybe you like his company. Maybe you want someone to cuddle up to while watching that demon thing you won’t shut up about.

“Is that your way of inviting me in?”

“We could watch Demon Slayer?” you suggest as you open the door and usher him in. He still has no idea what Demon Slayer is, but he’ll watch it with you if it means you’ll never lose that mischievous little sparkle in your eye.

Jungkook nods. He’s starting to feel like what the kids these days call a “simp.” Except, the things he does for you are unconditional. He’s never looking for anything in return, not when he talked your counselor into letting you drop the class, nor when he decided to help you out in the darkroom. The only thing he’s made you promise is to keep the vampire thing a secret. And that just comes with the territory.

“Don’t invite your demon friends, though.” You throw your arms over his shoulders and give him a nice long kiss. God, he loves how good you taste. Kisses aren’t supposed to be sweeter than blood, but yours are. “I want you all to myself.”

He carries you to the bedroom, plays with your cat, and decides that Inosuke is his favorite Demon Slayer character. He even helps you hang up your new wall decor even though it makes him feel like he’s your new celebrity crush.

But his favorite part is the way you run your little fingers across his cold skin, the way you trace his tattoos and say you want one too, and the warmth you radiate when you’re with him.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts vampire smut #bts vampire au #bts college au #vampire jungkook #jungkook #bts

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sadprose-auroras · 7 months

Note

hiiii i was wondering if i could make a request for a hazel x reader where reader is beaten up by someone not from fight club and hazel gets really protective and rounds up the rest of the club to retaliate

Hey, thank you for your request! Sorry it took a hot min, this one took on a life of its own. Not sure how I feel about it tbh, but please let me know what you think! xx

Content warning: targeted violence, themes of bullying, cursing

Word count: 3.7k

You were well aware that Jeff, star quarterback, most popular guy in school, widely celebrated asshole, completely had it in him to take his bullying way too far. You couldn’t ever forget the first time you saw him beat somebody to a pulp.

It was eighth grade, and you were an awkward, shy thing, just trying to navigate schoolwork and friendships. To put it simply, you were figuring out who you were and your place in the world. There were so many questions swirling around in your head. Why did you feel an immense swirling sensation in your tummy when your classmate, Hazel Callahan, would sit next to you in class when nobody else would? Was it normal to be so deeply enamoured by the clothes she wore, her hairstyle, her school supplies, so much so that you would try and emulate an outfit she’d worn, to beg your mom for a haircut like hers, to buy the same pencil case she had, just because she was the coolest person you knew? Reflecting back, of course, you had a crush on her, and didn’t know how to express it. But at the time, you thought you just really wanted to be her best friend and not leave her side for a moment.

At this awkward pre-pubescent stage, Jeff and all his football buddies seemed to be way older, more mature, and you were terrified of them. Jeff, especially. He had always been a bully, shoving kids out of his way in the school halls and calling people derogatory names. But he only seemed to be getting worse. And every time you passed him in the hallway, your heart was in your throat as you kept your head down and walked faster. Was this the time he was going to target you?

One day, you were in the schoolyard, sitting on a bench with Hazel chatting about a book that Hazel had lent to you. One that, to your surprise and deep excitement, included two of the girl characters sharing a kiss on the lips. Vampires, at that. You thought that was the coolest thing ever. You’d read that same passage over and over, enthralled at that even being a possibility. It had crossed your mind that you really wanted to kiss Hazel like that.

“So… did you like it?” she asked with an expectant smile. You nodded incessantly.

“Oh my god, it was AMAZING! The vampires were SO cool, Kali and Anna were my favourite characters by far! I wanna be a vampire,” you gushed, flushing a deep shade of red when Hazel giggled.

“Dude, I knew you’d say that!” she said. “You so don’t wish you were a vampire, you love the sun!” You laughed and shrugged. She was completely right.

“You know me well, Haze,” you laughed.

“Hey?” Hazel asked, chewing on the end of the straw on her juice box. She looked nervous.

“Hm?”

“I have to tell you something.” Your heart started going a million miles an hour.

“What is it?”

“Well-“ before she could finish, a commotion out of the corner of your eye caught both of your attentions. You whipped your head around to see a large group gathered around two people on the floor. It was Jeff, holding down a kid and punching him. Over. And over. And over. You quickly realised it was a boy in your English class, Thomas, who you’d never really talked to but was a shy nerd like you. He seemed nice; he had lent you a pencil once. To your horror, he didn’t even seem to be moving. And Jeff was cackling. Maniacally.

“Oh god, what do we do?” you asked frantically. “We should get a teacher, right?” Although there were a bunch of kids cheering him on, it didn’t feel right.

“Yeah, come on!” Hazel said, grabbing your hand and dragging you behind her as you rushed off together to find a teacher. You couldn’t tell if it was the handholding, or the life and death situation, that was giving you more adrenaline.

------------------------------------------------------------

Now that you were all seniors, you were only more terrified of Jeff. He had never targeted you, luckily, but you had witnessed his increasing violent nature towards many of your other classmates. As for Hazel, the vampire book situation all those years ago had been somewhat of an awakening for you; you were totally, completely in love with your best friend. You never, ever told her though, your fear of rejection outweighing anything else. The closest you got was telling her you liked girls when you were having a sleepover for your sixteenth birthday. There was something about sleepovers that made you feel like you could talk about things you usually weren’t brave enough to. To your delight, she told you the exact same thing moments later.

Shockingly, you and Hazel had finally branched out and spoke to people besides each other. Your other friends, PJ and Josie, made you a perfect little foursome. You had bonded over your respective codependent friendships. You first heard about the fight club when PJ and Josie told you and Hazel over lunch that they had created a self-defence club to sleep with cheerleaders.

“We’re teaching them how to defend themselves, next thing we know, Isabel and Brittany are kissing us on the mouths!” PJ addressed Josie, flailing her arms around.

“Can we join?” you asked, then realised how that sounded, laughing. “I mean-“

Hazel squinted at you from the sun, furrowing her brows in confusion. Your heart skipped a beat; her eyes particularly sparkled in the sunshine.

“You want both of us” – she pointed back and forth between herself and you – “to join those two” – she gestured at PJ and Josie – “in kissing Brittany and Isabel!?”

“No, no,” you say quickly. “The club. Can we join the club?”

“Yeah, sure!” Josie said.

“I mean, I guess, except we don’t want the losers to outweigh everyone else. No offense,” PJ says, and you shrug, entirely not offended.

“You’re not wrong,” you chuckle. “We are decidedly losers.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Despite the murky intentions PJ and Josie had for starting the club, it began to take on a life of its own. The mismatched groups of girls really began to bond, and you found yourself emotionally fulfilled in a new way that you hadn’t really experienced before. Being able to talk about deep things with a group of girls you knew had your back, and vice versa, was life changing. You noticed a significant difference in how you felt at school. Before, you were on edge most of the time and relatively lonely in a lot of your classes. Now, you had people to sit with, to say ‘hi’ to in the hallways. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders that you didn’t know existed.

One evening after a particularly long club meeting, you were the last one to leave, packing up after everybody else had left. You were humming to yourself as you worked, the warm feeling you had inside from hanging out with your friends still lingering. It was ironic how beating each other up brought you so close. Once you finished, you left the gym, backpack slung over your shoulder and keys in hand as you walked into the carpark. You noticed a figure moving in your general direction out of the corner of your eye but didn’t think much of it; there were lots of people still around school, coming out of their extracurriculars. Just as you had unlocked your car, the footsteps neared, and you whipped around to be met with Jeff standing over you threateningly. You gulped.

“May I help you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even as not to show how terrified you were of him.

“Yeah, actually,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve had enough of your little girls group taking attention away from football. You’re all over the school, and it’s done. You’re all done.”

“I don’t know what you expect us to do,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” You shoved him away, going to get into your car. Before you could, he reached out and pushed the door closed.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, and your heart sank.

------------------------------------------------------------

The first place you thought to go after Jeff beating you up was Hazel’s house. You practically sped to get there, unable to stop the sobs wracking your body. As you pulled into her driveway, you let out a sigh of relief noticing that her mum’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Barely stopping to take off your seatbelt before rushing out of the car, you ran up to the door and rang the doorbell twice in a row. It didn’t take long for you to hear footsteps, and the door swung open to Hazel dressed in sweatpants and a cozy jumper. She murmured your name, eyes scanning your face with concern.

“What happened?”

Without speaking, you practically fell into her arms in a hug, only crying harder. She engulfed you with her arms, stroking your hair comfortingly.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” she whispered, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You hiccupped, pulled away from the hug and wiped some tears from your eyes with your sleeve.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You wordlessly took Hazel’s outstretched hand, following her to the bathroom. You hoisted yourself up onto the sink, swinging your legs. Hazel started collecting supplies: damp cloths, antiseptic, band aids, bruise ointment. As you watched her, face deep in concentration as she murmured to herself about what she needed, you felt a surge of love for her.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice dripping with sincerity. She looked at you funnily as if to say, you don’t need to thank me, don’t be ridiculous.

“Okay, I’m just going to-“ she said gently, stepping between your legs and beginning to gently dab the blood off your face. As she worked, you watched her, suppressing tears at the realisation that you couldn’t feel any safer and protected with her by your side. God, you loved her. As she applied antiseptic, she shook her head in disbelief.

“Who did this to you?” she asked, visibly seething.

“Jeff,” you said quietly, lip quivering. Steam practically blew out of Hazel’s ears. Her movements ceased for a moment, and she pressed her lips tightly together.

“He deserves to die,” she said matter of factly.

“I don’t disagree,” you murmur.

“Hey?” you ask, making eye contact with her. You realise how truly close your faces are, and your heart rate increases rapidly. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to keep your composure.

“Can I stay here tonight, please?” you ask, desperately trying to suppress the urge to be embarrassed. You just really didn’t want to be alone.

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask, you know that.” Her voice was so gentle, you practically melted.

“Thanks, Haze,” you said, as she finished cleaning you up.

“All done,” she said, beginning to pack away everything. You hop off the bench, taking the painkillers and water she hands you gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say as you pop the tablets into your mouth and swallow them with a big gulp of water.

“Stop thanking me,” Hazel chuckled lightly. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You followed her to her bedroom, suddenly feeling unusually nervous. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t slept in each other’s beds before. Sleepovers were a major part of your friendship when you were younger, and more recently were particularly convenient when you got a little too drunk to get home. Perhaps there was something about the added layer of vulnerability to your state that was making you feel shyer with your best friend. As you contemplated this, shuffling back and forth on your feet, Hazel retrieved a soft t-shirt and shorts for you to wear to bed. She threw them at you, and you caught them with a soft smile.

“Thanks, dude.” You moved into an alcove in the corner of her room, turning to face the wall as you heard Hazel shuffling around, presumably getting changed as well. You desperately fought the urge to turn around, unsure if the tension in the room you could feel just at the thought of you both getting changed at the same time was in your head. But you swore, you could feel it. You pulled Hazel’s shorts up, tying them at the waist and trying to ignore the fact that the t-shirt she had lent you smelt like her. Although it was difficult not to. You folded your clothes, placing them on a chair, then turned around to find Hazel in a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and a white tank top, sitting on her bed scrolling on her phone.

“You look cute,” she remarked in an indecipherable tone, and you couldn’t entirely tell if she was joking or not. Since eighth grade, you’d definitely developed your own style apart from Hazel’s, and her clothes on you were not your style at all. You poked you tongue out at her, as you walked over and got under the covers, snuggling down. It was easier to fall back into your friendship as it had always been in those moments, where you were unsure if she was feeling the same way. Otherwise, you might have to actually confess your own feelings, which was completely terrifying.

Hazel followed your lead, placing her phone down on the nightstand and pushing the covers back so she could get in, pulling them up to her chin and turning over to face you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you for everything, Haze,” you said, shutting your eyes. If you looked into hers for a second longer you might actually explode.

“I’d do anything for you,” she whispered, so softly you could barely hear it. Before you knew it, you were drifting off.

------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning you awoke to sun pouring in the curtains, and you slowly opened your eyes, stretching your back and yawning. Despite the events of last night, you actually slept better than you had in weeks. The pain in your face had subsided a lot already. You rolled over to face Hazel’s side of the bed, heart sinking when you found it empty. Confused, you rolled back over and reached for your phone, touching the screen. Realisation flooded in. It was 9:00am on a Thursday. A text from Hazel was waiting for you, which she had sent half an hour earlier.

morning! i let you sleep, hope that’s okay. wasn’t sure if u were gonna go to school today. text me if you need anything <3

You smiled softly to yourself, eyes focused on the heart she sent a little longer than necessary. You quickly replied.

Thank youuuu, needed that sleep in. I think I will come to school, I’ll see you for second period probs xx

After hitting send, you got out of bed, making sure to make it neatly before deciding to go and quickly take a shower. After you stripped out of your clothes and waited for the water to warm up, you took a moment to examine your face in the mirror. It felt significantly better than last night, as if Hazel’s touch was magic. The bruising around your eyes was starting to come out, you had a small cut on your cheekbone, and the eye that you could barely open last night was much less swollen. You stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to relax your muscles with a sigh.

Little did you know, as you were sleeping that morning, Hazel had called an emergency meeting of the fight club. She was on a mission, and absolutely nothing was going to stop her. All she kept seeing in her mind’s eye was your face when you showed up on her doorstep, beaten and bloody, sniffling, eyes brimming with tears. To see you like that, the person she loved more than anyone in the world, shattered her heart. She had to get revenge, and she needed some help.

“Are we all clear on the plan?” Hazel asked, looking around at the group. It felt strange for the whole club to be there with you missing; she certainly noticed your absent presence. Normally, you’d be next to her, sitting cross-legged, and tapping your fingers on your leg like you do, exchanging glances with Hazel when something funny happened. She basically ached at the thought.

“Let’s fucking do it!” PJ yelled, banging the handle of a broom on the ground. Everyone else cheered and clapped in agreement.

“Let’s kill him,” Isabel said, narrowing her eyes with determination. She had her own reasons to want to do this.

------------------------------------------------------------

By the time you pulled into the carpark at school, the bell was just ringing, indicating the end of the first period. You weren’t going to lie, you were nervous about running into Jeff, but you prayed that there were enough people around during the actual school day that he couldn’t get you again. Just as you stepped out of your car, you heard a commotion coming from behind you. You frowned, swinging your backpack over your shoulder to follow the noise of people shouting. Rounding the corner to the other side of the carpark, your hand flew to your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Hazel, along with all your friends from fight club, were stood over a football-uniform clad guy on the ground, who you couldn’t see from your angle. As other students had gathered around to watch, whooping and cheering, your friends were taking turns to punch, kick, stomp on, and slap the guy on the ground.

“THAT’S FOR CHEATING ON ME WITH MY SISTER!” Isabel cried out, kicking hard. That’s when it dawned on you; the guy on the ground, who was barely moving, unable to get out of the girls’ grips, was Jeff.

“THAT’S FOR Y/N!” Hazel yelled, in a voice you had never heard her use before, swinging both of her fists down hard on Jeff’s face multiple times. You approached the group, pushing past the onlooking crowd. You couldn’t believe how many people were supporting this. The way Jeff was thoroughly worshipped in school was obscene. Perhaps everybody was just waiting for someone to get back at him first. You approached your friends, taking a deep breath to yourself. They all turned to look at you as Josie was kicking Jeff in the head blood dripping from his mouth. Isabel was watching on proudly. You placed your hand on Hazel’s shoulder, and she spun around.

“Hey,” you murmured, smiling softly.

“I-uh-“ she began, as if she was about to explain herself, then you shook your head.

“Can I get in on this?” you asked, and she visibly relaxed, grinning.

“You’re not mad?”

“Fuck, no! You’re so brave for doing this, to be the first to give him what he deserves.” With that, you turned your attention to the guy lying on the ground, smiling at the sight of him groaning, bleeding, looking like absolute death.

“Hey, remember me?” you asked, before bringing your fist down on his face. Hard. And then again. And then again. And once more. Your friends, as well as the crowd watching on, cheered you on. The last punch you threw caused Jeff’s head to fall to the side as he passed out. You stood up proudly, looking around at your friends.

“I love you guys,” you grinned, and you all engulfed each other in a big group hug, all congratulating each other and saying how much you all loved each other. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Hazel’s hand resting on the small of your back. You all pulled away, and as everybody fell into chatter you grabbed Hazel’s hand and pulled her with you away from the crowd.

“Where are we going?” she asked with a laugh, awkwardly trailing behind you in a half jog, half walk.

“Here,” you said breathlessly, stopping when you rounded a corner to a quiet spot.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Your voice was still breathless, your head spinning with anticipation. It was now or never. Before Hazel could respond, you leant against the brick wall of the building behind you, pulling her toward you by her waist. She cupped your face, and your lips met. Desire pooled in your stomach as your lips slotted together perfectly, moving together in sync. Her lips were way softer than they looked, and you had spent a lot of time looking at them.

Hazel pulled away slightly, and you instinctively chased her lips. She smirked, eyes scanning your face. You flushed deeply.

“Oh my god,” she said in that voice that made you want to melt into the floor, and you laughed in disbelief.

“I know,” you whispered before kissing the corner of her mouth. She smiled at this, pushing a strand of your hair out of your eyes. If it was anybody else, you would feel insecure about your swollen eye and bruised face, you would worry that you weren’t attractive, but it didn’t cross your mind once with Hazel. She made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

“I didn’t know-“ you both started to say at the same time, then giggled. You were literally giddy.

“You go,” you said.

“I didn’t know you liked me.”

“I didn’t know you liked me,” you replied, laughing.

“Do you remember-“ Hazel started, then cleared her throat. “Do you remember that book I lent you in eighth grade about those gay vampires?”

“That was literally my gay awakening,” you said with a laugh, unable to believe that she remembered that. “Wait, what does that-“

“I’ve been in love with you since then,” Hazel suddenly said, and your heart caught in your throat. You pulled Hazel even closer to you by her belt loops, and she gasped. You kissed her more passionately this time, your head spinning.

“I’m in love with you too,” you murmured when you pulled away, foreheads resting together.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan imagine #bottoms fanfic #hazel callahan smut

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foxilayde · 7 months

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Where’s My Goddamn Money? [Marc Spector x Fem!Vampire!Reader]

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Blood drinking, lack of consent, groping, nudity, suggestive language. Minors DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Marc Spector wants his wallet back.

A/N: I wrote this fic a long time ago, but removed it in a fit of angst shortly after posting. I’ve been thinking about Ula recently because of spooky season and wanted to share her with y’all. I hope you love her as much as I do!

“I know you’re here Dracula, you big fucking nerd. Where’s my Goddamn money?!”

Hurried steps and the swish of a crescent-shaped cape accompany the echoing voice of Marc Spector as he descends the slate steps of your abandoned-chapel-turned-temporary-home. Seems ironic to live in the belly of a place so full of crosses, but it reassuringly houses a small family catacomb, and it just might be the last place anyone would think to look for a vampire… unless they knew who they were looking for. And would you look at that, Spector figured it out.

“Took you long enough, Spector.” You sip your wine, curled up on the velvet divan, the ceiling drips steadily above you, and you couldn’t look more like a fucking vampire if you tried. You look like a boudoir photoshoot they’d sell at an alternative gift shop, and if you were able to appear in photographs, you’d consider posing in a calendar for real. Eternal life has it’s disadvantages certainly, but it is easy on the eyes.

“Where’s my fucking money, Ula? I know it was you.”

He stalks closer to you now with a slow intensity. It’s funny; for how rushed he seemed to be making his way down the steps, he appears to have lost some of his impatience upon reaching his destination. The sight of you totally naked in the candlelight on the blood red velvet fainting couch has the desired stunning effect on poor Marc Spector. His steps grow slower, edging closer to you, but scanning his surroundings now with creeping mistrust. Smart boy.

You pick at a button on the sofa and purse your lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Marc.” You smile wickedly at him, taking another sip from your glass.

Marc’s mask dissolves and he flips back his hood to reveal an unamused angular face, inky curls hanging handsomely over his brow. What a tasty looking treat. And so thoughtful. To bring himself all this way.

“My fucking wallet, Ula. Black. Leather. Full of cash. Ring any bells?”

You put an affronted hand on your bare chest, making sure to caress a nipple with your ring finger while you give him a cartoonishly innocent doe-eyed look “Why, whatever could you mean, mister Spector? Are you accusing me of being a thief?”

“You this lonely, huh? You have to take things of mine to lure me down here. You’re obviously not expecting… company.” He shakes his head and gestures to your curled nude form.

“I’m deeply offended, Marc. I assure you, I did not take your wallet.” You set the wine glass down on the lacquered table, next to the flickering candelabra. “Tell you what” You stalk toward him, very slowly as not to frighten him, “You can even search me if it’ll make you feel better.”

Marc gulps and takes one step backwards for every advancing footfall you trod across the damp stone floor. His back eventually reaches a column and he pauses wide eyed allowing you to slowly and carefully close the distance between your bodies.

You thought an avatar might be a little harder to hypnotize, but he was no more of a challenge than any other man. His eyes are effortlessly tractioned by your own and his jaw loosens in wonder as you step between his legs.

He puts up no fight when you grab his hands and place them on your waist. Oh darkness, his hands are warm, warm and sweet like his candied brown eyes. And fuck, the way his panicked heartbeat vibrates through his hot fingers and into the flesh of your ass? The radiance is akin to the memory of sunlight… you can smell he sun on his golden warm skin. Everything in you screams with a bat-shriek to bite into him now, to suck the sweet life out of his sun-kissed neck, with its thick ropes of tense muscle, fatigued from carrying that pretty head around.

He won’t fight now, not while you’re looking at him like this, but you can’t hold his gaze forever… or perhaps you could. You’d wager your hypnotic gaze could theoretically keep him here for as long as his biology could remain stasis without rest and water— but there’s no chance your patience and lust could wait that long. Not while the throbbing vein in his neck, so thick, so appetizing, is inches from your face. You’ve improved upon your restraint in the last few hundred years, but it’s yet to be perfected. And why wait? You don’t want the stupid bird to come looking for him, do you?

Your eyes are heavy on his own when you purr, “search me, Spector.” He nods like a zombie and his hands are rough on your body, zeroing in on the fleshiest part of you— your bare ass, he squeezes and pulls your cheeks apart and his lip curls like a dog when he growls softly. Whether the vocalizations are a demonstration of pleasure or defiance, you don’t care.

“Ooohh,” Your eyes tighten in mirth and you nearly lose the gaze before you widen them again.

“Good boy, Spector.”

You bite your lip, letting your pearly fangs hook on your bottom lip. He’s delightfully obedient to the gaze. You let your long nails scrape along his scalp, scratching him affectionately before you take a handful of his unruly curls in your grasp.

“Such a good boy that I’m going to let you in on a little secret, okay?”

Marc gives no indication that he understood and he continues to stare dumbly into your eyes and pinch and squeeze the softness of your backside in his warm, wide palms.

You huff impatiently and use the reign of his thick strands to nod his head in agreement for him. You smile with satisfaction. “I did take your fucking wallet, Marc.”

Again, no reaction from him, thoroughly caught in the haze and muck of your sticky spell.

“I took it to lure your cute little butt down here so we could have some fun.”

Still silence, hardly a trace of recognition on his dazed face.

You trace a long fingernail down the side of his cheek, poking up the corner of his mouth into a half-smirk. “Gods, I love a man who knows when to shut the fuck up.” You laugh, scraping your nails gently down his neck and down his suit, to the crescent emblemed breast plate. You nearly, very nearly, break the gaze to look at the plate while you tease your fingertips across it. But your gaze is steady.

“But that’s not the secret, Spector. You knew I took it. The secret is this, and I’ll drain you if you ever tell anyone, but the secret—” You pitch your voice down to a breathy whisper, “You know how mortals have to invite a vampire into their home before we are allowed to enter?”

No response, no matter.

“Well, the opposite holds true for mortals entering a vampire home.”

Again, not a flicker of recognition from him, his thumbs are rubbing needy circles at your backside and the closer you step into him, the more pronounced you can feel the pulsing heat between his legs. Fuck, maybe you should drink from him there. It’s been a long time since you feasted on a femoral artery of a man.

“You see, Spector, once you enter a vampire’s lair, you can’t leave without express verbal permission.” You lick your fangs to punctuate your point. “Like a mouse in a glue trap, I could keep you here as long as it pleases me,” you laugh.

You think you see a subtle widening of his eyes, but it could have been a trick of the candle light.

“Oh don’t be scared, Marc. I’m not going to kill you. Not even going to change you. Just going to take a few good mouthfuls of you, and then I’ll let you go.” Your mouth waters at the visual you’ve painted for yourself. Mouthfuls of his thick pulsing blood, straight from the femoral artery. Christ, you need to feed.

“Does that sound good to you, Marc?” His nostrils flare a bit and you grin. “Oh look at you, baby. You’re excited, I can tell.” You place your palm at the inside of his knee and drag it up, up, up, till it’s resting over the booming ventricle at the center of his thick, warm body, it’s playing a quickening beat and you can feel your fangs grow at the temptation of it.

“Eyes on me, baby.” It’s harder to talk the more your throat fills with the analgesic fluid and your fangs thicken and extend. Your tongue gets hard to control in your attempt to swallow the flood of venom that pools in your mouth. You drop to your knees, never breaking eye contact while you kiss his inner thigh. Your lips are right above the searing pulse point he smells like heaven itself. You rip off his stupid loincloth with impatience. Nuzzling your face into his thighs as best you can while still holding his eyes with your own.

Your bare knees sting slightly on the cold wet floor, You grip onto his thighs, nails biting into the grey linen wrapped coverings while you affectionately nip at his clothed inner leg, never breaking the gaze. In your mad craving, you hardly register as a string of venom drips to the floor from your mouth in a debauched display. You admit you can’t remember the last time you went on your knees like this for a warm suck, but Spector looks delicious from this angle, leant back against the cold stone column, legs obediently spread for you. His hands, unable now to “search” and grope you, are balled into fists at his sides.

Your fangs are at full extension and they grow itchy and painful, if you had any patience left you’d have asked Marc to vanish this part of his suit, but he’s likely capable of fuck-all since the gaze kicked in, so you sink your teeth right through the gauze of his leg coverings, hitting that sweet throbbing vein that’s been calling out to you, begging for relief, begging you to slow its rapid pace down.

Your eyes close in relief and ecstasy, and it’s no matter that they do, the damage is done. You don’t have to hold the gaze any longer, your prey is paralyzed. Though, you think briefly you might enjoy it more if he were able to struggle, to vainly wriggle his thick thighs against your predatory hold. He would be so much fun to play with! To wrestle him down, to fight for your meal— for each suck to drag him further and further away from his own strength… but mortals are so fragile, if it weren’t for the gaze, many would perish from a heart attack before you could get to the meal. Only the most unrefined of your kind ever resort to such discourteous practices when feeding.

He tastes so thick and sweet, and so very very warm, much warmer than a neck bite. The heat of his thighs on either side of your head adds to the burning delicacy, the muscles are more tender down here as well… as much as you had fantasized about the ropey texture of his neck under your lips, this holds its own delights. Sure, you can’t taste the sun, salt, and stubble of his neck— but the flesh down here is soft like butter-seared fois gras. Blood syrupy and warm like hot mead. You don’t want to drink too much, but you don’t want to drink too little either. It’s unlikely Marc Spector will be fooled twice and pay you another visit, so you must savor and make this last as long his blood will hold.

When his heartbeat eventually slows to a resting rate, you make an irate little sound against his blood soaked thigh and force your teeth to pull back into your mouth. Fuck, its so painful to do when your lust isn’t slaked, much easier to just drain him… but a promise is a promise.

You nip your finger and squeeze a few drops of your own blood till it pearls on your skin and you swipe the healing blood onto his puncture wounds, effectively sealing him up. It does nothing for the staining though, and the dark red continent is prominent against the light grey of his suit. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and smile, rising up to your feet. You step in between his legs and snake your arms around his trim waist, planting a bloody kiss on his dazed mouth. He kisses you back faintly, like one might groggily mouth a kiss in their sleep.

“Mmmm, darling, you tasted even better than I dreamed you would.” You wipe of the stain of blood you transferred to his lips with your thumb and you pout at him.

“Baby is tired, isn’t he?”

Marc blinks slowly at you in response, eyes rolling back in delirium, and he heavily collapses into your embrace. Luckily your senses are heightened from having just fed, so you’re able to support his weight with ease and bring him to rest on the divan. You prop him up comfortably. Poor baby is helplessly unconscious… Perhaps you took a tad too much from him? You climb on top of him, still naked, and straddle his limp form to press your ear to his chest.

Still beating. Strong enough.

You sigh with relief. If he was dying you’d have to change him and then you’d have that fucking bird on your ass for turning his avatar. Nearly 600 years old and you still can’t control your lust to a conscionable level. Just imagine, Spector as a vampire! You laugh at the idea and slap his sleeping chest as if he were the one who came up with the thought. “Ha!” He would make a miserable vampire, he’d never have fun with it. No imagination. He’d be the type to be wracked with guilt at every kill. Sad silly boy. A regular Louie du Pointe du Lac, feeding on cats in shame and writing disconsolate letters to no one with his own blood tears. What a mess he would be!

You prop yourself up in a cobra pose on him, forearms and elbows on his breastplate, laying on him fully, the tops of your feet pointed atop his shins. You shake your head at his handsome face and smooth the curls from his brow. For the first time in a long time you have a whim to sleep for a moment… but you can’t, you haven’t slept in nearly 600 years, so you prop your chin on your fist and stare at the pretty avatar while he sleeps, drinking in his slumber with your eyes, savoring the slow rise and fall of his chest.

You reach under the decorative pillow and pull out a black leather wallet. You grin as you tuck it safely in his belt and you kiss his warm cheek before whispering in his ear, “I grant you permission to leave when you wake, Marc Spector.” You rest your head in the crook of his neck, lips teasing his weak pulse point. You sigh when you close your eyes and pretend that you can dream.

END

[If you enjoyed, please consider a reblog! 😘]

#Marc Spector #Marc Spector x Reader #Marc Spector x You #Moon Knight #Oscar Isaac forgive me #Kinktober

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agaypanic · 1 year

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Okokok so what if the reader is a part of the more popular crowd but is secretly really nerdy and owns like every superhero comic book known to man. And Rory being Rory is like madly in love with her already because she's just really pretty plus she helped him once so now he's like head over heels. But anyways what if the gang are at a comic book shop but see the reader there and like to confront her by asking why she's there and she basically just starts RAMBLING on and on and on about how big of a fan she is of these comic books. And Rory just falls even more in love with her(if that's even possible) and like he just puts his hands on her cheeks to make her shut up and just says "you're the girl of my dreams" and like kisses her BOOM! EVERYONE SHOCKED!! BOOM HAPPY ENDING!!

Girl of My Dreams (Rory Keaner X Reader)

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Summary: Rory Keaner was already heavily infatuated with Whitechapel’s pride and joy, Y/n L/n. But when he finds out she’s a nerd, he falls even harder for her.

A/N: Reader nerds out over scooby doo bc I nerd out over scooby doo, you wouldn’t believe how much I talk about it irl. So yea reader and Rory bond over scooby apocalypse (it’s like the only comic I own) and scooby lore, this fic is kinda just me projecting lmao

***

It was no secret that Rory was head over heels for Y/n L/n, one of the most popular girls in Whitechapel. His friends had tried to get his head out of the clouds because there was no way a popular girl would fall for a nerd. Rory thought that was an outdated concept. Eventually, the gang let him have his delusions because his infatuation seemed to be more than the fleeting crushes he had had on others in the past.

Rory thought he had more of a chance with Y/n than with his past crushes. For one, she actually acknowledged and talked to him without being forced to, like being paired together for a school project. She didn’t push him away when he’d go up to speak to her, despite the looks her friends would give him for just approaching them. Y/n seemed engaged in their conversations, making Rory’s dead heart flutter when she’d add on to something he’d say instead of wondering what he was talking about.

“She’s not just hot, Benny!” Rory argued with his friend as he and the gang walked around an outlet mall. The girls wanted to go shopping, and the boys thought that would be the perfect opportunity to look for things to add to their game and comic collection. “She’s really nice and sweet and funny and hot!”

“I’m just saying that maybe you shouldn’t get your hopes up too high, Rory.” Benny sighed, trying not to crush his spirits. “I mean, have you thought that maybe she’s nice to you because she’s popular and doesn’t wanna seem like a bitch in front of people?”

“Don’t say that about her, Benny! Besides, we’ve talked in private before. And she’s just as nice, maybe even nicer!”

“When have you talked to her in private, Rory?” Ethan asked. He half regretted asking because Rory got even more excited.

“Okay, so I was in the library, right? We had some research project, and I was trying to find a book. Well, Y/n was also in the library, and she came up to me asking if I was looking for something. Turns out, we were looking for the same book, so when we found it, we took notes on it together. Did you know she color codes her notes?”

“I learn something new about her every day,” Benny muttered. Erica decided to butt in.

“Guys, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but stop being so hard on Y/n.” Benny and Ethan looked at her, confused. Erica never passed up an opportunity to rag on somebody. But to be fair, she usually ragged on them. “I remember before I became a vampire, she was like the only popular girl who didn’t treat me like trash or like I was invisible.”

That convinced the group a bit more about Y/n. Rory was very imaginative, while Erica was blunt and didn’t care too much about hurting someone’s feelings if what she was saying was honest. One of the boys was going to say something when Rory gasped.

“Guys, I found the comic store!” He raced to the door as fast as he could without using his vampire speed. The rest ran after him, trying not to get hit by the door he whipped open. Rory sped to the comic section as the rest casually looked around. Ethan was in the games section when Rory came back, running into him.

“She’s here!” Rory whispered in a panic.

“Who’s here?” Ethan asked, startled, looking over Rory to see who he was talking about.

“Y/n!” Rory said sharply, looking back for a moment to see if she had heard her name. “She’s in the comic section; what do I do?”

“Go talk to her?” Ethan was confused. Rory was going on and on about how Y/n was so nice and easy to talk to. He didn’t understand what was stopping him from doing so now.

“It’s not that easy! Yeah, at school, it’s fine. But this is, like, out in the open. This is unexplored territory, E!”

“No, it’s not, Rory.” Ethan put his hands on Rory’s shoulders, trying to get him to focus. “You can do this, man. You’re in a place you’ve been in about a thousand times. You’ve talked to Y/n enough times to the point where you’re comfortable enough to go up to her on your own. This should be like a dream scenario for you.”

Rory stared off, thinking about what Ethan was saying. He was right. Y/n was now in his territory, without any of her judgemental friends around her. Talking to her should be a breeze.

“Come on, Rory, go talk to her.” Rory was startled when Ethan started pushing him. He almost stumbled over his feet as Ethan shoved him toward the comics before walking back to the game he was looking at. Rory looked down the aisle. Y/n was still there, looking at a shelf. He took a deep breath before strolling over to her.

“Hey-” Rory cleared his throat, his voice coming out a bit high out of nervousness. “Hey, Y/n. What are you doing here?”

The girl turned to him, immediately smiling at his presence. Rory felt butterflies rapidly flapping around in his stomach.

“Hey, Rory! I’m just here looking for some comics that I’m missing from my collection.” Y/n picked a comic off the shelf. “You know, I’m kinda surprised this is our first time running into each other here.”

“Really?” Rory asked, sneaking a peak at the comic Y/n had picked out.

“Yeah, I mean, I come here-”

“No way! You like Scooby Apocalypse too?” Y/n looked down, realizing he was looking at what was in her hand. She grinned at the fact that he recognized it.

“Yeah! I love Scooby Doo, especially when they have a cool concept like this.” She looked back at the shelf and found another comic in the series that she was missing. “Although, I have to say that my favorite Scooby media has got to be the Mystery Incorporated series.”

“I loved that show!” Rory grinned. As if Y/n wasn’t perfect enough in his eyes, he also discovered that she was a bit of a nerd like him.

“The storytelling is so good! Like finding out that the mystery gang was all connected to the previous group that disappeared and Fred finding out he’s the son of two of the members! Oh my gosh, don’t even get me started on finding out that Scooby’s the descendant of creatures from a whole different dimension, and that’s why he can talk.” Y/n didn’t notice Rory looking at her like a lovesick puppy, thoroughly entranced by her rambles. “Did you know that Anunnaki, the creatures, was actually a group of gods in the Mesopotamian pantheon? So like, Scooby could actually be seen as a descendant of gods! I feel like the writers of the show put so much effort into-”

“God, I wanna kiss you so bad right now,” Rory said dreamily. Y/n paused her ramble, looking at him in surprise. Rory soon also became surprised at what he had just said.

“You wanna kiss me?” Rory realized that she didn’t look disgusted or weirded out. She smiled softly at him, waiting for an answer. He took a deep breath to get the courage to speak.

“Yeah.” He nodded, watching her smile get bigger.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.” Y/n shrugged, taking a step closer to him.

All fear washed away at her words. Rory stepped closer to her until there was barely any space between them. He cupped her cheeks with both hands.

‘She looks even more pretty up close.’ Rory thought as he took one final look at her for confirmation before pressing his lips to hers. One of Y/n’s hands left the comics she was holding to hold the back of his neck, drawing him more to her as their gentle kiss continued.

One of his hands slid down to rest on the small of her back. He gripped the fabric of her sweater as if none of this was real and she would fade away. But it was happening, and nothing could tear them away from this moment.

Until they heard a ‘whoop!’ and broke apart suddenly as if they had just remembered they were in a public place. Rory’s hand on Y/n’s back pushed her closer to him like he was scared that being found so close to him would scare her away. But instead, she leaned into him as her head whipped toward the source of the noise.

“Go, Rory!” The boy looked like a deer in headlights at his friends, who were crowded at the end of the aisle. They all looked both surprised and proud of him for finally making a move, even more surprised that Y/n reciprocated the kiss.

“Uh, a little privacy?” Rory laughed awkwardly, even though they were in public. The friend group quickly nodded and dispersed, acting like they were focused on other things while secretly listening to Rory start to talk to Y/n.

“If that kiss didn’t show it, I really like you, Y/n.” He smiled nervously. “You’re like the girl of my dreams.” Y/n laughed.

“Well, in case my kissing you back didn’t show it, I really like you too, Rory.”

“You’re even more perfecter than I thought you were.”

“‘Perfecter’ isn’t a real word in that context, Rory,” Sarah commented, forgetting that she and the gang weren’t supposed to be eavesdropping.

“Hey!” He looked at her offended before being drawn back to Y/n by a hand on his cheek.

“I think you’re just as perfect, Rory.” He giggled when she leaned in to kiss his cheek. From the corner of his eye, he saw the friends look at him expectantly, like he was supposed to do something. He racked his brain on what he should say.

“There’s an arcade nearby,” Rory said suddenly. “I have some money and… If you don’t mind, I really wanna keep hanging out with you.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

#rory keaner x reader #rory keaner #mbav #my babysitter's a vampire #agaypanic

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artzee-bee · 11 months

Text

Poly!Bethan Headcanons

Fandom: My babysitter’s a vampire

Request: “ Hey! I was just wondering if you could do some fluff hcs or a oneshot for Poly!Bethan x Reader (?). It's fine if not^^ have a good day/night! :) “ @thatonehornymf

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

~~~

You and Benny definitely feed into each other's recklessness. It’s a problem. You’re usually very chill and collected but when it’s you and Benny, it feels like your inner child is rejoicing and you can let go of all common sense and responsibilities and just live! Sure, that sometimes lands you two in trouble (many hours spent in detention between the 2 of you) but ultimately, the fun you have together outweighs the consequences. Plus your other boyfriend is right there for you!

He waits for you in the cafeteria or library. You always walk home together, so this is usually the time you and Benny will have to explain yourselves and he will give you a long and boring lecture about being more “responsible” and whatnot. It’s ok tho, because he will always end said lecture by kissing both of you and reminding you how much he loves you.

Ethan just loves you two so so much, he doesn’t want you to think any differently just because he’s acting annoyed. All he wants is for you to not get in trouble!

Date nights are definitely rare. It’s not because you 3 don’t wanna go out, but because you already spend so much time together at Ethan’s house, dates don’t feel exactly necessary. It’s not like any of you are the “going out to a fancy restaurant in suits and dresses'' type.

Even when you do go out, it’ll more than likely be something casual, like a movie! The boys will make a point of getting you your own bag of popcorn, while they share theirs because “as a lady”, you shouldn’t have to share your snacks with anyone. You’ll take turns picking the movies and everytime you guys agree on a horror movie, it’s custom to let E sit in the middle because poor boy gets so scared and you and Benny love sharing knowing looks while holding his hand or wrapping your arms around him

Benny is the KING of gifts!! He’s more observant than many think and always knows exactly what to get his two lovers to leave them speechless. He drops them on you at the most random moments too. He needs no occasion to get you the newest game you’ve been into and new paranormal hunting equipment for Ethan

When you get tangled up in paranormal business, Ethan becomes extremely overprotective of you and Benny! He will stop at nothing to keep you safe, which sometimes leads to arguments because he would much rather prefer you two stay home and out of it but you remind him that he can’t do it by himself, he needs you!

If any of you end up getting hurt at all, even if it’s as much as a scratch, you have a plan already in place!! You’ll go back to one of your houses and clean up, before starting a massive cuddle session!! The injured one reserves the right to choose the playlist that’s going off, but the others choose the snacks.

Neither of your boys are very affectionate in public, but they like it when you are being unapologetically clingy with them. They feel loved and appreciated and it’s a real boost of confidence to know that you are not embarrassed to be dating the school’s biggest nerds, regardless of what others might say.

#my babysitter's a vampire #my babysitter's a vampire imagine #my babysitters a vampire x reader #mbav x reader #poly!mbav #mbav #ethan morgan imagine #ethan morgan x reader #bethan x reader #benny weir x ethan morgan x reader #ethan morgan fanfiction #ethan morgan #ethan morgan fluff #benny weir #benny weir fanfiction #benny weir imagine #benny weir x reader #benny weir fluff #bethan

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chaepink · 1 year

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Works in Progress! ❤ - 25

last updated: 11.29.23

- this only include requests I've received and not my own ideas - i can choose to write your request into a drabble instead of a full fic if i feel like i can't write it into a fic (or if you don't really specify)

disclaimer: i reserve the right to combine requests if they're similar

Haikyu!!

♡ tsukishima kei

bratty tsukishima w edging and overstim pls bae :)

Aha ay Can I request edging and overstimming Tsukki as punishment after a whole day of him being a brat? Maybe some dacryphilia if you're up for it Ty so much for your time! I love your work

♡ kenma kozume

Kenma as a part-time stripper? Or just a stripper please

♡ osamu miya & atsumu miya

Can I request one where we peg osamu in front of atsumu as punishment for being a brat, we just keep calling osamu a good boy while completely ignoring atsumu, and once we're done with osamu we pound the fuck out of atsumu 😫🙏

My Hero Academia

♡ midoriya izuku

Hey, Can you write for Midoriya with a mommy/Daddy Kink where Midoriya had a bad day and wants to be pampered

I AM BEGGING YOU TO WRITE ABOUT FEM!READER PUNISHING (SPANKING) A SENSITIVE AND SPOILED IZUKU MIDORIYA EVEN THO HES BEING THE GOODEST BOY AS ALWAYS

♡ iida tenya

can i have a iida being hit by sex pollen and reader helping him out please

request numero dos idk but iida with nipple piercings has me reeling. tbh the chance of him actually ever getting them is zero but he actually does and reader discovers them? hoo boy. Imagine he got them all for reader too

♡ dabi

hiii can i request a sugar baby!dabi x sugarmommy!reader were dabi weres the most sluttiest things every day just so people can compliment him and so that the reader punishes and fucks him everyday cause reader is possesive and is turned on by what he wears and dabi also trys to stick his ass almost everywere cause reader is an ass person

♡ shigaraki

hey I was wondering if you could write about sub tomura shigaraki whose a virgin and like being humiliated and degraded? Thanks<3

Chainsaw Man

♡ aki

hi chae!! can i request a sub aki w bondage ? he'd look so good tied up ughngnng..,.,

♡ denji

can i request first time w denji??😊 he would be so pussy drunk n dumb n begging for more loorrrddd

Demon Slayer

♡ rengoku

hii so can you do a sub!rengoku x femdom!vampire reader one? details: y/n is having a bad day and rengoku wants to see whats up with her yk? and when hes finally sick of seeing her bottling all this anger up he wants her to take out her anger on him. Like he just offers her his neck with no hesitation yk? AAAA im down bad (pls include choking and her marking him as well)

Jujutsu Kaisen

♡ gojo satoru

If you're up for it, I have a request or a concept you're more than welcome to add on to or take away from! Please and thank you <3 You know how Gojo thinks he's all that? He's rich, charming, and the greatest sorcerer. He should be worshiped and praised at all times for it, right? Basically, he's being annoying so you punish him by riding him and while acting tired and disinterested at the same time since he lives for attention and praise. It should totally eat him up the fact that you're not praising him for being a good boy, for making you feel good- paired with your lazy movements, pretty much edging him the whole time. You bet your ass he tears up when you fake yawn lmao

Bully reader with nerd virgin Gojo please

ALRIGHTALRIGHTALRIGHT- Can I request making Gojo keep a remote vibrator up his ass for a day. Like you'll go to meetings and missions with him while fuckin around with the remote kicking up the intensity to make him squirm and hold back moans.

Sub bully gojo like he was planning on fucking and bullying reader when the opposite went way? Like reader had enough of his bullshit and makes him cry and overstimulates him?

Can i request sub yandere Gojo hcs , him as a boyfriend

♡ sukuna

Request for fem!reader × sukuna. I'm sick of these fanfictions where a character humiliates, insults, changes and the reader accepts it with adoration. Why not put bully!sukuna in its place? It can be a Sukuna king or a Sukuna at school. Facesitting, strangulation or a strap that will make a Sukuna regret

♡ geto suguru

Hi! I'd like to request for something with Geto Suguru and dumbification please. How about a scenario where gn!reader (with yandere undertones if you're okay with that) gets jealous when Geto was just being too nice with someone else, and takes him home to fuck him roughly until he's drooling all over himself. <3 Thank you if you do this!

♡ megumi

Coyld u pls write megumi with dom and mean reader with mommy kink. Then the reader's overstimulating him till he cry or smthng. (Then there's a fluff in the end?)😭 LIKE PLLSSS

♡ toji

Hi I was the anon who asked about requests- may I request Toji being a brat so you edge him And if you're up for it some knifeplay too with his own cursed dagger Tysm in advance and I love your writing!!

♡ yandere

Could you write sub!yandere/dom!reader where the reader doesn't actually feel sexual attraction but likes to watch their reactions to things like overstim, edging, object insertion, toys, etc?

BABE ILY AND YOUR WORK PLS PLS CAN YOU MAKE MASC!DOM READER WITH A HAREM OF HEAD OVER HEELS YANDERE BOYS!! reader is teasing, cheeky, taunting, etc, yk the personality like a fox? Yeah! And reader is a experimentalist master who is a really addictive sadist? -love you♡♪

Just another brat Yandere w strict gn/m!dom🤭 look straps are very versatile too you know sizes…

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ggukkieland · 2 years

Text

📕BTS Fic Reads - 2022 Mar to May (Pt 1)

I have been doing this monthly reading lists for years now 🥺.

I was supposed to do something for my blog anniversary but I couldn’t find the time 👉🏽👈🏽🥺. I couldn’t organize my readings enough to share (and went back to silent reading too 🥺). But anyway, I’m sort of back and here’s my attempt to organize fics reblogged, commented on, bookmarked, etc. from March to May🌹

💟 Please show these authors appreciation the most by commenting/ reblogging their fics and sending them nice asks =). Thank you, dearest authors! Days are usually tough and your stories have been part of my activities to de-stress💟

[around 100+ fics]

Note: if link doesn’t work, click on author link and go to their masterlist

🥕 Ongoing - most recent chapter [as of date this list was posted]

🥕 Completed - drabbles | one shots | series

🥕 S - smut | F - fluff | A - angst

Mostly Mature, 18+ only please

I read different members, different genres so please take note of the tags, description per fic

Don’t forget to reblog/comment on author’s work, too 😊

🥕 [Ongoing Series]

↬ Yoongi

Bad Cop Chronicles @sunshinerainbowsbts - [4/?] | 3.5k+ | Single Dad!Yoongi, Bad Cop!Yoongi, bad boy!yoongi, secret agent!reader, action | s, a

Cardiac Affairs @joheunsaram - [1/?] | 648 wc+ | drabble series, surgeon!yoongi x surgeon!reader, enemies to lovers, coworkers au, hospital au, medical au | f, a

Dating Advice @taleasnewastime - [8/?] | 19k+ | strangers to lovers, bar au, bartender!yoongi, drabble series, dating woes (for reader) | f, a, future s

Only Yesterday @borathae - [6/?] | 58.4k+ | neighbor au, strangers to lovers, small town au, slice of life, tae shop au, memory loss/amnesia, hurt/comfort fic | f, s

Renai @flowerwrites06 - [1/?] | 2k+ | fantasy au, gods/goddesses, prince!yoongi, princess!oc (Kiku, my favorite OC 🥰) | a, f

Summer @thottae - [9/?] | SMAU | frat au, rapper au, nerd!reader, college au, Just Friends!Yoongi | f, a

The Spork @chimcess - [1/?] | 7.8k+ | coworkers au, journalist!yoongi, artist!reader (Cartoonist), pianist!yoongi, slow burn, yoongi pining over ex, reader will help yoongi get ex back | s, f, a

Wish You Were Sober @prodsg - [1/?] | 4.2k+ | friends to lovers, unrequited love, pining!reader, fuckboy au, best friend au, college au | a, f

↬ Jimin

Unorthodox @chaoticneutralwriter - [30?] | 224.6k+| guardian demon!jimin, slice of life, comedy, slow burn | f, a

↬ Taehyung

Almost Deadly Desserts @kpopwitches - [5/?] | 6.3k+ | mafia!taehyung x baker!reader, comedy (taehyung’s men accidentally kidnaps her instead of rival’s daughter) | f

Lake Nantahala @kimnjss - [27/?] | SMAU with written parts | childhood friends (ex-friends), enemies to lovers, ghosted reader | a, s, f

Latte Love @pleuvoirr - [3/?] | 3.9k | drabble series, college au, barista!reader, idol!taehyung, age gap (Taehyung is 26, OC is 20) | f, future s

Poison Heart @wishesunderthestars - [2/?] | 7.6k+ | Prince!Taehyung x Queen!Reader, Royalty AU, Queendom, hurt/comfort | a

Saudade @kimvvantae - [4/?] | 86k+ | soulmate au, soulmate system is a timer (and OC’s timer points to centuries ago), supernatural au, vampire au | a, f, s

The End is You and I @yonkimint - [8/?] | SMAU | college au, friends to lovers, best friend au, advice column/secret identity | a, f

↬ Jungkook

A Business Proposal @jjeongukkie - [2/?] | SMAU with written chapters | fake dating, ceo au, comedy, boss-employee | f, a

Behemoth @bearseokie - [2/?] | 7.3k+ | lycan!jungkook, werewolf au, horror, supernatural | s, f, a

Coquet @shina913 - [3/?] | 12.4k+ | fake dating au, escort au, strangers to lovers, brother’s wedding (taehyung, cousin!jimin, THERE IS ONLY ONE BED trope (woot woot) | f, a, s

Lion and the Fox, Part 2, Part 3 @/flowerwrites06 - [3/?] | 22.8k+ | vintage au (1940s), mafia au, journalist!oc | a

Midnight Suck @kainks - [4/?] | 24k+ | vampire au, supernatural, slow burn, soulmate au, sort of mystery too | a, f

Sweet Tooth @btsgotjams27 - [3/?] | 13.6k+ | vampire au, slow burn, blood donor!reader | f, eventual s

That Time @dfdph - [2/?] | 3k+ | drabble series (not chronological), slice of life, break up au, established relationship, exes au | a

The Fallen @whoretan - [1/?] | 3.6k+ | Fallen Angel!Jungkook, fantasy au, demon au, god!jimin | a

The Hit List @/whoretan - [2/?] | 4.5k+ | Fratboy!jungkook, fuckboy au, introvert!reader, college au, popular bangtan, drunk jungkook ends up at OC’s doorstep, mistaken identity (he thought she was someone else), comedy | f, future s, a

To Be Damned | The 7 Deadly Sins @jungk0oksthighs - [5/?] | 31.5k+ | fantasy, college au, witch au, history major!reader, slow burn, demon!jungkook, witch!reader, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers | a, f, eventual s

Total Eclipse @jungkookienoona - [7/?] | 10.2k+ | action, superhero au, fantasy au, some supernatural themes, friends to lovers, archaeologist au, turned roommates of some sort knight!jungkook | a, s

Until You Survive @/ughcore - [4/?] | 21k+ | hunger games au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, war au (this was part of my reading list a year ago or so too under the author's other pseud) | a

Why We Broke Up @/jjeongukkie - [8.5/?] | SMAU with written parts | this is a repost/rewrite, break up au, chaebol!oc, rich au, rich girl x poor boy | a

↬ Multi/OT7

Seokjin x Reader | Yoongi x Reader

The People’s Princess @i-am-baechu - [13/?] | 35.9k+ | arranged marriage (with seokjin),seokjin also has another love interest, established relationship (prince!yoongi), fantasy, some lucid dreams, royalty au (western, not saeguk), fairy tale-ish | a, f, s

No Refunds @foreignfingers - [2/?] | 5.3k+ | fake dating au, neighbors au, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, love triangle, fwb!yoongi, cooking class instructor!seokjin | s, f, a

Jungkook x Reader | Jimin x Reader

Knife’s Edge @readyplayerhobi - [6/?] | 40k+ | mafia au, love triangle, infidelity au (with jimin), arranged to be married to jungkook | s, a

OT7

The Way of a Criminal @agustdakasuga - [2/?] | 6k+ | mafia au, reader’s father recently passed, sudden appearance of mafia!bangtan, father with secret identity? | a, f [on hiatus], also on ao3 → until chapter 7)

🥕 [Completed Fics/Series]

Best (Friend) Man @jjungkookislife - drabble | 735 wc | brother’s best friend, enemies to lovers | s, slight f

Butterfingers @jincherie - one shot | 8.2k | strangers to lovers, coworker au, hybrid au, teacher!namjoon, teacher assistant!reader, super fluffy | f

Meet me in your Memories @jamaiskookie - one shot | 11.8k | lucid dreams about OC, established relationship (in the dreams), memory themes, writer au, themes of mental health, themes of grief | a, f (my heart cried over this)

Pups Series @ubemango - drabble series [18/?] | 12.1k+ | established relationship, boyfriend au, college au, extra hot and super fluffy | s, f

Rely on Me @spiderlilyserendipity - drabble to Top Drawer | 792 wc | established relationship, hurt/comfort, producer!namjoon x producer!reader, bad day kind of fic | f, a

Ride or Die @jungcock - one shot | 6.9k | part of the themed series: BTS Road Trip Collab, childhood friends au, bestfriend au, unrequited, OC in a toxic relationship with Jungkook, bad girl!reader, infidelity themes | a, s

Something in the Way @tayegi - two shot [2/2] | 12.2k+ | werewolf au, ceo!namjoon, hired!reader to help with the heat, sex worker au (I guess but make it werewolf universe), sugar daddy au, strangers to lovers | s (there was supposed to be another chapter but tagging this is two-shot

A Dose of Relief @bangtanlalaland - one shot | 5.7k | scientist au (both of them), coworkers au, crack/humor | s

I Can't be with You @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue - one shot | 3.5k | exes au, rich au, Seokjin from prominent family | a

Across the Hall @gukslut - one shot | 4.7k | humor, neighbor au, flirty!oc, writer!yoongi, mission to seduce yoongi | f, s

Broken Hearts Club @bbangpanmen - SMAU | broken-hearted OC (yoongi too), best friends to lovers au except you’re not the best friend, strangers to lovers | f, slight a

Canvas @kidguk - one shot | 3.2k | soulmate, but kind of sad (emotional constipation themes), soulmate system: colors indicate how much you’ve fallen for your soulmate | a, s, f

Caprice @mytaerminology - one shot | 3.4k | husband!yoongi x brat!reader, vacation au | s

Fermata @jeongi - one shot | 5.8k | pianist au, kind of rivals (known since childhood), composer!yoongi | s, f

Fuck Being Friends @strawberrynamjoon - one shot | 12k | unrequited, pining!reader, best friend au, college au, fuckboy!yoongi, tired OC x oblivious yoongi | a, f

FWb with Yoongi @btssmutgalore - drabble | 1k | part of the themes series: FWB with BTS, fwb au, secret relationship | s

Kiss Me at Midnight @jungshookz - bulleted | 8.1k | rom-com, CEO!reader, secretary!yoongi, secret pining, comedy, new year au | f

Lovers’ Paradox @taesthetes - one shot | 10.5k | part of a themed series Bangtan Police Unit, slice of life, humor, enemies to lovers, coworker au, office au, this is super cute (the bangtan police shenanigan is in full force) | f

Make Me @ppersonna - one shot | 4.4k | best friend au, dirty fluff (trust me on this), sleepover feat. very noisy neighbors | s, f

Mezzanine @/mytaerminology - one shot | 3.4k | idol au, pining, the one that got away (totga), coworker au, staff!reader | a

Recite @blkjmn - drabble | 844 wc | pastor!yoongi, taboo | s

Soon @ppersonna - one shot | 3.1k | established relationship, impreg kink | f, s

The King’s Serpent @apotaeose - drabble | 1.6k | daechwita!yoongi, mercenary!reader, assassin au, badass!oc, royalty | s (implied)

The Story of Us @eleventoes - one shot | 7.1k | exes au, mutual pining, a bit poetic (at least Yoongi’s POV) | f, a

Virulent @honeyedhoseok - drabble | 3.7k | kind of bad boy au, unstable/moody yoongi, on-and-off relationship | a, s

Yoongi, It’s Y/N @seokjinish - one shot | 13.9k | action (? the car racing part was exhilarating), badass!oc, coworker au, racing au, mechanic!reader, engineer!reader, racer!yoongi, i love how this made the world of racing so fascinating (didn’t know about such politics/favored racers, etc) | a, f, s

💟Yoongi Birthday Reblogs (40 fics)💟

🎂 around 40 fics

🎂 some of my favorite yoongi fics from long ago

🎂 couldn’t add to this list because of limit (but will create a separate fic rec list for yoongi instead 🥰

100 to 1 @mytaerminology - one shot | 6.7k | established relationship, LDR, boyfriend au, idol | s, f

Double-cross (my heart and hope to die) @taesthetes - one shot | 9.2k | part of a themed series Bangtan Police Unit, humor, slice of life, police au, strangers to lovers, muralist!reader, secret identity, artist!reader, office set up (but make it the precinct) | f

Heat @writtenyoongi - one shot | 23k | racer au, street racers, rivals, enemies to lovers theme, secret identity (oc wears a helmet all the time), star-crossed (kind of), secret relationship, college au, poor!hoseok, action | a, f, s

I Flirt in #MyCalvins @bxebxee - drabble | >3k | humor, staff!reader, model!hoseok, coworker | s (but it’s really just flirting)

Next @dreamscript - one shot | 2.8k | humor, best friend au, college au, a drabble about pick up lines! (cute) | f

Show Off @taeverie - one shot | 7k | roommate au, camboy au, sub!hoseok | s

💟 PART 2 | Maknae Line 💟

posted: 2022 June 16

link to other reading lists

other fic rec lists (by theme)

2K notes · View notes

justkennadi · 6 months

Text

Happy Halloween…🧡🖤🧡🖤

Notes: Special post for halloween 😍🤗 this is what the poll was for too btw. Not a continuation of my mini series either. Not proof read.

Content: Nerd!Armin x blk!fem reader, mentions of drinking and one sorta nsfw joke at the end

It’s halloween night and this time it wasn’t Eren throwing a party but Reiner. You didn’t like him that much but a party’s a party and it’s halloween!!

You decided on a vampire like fit since it was last minute. You were going with Mikasa and Eren who just decided to be thing one and thing two.

The party wasn’t far so the three of you decided to walk. Eren and Mikasa went to your house to pick you up so you alll could walk together.

“You’ll finally get to meet Armin!” Mikasa exclaimed as you three walked to the party.

From what you knew Armin was their 3rd friend before you and was realll nerdy now so he was often caught up with homework or studying. You went sure how Eren or Mikasa convinced him to put the book down for a party but you were a bit glad tbh. You really wanted to meet him especially since you had a thing for nerdy guys maybe he was cute…

It was obvious which house the party was behind held at. The music was so loud you could faintly hear it at your own house!

Once inside you, Eren and Mikasa push through a sea of dancing monsters, fake celebrities and other goofy dressed people. Eren got distracted somewhere in that sea but you and mikasa made it to a kitchen area. Mikasa yells she’s going to get a drink but you barely hear her so you just nod while still walking.

You weren’t really sure where to go or what to. You thought about getting a drink or two yourself but before you can finish that thought you bump into a slightly tall ghostface.

“Oh, sorry, my fault.” You say quickly looking at him.

He just stands there a bit and you were about to question it until Mikasa catches up to you.

“Im back- Oh hey Armin!”

Oh, so this was Armin?

He just waves and you both look at each other. Mikasa notices and tries to further introduce you two.

It’s still kinda awkward and also kinda hard to hear so Mikasa pulls you two outside where there were let people.

“Guys loosen up! It’s a party!” Mikasa exclaimed taking a sip from here drink. “Y’know what? You two just need a drink too, wait right here!”

And just like that she was off. You were starting to think she was an extreme lightweight.

“Soooo..” You said breaking the ice. “What made you not wanna nerd out tonight?”

Armin shrugged and looked down then away.

“What’s your major?” You ask.

He mutters something that has science at the end of it.

Smirking you say, “Can you take your mask off? I cant hear you..”

He slowly takes the mask off and you’re baffled.

He has the rosiest cheeks right now but he also had gorgeous blue eyes and soft looking lips. Also the curliest looking blonde hair. Adorable.

“Hey handsome..” You said playfully poking him. He just smiled and looked away.

Clearly he was shy but you found that cute as hell.

Mikasa comes back with two cups and hands them to you both.

“He’s so shy, Kasa..” You whisper in her ear.

“He’s just like that at first just give it time.” She says. “I’m gonna go dance and find Eren you two have fun out here ok?”

“Sureee..” You say sipping from the cup.

She runs off and you look back at the blushing blonde boy in front of you.

“Comeon, talk to me Min.” You say playfully.

His face reddens at the nickname and he says, “I like your costume..”

“Thankssss!” You twirl for him. “I liked yours too.”

He smiled.

The two of you talked outside for a bit longer. Armin finally started to open up more especially with the drink in his system. He even accidentally slipped he thought you were stunning and hot.

“Aw, thank you minniee!!” You say giddy.

He looks very embarrassed because of that but still smiles at your reaction.

“Hey, so i gotta go but…can i get your number?” Armin asks.

You smile big and quickly write your number on a candy wrapper and hand it to him saying, “Happy Halloween!”

He chuckled at this and turned to leave.

You were sad to see him go but once he did the party started dying down and here comes Mikasa again. This time Eren is with her.

“She partied too hard so times up, y/n.” Eren laughed.

“Nuh uh.” Mikasa says wobbling a bit.

You laughed and started walking with them. Eren asks about armin and how he missed him and you tell him he’s fine.

“He was dressed as ghost head!” Mikasa exclaimed.

“Ghostface.” You corrected.

“Well so was Connie and Marco.” Eren says. “I couldn’t tell who was who!”

Just then you get a buzz in your pocket from your phone. As Mikasa and Eren talk about party and read the text you got from and unknown sender.

- Hey, It’s Armin…

- I know vampires suck blood but i’d love to know if you’re down to suck something else ;)

You smile big at your phone as you demand an address. Did you just score a cute boy who happens to be intelligent as well??

Oh happy halloween to you….

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aphrodisiac-siren · 1 year

Text

Coffee and Cigarettes~

Modern!Aemond X Reader

Summary: When Aemond's date doesn’t go as planned, one of his feisty classmates comes to his aid and manages to catch his eye, and not by her beauty, but mostly by her bold personality.

~my wifey @its-actually-minicika helped with the plot points and she gets loads of kissies for it mwaahh~

Also I'm sorry I went on a small break oops maybe the next chapter will be spicy?👀

Part 1, Part 2

Part 3

"What do you mean you don't see it?"

Aemond scrunched his nose as Y/N brought her hands up to cup his face, squishing his cheeks as she tiled his face to the side for Aegon to see as if his own brother hadn’t any memory of what he looked like.

"Tell me he doesn’t look like Alucard" she asked the older boy, still holding Aemond's face while he tried to wiggle out of her grasp. He wrapped his larger hand around her smaller wrists and she obliged and let go of his reddening face but let her hands drop onto his lap; a subtle gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Aemond.

"That vampire dude from Castlevania?" Aegon asked as he cocked a brow "I mean I would say yes, when my twat of a brother had his hair all grown out. But I still find it offensive you'd compare this monkey to him"

Aemond only rolled his eye, not too keen on arguing with his brother of all people, but Y/N was quick to respond.

"That's so mean, Aemond is hot"

Aegon chortled at this while Aemond gave her a sly smile, as if he didn’t believe a single word from the sentence that left her lips. And even though she sounded genuine, there was no fucking way she believed what she herself uttered.

Flattery at its finest, he thought.

He picked up his book once again, the one he had been reading before the entire debate of him and Alucard being lookalikes commenced. It was this old book he'd found in a bookstore, dusty and on the 'sale' rack and he wondered how anyone could pass by a book like this one and not want to pick it up and glance through it.

"Put that book down will you?" Aegon rolled his eyes from behind the kitchen counter as he fixed himself a cup of coffee "your obsession with dragons is getting weird now"

"I'm not obsessed" Aemond nonchalantly replied, not bothering to look up from the pages that bore the most interesting information in his opinion. He was well aware his boyish fancy with the mythical creatures would come across as odd and childish to most people but he didn’t really care much about Aegon's opinion and in the few weeks that he'd spent with Y/N, he came to a conclusion that she was not really one to judge someone for things as such.

Either she was too nice or just didn’t care.

"Dragons huh" She leaned closer and Aemond was expecting for her glance into the book but she instead rested her head in his lap as she examined the cover of the book he held from underneath "what's your favourite kind?"

"Oh god, don’t tell me you’re just as much of a nerd as he is" Aegon called out and Y/N simply rolled her eyes in response as she flipped him off to which Aegon responded to by sticking out his tongue "they're all the same. Large lizards with wings"

"Not exactly" Both Aemond and Y/N said at the same time and while the younger Targaryen brother took a moment to ponder over their perfectly synchronised response, Y/N continued to talk, as if their chorus of an answer did not fascinate her.

"There are European dragons, wyverns and Asian dragons" she spoke aloud as she traced the cover of the book, hoping that Aemond had a good grip on the book or else it would fall right onto her face "each one differs from the next. Did you know that-"

Aegon let out a dramatic groan as he plugged his ears shut like a child throwing a tantrum.

"You like dragons?" Aemond asked even though the answer was pretty obvious. He just never thought she of all people would be interested in something like this that most would term as nerdy.

"Duh" Y/N replied, now rather eager and enthusiastic about the conversation taking place "I had this one book when I was a kid by Earnest Drake and-"

"Not another word or I'll change my opinion of you being one of the cool kids"

"I am, regardless of what you say" the girl instantly retorted "dragons are pretty cool"

Aemond grinned at this, as if it was a compliment directed straight at him and not the bloody dragons that he was reading about. Furthermore, he was rather impressed and surprised in equal measure, that she of all people would have any remote knowledge about dragons.

The boy all of a sudden felt himself smiling even wider and he wanted more than anything to go on a whole-ass rant but he kept his composure so as to not frighten her off with his enthusiasm for the winged beasts.

He simply shut the book, after placing his bookmark amidst the pages, and gently booped her nosed with the spine of the book.

"Hey" Y/N giggled as she scrunched her nose, fondly looking up at the boy who was gazing down at her with the same level of fondness "what was that for"

"I didn’t do anything" Aemond snidely said as he shrugged, leaning slightly to his right to keep the book back onto the little table by the couch.

All of a sudden he couldn’t care any less about the book. He was far more curious to figure out the pretty girl who's head rested in his lap. What other interests did she have? Did she like literature too? Would she find ancient languages fascinating? Did she like Aemond? What would her lipgloss taste like? Would she moan or whimper if he-

What-

Aemond's eye widened at his own thoughts. Why the fuck would he even think of-

Stop it Aemond, He scolded himself inwardly she's your friend.

"What" she asked again with a smile as she looked up at Aemond who had momentarily zoned out and then tried to play it off by clearing his throat in a completely not-an-awkward way.

"I mh- nothing, just zoned out" Aemond said in his monotone voice that Y/N was slowly starting to find adorable rather than daunting.

"Just zoned out" she repeated and for a moment Aemond was willing to bet she had read his thoughts despite how ridiculous and impossible the probability of that happening was.

To his contentment, all she did was hum and get comfortable in his lap.

"Movie?" she asked aloud and Aegon shot her a thumbs up as Aemond nodded in agreement.

The silence that accompanied them as they scrolled through Netflix lasted only about a few seconds before each one tried to argue and pick the film they liked best. It was like a classroom full of toddlers who had gotten into a heated debate over who their favourite superhero was.

"We're not watching some shitty ass rom-com" Aegon blew a raspberry "we're going to watch a class-A horror movie"

"Absolutely not" Y/N snapped "you didn’t even hear me out to see which movie I picked"

"I think Hacksaw Ridge is the best pick" Aemond snatched the remote before Y/N could, which resulted in the girl pouting just to see if it would make Aemond submit to her.

It didn’t.

"Nice try" He chuckled which then only made the girl more irritable. She continued to stare at him, her gaze almost burning into his soul as she inched closer and closer until her chest was borderline pressed against his, her nose barely touching his and Aemond knew for a fact that one little move and her lips would collide into his and judging by the mischievous smirk dancing on her lips, she was well aware of it as well.

His heart almost leaped out of his chest when he felt her brush her bottom lip against his own and for those few milliseconds his brain short-circuited. He was about to have a full-blown heart attack but she pulled back and waved the remote proudly in his face that he was holding on to only a few moments ago; which he had absolutely no idea of when she snatched it out of his grasp.

Aemond heard his brother mumble an 'ew' under his breath but he decided not to comment nor give either of them a reaction even though his heart was beating faster. When she turned around to continue her argument with Aegon about the movie, Aemond discreetly swiped his tongue over his bottom lip- right where she'd brushed her own lips.

He softly hummed to himself when he tasted the faintest hint of her cherry lipgloss that she'd left behind in those few seconds of contact and he had to once again scold himself when he caught his brain thinking about wanting to taste more of it.

In the end, Aegon agreed to watch Y/N's choice of movie after they'd watched the horror movie he'd suggested.

Not having any more energy to argue, Y/N and Aemond just agreed.

"Don't worry Aems" she whispered into his ear as they got comfortable under the blankets on the couch "we both can watch your movie after Aeg drifts off to sleep. Or maybe spend the rest of the night in a different way, if you know what I mean"

Aemond's cheeks turned red and he was thankful that the lights were turned off. Y/N didn’t bother waiting for an answer nor did she bother clarifying if she was joking or being serious.

"Cig?" Aegon asked Aemond as he picked one from the pack for himself. The younger brother swiftly took the lone cig from his hand and then the pack which made Aegon sit upright in retaliation "yo what the fu-"

"Not right now" Aemond said sternly as he placed the cigarettes aside and away from Aegon, shooting his thumb in the direction where Y/N was sitting "she doesn’t like it"

Y/N bit the insides of her cheeks to stop herself from smiling; for some reason, she found the gesture cute.

"Simp" Aegon mumbled.

"Shut up" Aemond snapped.

And just to annoy him, Aegon repeated it again, emphasising the 'p' sound at the end that had Aemond groan and Y/N chuckle at their antics.

The excitement that Y/N had when starting the horror movie quickly died down since the movie Aegon picked did not live upto her expectations. The plot was cliché and the jump scares were poorly executed.

"Remind me why we're watching this again?" she asked as she made a face at the pathetic acting.

"Cause the leading actress is hot" Aegon smirked "nice tits"

Y/N rolled her eyes but then again, she wasn’t really surprised by his answer.

"I was more interested in our talks about those books" she whispered in Aemond's ear, making sure to brush her lips against his hot skin "dragons are pretty fascinating eh? Maybe you can show me yours"

Aemond's eye widened and he immediately turned to face her.

"Books" she said with a straight face, inwardly enjoying his abashed reaction to her cheeky statement "I meant you can show me your books on dragons that you have"

"Right" Aemond cleared his throat, quickly looking away from her and back toward the T.V. screen "books, of course"

Aemond wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what she meant and he knew she wasn’t one to shy away from even doing whatever was on her mind- be it something as innocent as a kiss or something too sinful to even say aloud. The only thing that he found odd was that if he ever found himself in a situation that fell into either of the two categories, he did not seem to mind as long as it was with her.

What caused this sudden change? He couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was her feistiness from that day at the cafe or that underneath all of her ferociousness was a girl who was just as much of a geek as him and didn’t give two fucks about it.

Was he starting to like her? Probably.

Should he allow himself to like her? Probably not.

He was well aware he never had much luck when it came to dating and he wasn’t going to allow himself to get his hopes up only for it all to get shattered right to the ground.

But then again, she barely gave him any reason to feel insecure. That was a good sign, right?

Right?

Taglist: @melsunshine @yentroucnagol @alexa4040 @boofy1998 @rorawinters @fan-goddess @howdoichangemynameto

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond

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