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#which like. duh. he was the only one that would have made sense
keclan · 1 year
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the nevers part 2 said "there's a lady in the phone lines! and she wants to kill!" and i was like this might as well happen
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earthtooz · 1 year
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x : NO FEAR :*+゚ i wanna love you with no fear !
in which: itoshi rin rejected you, so why isn't he handling your avoidance well?
warnings: 5k wc, fluff with minor angst, jealous!rin, food cw, swearing, reo is reader's best friend, COLLEGE!AU, gn!reader, non-canon complaint
a/n: happy valentine's day !!! shoutout to @ryekoo for finally giving me inspo on what to do for the rin fic of my event - u rly saved my life <3
↳ 5K EVENT MASTERLIST ༉‧₊
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you:i’m going to end you. <reo3: i’m too pretty to die ._. you: and you told me i was too pretty for itoshi rin to reject!?!?!?! <reo3: oh... <reo3: i’m sorry. <reo3: condolences fr.
with a disappointed sigh, you pocket your phone, decidedly ignoring the next few messages that reo sends as you wait for your bus. he owes you a million yen for the amount of grief and distress he’s currently putting you through, especially with the way he shattered all hopes you had with your love life.
well, hopes that you were stupid enough to feed into because this was itoshi rin you’re talking about; possibly the most standoffish, calculated, and devastatingly gorgeous man you’ve ever met in your life. yet, despite his detestable personality, you still found yourself falling hook, line, and sinker for the man, despite his insults, cold comments, and dismissive attitude.
maybe it’s masochism. 
now that you look back on it, rin’s rejection seemed almost inevitable. even if you lead yourself to hope with all the times you caught him staring at you, the prompt replies to your messages, and willingness to somewhat tolerate you during group projects, it was rather obvious that this would be the outcome to your heartfelt confession. 
‘i don’t see you like that’.
it’s cringeworthy simply thinking about it. now you’re going to have another memory that’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.
recalling the expression he made after your confession; eyebrows scrunched and lips tugged into a slight frown, was traumatising enough for you to wish for the ground to swallow you whole. his face will plague you for an uncertain amount of time because today truly, was so very humbling.
the sight of your bus approaching your stop rouses you from the crevices of your thoughts and after you jump on and settle yourself into a seat in the relatively empty carriage, you bring your phone out to text reo again. he’d sent four messages since.
&lt;reo3: this doesn’t make any sense we all thought rin was into you &lt;reo3: like DOWN BAD into you<reo3: everyone on the team has literally made bets on you two <reo3: i’m sorry :c r u okay?  you: yeah. just gotta take the L and move on you: hey at least i’m free for valentines <reo3: LET’S GOOO we’re definitely doing something <reo3: i’ll be a better valentines than r*n you: you’re sexier too babes xoxo <reo3: duh!
maybe you’ll let reo see another day. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
your university schedule was never the same after the ‘itoshi rin’ fiasco.
it was never an amazing schedule to begin with since a few classes were quite inconvenient, and there’s only so much to enjoy out of your seminars. the fun part about them was being able to sit beside rin and talk to him whenever you could without getting waved off, but since his heartless decline of your feelings, acting ‘buddy-buddy’ wouldn’t be acceptable. so you resorted to sit by yourself in a section of the space you’ve never really occupied before, busying yourself on your phone as students walked in to class.
despite the temptation to look at the door to see when rin would come in, you do not budge one bit, eyes glued to your phone screen (which had nothing entertaining on it). this meant that you couldn’t see the confusion on his face when he didn’t see you in your normal spot and how it merged further into a look of offence when he instead spots you across the room.
reluctantly taking his usual seat, rin’s gaze lingers on you, hoping to meet your eyes at least once. but upon your insistence to pretend your phone was more important than him, he sits down, practically flopping onto his chair with his backpack cushioning his fall. 
sitting here feels a little empty. rin can’t help but think how it used to be much better when you insisted on being next to him.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 
&lt;;reo3: you can come now rin isn’t here yet
you: kk b there soon
the trek across campus towards the university’s soccer field, although long, is harmless enough, especially since you were doing a favour for your best friend by bringing the soccer guards and water bottle that he left at your dorm. the harmful part was the looming threat of itoshi rin’s presence and your fear that you would encounter him on your way. 
all you needed to do was drop in quickly and leave. 
when you get to the field, nagi’s the one who sees you first from where he was lounging on the bleaches, changed in his soccer gear. 
“oh, y/n,” he mumbles, sitting up. “hello.”
“hey nagi. are you trying to nap before practice or something?” you ask.
“yeah.” 
“won’t that drain you though before practice starts? you’ve got like… five minutes.”
“still classified as a power nap. wanna collect a power up before startin’.”
amusing as ever, he is. “sure. hey, you know where reo is?”
“he’s changed, probably warming up with isagi and bachira and whoever else.”
“shouldn’t you be doing that too?”
“not until reo forces me to.”
as if on cue, a friendly and very familiar voice calls out nagi’s name and you’re delighted to see the purple-haired in question. you can finally give him his stupid stuff back; the ones you’ve been holding in your hands this entire time like an idiot.
“come on nagi!” reo exclaims, jogging over. a smile appears on his face when he sees you. “yo! y/n! thanks for bringing my things.”
“‘s not a problem. next time i’ll burn them so don’t leave them again,” you counter as the purple-haired takes his things from you with an eye roll. “i filled up your water bottle for you.” 
he places his things down before sitting beside nagi to put his guards on. “so considerate even whilst terrorising me.”
“of course.”
“seriously though, thank you for bringing my things.”
“not a problem. i’m gonna head back to my dorm to study so i’ll see you later. bye reo, bye nagi,” you wave at the two, fixing your backpack strap before turning around to leave the field, only to bump face-first into someone.
the apology that surfaces on your tongue quickly withers away when you lock eyes with a pair of steely, teal ones, partially hidden by strands of dark hair. he looks at you like he has something to say.
but you’re not ready to hear it. 
“uh, hi rin! gotta go!” you squeak before stepping to the side and running away, leaving rin to stare in bewilderment after you.
part of him has the urge to run after you. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
<reo3: isagi’s invited a bunch of us to the on campus screening of spirited away
<reo3: wanna come?
you: ykw why not
you: not like i have essays to write
<reo3: FUCK THEM ESSAYS! 
you: YOU’RE RIGHT SPIRITED AWAY IS BETTER !
if you knew that this would lead you to be seated (uncomfortably) between reo and isagi, who acted as the only barrier between you and an-unnamed-man (rin), then perhaps you would’ve dedicated yourself to your essay rather than a fun opportunity to hang out with your friends. 
1500 words sounds better than having to pretend like there wasn’t an icy cold stare penetrating the back of your head every time you turned to talk to reo, or isagi trying to keep his interactions up with rin so the latter wouldn’t try to talk to you.
you owe isagi a vending machine drink after this because a ‘thank you’ will never suffice. 
it’s easy enough to forget about rin when the movie plays and isagi begins whispering little pieces of commentary to you from time to time, eliciting giggles from you that you try to suppress to not annoy those around you. however, each sound that slipped past your lips was enough to make the dark-haired boy scrunch his face in disgust, an ugly, green monster climbing up his throat when he catches a glimpse of how happy you seemed with someone that wasn’t him. it kills him to see how easily it is for you to just ignore him like your friendship never existed.
since the campus movie was scheduled during a cool but bearable, autumn dusk, you severely underestimated how cold the night would get. heating wasn’t the best in the gymnasium so the committee had instructed everyone to bring their own blankets and warm covers, yet in your haste, you couldn’t bring adequate layers.
so after a while of trying to warm yourself up and convincing yourself that you were warm enough with a measly sweatshirt, rin notices from the corner of his eye how you kept rubbing your arms. 
he doesn’t hesitate to take off the fleece jacket that he was wearing over his university jumper. sure, it will be significantly colder without his outer layer, but rin’s willing to suffer as long as you were okay (when has he ever been this considerate?), except he stops when he sees nagi handing you his very oversized jumper. you accept it with a gracious smile and the white-haired boy merely shrugs before going back to watching the film. rin, on the other hand, feels a cauldron of rage brewing within him.
the sight makes his chest twist, wringing him dry as he stares dejectedly at how snug you seem in someone else’s clothes. the green monster inside of rin bubbles in contempt, a being that makes him want to rip the hoodie off you and replace it with his own for you to wrap yourself up in. he wants you to be content with him- happy because of him, not because of another.
you confessed to him only two weeks ago- barely even two weeks ago, so how could you so easily forget about him and move on? pretend like his rejection didn’t shatter you and him when he saw a devastation like no other on your pretty face?
rin doesn’t know how much longer he can live like this. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
the following tuesday, you’re already seated in your new spot for your seminar, busy setting up your laptop in preparation when rin walks in. you see him from the corner of your eye, backpack slung around his shoulder, hands tucked unassumingly in his pockets as all 185cm of him saunters towards the seats. however, when you notice that he bypasses his normal spot and walks even further out of your peripheral vision, alarms blare deafeningly in your head.
you freeze when you hear someone take the seat behind you.
there’s a hard gaze on the back of your head, one that roots you to your spot and wills you not to turn around.
sneaking out your phone from your bag, you hide it so that rin can’t see it from his angle. 
you: RIN IS SITTING BEHIND ME OH NO
you: terrible start to valentines day smh
<reo3: WHAT!??!!???!???! fr.
you: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY I’M GOING TO DISINTEGRATE RIGHT NOW
<reo3: maybe *don’t* do that???? 
<reo3: WHY’S HE SITTING BEHIND YOU?????
you: FUCK IF I KNOW IT FEELS LIKE HE’S THROWING DAGGERS AT MY HEAD
<reo3: WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO?
you: CRY???????????? IDFK???????????
you: oh fuck class is about to start
you: i’ll let you know if anything happens
<reo3: STAY SAFE 
you tuck your phone away with fear and dread looming over you, personified through the form of itoshi rin, who sits so indifferently behind you, head propped on his hand. you hear his pen click behind you and you don’t even need to see him to know that he’s taking out that stupid notebook of his since he preferred to take notes by hand. you want to turn around and rip said book into shreds.
as the professor starts the class, you try your best to shake rin out of your thoughts, wanting to leave him behind in the depths of your mind so you can concentrate on this damn elective. none of the notes you were typing onto your document made sense and it felt like everything the professor was saying went in one ear then out the other. curse rin for having this effect on you. 
at least you get to gossip with reo after this.
though your seminar was only 60 minutes, it might as well have been 60 years because of how significantly older you feel at the end of it. the weight of rin’s stare was heavy on your shoulders when you hurriedly grab your things and make a dash for the exit.
well. you try to make a dash for the exit because somehow, rin gained the ability to teleport and beat you there, grabbing your wrist unceremoniously before pulling you into the hallways. you fumble with your phone, hurriedly texting reo.
you: UHH MAYDAY I MGHT NEEE TO SKIP OUR PLANS
<reo3: WHAT’S HAPPENING?????
you: RIN IS DRSGGING ME SIMEWHERE IDK WHERE
you: MY LOCARION IS ON LIFE360
you: I LUV YOU STUPID WHORE
<reo3: WHDJFWIJAIDJFAWHAT THE FUCK????
“hey!” you exclaim, helplessly being pulled by rin’s long strides, shutting your phone off as you try to match his eagerness. he could at least be a little more considerate and lighten up that grip of his on your wrist. “rin- what? where are we going?”
“you’ll see,” he responds gruffly.
your mind blanks despite the hurricane of questions that circulate your mind. how did you get here? is the delirium finally hitting you after countless sleepless nights? you stayed up until 2am last night to make valentine’s chocolates for your friends so maybe it’s the sugar and the sleep deprivation. 
as rin pulls you through the hallways, you think about how weird it is to allow him this close to you again- well, you didn’t exactly allow him, he kind of just… invaded your personal space. but after a whole week of not talking to him, responding dryly to his texts, avoiding your regular hangout spots, and overall pretending like he doesn’t exist, being exposed to his intimidating presence once more is… exhilarating? unreal? 
“wait, can we stop for a second?” you demand, breaking out of your funk when you step outside as if the harshness of the sun’s rays woke you up. “i’m so confused right now. where are we going?”
“we’re going to have lunch together at that café you’ve been wanting to try out,” he tells you with a serious expression, not breaking his usual aloof and stern personality. 
rin doesn’t give mixed messages: no, he gives messages that have completely been lost, fallen astray somewhere along the path of communication.
shifting your weight between your feet awkwardly, you tell him: “well, i kinda had valentine’s plans.”
his mask of coolness and uninterest cracks, exposing all the emotions he’s been withholding from surfacing for the past weeks; jealousy, envy, greed, they all manifest through the helpless scrunch of his face. “with who?” asks rin, tone a lot harsher than he had intended, matching the crease of his eyebrows and the frown he was wearing.
it’s the green monster in him talking.
if you were going out with someone else, someone new, rin’s not too sure what he’d do. determination and pettiness can only take a man so far before his resolve cracks and you have the power to crush his heart with a single stomp, extinguishing his flames in one, swift sweep. 
“with reo,” you confess. the dark-haired relaxes again, his face returning to a neutral expression.
“okay. ditch him then.” his audacity is baffling.
“i can’t just do that!” 
“why not?”
“cause that’s a shitty thing to do!” you say, before murmuring under your breath, “not that you’d know the first thing about being polite.” 
“i don’t care, it’s reo, you two hang out everyday. tell him to give me a turn.”
“you’re a horrible person, rin,” you murmur, ignoring the butterflies that erupt in your stomach.
he doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely eyeing you expectantly, waiting for your next step. huffing, you reluctantly take out your phone as a sign of surrender under his suffocating pressure, muttering complaints under your breath as you find reo’s contact - literally your most recent one, to send him a quick message. almost instantly, your best friend responds with a thumbs up paired with a smirk and you almost want to block him then and there. 
“done.”
“perfect,” rin goes to grab your hand again but you retract from him just in time. when you look up to meet his gaze once more, you see his unimpressed expression whilst he keeps his palm extended towards you expectantly.
“i don’t need your help walking places,” you grumble, not liking how fast your heart was racing.
he gestures to his open palm once more. “i know.”
after a moment of silence, you give in, hesitantly placing your hand in his. with a small grin, rin intertwines your fingers before pulling you to his side. without another word, he begins walking, leaving you to merely follow the brutally fast pace he’s set.
you must’ve looked ridiculous to other people. being dragged around by an 185 cm man, how humbling.
the place rin led you to was not too far from campus; a totally manageable distance for the two of you to remain in silence during the walk. you try to bypass the awkwardness of it all by focusing on other things, like how warm rin’s hand is and how you hope he doesn’t mind your sweaty hands. he seems to be content from what you’ve observed, happily walking beside you whilst sparing a few occasional glances over; ones that you pretend you don’t see whilst admiring the cityscape around you.
there are various valentine’s decorations hung up around the insides of the cafe that made you cringe slightly. although they were very cute, you feel humiliation climbing up your throat, serving as a reminder that you were currently spending a day of love and romance, or whatever, standing beside the very man who rejected you. 
this is the cruellest version of a sick joke.
“welcome!” a cheery voice greets, breaking you out of your thoughts. “table for two?” rin nods. “perfect! are you here for valentine’s day because couples get access to a special menu on top of our regular one.” 
when you open your mouth to reject her offer, rin beats you to it. “we’ll take the valentine’s menu.”
“okay, right this way,” the waitress guides you to an empty table for two that was right by the corner. the atmosphere of the place was cozy with various candles and statement pieces to really bring it together, but you have no time or brain space to appreciate the aesthetic of the café. 
it’s not until the waitress leaves that you speak up, utterly confused. “why’d you get the valentine’s menu, we-”
realisation hits you like a truck. 
“-are we on a date right now?”
rin’s unmoving, save for the purse of his lips as he stares at you. you feel a little foolish right now.
“yeah, we are,” he answers, curtly and concisely.
alarms are blaring in your head, the earth is tremoring below you, there are distant screams somewhere in the back of your mind and all you can manage out is a simple ‘oh’. 
“get what you want, i’ll-” rin begins before you abruptly cut him off.
“-no, hold on, i’m so confused right now,” you rub your temples, staring at the stupid valentine’s day menu decorated with pink and hearts and chocolates. “why?”
“why what?”
“why are we on a date?”
“because it’s valentine’s day?”
“well- i know that part,” you murmur under your breath. “it’s just, y’know, people celebrate this day when they like each other.” and not when one party is miserable because the other rejected them. 
“we do like each other though.”
there are no words to describe the shock you feel. really. not even an anvil dropping on your head could wake you up from whatever dream you are conjuring right now. 
“no, we don’t! i like you, you don’t like me.”
he looks away, the tips of his ears turning red. “that’s not true,” he murmurs, no louder than a whisper, yet your jaw drops all the same at his confession. “i do like you.”
“a week ago you didn’t!” 
“a week ago i wasn’t ready to get into a… relationship… or whatever.”
“oh,” you fix the strap of your bag, feeling slightly awkward. “and you’re ready now all of a sudden?”
“yeah.”
“i don’t believe you.”
“the fuck? why?” 
“you don’t really seem like the type of guy to turn around on yourself like this. what changed?”
rin won’t ever tell you about how much he missed you during these two weeks and how it was his jealousy and greediness that spurred him to act on his feelings. instead, he simply slides the menu to you, pointing to a milkshake-‘lover’s brew’, and since the menu was decorated with pictures on the side, you could see what the concoction consisted of. whipped cream, heart sprinkles, topped with a caramel heart and fairy floss. 
“the milkshake?” you ask, trailing off towards the end. “you hate sweet things and this especially looks like it could give you diabetes.”
the dark-haired shrugs. “so? i thought you’d like it.” 
“sure, but it is kinda pricey for a milkshake.”
he shrugs again, putting his elbows on the table which causes his sleeves of his turtleneck to roll down a little, exposing the shiny silver of his, no doubt expensive, watch. “i’ll pay for us, it’s fine.”
“hold on-”
“i’m paying. end of argument.” 
it’s an offer you can’t really reject. being a university student and all, funds are limited, so wherever you can, you want to avoid withdrawing money out of your account. that said, it doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about draining rin’s, but with how long you’ve been friends, you know that once he’s set his mind to something, it’s hard to change it.
“if you insist,” you grumble, straightening up your spine as you awkwardly fiddle with your shirt. you feel so scrutinised under his gaze, even as you reach for the jug of water and pour two cups of water. “what else should we get?”
the waitress then comes around to take your orders and when she’s gone, conversation flows easily, reverting back to how things were between the two of you (to rin’s relief). he listens as you talk animatedly about the unfortunate series of events you had with your professor the other day, how cute your encounter with the campus dogs were, and the really unfortunate run-in you had with a guy from your shared tutorial classes.
(the dark-haired boy makes a face when you mention another man’s name before his usual face of indifference melts back in.)
“here’s your milkshake,” the waitress says, placing the drink in the middle of the table before walking away, “you guys are really cute by the way.”
“thanks,” rin says calmly, a stark contrast to your flustered reaction.
two straws stick out from the milkshake and when you put one in your mouth, you almost choke when rin takes the other one, causing your noses to bump in the middle. the look he gives you is nothing short of mischievous before pulling away, a knowing smirk playing along his lips. 
“ew. that is really sweet,” he mutters before leaning back, crossing his arms. 
“yeah,” you cough. “it is really sweet.”
recovering from your embarrassment, the rest of lunch goes by quite seamlessly. he goes to pay for everything with a confident tap of his card, causing you to stand awkwardly behind him, keeping all complaints to yourself as it goes through. thanking the waitress, you leave the café hand-in-hand once more. 
“thanks again for paying,” you repeat and rin gives a hum of acknowledgement whilst you two walk aimlessly on the path. “what do you want to do now?”
“i don’t know. do you have anything you want to do?”
“i might have an idea.”
leading him in the direction of a nearby store that just opened recently, you come to a stop in front of a shop that had neon-lights illuminating its inside and claw machines filled with adorable plushies lining along the walls. 
glancing at him, there’s a glimmer of amusement in rin’s eyes as his lips turn upwards into a small smirk. “really?” he asks, looking over at you.
“really. this’ll be fun!” you promise before walking in, the dark-haired following suit as you stop in front of a token-purchasing machine. 
from the corner of your eye, you can see him taking out his wallet already and you immediately put your hand on your wrist, ceasing his movement.
with just one glance, a whole conversation passes between you two. “if you pay for me i will sock you.”
“i’d like to see you try,” he deadpans, quirking a brow before pressing the ‘20 tokens = $19’ button on the machine, “but i’m paying.”
then the sound of his card meeting the reader and the transaction being approved rings through the air, followed by the deafening noise of coins clashing against metal. the look he gives you is nothing short of proud. 
“come on babe, bet you won’t be able to get any prizes,” challenges rin as he brushes past you, the pet name causing your stomach to churn as insults rest on your tongue, offended by his declaration.
he’s gracious enough to give you half of the coins, allowing you to play four games each. you only manage to win on one of them and even then, you were astonished at your own achievements, excitedly grabbing the plushie and hugging the stuffed toy to your chest protectively. rin, on the other hand, comes back to you with two in both hands and the gawk you let out was completely against your will.
“how did you do that?” you ask, a little stupified at the sight (it was kinda hot though). although at this point, you shouldn’t really question how itoshi rin works since he takes the meaning of ‘march to the beat of your own drum’ to a whole other level. 
instead of answering, he hands them over to you and you have no choice but to take them, your arms now overloaded with three stuffed toys. 
before you can even open your mouth to ask if he broke into the machines, your phone buzzes with a notification and the second you open it, you’re met with a familiar ‘⚠️bereal’ banner, one that makes you excited over the impeccable timing. rin raises an eyebrow at your sudden surprise.
“bereal! quick, pose!” you demand and rin obeys, raising a peace sign with a slight smile before the camera turns around to you and the many stuffed toys you’re cuddling. 
how adorable you are might just kill him. 
the dark-haired shakes the thought away before taking out his phone, instructing you to smile. you pose for the photo, hugging all the plushies closely to your chest whilst rin gives his usual deadpan stare into the camera. he then gives you his phone to check if it was okay to post and when you approve, you press the ‘post >’ button for him.
shutting off his phone for him, it’s at the same time that the bereal notification pops up again, this time detailing how one of his friends had posted but that’s not what caught your attention.
it’s a certain photo that made your heart thump loudly in its ribcage.
“am i your lockscreen?” you ask, pride and flattery swelling in your stomach, manifesting through the warmth of your cheeks. 
the slight widening of his eyes give you all the answers you need. “you weren’t supposed to see that.” 
nothing could stop the slow grin from erupting on your expression. it’s ridiculous to say so, but it almost feels like a weight is being lifted from your chest, the pains of the last few weeks erasing themselves completely with this one detail. 
that’s how you know rin was meant for you.
“out of all pictures of me, you chose this one?” you question, gesturing to the selfie that you once sent him during your study sessions. your hair was messy, there was a semi-crazed look in your eyes, but at least the moisturising lip gloss you had reapplied then made you look somewhat put together. 
looking at his phone once more, you feel a little warm.
“i like it,” he mutters shyly, unable to look you in the eye. despite his embarrassment, his statement fills you with endless relief, providing gratification for your relationship with rin that you didn’t know you needed. 
though you’ve been friends with him for quite some time now, you feel as though you don’t really recognise the man in front of you. past perceptions you’ve had of him has now been shattered by his flustered gaze, the relentless blush coating his cheeks, and the uncharacteristic way he slumps, as if defending himself from any judgement you might throw at him. 
luckily for him, that’s not what you’re interested in doing.
unlocking your phone, you hand it to him. “take a matching selfie so i can make it my lock screen too.”
at least you have all the time in the world to get to know him all over again.
(rin will never tell you that he only has been active on bereal so he could see what you were up to. except it backfired every time because instead of satisfying how desperately he was longing for you during your two weeks of no contact, it only made him want you more. he wanted to be there with you through your intense study sessions, he wanted to be going on walks with you, he wanted to be there with you when you were watching one more episode of your favourite tv show before going to bed, he just wanted to be there with you.
now he has all the time to make sure he is.)
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
[@y/n’s BeReal]
@ karasu69: @fruityninjaotoya YOU OWE ME TWENTY BUCKS   → @fruitninjaotoya: Shut your micropenis up
@ yocchan: Y/N WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS   → @ nagixxxxxxxxxxxxx: ratio   → @ yocchan: DON’T RATIO ME RN
@monsterbachira: omg are y’all 😍❤️😍 rn   → @y/n: wut.   → @itshrin: Yes   → @monsterbachira: y/n rin is actually a good kisser   → @y/n: thanks for letting me know meguru!   → @itshrin: i’m going to end you. 
@bbgreo: i’m glad y’all had fun but no itoshi rin on our platonic date pls!   → @y/n: would never dream of it luv <3   → @itshrin: Sleep with one eye open, Reo   → @y/n: that’s my best friend :(   → @itshrin: You don’t need him   → @y/n: reo and i are one you can’t separate us   → @itshrin: Ok fine 😒   → @bbgreo: yay!   → @y/n: yay!
<reo3: told you you were too pretty to reject xx
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hannieehaee · 20 days
Text
DOES HE KNOW ?
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18+ / mdi
summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.
content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 9.8k
a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one time tip<3
Something was clearly wrong with you.
Was Lee Chan hot?
Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.
You could date it back to a little over a month ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.
For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).
After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.
"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.
"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.
"Wanna know a secret?"
"Sure."
"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.
You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.
Maybe he was drunk?
He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.
"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.
Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.
Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).
You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?
"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.
"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"
"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.
You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.
"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.
You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.
"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.
He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."
"He has a name, Soonyou-"
"None of us really care enough to learn it."
That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.
"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.
"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.
"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.
With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.
At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.
Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.
Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.
God damn you, Lee Chan.
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"So, when are you gonna drop this game and finally let me take you to bed?", he whispered cockily against your ear.
He was always so goddamn confident about it; a trait you always liked about him but were beginning to detest.
As per usual, you simply jokingly groaned at him and pushed him away in a manner far too light to be considered serious.
"Fuck off, Lee Chan."
With a giggle, he stepped away, usual pep in his step as present as ever.
"I'll get you another drink, 'kay, pretty?", you lost him in the crowd after that.
You'd gone drinking with your friends yet again, though this time at a distant friend's house party. Your boyfriend was absent once more due to his personal disdain for such outings. He was simply not much of a social drinker, which was fine! It just bothered you at times how often he chose staying in rather than going out with you.
Despite your rejections of Chan, you felt embarrassed to admit that you loved the thrill of his interest in you. Never had you ever had someone so shamelessly after your affections despite your lighthearted refusals. It made you feel wanted and powerful. It felt specially good when it came from a guy as handsome and charismatic as Chan; a guy who could have basically any girl all thanks to his unbelievable charisma.
Yet he wanted you. He was after you.
The guy you knew most was currently infatuated with you.
Yeah, you did need that second drink.
"Where's your guy?"
Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice coming from behind you.
You turned around to find Vernon leaning back against the wall, a smirk on his face at having watched your encounter with Chan.
"Shut up," you walked over to recline on the wall next to him, deciding to people-watch alongside him.
"It was a genuine question," he claimed, handing you a sip of the beer he'd been nursing.
"He's working again," you sipped, handing it back to take turns as you waited for Chan to bring you your drink of choice.
"And Channie?"
"What about him?"
"Does your boyfriend know?", he asks, more curious than actually interested.
Men, nosy as usual.
You groan, "Don't ask me that, Non."
"C'mon! Has he not noticed the way Chan's been after you these past few weeks?", he seemed far too entertained by the subject.
"Of course not! Chan's kept his distance around him, but ..."
"But?"
You turned your head to him, back still leaning against the wall, "I don't know!"
"Well, do you like him? Channie, I mean."
"It's- I like the attention."
"And him?", he pressed.
"He's starting to wear me down," you admitted.
Vernon chuckled into his red solo cup, "It's cute."
"What is?"
"The back and forth, the 'will they, won't they.' But if you ask me, I think they will."
"I have a boyfriend, Non," you grumbled, not entirely convincing in your tone.
"Yeah, but are you guys even friends? Wouldn't it be better to date someone who you actually like?"
"Stop doing PR for Chan. It's not like he needs it," you grumbled, already uses to this back and forth with many of your other friends – all of whom were rooting for Chan.
"Fine. But get out of here. Your guy's probably looking for you."
"My guy's not here."
"I meant Channie, now go!"
You grumbled again before walking in the direction in which Chan had left, knowing he'd likely still be in the kitchen attempting to fetch you a drink.
It didn't take you long to find him, nor did it take you long to spot the girl standing next to him, seemingly flirting up a storm. Chan didn't seem too deterred by this either. More than anything, he appeared to he reciprocating.
Maybe this was why you and Chan started off as friends and remained so for the years you'd known each other. He always had a girl clinging onto him one way or another. Though he didn't date much, he sure enjoyed swooning girls whenever he could.
You'd always been very strict about being exclusive with whoever you dated, never wanting to compete for someone's attention or engage in prolonged talking stages. This was something you differed in with Chan. He was quite the opposite, engaging in situationships that never really led anywhere. As his friend, you never really cared much for this. If it worked for him, then that was that. However, now that he was supposedly attempting to pursue you, – despite you being in a relationship – you couldn't help but scoff at the sight of Chan still entertaining any girl that'd show interest in him.
You almost turned around and left, but were promptly stopped by the man himself, who spotted you before you could take one step and disregarded the girl immediately. The girl scoffed in your place, clearly put off by Chan's attention being taken away so easily.
"Babe!", he called out, one drink in each hand, as he approached you, "Sorry I took so long, the line was crazy."
Immaturely enough, you rolled your eyes and grabbed the drink from his hand, ignoring his statement as you sipped it. You really had no right to be jealous of Chan talking to other girls. You were taken, and you weren't even interested in Chan. Were you? Still, you disregarded those thoughts and allowed the bitterness to cloud your mind and began walking away from the boy.
"Huh?", a question mark physically manifested itself above Chan's head as you began walking away from him, "Baby? Wait, where are you going?", his arm managed to reach you before you got far enough and softly turned you around to face him.
The two of you were still standing far too close to the people crowding the kitchen, however, so Chan assessed that it'd be better to move to a quieter spot in order to properly check in on you. With a decisive nod to himself, he grabbed onto your hand and walked you over to an empty hallway before turning to you again.
"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone? Did someone-"
The concern in his eyes seemed very genuine, making you feel bad for being such a brat at the mere sight of Chan interacting with another woman. You had never had an issue with your best friend being around other women. Hell, you never even cared whenever he would occasionally ditch you for other girls. The two of you were simply best friends. You had always rooted for him in his romantic life, even encouraging him with it.
But things had drastically changed as soon as he began showing interest in you.
It was like his sudden interest had unlocked a part of you you hadn't known was there. It had given you this brand new possessiveness you had never held over Chan before; a possessiveness you didn't even feel for your current boyfriend.
And it made you feel embarrassed. Tremendously so. It also made you feel like a hypocrite. Here you had a guy who was clearly extremely into you, yet he had made no comment nor expressed any disdain over the fact that you already had a guy. Chan had never expressed any type of jealousy over any of your past relationships. Despite having liked you for the entire duration of your friendship (information you were unsure Chan was aware you knew), Chan always respected your relationships and even tried to befriend any guy you brought along. Yet you couldn't hold back your bitterness at him showing interest in someone else; interest you now felt should be reserved only for you.
The hypocritical nature of your feelings made you look down in embarrassment as you interrupted Chan's inquiries, clarifying that nothing was wrong.
"No, Chan. I'm fine, I swear. Just a little tired. I, uh, thanks for the drink."
"Hey, are you sure?", he lifted your face with a finger to your chin, making you hold eye contact with him.
It was quite insane how this was not even meant as a flirtatious move, but rather a demonstration of his platonic worry for you. Yet your heart sped up anyways.
"I'm fine, Chan! It's just the crowds. You know how I get. Nonnie told me to go look for you and there were so many people in the kitchen, and then I couldn't come up to you because of that girl and-"
Your rambles were interrupted by an exclamation mark practically manifesting itself above Chan's head, with the sudden realization of your jealousy hitting him.
"Oh?", he tilted his head and leaned in a bit closer as a grin began making its way onto his face, "'That girl'?", he repeated.
"Chan-"
He got closer to you, now cornering you against the hallway wall, still giving you space but blocking your view of anything other than him.
"I'm sorry, baby. Did that bother you? Hmm? Me talking to some other girl?"
"It's not like that! I just-"
"It's okay. You can admit it. I won't judge you," except his smirk was nothing but condescending.
"Chan! I-"
"But that's kinda funny, though. Isn't it?", he chuckled to himself.
"W-what is?," you stammered at his sudden shift in mood.
Though he was still far too close for a friend to be, and he was still leaning into your touch, his tone had shifted to one a bit more cynical in nature.
"You're jealous? Baby, you have a boyfriend."
"I do, and-"
"So what's there to be jealous about? You've got your guy. Yet you're looking my way? When you've been rejecting me all this time?", he leaned even closer, almost breathing right against your nose, eyes hooded as they bore into your own, alternating between your eyes and lips in a somewhat teasing manner.
"I-I'm not jealous. Just ... Why flirt with me if you're after other girls too?", you made the mistake of asking.
"Oh, baby. I'm not looking at anyone else. Not my fault you're so possessive you can't even stand other girls looking at me," you knew he was simply teasing you, knowing full well that you were not the possessive type. But his words carried a slight weight of truth behind them.
You had no reason to feel any type of possessiveness over Chan. Yet you still felt uneasy at the thought of Chan's eyes on anyone who wasn't you. Now that you had a taste of his attention you wanted it all to yourself.
"I just have one question," he whispered, far too close to you.
You nodded at him to continue, wide eyes on his own.
"Does he know?"
"Know what?"
"That you like me back," his eyes went down to your lips again.
"Chan. Stop. I-I'm not gonna cheat on my boyfriend," you huffed, avoiding his eyes – which was quite hard at his close proximity.
The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, with your eyes occasionally dropping to his lips. But it was fine, since his own were also on yours – though his expression was more triumphant than anything, while yours revealed your nerves. Had you been in a less restricting position, your thighs would've instinctively pressed together at the thoughts that were suddenly running through your mind at his proximity, but thankfully the situation didn't drag long enough for your lust to reveal itself.
He finally pulled away, smirk still on his face, "I'd never ask you to do that, baby. 's just nice to know my plan's working," he chuckled.
"What plan?"
"I'm wearing you down. You want me."
Unfortunately, you had no rebuttal, knowing that Chan had won this round. Even if you denied his statement (which you had half the mind to do), he had caught you red handed. You had whined about not having his full attention just like a petulant child would. Nothing you said would save you from that.
You managed to move on from that quite quickly, finding Soonyoung and Kwannie just a few moments later and using them as an excuse to move on from the way in which Chan had cornered you. You spent the rest of the party pondering Chan's words. Did you actually want him? Or was it just that you wanted him to want you?
Now you were stuck with embarrassing moisture between your thighs and countless doubts hanging over your head.
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"C-Channie! Oh, Channie, fuck!"
Your cries of pleasure were unparalleled as the pretty boy you liked to call your best friend slurped at your cunt like a starved man.
You weren't sure how long he had been at it, nor were you sure how you'd ended up in this situation, but you had no complaints. His tongue between your thighs was pure heaven, especially with the pathetic whines the boy kept letting out at your taste.
"'sso good, princess. Cunt's so tasty ... Been wanting it since I met you ... Been waiting for you for years," he mumbled against your cunt, getting back to licking and sucking immediately.
While your heart was unsure what to make of such a heavy statement, your body responded with desperation. To have a man yearn for you like that for years was doing wonders for your cunt. It made you gush like crazy, beginning to grind against Chan's face in such a depraved way.
"Just like that, fuck. Fuck my face just like that," he groaned, the vibrations of his voice causing you to grind even harder against him.
"C-Channie! It's so good ... So fucking good, oh!"
He seemed to get off on your praise, you realized, as you felt ruckus on the bed beneath you caused by Chan canting his hips against your mattress and moaning incessantly into your cunt. The knowledge of your taste alone making Chan lose himself in such a way was enough to drive you towards your high, getting closer and closer by the second.
"Gonna make me cum, princess. Got such a pretty fucking pussy," he managed to breathe out despite exerting all his efforts into fucking the mattress.
Surprising to no one, Chan claimed your orgasm on his tongue just moments later, somehow managing to talk you through it and make the experience even more swoon-worthy than it already was. Chan had managed to make you feel a way no one had ever before, making you ache for him with just his words.
It had all ended far sooner than you would've liked, but it was fine. You knew that with a few kisses to his ear Chan would give you whatever you wanted without question.
Yet before you could even get to enjoy the entirety of your high, it was abruptly taken from you the moment your alarm began ringing, awakening you from what you hadn't realized was just slumber.
Waking up from a wet dream was already embarrassing enough on its own, but waking up from a wet dream about your best friend whom you swore you weren't into like that was a new level of low.
As much as you tried to brush it off as some sort of fluke or meaningless dream, you knew better. You had never thought of Chan in such a way, much less imagined him in that context, so it was safe to say that Chan had been right. His plan was working.
~
The following hours were spent on alert (and still incredibly horny). You thought about calling up your boyfriend to help you out, but the thought in itself felt dirty. How could you ask your boyfriend to take care of a problem caused by your best friend? There was that, and the fact that your brain would probably not be satisfied by your boyfriend right now.
You needed to get Chan out of your system.
You knew that if you called up Chan and explained your problem to him he'd come running immediately, no questions asked as he helped you relive your dream. Such a thought had your head spinning and your knees feeling weak. Except you had a moral compass that was preventing you from doing so. So, you spent the next few hours extremely sensitive and attempting to take care of yourself in any way you could think of.
Unfortunately nothing compared to your dream. Nothing felt as warm and loving as Chan had felt. There was not a single thing that could bring back that feeling of want Chan had towards you; a feeling you were so desperate for. This led you to spend the rest of the day sexually frustrated, unable to reach your high as you felt something was thoroughly missing.
Even when your boyfriend stopped by to see you after work, things had gone awry. You'd received him at the door in a desperate manner, dragging him in with you and inciting him into fucking you. You didn't care if you had Chan in mind anymore, you just needed some satisfying release. Sadly, your boyfriend did not match your energy, opting to slow you down and have his way with you in his own way. This led to yet another unsatisfying release to add to today's tally. You were unsure if you could even call it a release, as it felt entirely underwhelming and had been mostly accomplished by your own hand.
Going to sleep, still sexually frustrated, you cursed at yourself for letting Lee Chan get in your head.
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Spending time with Chan after your incident was nothing less than incredibly awkward.
Despite Chan being fully unaware of what had gone down in your subconscious, you couldn't help the blush that would take over your face any time the two of you made eye contact. He had all the power at the moment.
You had also made the mistake of discussing the occurrence with your closest friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung. Purposely, you had not mentioned the name of the culprit behind your wet dream, but it had not been hard for your nosy friends to figure it out on their own.
"You had a sex dream about Channie?!", Soonyoung had all but whispered, causing some old ladies across the diner to look your way in judgment.
Fortunately not too many people were present at the diner you were currently hanging out at, but it didn't really help the embarrassment you felt at the words even being uttered. This was the only time in which you could see your friends without Chan's presence, so you couldn't be too picky about the setting.
"Soonyoung! Shut the hell up!", you whisper-shouted at him, throwing a rolled up napkin at him in punishment, "I never said it was about Chan."
"Please. Who else would it be about? Sure as hell can't be about your vanilla boyfriend. And anyone else like Mingyu or Wonwoo would be too obvious for you to be so embarrassed about it. It has to be Chan," Seungkwan butted in nonchalantly.
"I- It's- my boyfriend is not vanilla!"
"You didn't deny it! It was Channie!", Soonyoung was far too excited at having guessed correctly.
Giving up, and knowing you needed some external input on your predicament, you nodded in shame, admitting to your sin in order to maybe get some advice on the situation.
"What do I do? I ... I can't stop thinking about it. Fuck, I can't even look at Chan in the eye anymore."
"Was it good?"
"Soonyoung, stop! That's not the point."
"He has a point. Not really worth ruining your relationship over some mediocre head," argued Seungkwan.
"Shut up! It- Fuck, it was so good," you groaned into your hands in utter embarrassment.
"Dude I knew Chan would be good at head. It's in his eyes. I'm telling you, people with those big doe eyes are freaks in bed," Soonyoung couldn't seem to stop spewing his headcanon of Chan at you.
"Or at least dream-Chan is," agreed Kwan.
"What do I do?! It won't leave my mind. I- I've already tried fucking it out of my head, but even then-"
"Hold on. You had sex with your boyfriend while thinking about Chan? Does he know?"
"Soonyoung!"
"Man, he'd pass out if he heard that. Do you know how many time's he's walked us through his sex dreams?", cackled Soonyoung.
This obviously caught your attention, making you widen your eyes and fastening the speed of your heartbeat.
Chan had had sex dreams about you too?
I mean, it should've been obvious considering the amount of dirty innuendos and straight-up proposals he's given you these past few weeks, but you had never actually thought about it in depth.
Fuck.
Chan wanted to fuck you.
The thought made you gulp and press your thighs together, actions your friends thankfully did not catch onto.
"He, uh, he's told you about his sex dreams about me?", you asked with a complete lack of confidence in your voice.
"God, don't even get him started," grumbled Seungkwan, slurping his almost empty americano before continuing, "It's Hoshi who keeps instigating him into telling us every excruciating detail."
Soonyoung nodded in confirmation, "Dude, he gets nasty," he whispers as if it was a sin to utter out loud – despite having previously aired your own sex dream to the whole diner.
God, were you interested in knowing more. But you couldn't blow your cover. You were far too horny and pent up already. Hearing about how your sexy (yes, you were at the point of shamelessly admitting it) best friend giving it to you in the nastiest scenarios imaginable would probably make you combust in front of your best friends and every other unsuspecting person in the establishment.
With dry lips and wetness already gathering between your thighs, you simply hummed in acknowledgment and moved on with the conversation, eventually managing to change subjects without giving away your cover.
~
Never in your life had you ever had such urgency in getting home.
Upon locking your front door, you immediately ran to your bed, undressing yourself in the process and getting ready to rid yourself of the ache between your legs that had been bothering you since that wretched dream.
You knew that you wouldn't be able to satisfy yourself as well as you wanted without Chan's aid (you'd tried endless times just a few days ago), but trying was better than nothing.
Getting yourself started was easy. All you had to do was remember the very vivid image of dream-Chan slobbering between your legs, begging you to use his face however you saw fit and claim your orgasm as if it were a god-given right.
But imagination wasn't enough.
You had half the mind to call up Chan right there and then and crying to him to please come and take care of you. The repeated knowledge that Chan would likely come to you with no question nor judgement made the task of holding back even harder. It made you cry at the frustration your fingers were giving you; they just weren't enough. Not even after the endless attempts these past few days had you been able to calm the fire between your legs. The last time you saw your boyfriend – just after your damned sex dream – had been yet another failed attempt. It seemed like nothing could truly get you there.
That's when you thought of the perfect thing.
Chan always had the tendency of either taking you home himself or sending you a short voice message to ensure you had arrived home safely – always insisting on one in return. This message always contained Chan's raspy voice after a long day of shenanigans, usually calling you one pet name or another as he checked in on you.
No matter how ashamed you felt at it, the burning between your legs did seem to diminish upon turning up the short voice message he had left you just last week. His words, accompanied by his voice, did wonders for your imagination.
"Hey, babe", it had started, "Just wanted to check in on you and make sure you got home okay. Need you to send me a message back as soon as you can, yeah?"
This had been enough to start you up again, the usual 'babe' nickname and the soft command causing an effect on you it never had in all your years of friendship.
"You looked so pretty today," he sighed, "Did I tell you that? Need to be telling you that every day. You're gorgeous. Don't even know how such a pretty girl puts up with us," he chuckled.
Oh, Channie ...
He'd always been so sweet to you. Such a fun friend, but also such a sweet boy who'd always coddle you and treat you better than anyone else. You could almost picture him swooning at you as he reminisced on the pretty dress you'd worn that day.
You couldn't think of anyone else who thought of you that fondly. Yet you were currently too busy using an unsuspecting Chan to get off after days of being pent up due to that same boy.
"Miss you already, gorgeous. Should've taken you home myself, ugh," he groaned at himself, "That way I would've at least gotten a goodnight kiss," he paused, chuckling, "on the cheek, of course."
It was probably just your horny brain talking, but had Chan been in front of you at that moment, you would've done far more than just kiss him. You didn't know where all this sudden lust for Chan had come from, but that dream had come with an epiphany. Maybe you'd been attracted to your best friend all this time.
"'Kay, Imma leave you now, okay, princess? Message me back when you're ready for bed, alright? You know how I worry. Goodnight, beautiful. I love you," he ended the recording with a soft kiss.
The short voice message wasn't enough to work yourself up to an orgasm, so you revisited as many of his old messages as you could, recalling some specially soft ones he'd send you where he'd call you all the petnames known to man and praise you enough to make you blush.
You also thought about what Soonyoung had said, how Chan's dreams about you would get nasty. You thought of every nasty thing the man was probably itching to do to you. You thought of how easily you'd let him if he was here at this moment.
Throughout it all, you pictured Chan and the actions that would accompany his words if he were in the room with you. You imagined the soft touches and the praise he'd spew endlessly at you. The eyes full of genuine love – mixed with a little lust – that would watch you as you came undone.
And come undone you did. It wasn't as good as it would've been with the real Chan present and taking care of you, but it sure beat the multiple unsatisfying orgasms you'd had in the past few days.
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"We broke up."
Those were your opening words upon approaching the usual table you shared with your friends.
This time Seokmin had decided to join.
"You what?"
"Because of Chan?"
"Really?!"
All responses were delivered simultaneously, making you groan as you sat down, knowing you were in for a lengthy interrogation from the three nosiest men you knew.
You covered your face in your hands and exhaled before unmasking yourself and facing your friends with seriousness in your demeanor.
"Didn't feel right when I kept thinking about Chan," you started, "He understood, which made it worse. Said he'd been too busy with work lately, was thinking of taking some time apart anyways."
It had been a few days since your wet dream about Chan. After your lonely escapade the night after – the night with the cursed voice memos – you had gone over to your boyfriend's place to end it. You hadn't hung out much in the past few weeks. There had been no spark for a bit. The goodness of your short-lived relationship was probably just the honeymoon period, which ended around the same time Chan decided to make his interest on you known.
It was all too much to deal with, so breaking it off seemed easier.
"Wow," aired Soonyoung.
"Yeah. Wow. How are you feeling?", asked Seokmin.
"I'm fine. Just, you know, feel kinda bad. I didn't want to be with someone if my heart wasn't fully in it," you mumbled, a little solemn.
"Does Channie know?"
"God, no. I've been avoiding him since," you eyed Kwan and Soonyoung, "uh, you know," you didn't want Seokmin to be yet another one of your friends to know about your sexual escapades in your slumber.
"Oh, you mean the sex dream?"
Your stare turned menacing, facing the only two possible culprits, "Who told him?"
"It was Soonie!", Seungkwan revealed immediately.
"Wait! No, I-"
"Did you tell anyone else? Oh my god, does Chan know?!"
"No! I only told Seokmin, I swear! He asked why we were meeting while Chan's working, so I told him."
"Don't worry, I won't tell. Scout's honor."
Seokmin held an innocent pinky towards you. Already done with the situation, you halfheartedly intertwined pinkies and moved on.
"So ... Channie?", Seungkwan asked once more.
"What about him?", you feigned curiosity.
"Playing dumb isn't gonna help things."
"What, do you want me to tell him about my dream?"
"That'd be kinda weird, man, I don't know," added Seokmin.
"I think it'd be hot."
"Soonyoung, shut up!", you told him for the nth time since the subject of your 'crush' on Chan had first come up.
Seungkwan side-eyed them before continuing, "No, but you like him, don't you?"
Did you? Did you actually like Chan?
Before Chan had showed interest in you, you had never considered it. Ever since you'd met him, Chan had always been nothing more than your best friend, your partner in crime. You had never felt as safe and comfortable with anyone as you had with Chan, and that was still the case. No boyfriend had ever made you feel as at ease as Chan always did.
His crush had brought out something in you. Had it been any other friend who suddenly revealed their feelings for you, you would've reacted in horror. But it was different with Chan. For some reason, you didn't feel put off by it, nor did you try to chase him away for his feelings for you. It wasn't one of those situations where the boy suddenly decides to pursue his girl-friend and ruins the friendship altogether. This had opened pandora's box for you, making you realize that Chan's affections would've always been welcomed by you.
Even if you jokingly rejected him or told your friends you had a boyfriend, it was all simply due to your moral compass. You weren't a cheater, so you couldn't take Chan too seriously even if you wanted to. But now you were single, and now you had to figure out if you really wanted Chan in the same way he wanted you.
"I know that I want him, but I need to make sure that I want him, you know? I'd never want to hurt his feelings or jeopardize our friendship just because I was horny one day."
"So you're scared it might just be that you're sexually attracted to him?"
"No, it's just ..."
"You want to know whether or not you like him and not just the attention he gives you."
It was surprisingly Soonyoung who had deciphered it.
"Y-yeah. Fuck. Does that make me a narcissist?"
"Nah. It's better to be sure. You've been friends with Channie since forever. It makes sense for you to wanna be cautious."
"You should probably stop avoiding him, though. He's, uh, starting to notice," revealed Seokmin.
"Yeah, he won't stop whining. Just put him out of his misery already," said Soonie.
"Okay, I guess I'll talk to him next time I see him."
You didn't really feel ready for it, but the time to confront Chan would have to come sooner or later.
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Next time you saw Chan was actually far too soon for your liking. Just the following day you found yourself at yet another house party; a small gathering among your friend group and some other people. It wasn't anything too big, so you knew that you'd inevitably bump into Chan.
It had only been about a week since you last spoke to Chan, but that had been a week too long. Throughout the duration of your friendship, the longest you ever went without constant communication had been three days, which had been a total accident on both your parts. The two of you would at least text once a day, even coming to have an unbroken streak of endless texts.
Fuck, you missed him.
Chan obviously must've noticed your lack of communication these past few days. You weren't even sure why you had decided to keep him in the dark. It wasn't just the wet dream (which was still haunting you, but had moved to the back burner for now), and it wasn't your breakup either. You were just confused about your feelings for the boy, but punishing him by icing him out had been far too much. Now you felt guilty.
You felt extra guilty when you finally spotted Chan across the party, sitting alone on a loveseat while he attempted but failed at discreetly looking over at you. He looked like a wounded puppy as he did so, pout on his lips and furrowed brows. It made you want to kiss the pout right off his face.
It was easy to tell that he wanted to approach you, but was simply trying his hardest to respect the boundary you had seemingly put up out of nowhere. This meant that you'd have to be the one to talk to him.
Then you took action, throwing away the drink you had been nursing and walking over to him, ignoring his shocked expression when you wordlessly grabbed his hand and pulled him to an empty room in the shared house. You locked the door and turned to him, unsure on what to say first.
Chan was the now the one to surprise you, immediately trapping you in a bear hug and burying his face in your shoulder, loudly breathing you in.
He didn't let go for a couple of minutes, even nudging you to keep hugging him back when you went to pull away.
When he finally let go, you finally had the chance to look at the boy for a moment.
Yeah, you liked him.
You had missed him far too much to be able to deny it.
You liked Lee Chan, and you were ready to let it be known to the world.
But then he started speaking.
"I'm so sorry," he started, utterly confusing you as to what he could be apologizing for, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I, fuck. I must've crossed a line with my flirting, and I never meant to. You're my best friend, and I need to respect you, an-and I need to respect your relationship. I thought that maybe somehow I could get you to see me as more than a friend, but it was stupid of me to assume you'd drop your boyfriend just because your dumb friend suddenly had a crush on you – which, uh, isn't the case, by the way," he looked down, embarrassed, "I've liked you since we met. So much. I assumed Hoshi must've told you by now. Anyways, I, uh, I'm really sorry. I'll stop. I will never bring it up again, just, fuck, please don't be mad. I'll take anything you give me. If friendship is what you want then I'll be the bestest friend you've ever had, just-"
It was impossible to take his senseless rambles anymore. You were getting too emotional at the thought of having put Chan through this turmoil when you had spent the last few days tending to the ache he had caused between your legs and subsequently breaking up with your boyfriend in order to figure out your feelings. It made you feel equally embarrassed and ridiculous, yet the effects of your silence made you begin to tear up at the apologetic boy in front of you.
Interrupting him, you hugged him again, somehow even tighter this time. This thankfully shut him up, allowing his body to lose its tension and letting himself become limp in your hold.
After some more moments of silent hugging, you were the one to pull away this time, giving him a sympathetic smile as you raised a hand to caress his cheek. It made you soon the way in which he leaned against your palm and gave you the sweetest smile known to man.
"Channie, you did nothing wrong ... I'm sorry for cutting you off like that, that was so wrong of me. I should've talked to you and told you how I was feeling. I wish I was half as confident about my feelings as you are, but I just felt so-" you paused, not knowing what you were even trying to express, "a-and then I just started avoiding you to avoid my feelings all together. I'm sorry."
"No, you have nothing to apologize for," he put his hands on your shoulders to ensure you were understanding his point, "I should've respected your boundaries. I never even should've tried to pursue you when I know you have a boyfriend, it was so-"
"had", you clarified, shy.
"what?"
"I had a boyfriend. We, uh, we broke up a few days ago."
"You ... Fuck, was it because of me?"
His eyes were like saucers, but you could see a small hint of a smile that he quickly wiped off when he realized the context of the situation.
"I want to say no, but ... yeah, I did."
Still feeling unbelievably ashamed at the memory of what had first led you to consider breaking up with your boyfriend, – a stupid wet dream you still couldn't get out of your mind – you avoided eye contact. Now you knew that that had only been the catalyst of realizing your feelings for Chan, but it still didn't help matters much, specially knowing that Chan would find out sooner or later.
"God, I'm so so sorry-"
"Chan! Stop apologizing! It wasn't because of anything you did. I just ... I realized some things these past few weeks and .. I realized we weren't really right for each other," you took a breath, "Not when you were all I could think about."
"Y-you ...?"
"I'm going to be candid, okay? Just, please don't interrupt."
He nodded, giving you the green light.
"A little over a week ago, uh, something happened. And then I couldn't keep you out of my mind. I tried talking to the guys, I even tried using my boyfriend as a distraction, but nothing worked. I started avoiding you because I just felt so awkward realizing I was beginning to develop feelings for you. It was wrong of me, but I needed time. I broke up with him because it didn't feel right to be with someone else while you were the only person I wanted around."
Saying it felt like a breath of fresh air. Not only were you admitting it to Chan, but also to yourself. Your friendship with Chan had never been your average friendship. Even before he had decided to begin shamelessly hitting on you, he had always been the sweetest and most caring boy you'd ever met. Sending you voice memos every time you went home alone, always being in charge of getting your drinks, driving you wherever you wanted, being overly affectionate with you any time he felt you might've needed it. The boy had always been the perfect match for you, you just couldn't grasp it until he began to literally shove it in your face.
"What made you realize it?"
Not expecting him to question you, but rather just accept your sudden change of heart, you hadn't thought of how to explain to him that a sex dream was what had brought you to this epiphany.
But what did you have to lose at this point? Most of your friends already knew, and to be quite frank, you still wanted Chan extremely badly. Telling him wouldn't be the end of the world.
"I, uh, I had a dream about you ..." you muttered, eyes avoiding his own.
His already wide eyes widened even more, a smirk forming itself on his features as he tilted his head in question.
"Uhm, care to repeat that for me?"
"Chan, shut the fuck up. You heard me."
"I didn't! Just tell me. Please?"
With a sigh, you repeated yourself, this time a little more clear, "I had a dream about you."
"Uh-huh. What type of dream?"
"Chan!"
"Princess, please. I embarrassed myself for you for weeks. I pined for you for years. Just give me what I wanna hear," he pleaded, somehow cocky in the way he did so.
"Fuck, fine. I had a wet dream about you. I dreamt about you between my legs, giving me the greatest orgasm I've ever experienced and begging me for more. I dreamt of your pathetic whines while I ground my cunt on your face. And then I woke up before I could cum. I spent the entire day trying to get that feeling back but nothing worked, Chan, nothing. I couldn't look you in the eyes after that so I just avoided you."
Finally giving him the most candid version of the events made you feel a weight leave your shoulders, specially upon realizing that the boy who currently held your heart had been rendered unable to use this as ammunition against you as you watched his cocky expression turn into one of lust.
"Oh," he breathed out. Taking a few moments to regain his composure, he spoke up again, "W-was that it? Or do you, uh, do you also like me back?"
"I like you, Chan. So much. The dream was just what made me realize that I wanted you in every way imaginable."
A decisive expression now took over his face, nodding to himself before moving closer to you, taking up all your personal space.
"That's all I needed to know," he declared before claiming your lips in a heated kiss.
Chan kissed you with everything he had to give. The kiss immediately grew lustful, with Chan licking into your mouth for access the second you made the smallest sound of surprise. And, fuck was Chan a great kisser.
His tongue was practically making love to yours, rendering your legs weak and shaky. Thankfully Chan realized this, pushing you to the nearest wall so that he could continue to take over all your senses.
Scratching and pulling at his hair, you caused Chan to moan against your lips, only making you whine in return. Chan took this as a sign to move forward, beginning to grind his expert hips against your own. Already hard, Chan's clothed cock felt like heaven against your burning cunt. You had begged for a proper release for days, and you were now afraid that some light dry humping would be enough to take you there before you could finally relive your dream.
But did you care? Did you care enough to halt Chan's movements when they were already making your eyes roll back? Your body made the decision for you, pushing your hips against his own and making him release a gruttal groan against your lips.
"N-need you so fucking bad ..." he breathed against your lips, barely able to get a word out as you insisted of licking into his mouth as he spoke. This made him groan again, "Princess, please ... You're gonna kill me."
Pulling away, you grabbed his hands and placed them on your breasts, making eyed at him as you spoke, "Channie, just touch me. Don't care what you do, just ... just take care of the problem you caused."
He whined at the feeling of your body at his palms, immediately groping and feeling up every inch of your body before trapping your mouth in another heated kiss. His hands soon became too desperate to feel you through your clothes, carelessly unwrapping you from every piece of clothing he could. He left you in your underwear, having thrown off your dress and holding onto your hands so you could haphazardly kick off your shoes. Chan's clothes joined soon after, with his own hands throwing off all but his boxers.
Before he could claim your lips in a kiss again, you grabbed him by the hand, leading him to a nearby couch in order to sit him down. Sitting on his lap, you kissed him again and again, thoroughly enjoying how liberal his hands were in the way he touched you.
Finally throwing off your bra, you felt up your tits a bit as Chan watched you with a pained look in his face, mouth open and eyes glued to your breasts. His lips attached to your tits immediately after, going crazy in the way he suckled and bit at them.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he mumbled against your tit, "Fuck, dreamt about you every night ... This pretty body and all your pretty noises. Can't believe I get to have you now," he kissed his way back up to your neck, hands never halting in their caressing of your body.
He pulled away to look into your eyes – though his eyes kept dropping to your lips, "You're embarrassed about your dream?", he chuckled, "Want me to tell you some of mine? Hmm?", he began to manhandle you, positioning you so that you could lay horizontally on the couch and he could lay above you, "So fucking nasty, baby, it'd make you blush."
"Channie ..."
"Gonna do so many nasty things to you. Want me to whine for your pussy? Oh, baby ... Gonna beg for pussy every day, shit," his hand went down to rub your wet cunt through your panties, "'sso wet," he groaned, "Gonna lick it all up again and again. Need to suffocate between these thighs," he made his way down your body as he said this, eventually coming face to face with your cunt.
Leaving a kiss on your weeping cunt, he licked through your panties, causing you to arch your back for him and throw your head back. The warmth of his tongue could've been enough to claim your orgasm, but somehow you persisted.
Chan became desperate for you quickly after that, removing your panties and lifting your thighs so that he could finally bury himself between your legs the way you'd been wanting him to for so long.
"Channie, fuck!," you cried, pulling at his hair while pushing his head further against you.
"Use me. God, just ... Grind that cunt against me ..."
And so you did. You took advantage of your pretty best friend's desperation for you and employed your own desperation for him. To any outsider, you must've looked like the image of depravity as you used Chan for your pleasure, but Chan was just as depraved. You could feel the couch shake from under you, indicating the way in which Chan ground against it as you claimed your orgasm on his tongue.
Riding your high was an incomparable experience. No one had ever made you feel as much pleasure as Chan had. Not even dream-Chan lived up to reality.
You could've sworn you lost consciousness for a few moments after your high, feeling completely weightless when it had finally died down. Your ability to think only came back by the time Chan had climbed back up your body and kissed at your chest once more, smiling at you when he finally reached your lips.
Instead of sharing a sweet moment with him, you claimed his lips once more and licked every last bit of your essence from his mouth. He groaned and allowed his tongue to mingle with yours in such a nasty manner that it made you blush when you remembered that Chan was nothing more than your best friend less than an hour ago.
"Let me fuck you," Chan pleaded when he finally managed to pull away from your greedy lips.
"How do you want me?", you asked as your lips tried to reclaim his yet again. Fuck, he was such a good kisser.
"Fuck. I get to choose?"
You couldn't help but be endeared by him. Also incredibly turned on by how much he clearly wanted you.
Without another word, he repositioned you so you'd be on your hands and knees, running his hand down your back to press the arch of your back a little deeper. He groaned at the sight of you arching your back as deliciously as you could, wiggling your ass as you looked back at him with a cheeky smile, lip trapped between your teeth.
"I've been waiting for this for years, shit. I'm not gonna last."
That made you giggle, continuing to press yourself up against him to get him to break.
"Just fuck me, Channie. Promise it's gonna feel so good."
"Yeah, baby. Gonna fuck you so good."
His tip then finally made contact with your cunt, being dragged up and down your folds as you whined at the feeling. He finally began to penetrate you after becoming too desperate himself.
"You're so fucking warm ..." he breathed out.
Sighing out at the fullness, you pushed back against him, encouraging him to begin fucking into you. Chan took no time in following your lead, adopting a desperate pace almost immediately.
The sounds of skin slapping took over the room, only accompanied by sighs and moans of pleasure from you or Chan. The occasional whiny praise also left his lips every so often. The needy way in which he fucked you had you reeling. Chan had the ability to make you feel extremely desired and like getting to fuck you was the greatest privilege known to man. The way his hands caressed you and his pleas for you to 'please push it back on him' made the experience all the more dreamy to you.
Dream-Chan truly stood no chance to the real one.
"Princess, gonna- fuck, gonna fucking cum. W-where can I?", he grunted from behind, his thrusts somehow becoming even more animalistic.
There was no moment of hesitation in your voice – though shaky from the way in which Chan rutted against you – when you gave him the green light to cum inside you. His groan upon your confirmation only made your back arch even more. Chan's want for you continued to make you feel lightheaded.
Halfway through his own orgasm, Chan triggered your own through the way his hand dipped under you and toyed with your clit. After only one day with you, your best friend already knew how to get you there immediately. He talked you through your orgasm, giving you endless praise about how beautiful you were, how he didn't deserve such a pretty bestie to fuck so good, how he'd beg for you day after day if necessary.
Upon your highs wearing down, Chan managed to reposition you so you could lay next to him. (though almost entirely on top of him) He held you close to him, soft in the way he ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm, enjoying the goosebumps forming. His hand would eventually go over to your face and caress your cheek while his nose rubbed against your own. Treating you like a doll, Chan made you swoon yet again.
"I love you."
Then the world stopped.
"I'm sorry I didn't say it before. It wasn't just a crush. I'm in love with you. And ... and I want you to be mine. Will you be my girlfriend?"
It was all whispered against you, with a soft smile accompanying the whispered words.
"I love you too," the words left your mouth so naturally you were sure they'd been stuck there forever, "Yes, Channie. I'll be your girlfriend," you couldn't help but smile as you said those words.
"Fuck, thank God," he breathed out, hugging you to him, "I never would've gotten over you if you said no. The guys never would've heard the end of it."
He made you laugh, as per usual.
You knew things would only change for the better, so you weren't scared about the change in dynamic that was to come from letting Chan out of the friendzone. All you felt was excitement to finally be with him without guilt.
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content: established relationship, chan's pov, banter, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of lingerie, teasing, dry humping, riding, etc.
wc: 695 (teaser); 1773 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
Chan had waited for this moment for years. The moment he finally had you all to himself and the moment that would start the rest of his life with you.
Sleeping with you last night had somehow surpassed his craziest of dreams – and he had dreamt about it a lot.
The feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you moaned against his mouth as his tongue suckled on yours, the sight of your bare body, the feeling of your hands caressing every inch of his body, the taste of your wet cunt ... fuck. He could go on forever reminiscing about you and how obsessed with your touch he had already become.
It had only been a bit over a day since he had woken up next to you on that couch. Granted, the sleep had been slightly uncomfortable, but he had gotten to feel your warm skin against his own as he slept, so it had been worth it.
After some sheepish reaffirmation of your feelings for one another, you had redressed and left the shared house, pinkies intertwined as you went home. Sadly, you had busy days, so you weren't able to see one another at all throughout the following 24 hours. But! You had agreed to see each other tonight for a quiet dinner at Chan's apartment – courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.
Opening the door to his apartment, Chan's chin practically hit the floor when he spotted you in that dress.
Chan had seen you in all types of getups throughout all his years of knowing you. He had obviously seen you in the prettiest of dresses, the tightest and most sinfully tailored pieces. But nothing compared to the pretty little thing you were currently donning.
It was a black slip dress. It wasn't too tight nor too loose. The fabric barely covered his favorite parts of your body, making him reminisce on how they looked without anything covering them at all. You were also shamelessly donning the few hickeys he had left on you just one day ago. Chan was convinced you'd been sent on this Earth to ruin him, to make him a shell of himself and rid him of any ability to act as a functional human being.
The dinner went quite well. You and Chan were far too used to each other for it to go anything but perfect. Your usual banter was present, though Chan now had the privilege of running his hand up and down any sliver of skin he could reach as you teased him about one thing or another. He enjoyed the innocent touches he could give you without any sense of guilt you might be taken by some loser who didn't deserve you. The right to touch you was now entirely reserved by him, just as it should've always been.
It was all perfectly innocent until it wasn't.
Eventually moving to the couch to entertain yourselves with some streaming service, you cuddled against each other. This was an ordinary occurrence between you even as friends. Sure, the cuddling was now a little extra close – with you practically sitting on his lap – but it wasn't anything too intimate so far.
It seemed like this wasn't enough for you, though. It didn't take you too long to move onto his lap, now sitting on top of him while his arms wrapped around your middle. Chan chose to just follow along with whatever position you wanted to cuddle in, just happy to be there at all. Your hands would play with his own, clearly not attentive to the movie at all.
Innocently at first, you rubbed your own hands up and down his arms. This later came to you leading his hands to rub up and down the expanse of your thighs, coming up high enough to lift up most of your skirt. This then evolved into you dipping one of his hands to rub against your panties.
Chan's eyes rolled back when he felt the warmth of your cunt under his hand, already moist and ready for him. You kept pressing his hand against you, so Chan took the hint to play with you.
...
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tomriddleslove · 4 months
Text
Pt 4 - Drunk words are sober thoughts.
✩ Theodore Nott x Reader
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Summary: The one where Pansy organises a dinner party, you’re on the run from Theo, and bad decisions are made. Alternatively: Uncomfortable awkward tension, then smut.
A/N: We aren’t out of the trenches yet. We’ve only dug ourselves deeper with this one.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN.
Please let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the tag list!
MDNI!
Tags: Smut (duh),Drunk sex, PIV, Hair pulling, praise.
Songs: Love survive - Michael Nau
Star Treatment - Arctic Monkeys
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The sun filters through the cracks in the blinds, casting an almost heavenly glow on your bed. The warmth was soothing, and you’d almost call it a very peaceful morning.
That is, of course, if you weren’t woken by Pansy yanking the covers off you, tossing them to the side.
You groan sleepily, rolling over as you try to shield your eyes.
“Oh come on! Merlin, you've been asleep for so long! Everyone else is up! I refuse to let you spend all holiday rotting in bed.” She nags, grabbing your arm as she tries to pull you up. You let your body go limp, the dead weight pulling you back onto the bed as you use your free hand to pull a pillow over your head.
“You know Pansy, have you ever considered my idea of a holiday is sleeping in all day?” You mumble and she tuts, grabbing the pillow from you.
“Nonsense. I’ll kill you if we don't make the most of this.”She admonishes, faffing around you like a mother hen as she walks around your shared room with Theodore (who notably wasn't there, his bed made.) She opens your closet and takes the liberty of choosing you an outfit as she flicks through your clothing, speaking again.
“We're going to celebrate the start of this beautiful Holiday I have so kindly provided us with. We’re making dinner and having a small dinner party. Nice clothes, naturally. Mattheo, Lorenzo and Theodore will be making the starters, and Draco, Blaise and I will be making the main, which means you’re in charge of dessert. Consider it a penalty for waking so late.” Pansy explained as she crouched down to sort through your other clothes.
You grumble, muttering childishly under your breath as you sit up, on the edge of your bed as you come to your senses.
“I'm putting poison in yours.” You half-joke, and she isn't phased as she tosses you a floral white sundress and a handful of jewellery. You dodge the assortment of gold sent towards you and you glare at her.
“There. You’ll have to change for dinner but this is good for now. We’re all downstairs, but I sent some of the boys to fetch the ingredients. Chop chop!” She calls out, as she descends down the stairs.
Pansy. She truly tested your patience.
You manage to drag yourself up from the warm confines of your bed as you head over to the bathroom, going to take a shower. You walk past Theodore's bed as you do so, and you see his copy of Little Women lying on his bedside table. Curiosity tugs at you.
It would be bad to take a peek, right? I mean, he did hand it to you that day in the library. Granted, he took it back right after, but surely that implied you could take a look.
You (rather weakly) justify your decision and pick up the book, thumbing through the pages as your eyes scan over the various annotations and underlined passages Theodore had analysed.
One in certain catches your attention. There, messily underlined, is the quote:
“Watch and pray, dear, never get tired of trying, and never think it is impossible to conquer your fault.”
Followed by “No. 4” scrawled in Theodore's handwriting. You frown, confusion etched on your face as you try to decipher what the four could possibly mean. You flick through the rest of the book, trying to spot any other instances.
“You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone.”
No. 7
I've loved you ever since I've known you, Jo, - couldn't help it, you've been so good to me, - I've tried to show it, but you wouldn't let me; now I'm going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can't go on so any longer.
No. 5
You couldn't seem to find any rhyme or reason for this labelling. It was simply random parts of the text underlined every now and then with a number next to them, as though some sort of list. Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you're itching to look for more when the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs snaps you out of it. You quickly shut the book, placing it back down as you grab your dress and towel, dashing into the bathroom. You just manage to lock the bathroom door when you hear the door to your room click open, and you let out a small breath of relief. Your mind is working tirelessly, trying to decipher the cryptic annotations as you take a shower.
You finish off and get dressed in the bathroom, taking your time to avoid Theodore. By your luck, when you unlock the bathroom door and peer out the small gap, Theodore is not there, and you let out a small sigh as you step out.
You put on the jewellery Pansy set out for you and slip on some socks, combing through your wet hair as you dry it lightly. Satisfied with how you looked (you did feel rather pretty, in all honesty), you make your way downstairs.
The kitchen is empty, save for Blaise putting the groceries away into the fridge. You grin as you walk over to join him, his eyes flickering over to you as you walk in.
“Morning. You got your rest, didn't you?” He teases and you shoot him a mocking smile, rolling your eyes.
“Yeah yeah, make fun of me all you want.” You sigh as you reach for the second bag, helping him put everything away.
“Where is everyone else?” You ask.
“Pansy and Lorenzo went out to get drinks, and I'm pretty sure the rest found some sort of creek or something so I think they went out for a swim,” Blaise says and you hum, nodding.
Come to think of it, you had completely forgotten about the rather surprising development between Blaise and Pansy. You and Lorenzo had bet on it as well. Deciding to pay Pansy back the favour, you begin probing into their little dilemma.
“So Blaise, tell me. What's going on between you and Pansy?” You ask, and he chokes on the coffee he was sipping as he sets the cup down. You open one of the cupboards, storing away a packet of pasta as he looks at you.
“What do you mean?” He responded, and a small grin tugged at your lips.
“Oh come on, don't act all shy now. This whole flirting thing you have going on.” You say, vaguely motioning in his direction as you put some fruits in the fruit bowl resting on the kitchen island.
“There's nothing. Just friend.” He denies, and you turn to him, resting against the island.
“Sure. Just one thing? You're both stubborn fools. Don't let that prevent anything.” You advise, looking at him. You grab an apple, tossing it into the air before catching it as you walk past Blaise, patting him on the back.
“Right now, out. I need to start prepping the dessert.” You say, and for the first time in your life, you see Blaise ever so slightly red.
He playfully grins as he walks out, and you tie your damp hair up as you look through what the boys bought.
You settle on a classic after taking note of the copious amounts of cream cheese the boys had bought (You were reminded to never ever ask them to go shopping, and you'd be sure to remind Pansy the same.)
A salted caramel cheesecake. You decided to make the biscuit base yourself - it would serve as a good way to pass the time seeing as you had the whole day to yourself.
Before you begin cooking, you wander over to the living room. Your eyes settle on a collection of vinyl records in the corner, and you sift through the sleeves, settling on one that doesn't look immediately terrible.
You carefully place the vinyl onto the turntable, the soft crackle of the needle hitting the record filling the room. The sound of a smooth jazz melody starts playing, creating a cosy atmosphere in the kitchen. As the music envelops the space, you begin gathering the ingredients for the biscuit base.
You preheat the oven and begin making the biscuits, sifting flour into the bowl as you work. It's surprisingly relaxing, the villa is empty and you're left to your own devices, humming along to the music as you bake. Sure, you definitely weren't the cleanest baker. A simple biscuit recipe had left you with a white powder coating over the kitchen, stacks of bowls in the sink and somehow, flour on your clothes as well. You huff, dusting down your dress as you place the haphazardly shapen uncooked biscuits into the oven. It didn't matter whether they looked good or not - you'd be crushing them anyway.
It only takes about 15 minutes before the delicious aroma of vanilla fills the kitchen, You're admittedly pleased at just how good they smell, and you can only hope they taste as good as they smell.
Whilst those finish off, you begin making the actual filling of the cake. You reach for one of the bowls when a certain song begins playing, your ears perking up at the sound.
“This is my conquering song
played on a wave so strong
pulled the broke-down ride for far too long”
You lightly sing along to the lyrics, a small smile tugging on your lips as you do so. You had always imagined this song to be blissfully domestic, something you'd willingly play if you were to cook or bake, so the fact you selected it by chance made you oddly happy.
Sometimes it was the little things that count.
With a little pep in your step, you walk around the kitchen as you gather the ingredients. Liberated by the villa having no other occupants, your movements are freer, a small little (unnecessary) spin or a little break to sing along as you cook.
Now, it had been long established that you really did not have the best awareness of your surroundings. This continued to be the case now because you were sure you would have stopped immediately if you had seen Theodore leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, looking over at you.
Unfortunately for you, you did not notice him.
Theodore leans against the doorway, his eyes fixated on you. They always would be, he couldn't not look at you even if he tried to.
A fond smile is tugging at his lips, watching as you lightly sing along to the song. It's offkey, and your impromptu dance moves incorporated with your haphazard baking skills is laughable, but Theodore can only look at you and feel simultaneously so happy yet also so terrified. Terrified because he acknowledges how such a simple sight can't get that smile off his face, and the fact someone has the capability of doing that to him seems daunting. He was scared because, for a brief second, he imagined walking over and helping you. You'd look up at him with that smile of yours.
God, that smile.
You have that little impish look in your eyes, ready to poke fun at him. He does the same with you. The worst thing is if he hadn't fucked up so royally, you could have been doing that.
Instead, he pushes off the doorway to go and help you. The first part goes as expected, you see him and you yelp, spinning around. He knew your ears would turn red, as they usually did when you got embarrassed. Theodore knew you like that.
He knew you'd look at him akin to a deer caught in headlights because your mind would go blank for a second. Theodore knew you like that.
He also knew you well enough to know that, despite his own hopes of your once confused and mortified face breaking into a wide grin, it would instead fall and you would avert your eyes.
Theodore knew you like that.
He hated it.
“Oh. Hey.” You utter, clearing your throat. You berated yourself for always acting so obviously on edge when Theodore was near. He looks down at you with an indescribable look in his eyes before he speaks.
“Hey. Need help?” He asks, and you look around at the messy kitchen, before shaking your head.
You actually did, but you'd be damned if you had to spend more time with Theodore, alone. You'd either end up dead silent or stammering some embarrassing declaration. You couldn't tell which one would be worse.
“Alright.” He mused, looking down at you. He doesn't make any move to leave though, and you're hyper-aware of the fact that he is very close to you.
His hand comes up, cupping the side of your face gently as his thumb brushes against your cheekbone. His hand is there for a second too long, crossing the boundary of what it should have been. Again, it seemed as though everything you and Theodore did crossed that boundary.
“You had flour on your cheek,” he says, and you nod, drawing away your face. You turn around, praying to the gods above that they'd stop torturing you and make Theodore leave. You keep your back to him as you continue cooking, and he seems to finally leave, making you release a breath you didn't know you were holding.
You hasten your cooking after that and you're out of the kitchen in no less than 20 minutes with the cheesecake stored in the fridge as you make your way to Pansy’s room. You absolutely would not go back up to yours, as you were sure Theodore was there.
Exactly how long did you plan on running from him?
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Hours have passed lazing away on Pansy’s bed, bored out of your mind when she finally returns.
“Finally.” You sassed, sitting up as she raised a brow at you.
“Why are you waiting here?” She asks, and you shrug.
“Can I not miss my friend?” You quip and she eyes you, knowing there must be another reason. She chooses not to probe further, however, joining you on her bed.
“We ought to get ready. I did tell the boys to dress nicely, we’re dignified people.”She chided as she got up, walking over to her closet.
You giggle at her swift change of actions and lean back on her bed, looking over at Pansy.
Her love for micromanaging you often was a negative, but now it could very much be a huge positive.
“Pans… You always know just how to style me right. Can you run up to my room and choose a look for me? I'm hopeless.” You groan, putting your hand on your chin in an exaggerated display of hopelessness. Her eyes light up, as though she was a little kid playing dress up, and she nods.
“Finally, you've come to your senses! I know exactly what I'm getting, wait here.” She gasps, scampering upstairs. You grin, having successfully avoided Theodore once again.
(The answer to the previous question? You'd run from him for a very long time, seemingly.)
Despite her reassurances, Panys arrives a solid half an hour later, a scarlet lace dress clutched in her hands. An impulse buy, the dress was shorter than what you usually wore. It had a fitted bodice but a flowy skirt, though it only reached your upper thigh. The long sleeves that extended down into flowy bell sleeves had to be your favourite feature of it, alongside the bustier style bodice at the front. She grins as she passes over the dress, alongside a pair of black boots.
“Dressed nicely but not too fancy. Plus I've been dying to see you wear this, so up and change.” She demands, pushing you up. You grin lightly at her antics as you take the dress, disappearing into the bathroom to change. You run your hands down your body as you admire yourself in the mirror. A hell of a good impulse buy, the dress looked incredible. The low cut was far out of your comfort zone but boundaries were meant to be pushed, right?
(No, they were not.)
Pansy gasps as you step out, pulling you over as she admires the dress, words of praise leaving her lips.
“You look so good! Oh my god, wear this everywhere.” She gushes, and you smile shyly.
“Thanks, Pans. Really. And you look incredible too, like positively mouthwatering,” You say and she grins, doing a small twirl in her satin black dress. After styling your hair and doing some light makeup, you make your way over to the dining room, which had already been set up beautifully.
The table, adorned with a crisp white tablecloth, is set meticulously with polished silverware, crystal glasses, and porcelain plates. A centrepiece of fresh flowers in varying shades of red and white adds a touch of elegance, their fragrance mingling with the soft glow of candles placed strategically around the room.
Pansy's attention to detail is evident in every aspect of the setup. Delicate linen napkins, folded artfully, rest atop each plate. You begin to feel excited for the evening, walking over to the kitchen as you look for everyone else. Theodore, Lorenzo and Mattheo are all in the kitchen, sorting panicking over the starters as they rush around like headless chickens. You step in and Lorenzo spots you, a wide grin breaking out on his face.
“Wow wow wow. Look at who we have here.” Lorenzo says admiringly, calling over the attention of the other two boys. You grin, ironically doing a small little pose to shake away the awkwardness of their gazes on you.
“Stunning!” Mattheo announces, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he ruffles your hair. You groan with disdain as you jab him in the side.
“Ow!” Mattheo complains, letting go as he frowns, rubbing his side.
“The bloody devil, you are.” He mumbles, glaring at you, A small laugh escapes your lips.
You affectionately pat him on the cheek, before turning to Lorenzo.
“What do you need help with?” You ask them, and Lorenzo shakes his head.
“Nothing. You go and rest, we’ll come serve them soon.” He says, and you nod.
You've been avoiding Theodore's gaze the whole time you've been in here, but you stupidly can't resist looking up at him and instantly regret it when he staring at you so intently. His eyes meet yours and he seemingly snaps out of it, swallowing harshly.
You quickly walk back to the dining room.
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A solid 4 hours or so later, you're all lounging in the living room, stomachs full with what was a surprisingly good meal. Whilst the starters were good, Blaise, Pansy and Draco had really knocked it out of the park with the main, a mouthwateringly good risotto that you helped yourself twice to. The cheesecake seemed to be a crowd-pleaser though, with Draco having three slices.
With a glass of whiskey loosely held in your hand, you take a sip, leaning back into the couch. Whilst you tried to fit the aesthetic and sip some wine, you couldn't bear the taste and (truthfully) wanted to get drunk tonight.
It was a lazy and subdued atmosphere, and you didn't even notice Pansy, Blaise, Draco and Mattheo all retiring back to their rooms. You yawn as you get up, stumbling slightly (you had drunk quite a bit actually). You sleepily bid goodnight to the remaining two ( as vaguely as possible because god forbid you say Theodore's name) and make your way upstairs (in one piece.)
You walk into your room and kick off your boots, wandering over to your bed as you begin taking off your jewellery. You look up a mere few seconds later when Theodore walks in, seemingly equally as drunk as he looks at you. He shuts the door, yawning as he pulls off his knitted jumper, leaving him with his white t-shirt on. He throws his sweater somewhere to the side as he flops down onto his bed with a sigh, rummaging through his pockets as he produces a lighter. You can't help but openly stare at him as he does so, alcohol freeing you of what little inhibitions you had.
Something about the sight of Theodore laying on his bed, lazily smoking a cigarette with his slightly messy hair and those damn eyes….
You could see his muscles shift every time he brought the cigarette up to his lips, and you didn't realise smoking could be so erotic.
For some awfully stupid reason, really I mean, you had to question your own sanity, you get up, walking over to Theodore. You're alarmingly quiet as you approach him, and don't say a word as you stand there. His eyes flicker up to you, and suddenly you realise:
Alcohol + tension + two rash people
Is not a very good mix.
You reach down, plucking the cigarette from his fingers. Theodore observes you with a small smile, those sinful eyes of his boring into you as you take a drag, before passing the cigarette back to him.
“He was right,” Theodore says after a second, looking up at you, You tilt your head. If you were already slow at making these connections, the alcohol only made it worse.
“Hmm?” You hum.
“Mattheo. You did look stunning today.” Theodore says, voice low.
Instead of doing what you usually did (some awful combination of looking away, panicking or just remaining quiet), a lazy smirk tugs at your lips as you look down at Theodore.
“Yeah?” You question, and you're 100% sure you watch his eyes flicker down to your lips.
Theodore's eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and excitement flickering across his face as he absorbs your murmured words.
Tentatively, as though testing the waters, he sits up, back propped up against the headboard as he looks up at you. His hand tugs at the sleeve of your dress, pulling you down, His hand rests on the curve of your hip, massaging light circles, and you go dizzy at the feeling.
You make no effort to move.
Rather, in a bold surge of confidence that quite literally materialised from nowhere, you swing your leg over Theodore's lap, straddling him. His hands immediately find their place on your hips, as though they're meant to be there, and he's looking at you through half-lidded eyes.
You knew this was a bad idea, but the alcohol spoke prettier words than your rationale did.
“You certainly know how to make an impression.” He murmurs his fingers trailing lightly along your thigh. You resist the urge to shudder at his touch, goosebumps erupting on your skin as he touches you. You lean closer, admiring the features of his face as you speak, mere inches away from one another.
“Well, I had someone to impress.” You say. He lets out a small, wry laugh, though he's far too consumed with looking at you.
Close the gap. Do it.
You do.
With a surge of hunger, your hands fist his shirt, pulling him in. His hand cups the back of your head as he meets your lips in a passionate kiss, mouths melding together. He holds you tightly, his grip both possessive and comforting at the same time.
The bulge of his clothed cock presses against your wetness, grinding against you with a desperate need. A small meek escapes your lips and it’s as though Theodore immediately swallows the sound, tongue slipping into your mouth as you continue to make out. It’s simultaneously lazy yet desperate - hungry.
"Fuck," Theodore murmurs against your lips, his voice laced with desire. "You're driving me insane." He mutters, trailing open-mouth kisses down your jaw and neck. You moan, arching your back as you tilt your head back, giving him easier access. He wastes no time in sucking and kissing the delicate skin of your neck, tongue soothing the places he nips at you, your skin blossoming red and purple.
His hand trails down your body, his fingertips tracing along the swell of your breasts. A low groan escapes your lips, hands coming up to thread through his hair. You tug lightly and feel him smile against your neck. With deliberate slowness, he undoes the lace on the back of your dress as he continues to press sloppy kisses to your skin, undoing the top as he tugs it down. He pulls back, eyes hungrily taking in the sight.
He flips you over with alarming ease, pinning you down onto the mattress as he hovers above you, holding your hands down by the side of your head as he begins kissing down your neck to your breasts.
“Beautiful.” He murmurs, large hands coming up to cup one of them, the other holding your hands in place. He squeezes one of your nipples, pinching the bud lightly between his fingers as you gasp, arching off the bed. The sound is music to his ears, and he grins, his eyes remaining on you as he leans down and takes the other one into his mouth, tongue running over the sensitive bud as he pulls away, blowing lightly.
The contrast sends you into a haze, and a whimper escapes your lips. Theodore wants to devour the sound, he simply can’t get enough.
“Do you know how fucking long you’ve been on my mind?” He mutters, voice laced with desperation as he leans back down to kiss you, bulge grinding against your clothed cunt in a way that had you desperate for more. You can’t even formulate a response, because you’re all too consumed by Theodore. Everything about him.
He sits up slightly, hands resting on your thigh as he runs his hands up and down, his fingers disappearing under the hem of your dress.
You feel his fingers brush against the damp spot on your panties and swear that Theodore Nott will be the death of you.
Seemingly satisfied, a small smirk tugs at his lips, observing your reactions as he slowly pulls them down. He throws them to the side, and words cannot describe the look on his face as his eyes hungrily rake over you.
You needed him, every bone in your body ached with a visceral need for Theodore. Your hands come down to his belt, tugging at the buckle as you look over at Theodore, eyes glazed over as you were driven mad with your need for him.
He undoes his belt, the sound of the metal buckle clinking as he throws it onto your bed, unzipping his slacks. You can make out the bulge of his erection against his boxers and your heart skips a beat. You’re filled with this primal need to just have Theodore, you need as much of him as physically possible.
You tug his boxers down, freeing his strained erection from its confines. You swallow harshly at the sight of his cock, the tip glistening. You lean up to meet his lips in a kiss, your hands wrapping around his length as you give him a single jerk. You suddenly realise why Theodore was kissing you the way he was because the low groan that escaped Theodore's lips had you mad for more.
“Look at what you’ve done to me.” He murmurs, pushing you back onto the bed. He hiked the skirt of your dress up over your hips, eyes straying down as he spoke.
“You’ve unravelled every thread of control I have.” He says against your lips, teasingly running the head of his cock between your folds. A low moan escapes you, desperately seeking more friction.
“I’m going fucking crazy for you. I ache for you every second of the fucking day.” He mutters, and you pull back from the kiss, looking up at him.
“You have me now.” You respond.
His lips surge forward and meet yours in a kiss with renewed intensity, slowly thrusting into you.
You both let out a collective low groan as he slowly thrusts into you, and you can feel every inch of Theodore within, stretching you out so good you feel as though the simplest movement would split you open. A plethora of gasped curses escape your lips, but Theodore silences them instantly, coming down to kiss you deeply. He buried himself inside you fully, savouring the way you stretched to accommodate him, clenching tightly. He gives you a second to adjust before slowly pulling out. He rocks back in again, his moments slow and measured, but strained as though it’s taking every inch of self-restraint to not ravage you there and then.
“More. Don’t be nice.” You moan, and Theodores swears he won’t ever be the same again. One look at you, hair splayed out against the mattress, your back arched off the bed. It’s a sight he’d never forget.
“Don’t say shit like that. I’m already close to losing it.” He utters, voice strained as his hand grip your hips harshly, surely leaving imprints.
“Good. Ruin me.” You whisper, a fucked-out grin on your face.
Theodore groans, pulling out slightly before slamming back into you. You gasp, cursing as your hands grip Theodore's sheets. He sets a ruthless pace, fucking into you hard. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, though you’re sure it had to be muffled by the moans leaving your lips. It was only then that you were thankful for having a room all the way on the top floor. You both were too drunk to realise Muffliato did exist.
“God, you’re so fucking tight. Taking me so well. It’s like you were fucking made for my cock” Theodore groans, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hands come up, running along his back as you lean up (to the best of your ability) to meet him in a kiss.
Theodore's forehead presses against yours, breaths mingling as he shifts slightly, before thrusting back into you. You can feel every inch of his cock brush against your walls, and you can’t help the pathetic plethora of moans and whimpers escaping your lips when he brushes against that spot, stoking a fire in your stomach.
“Theodore- Fuck! ‘m gonna…” You babble, and he lazily smirks, slowing down slightly as one hand tangles in your hair, tugging at it lightly. He experimentally plays with it for a second before harshly tugging your hair, eliciting another moan that felt like it came from the depths of your body, the line of pain and pleasure blurred.
“Hmm? You’ll have to speak up.” He hums, teasing you with shallow, slow thrusts.
You let out a whimper at the loss of contact, frustration gnawing at you as you look up at Theodore.
“Fuck, stop being such a tease. Please just..” You whimper, trailing off and he tuts, his grip on your hair tightening slightly as he forces you to look up at him.
“You have to tell me what you want. I don’t speak in half sentences, sweetheart.” He says, voice laced with an almost animalistic pleasure.
You groan, nails digging into Theodore's back as some slight form of retaliation.
“I’m gonna cum- please.” You say, breathlessly, and a small smirk tugs at his lips, his hand loosening its vice-like grip from your hair as it trails down the side of your face, his thumb running along your bottom lip.
“Good girl. Since you asked so nicely,” He muses, no longer teasing you with shallow thrusts as he wastes no time slamming back into you, cock brushing against your cervix. You moan, eyes rolling back as the heat in your stomach rises rapidly; the sensation of Theodore fucking into you was pure perfection.
“Theo…” You moan, breathlessly. He responds to you moaning his name with a harsh snap of his hips, nails digging into your hips as he grabs them tightly.
“Say it again.” He grunts, his thumb coming down to rub harsh circles against your neglected clit, sending a surge of electricity through you.
“Mmm- Ah, Fuck- Theo-“ You moan, and you’re sure you would have done it without him even asking.
“You close? Gonna cum on my cock?” He groans, and you’re sure you’ve become mush because you can’t respond, can’t think, your mind and body reduced down to one simple thing.
Theodore. Theodore, Theodore, Theodore.
You teeter impossibly close to your climax, nails scratching down his back. The sheer ecstasy was too much, and you felt like you couldn’t handle it but also like you needed more and more.
His eyes take over you, as if even though you're both inebriated, he tried to commit every little detail to memory, the way you moaned, mascara streaked around those eyes of yours.
His thrusts grow more intense, fingers working their magic against your clit as he brings you to your release. His relentless thrusts push you close to the edge over and over again,, eliciting a strangled moan from your lips as you feel his thrusts become sloppier, indicating that he was close. With what little strength you have left you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer as his lips descend down onto you, ravishing you with messy kisses. It takes one last thrust for you to be sent hurtling over the edge, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips as your orgasm crashes through your body with frightening force. Your walls clench around Theodore's cock, eliciting a low groan from him as he chases his own release, eyes never leaving yours.
It’s positively sinful, but he’s sure he’s never seen a prettier sight.
“Fuck-“ He grunts, his movements becoming erratic as you feel him twitch inside you. your legs don’t give in, though you’re surprised you have the strength as the rest of your body convulses with the sheer intensity of your orgasm.
“So fucking perfect.” He gasps, and with one final thrust, he stalls, burying himself deep inside you as he groans, hands momentarily tightening their grip on your hips before relaxing slightly. He utters your name with reverence like a sinful prayer, coming down to press lazy kisses to your lips as he releases deep inside you.
You reciprocate the kisses, and embarrassingly whimper at the loss of contact as Theodore pulls out of you, collapsing down next to you. You’re both breathless, panting as you come down from a high you've never experienced before. The post-orgasmic haze lingers over you, making you feel impossibly sleepy. Your eyes flicker over to Theodore and it’s evident that he feels the same. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the red spattering along his neck, not realising when you had done that.
In any other situation, you both wouldn’t have done this in the first place. But the effects of the alcohol had you both giving into temptation, and you didn’t fully comprehend just how badly you both had fucked up.
You roll over, pressing a teasing kiss to the hollow of his throat as he tugs the blankets over the two of you, an arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into him. He rests his face in the crook between your neck and your shoulder, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder with an arm wrapped around your waist. You let out a small sigh of contentment, wrapping an arm around him as his hand massages your back and side lightly, the tender feeling sending you further into that sleepy state. The sheets smell of Theodore, and you find yourself (as you often did) consumed by him.
You and Theodore both fall asleep in each other's arms, holding onto one another as the night passes by.
You had fucked up, truly.
If only you knew the consequences your actions would bring in the morning.
You couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol, for it was a known saying that drunk words are sober thoughts.
The same undeniably applied to actions too.
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@llpovi @camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8
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Pumpkin Carving (A Halloween One Shot)
Pumpkin carving and a sleepover. An excuse for everyone to gather together on Halloween now that the Party has decided they're too old to trick-or-treat.
A pumpkin carving station has been set up in the Harrington's giant three car garage. Steve did debate setting it all up in the yard, less cleanup of the pumpkin insides that way, but it was pretty chilly, and Steve wasn't sure how long they'd all take to do the actual carving.
Does pumpkin carving take long?
Steve's never carved a pumpkin so he wouldn't know. There is no universe in which his mother would have allowed a pumpkin in her house, much less under the circumstance of then cutting it open and freeing it of its insides. While Steve has never participated in the act of carving a pumpkin, he knows how it goes. Hypothetically.
He'd needed to know enough to gather all the supplies after all, so a quick call to Robin (along with some gentle teasing and mocking) and he was set.
Eddie arrives first, having been volunteered to go get the pumpkins from the patch. It's not that Steve is scared of the pumpkin patch, or anything, it's just that Eddie's van would be better for transporting them.
Steve tried to offer to unload them, insisting it was only fair since Eddie had to load them, but Eddie just rolls his eyes and gets to work. It's not that pumpkins are extra heavy, but they aren't exactly light. And Steve knows that Eddie thinks Steve doesn't want his help because of how long it took Eddie to heal, but that's not the reason. Steve just...
Steve's just drawn to watching instead of helping when Eddie grabs a pumpkin under each arm, muscles flexing as he tightens his hold enough to keep them trapped between his arms and his sides and now Steve's left wishing, wistfully and not for the first time, that it was his thighs Eddie was wrapping those arms around. That it was him Eddie was hoisting up, perhaps holding against a wall and-
"Am I going to do all the loading and unloading?" Eddie bursts his thoughts by knocking their shoulders together as he passes by, already on his second round of pumpkin unloading.
"What, no, sorry," Steve turns to grab two pumpkins of his own. It's quick work with the two of them, then, to unload, and a short wait for everyone to start showing up.
Some biked, others dropped off by parents. Steve walks out to each car to chat and confirm that yes, of course they can stay the night; they won't be a bother and I'll keep them out of trouble.
Soon enough the garage is full of people, pumpkins, and noise. Lucas and Max have migrated to the corner of the garage closest to the door leading inside to whisper together as Lucas guts two pumpkins while Max describes what she wants on hers. Will and Mike have also set themselves apart to work out whatever it is they plan to carve on their own pumpkins. Dustin, El, Erica, and Eddie have plopped down in the center and just got to work. They aren't coordinating their pumpkins like the couples seem to be doing. They do seem to be taking it the most serious, though, with the absolute silence from all of them, concentration faces fully on.
Steve is off on his own, too. He's taken a seat about five feet from Eddie but he's the furthest from the door. He frowns down at his pumpkin, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He's not sure how to start. What to do.
He looks up from his pumpkin and over to Eddie. He's using a knife to saw around the stem of the pumpkin. Which, duh. Steve should have put that together. There has to be some way to remove the insides easily, so removing the top made sense.
Without trying to overthink it all, Steve stabs into the top of his pumpkin and starts sawing his own circle around the top. It's. Well, it's something. He wouldn't say sawing a circle is fun but it's not tedious and soon enough his knife returns to the starting point and... Hmm. He watches as the bit he just cut around sags into his pumpkin. Eddie's didn't do that.
Steve frowns down at it for a moment before grabbing the stem and pulling the top off. His face wrinkles in disgust at the stringy clump of pumpkin insides that hang from the top and he sets that down to the side quickly. He's realizing now why everyone else chose to wear short sleeves even though it's cold outside as he looks around the garage and sees everyone shoving their hands into the pumpkin, pulling stringy, seedy, strands of pumpkin out.
With a sigh, Steve rolls a sleeve up and plunges his own hand into the holes he's made and almost instantly rips his hand back out. Ew. No. Gross! Wrong! The feeling of the strands breaking under the pressure of his hand, the slightly moist feeling of the inside, the unexpected slipperiness of the seeds, all of it sends a shiver of revulsion up Steve's spine. He makes a soft gagging noise against his own will.
"You gonna be sick?" Eddie asks almost immediately.
"Uh. Oh, yeah," Steve says as he feels his face heat with an embarrassed blush. He can see that all eyes are on him now, which adds to his embarrassment on top of realizing the question he was asked and what he answered. "Wait, I mean no. I'm not going to be sick."
Eddie looks from Steve to his pumpkin, and back up. "Don't like the feeling of pumpkin guts?"
"It was just unexpected is all," Steve defends, even as the thought of sticking his hands back into the pumpkin sends another shiver through him.
"Unexpected," Dustin repeats back. Steve tenses but nothing else follows that. He looks over and Dustin seems to be having a silent conversation with Eddie judging by the stare down.
"Maybe I am gonna be sick," Steve lies, standing quickly and fleeing the garage.
God fucking dammit. Why is he so embarrassed about this? Why is he... he's hiding the fact he's never done this before, and he doesn't know why. They aren't going to mock him for it. Well. Maybe a little, but in the same way Robin did. Tease him because they love him. They wouldn't really be making fun of him. Except maybe Mike but Steve doesn't really care about his opinion anyway. Gave up on that a while ago.
He goes to the kitchen sink on autopilot, scrubbing the gross, now dried and tacky feeling from his hand. He's in the process of drying his hands when a voice startles him.
"Hey man. You okay?"
It's Eddie. Of course, it's Eddie they would send after him.
"Yeah," he turns so his back is to the sink, leaning back against it to look at Eddie.
"You never have to scoop out a pumpkin before? Did someone else do it for you?"
If anyone else had asked, Steve would think it was condescending. Someone mockingly asking after nannies or servants who would do the gross part of pumpkin carving for the little rich kid. But it's Eddie, and he's just curious and sincere. So, Steve says, "nah, man. Just never done this before."
Eddie's browse crinkle in confusion and Steve thinks he's so fucking cute. He wants to kiss the confusion from his brow. "You've never carved a pumpkin before?"
Steve just gives a shake of his head before shrugging. He wants to cross his arms, close in on himself, but it's Eddie. He's trying to not shy away from the people he cares about. He's trying to let them take care of him, too.
(It's been a process, since the defeat of Vecna. Learning to let people care about him. He's better at it these days. Robin said so and if anyone is an expert on him, it's her. He can't always trust his own opinion to be unbiased.)
"I'll scoop out your pumpkin if you still want to give pumpkin carving a try," Eddie offers, a soft, lopsided smile on his face that Steve adores. The bats took a good chunk of his left cheek, and the scarring is heavy, the muscles non-responsive, so every smile is lopsided, but Steve loves them all.
"Okay," Steve says, offering a soft smile in return but doesn't push off the sink. Not until Eddie approaches, taking Steve's wrist and tugging him along.
No one says anything when they return to the garage, nor when Eddie blows past his own pumpkin to sit next to Steve and grab up his pumpkin. Eddie looks down at the hole Steve's carved, a calculated look on his face. It's cleared away soon enough when he smiles as wide as his scarred cheek allows before he gets to work on the pumpkin. He cleans it out thoroughly before handing it back to Steve, then crawls across the floor to retrieve his own abandoned pumpkin, rolling it across the floor as he crawls back.
"Oh, wait. Can you go get me a marker?" Eddie asks, as Steve is examining his pumpkin, trying to imagine a face to go on it.
"Yeah," Steve says, glad to have a moment more to think about the face as he fetches a marker from his father's office.
He returns to most of the kids having already finished their own pumpkins. Unsurprising, considering how much time Steve spent just thinking about carving before he even started.
"Marker," Steve offers it out after he's sat down again, close enough that his knee is touching Eddie's this time.
"Thanks," Eddie takes the marker and adjusts so more of his leg is pressing against Steve's. "So, you can freehand the face if you want, or I could draw you a face to cut out? If you want."
"Oh. Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure," Steve says, shoving his pumpkin towards Eddie who looks delighted by Steve's answer. It doesn't take him long to draw on a face. Triangle eyes, a little rectangle nose, and a wide mouth filled with jagged teeth.
Steve and Eddie carve in quiet, while Steve basks in the warmth of Eddie's leg next to his, touching his. He's never been sure if Eddie likes him back, not enough to announce his own crush, but sometimes... There are times like this that fill him with hope.
Steve doesn't even realize they've been abandoned to the garage until Eddie finishes his pumpkin, which is three bats carved artistically into the side. Steve is impressed, and when he turns to ask if anyone else is, there isn't anyone there.
"Oh. I didn't even hear them leave."
Eddie plops the top of his pumpkin back on, which reminds Steve he needs to do the same. He reaches for his top but Eddie beats him to it, craving the gross mass of sides that was stuck to it off before handing it over it.
Steve sets the top back on the pumpkin, and it immediately drops into the pumpkin. "What. Why did it-?"
"You gotta cut the top into an odd shape or at an angle. Otherwise, that happens. But it's okay. You didn't know, and I know how to fix it. You got some toothpicks in your house?" Eddie says, assuring Steve before he even has time to overthink it.
Can Steve be any more in love with him at this point?
"What?" Eddie whispers, eyes wide and face slowly turning red.
"What?"
"You just... you, uhh. Did you not mean to say that out loud?"
"Say wha- oh God," Steve registers what he'd thought, or apparently, what he said and now he and Eddie are just staring at each other, wide-eyed and unmoving.
"I'm not going to question if you meant it," Eddie starts slowly, clearly the more brave one of the two, "just. I need to know if you mean it, like, romantically."
"I did. Do. I-" Steve can be brave, too. He can. "I do love you. Romantically."
"Holy shit. I want to pull you in and kiss you so bad but my hands are covered in pumpkin guts and-"
Steve does it for him, both hands grabbing at his face and pulling him in.
His first time carving a pumpkin ends up being fantastic, even counting the kids flooding back into the garage to scream 'finally' at them.
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems
578 notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 6 months
Text
UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 08
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✩°。 ⋆ all falls down
- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"
in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.
genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, implied suggestive content, fluff/comfort. if you haven’t read the warnings in masterlist, then please be informed that megumi is aged up in this series (around 24-25ish)
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✩°。 ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter seven : a longer dream <- previous ✩ next -> chapter nine : all done
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The best you could describe this situation was that Megumi dragged you into your shared apartment with slight force.
He seemed to be in a foul mood to have found you with Gojo. You did try to make excuses, but he didn't want to hear it. You were afraid of him misunderstanding the whole ordeal, but the moment the door to his bedroom that was now also yours slammed shut with a resounding bang, and he pressed you against the wall only to devour your lips in a senseless kiss, your mind went blank.
"Me—" You couldn't even manage to say his name as his strong hands grasped both sides of your waist, steering you toward the bed. He practically pinned you down, and before you could fully comprehend it, he crashed his lips against yours once again.
You whined, and there was also this heat inside you that flickered and flamed the more you felt how Megumi did all of this.
His lips fervently and swiftly traced a path down your neck next.
"Ah!" you gasped. In the blink of an eye, he hiked up your sundress.
Gods, you had certainly chosen a fitting outfit for this very activity, hadn't you?
For the next half an hour, he did many things to you with his everything he had to offer and you were left reeling, couldn’t think straight after he reduced you into a total puddle of shivers in his arms.
"Can—" Damn. His voice sounded so deep in your ears, and against your better judgment, it only heightened the heat inside you. "Can I—do this?"
You were sure you would be up in flames if you said anything, so you merely nodded. He went straight for you then.
"Mmgh!" You couldn't help letting out a strangled moan, and Megumi really thought he had lost it.
To hell with everything else. Making you writhe like this—under him, no less—he just had to do it.
You were so freaking pretty in that dress and he didn't like how Gojo looked at you. No, perhaps it was the way he caught a hold on you. No one was allowed to do that. You were his wife. Only he and himself could touch you… like this.
And then there was also your voice... hells. You didn't know what it did to him.
By the end of it all, like a fever dream, you were crying out his name, tugging at his hair, and digging your nails into his back, as he pulled you into a sloppy kiss, washed and drowned in a sense of pure bliss you had never felt before.
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When you woke up next, it was still early in the evening, and you were already in your pajamas, tucked into a comfortable cocoon of blanket.
Megumi had one protective arm on your waist. Next to you, he was also already in his sweater. His eyes were pressed shut, and his hair a mess, most likely because of your doing earlier.
So he was the one who changed you into your sleepwear—of course, duh! The knowledge made you blush so hard that your face sizzled, unintentionally squirming.
You had slept with your husband. He had seen you wholly—
“Sena?” his gruff voice spooked you and you let out a yelp, effectively waking him up.
Megumi cracked his eyes open in alarm, but then sagged as he saw how your doe eyes bored into him. “Are you okay?”
“Uh—Megumi…”
“Does… it still hurt?”
You stared at him blankly. The question somehow felt so intimate that your face reddened even more. “O-oh, a bit…”
His eyes widened a fraction at your response and he immediately pulled you closer. “Sorry, I didn’t know what came over me—” His eyes then caught the sight of a small patch of dried blood at the end of the blanket and he immediately grunted.
“I’m sorry. I really am.” His fingers reached out to you to gently massage your hips, soothing them in circular motion.
His mind swirled at the remainder of what he just did, and felt himself burn with embarrassment.
“That’s okay…” you mumbled, eyes darting wildly. “It… was good. It was my first time so don’t mind the blood. You w-were good.” The heck am I saying? “So I suppose I should… thank you?”
He gazed at you in utter incredulity, but then his countenance gradually softened, giving way to a faint blush on his cheeks.
“You can’t keep seducing me like this,” he sighed. “You little minx.”
“…why is it suddenly my fault?!”
“You are too defenseless. That’s why Gojo-sensei can have his way with you.”
In the next one good second, your dream crashed and you were pulled back to reality. Right. Megumi saw you with Gojo Satoru, then he made a scene at a public place—in Harajuku, no less.
“About that…” You really didn’t know what plausible excuse that would make sense to him. “He was just… saying hi.”
Megumi glanced at you with disinterest. “I know. But it sure was aggravating, seeing him messing with you like that.”
Despite the guilt, you sighed inwardly that he bought it and didn’t question you further.
You decided to change the subject. “Were you meeting with the curse-breaker?”
"I was. She was quite strange though."
"Strange how?"
"Apparently I've met her before," Megumi murmured, his finger tracing the contours of your body, marveling at the softness of you. "She said I saved her life."
"Ehh?" You perked up at this rather interesting story. "When did you save her?"
"Don't remember." Megumi appeared to be racking his brain. "I really thought she mistook me for someone else tho—oh, perhaps that time?"
"That time, what?"
"Hmm, Gojo-sensei took me to practice my divine dogs as a kid once, and we ended up stumbling into a place full of cursed spirits," he said in a thoughtful manner. "Perhaps Hana was there too?"
You blinked up at him, observing how intensely Megumi was pondering this matter. His description of her as "strange" led you to an extreme conclusion.
"Don't tell me... she's got her eyes on you?"
"Huh?" he stopped tracing your soft curves. His lips pursed into a thin line and a frown formed on his forehead at your quip. "No. What are you saying?"
"A crush on the boy who saved her life many, many years ago~" your voice took on an exaggerated, sarcastic tone, which served to make him shoot you a withering look. "Now that she meets him again, it's just like fate..."
"I have a wife," he pointed out with a roll on his eyes. "Namely, you."
"Hmph."
A smile tugged at the corners of Megumi's lips as he noticed you sulking, turning away from him and wrapping yourself in the blanket. "What's the matter, hmm?"
Gods, his darling little wife. Who would have imagined, on that messed-up wedding day several months ago, that fate would bless him with such an adorable thing such as you?
"Nothing. I'm hungry."
"Hungry? Ah, it's time for dinner," he said, rising from the sheets. You instinctively looked in his direction, wanting to follow suit, but a slight burn between your legs made you pause, your breath catching.
Megumi looked back at you that instant. "What's wrong?" he inquired, and you found yourself wanting to bury yourself beneath the blankets as you blushed uncontrollably.
"...can't walk. Get the food here."
And then, the most melodious sound reached your ears. Megumi chuckled heartily and freely, and perhaps this was the first time you had seen him so joyful since you married him.
You were awestruck. Your husband was so freaking attractive you were at a loss of words.
"I was that good, huh?" Megumi smirked slyly. "Right, wife. You'll have dinner in our bed."
You shot him an indignant pout as he walked away. Once he was out of sight, you finally allowed a smile to creep across your face.
Living an indulging life with Megumi like this, you were blissfully unaware that soon—far sooner than you thought—this life you had known would collapse upon itself once again.
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The second hearing to decide the next head of the Zen’in clan took place a few weeks later. You and Megumi didn’t attend the first one because you were still mourning your mother, but this time, you had to be there.
“This place never fails to give me the creeps,” you muttered, gazing up at the imposing Zen'in estate. You had lived here before, but you had never quite grasped what this sense of something more ominous lurking within—almost like a curse—was. You felt a bit sick.
Megumi squeezed your hand that was clasped in his, as if reassuring you. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Your eyes darted at every corner of the place, searching for a certain someone who would lurk in the shadows, but didn’t find her. This only heightened your anxiety.
“You look a bit pale,” Megumi remarked, noticing the tension in your expression ever since you arrived here. “Do you want to go back? You don’t need to be here if you don’t want to.”
“No, that’s okay.” You had to be here. If anything you had to make sure of something.
The main hall bustled with activity as clansmen moved about. You breathed a sigh of relief the instant you laid eyes on Gojo Satoru sitting proudly at the first line of audience with an unapologetic smirk, his blindfold twitching. That was one thing taken care of.
The Zen'in elders made their entrance into the hall, with Zen'in Naoya following closely behind. It had been a while since you last saw him, and a surge of anger welled up within you as he shot you a vicious smile. You clenched your fists tightly in your lap.
You still had a score to settle with that bastard, and you vowed by everything you had that you would end him with your own two hands.
Megumi took his seat next to Naoya at the front, and with bated breath, you waited for this godforsaken thing to begin.
"Welcome," Zen'in Ogi greeted with a nod of acknowledgment to both heirs. "We have assembled here to oversee the second session of voting process for our next clan head. Now, as we can all see, we have the two candidates before us."
Naoya abruptly stood up from his seat. "Before we move forward with the votes, I have a suggestion to make." He swiftly turned to address the gathering audience.
"And what might that be, Naoya?"
"For the third and last hearing, three weeks from now," his grin was screaming malice to you, and you really felt like something was up with him. "I propose a duel."
Gasps emanated from the audience, and you stared at him in horror, while Megumi furrowed his brow in surprise.
"A duel to determine who between us is stronger," Naoya proceeded calmly. "Naturally, it's only appropriate for a Zen'in clan leader to be unparalleled in strength, wouldn't you agree?"
Silence gripped the room, and you desperately wished for someone to voice their objection. Out of the corner of your eye, Gojo unexpectedly raised his hand.
"I agree. Under one condition," he nodded with a genial smile, and you spun towards him that instant, utterly aghast. "Exile for the losing side."
Naoya barked a laugh. "But of course, if the other dies, then the winner takes all."
Megumi found himself at a loss for words, witnessing how this situation had spiraled out of control. He had never desired any of this—he would need to have a serious conversation with Gojo to tell him that he had enough of this nonsense later on.
Zen'in Ogi appeared to consider the proposal for a duel as he nodded. "Does anyone here object to this proposition?"
No one raised an objection and a sickening feeling churned in your stomach. Gods. Megumi. Your Megumi. He was going to face this manic bastard who had been plotting against him all along. This duel meant death.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over you. The mere sight of Naoya's face was enough to trigger this queasy sensation that twisted your insides.
"Therefore, this duel will be held in our disciplinary pit," Ogi added. "Once both Fushiguro and Naoya step into the arena, a curtain will be drawn, and no one can exit until a victor is declared."
You didn't understand. This decaying old man had promised you that he would somehow remove Naoya from equation. So why, all of a sudden, was he consenting to this outrageous proposition?
"While we're on the subject, there's another matter I'd like to address," Naoya said, now rather smug and even more confident than before.
"Regarding how you people do the votes." Suddenly, he locked his eyes with you. Unwillingly, you flinched at his gaze. A sense of foreboding washed over you, that made you realize that he knows—
Naoya's smirk turned into a menacing scowl as he hissed, "You conniving bastards. All of you here—you are all conspiring against me."
Commotion erupted in the room. "What is the meaning of this, Naoya?! You uncouth, ungrateful—!"
"Do you all take me for a fool?" he jeered, before suddenly spun towards Ogi. "And that includes you."
"What are you talking about?"
Now, even Megumi had reached his limit of being in the backseat of his own destiny. It appeared that everyone in the room grasped the implications of Naoya's words. Heck, even you seemed to be aware. Why was he the only one who didn't know?
"Hah." Naoya cast a sadistic sneer at him, followed disparaging snort. "Don't play the fool. I'm well-aware of your machinations behind my back, Fushiguro. You and that whore of yours—"
And then it was like something clicked in Naoya's mind when he saw your horrified expression. "Oho, don't tell me..."
Megumi growled. "What exactly are you getting at?"
"Well, well… This truly is unexpected!" Naoya mused, laughing to himself, his demeanor increasingly erratic. “Apparently you are the ultimate fool here, Fushiguro.”
"Answer me, you unhinged bastard!"
"Well, why don't you ask—"
Megumi could swear he felt a shockwave that made his heart sink when Naoya suddenly pivoted towards you, pointing an accusatory finger, words dripping with contempt.
"—that Hara whore! She is your wife, is she not? Don't you know that she is the one behind this entire shitshow?"
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✩°。 ⋆ next -> chapter nine : all done
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🏷️ taglist
@moonmalice @hellothere9597 @qtnfer @firstplaidpeachnickel @waddlingwanderer @chilichopsticks @satorus-slut @dcvilxswish @lees-chaotic-brain @tojirin @bluebreadenthusiast @pandabooster @cole-silas @becsmarvel @giuli-in-earth @fuckimgenderfluid @haitanisrarity @kimura-uzuri @bicchaan @lunavixia @stevenknightmarc @rory-cakes @sushisimp @sad-darksoul @iluv-ace
411 notes · View notes
musical-shit-show · 3 months
Text
bad idea, right?
Pairing: Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Sinner!Reader
Inspiration: Prompts #47 (“you’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”) from Prompt List 1 and #34 (“hate is not the word. i loathe you.”) from Prompt List 3
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 1 of Hazbin Hotel, heavy cursing, homophobic language, Adam is just generally an asshole (duh), mentions of murder, depression (?), angst, digital stimulation, choking, general kinda rough smut (18+, minors DNI!!!)
Word Count: 1,657
Author’s Note: So ever since that Hazbin finale, I’ve loved the concept of Adam getting sent to Hell, mirroring how Sir Pentious was redeemed to Heaven. So, since it’s Hell, I figured this would make sense to have it be a little darker and more mature than my typical stuff. So yeah, minors DNI (for real, I don’t want to have to block anyone). If people like this, I might try my hand at other Hazbin characters if I feel so moved (or if anyone sends in a request). As always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists if you do want to send in a request! Happy reading, you degenerates.
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“Would you get your hands off me? I just stepped in the door, asshole.”
“Did anyone see you?”
The door slammed behind you, shaking the walls of the seedy motel room on the west side of Pentagram City. Needy hands were already roaming over your figure, and you groaned in frustration.
“No,” you hissed, shrugging away from Adam’s grasp, taking off your overcoat. It was raining heavily that night, so most of the denizens of Hell had confined themselves to the indoors for the evening. That is if they weren’t working the corner or trying to find their next fix.
“As if I want to be spotted here anyways,” you huffed, “I have a reputation to uphold too, ya know.”
“Reputation,” he repeated, his golden eyes glowering beneath the horned mask that he still insisted on wearing. He chuckled darkly, “If I was seen cavorting around with a fucking sinner, there would be zero chance of me getting back to where I rightfully belong.”
Adam couldn’t fathom how this happened to him. He was then first man, the first human, and wielded unimaginable angelic power beyond comprehension.
But he was taken out by a two-foot tall, one-eyed maid with a penchant for stabbing. It almost would’ve been badass if it didn’t result in his untimely demise.
Next thing he knew, he woke up hours later, his angelic form altered into a tacky red and black cloak and broken wings. He still maintained his gold pupils, a haunting reminder of his previous afterlife.
And now he was a fallen angel.
Fallen.
Fallen. All because of that clit-licker Charlie Morningstar and her merry band of misfits. Which, at the present moment, included you. You had decided to take up residence at the Hazbin Hotel, and it made his blood boil.
So why did he still feel so drawn to you?
“Newsflash, but you’re down here too, dickwad,” you spat, taking offense to his comment, “You fucked up big time going after Lucifer’s daughter, and you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”
Before you could launch into a tirade, Adam grabbed you firmly, pulling you flush against him, “Ya know,” he purred, “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”
“Pig.”
“Talking back will only make you pay for it later, dollface,” he growled, his dick twitching under his robe as he eyed you hungrily, “And if you didn’t like it, why do you keep coming back for more, hmm?”
You glared at him. The truth was, you didn’t know. He was the antithesis of everything you were trying to work toward; ever since the Princess of Hell had let you seek refuge in her hotel, you felt like you actually could be on the path to redemption.
That is, before you had a chance encounter with a fallen angel—and not just any fallen angel, but Earth’s first man—who also happened to be a massive shithead. You almost felt bad about lying to Charlie and the rest of the crew, but there was something about Adam that made it impossible for you to stay away.
You felt your insides twist as Adam spun you around so your ass was pressed against him, his form much larger and intimidating than your own. You let out a groan as his fingers weaved through your hair, giving it a slight tug as he pulled it back to expose your neck.
He nipped at the sensitive skin by your collarbone, while his other hand deftly palmed around the front of your skirt until it was hiked up to expose your panties. You should’ve been disgusted by the thought of him—and oftentimes, you were—but that didn’t stop your body from tingling with arousal.
He could sense it, the anger radiating off of you. It only turned him on more. These days, he only felt this kind of thrill when he was taunting you, teasing you until you came undone around him.
It was almost as good as when he would come down for his yearly visit, slaughtering sinners with his faithful lieutenant by his side.
Almost.
“Can’t hate me that much when you’re wet as fuck for me, huh hot stuff?” he said, his voice low in your ear. His grip tightened, the discomfort of his clawed fingers becoming almost unbearable.
“Hate is not the word,” you muttered, venom laced in your words, “I loathe you. I should do all of Hell a favor and kill you for good.”
You both knew your threats were empty. Having been an angel, Adam possessed more power than half the overlords of Hell. There was nothing special about you. If he wanted, he could snap you like a twig.
But despite his best efforts, Adam was incredibly lonely. Despondent, even. He didn’t know who he was without his legion of exterminators and Lute.
He had no plan to take over even a measly quadrant of Pentagram City, because he was struggling with the point of it all. Most overlords were now armed to the teeth with angelic weapons, which meant one more stab to the back and he was done for good.
Maybe an end to this misery would be good, but he so desperately wanted to claw his way back to Heaven that it wasn’t a risk he was currently willing to take.
He felt like a pathetic coward. But at least he had you to torment. At least when he was with you, he could stifle the cacophony of melancholia in his head. For a little while, anyways.
“Ugh, I love it when you talk dirty,” he mused, unphased by your aggression as he removed your shirt, exposing your breasts. His fingers moved your clit as he stroked you through your underwear, making you flinch, “Face it, toots. You might not be as fucked up as I am, but you have to admit this is adds just the right amount of spice to your miserable fucking existence.”
“If you’re gonna monologue all night about me being demon scum, I can go,” you shot back, glancing back at him with an annoyed look splashed across your face. “Besides, I told you last time, I’m not fucking you if you keep that stupid mask on.”
The digital façade he wore fell into a scowl, but Adam caved almost immediately and tossed the mask aside, revealing his tousled brown hair and piercing eyes. A five o’clock shadow adorned his face, and you’d almost consider him handsome if you knew nothing about his personality.
He pushed you onto the bed, his fingers threading to grip your hair again, making your back arch. Your comfort was the last thing on Adam’s mind. A part of him actually liked that you fought back against him; being challenged made fucking you even more interesting. 
You could feel how hard he was against your ass, and the pit in your stomach started to tense as you felt his cock rub against your folds, your panties now hanging pathetically from your ankles after he ripped them away from your waist.
Satan forbid he actually take off that stupid outfit of his; he had no problem disrobing you, but you didn’t have time to protest. With a sudden thrust, he sheathed himself into you, making you moan involuntarily.
You could almost hear the smirk coming from behind you as Adam began to pound into you almost immediately, his pace steady and rough. “You’re gonna take it like a good little slut, aren’t you?” he mocked, not letting on how perfect you felt around him, “You know there isn’t demon dick in all of Hell that’s as good as the original.”
How this guy got into Heaven in the first place, you’d never know. “Wouldn’t be too sure of that,” you needled as he pulled you to him again, his strokes getting deeper and making your abdomen tighten, “I’ve heard Lucifer is amazing in bed.”
You knew this would set him off; any time you invoked Lucifer’s name, you knew you were playing with fire.
Adam growled in your ear, his temper flaring. His rhythm quickened, becoming more frantic and desperate. You felt your eyes starting to water as he slammed into you, causing your pussy to throb around him.
Before you could utter another insult, you felt his hand finally loosen its grip on your hair and rest on your throat, squeezing the sides of your neck as he continued fucking you from behind.
He wasn’t going to forget that comment, but he could bitch about Lucifer later; he had more pressing matters at hand.
“Doesn’t matter, babe,” he said, his breathing starting to get ragged as he inched closer to coming inside you, “Your cunt is mine.” Adam might’ve been a sadistic asshole, but he was no idiot; he knew you were just as wretched and alone as he was.
You had to be if you were willingly sneaking around with God’s former favorite on a regular basis.
Which suited him just fine. If he was really damned, he might as well fill his time filling someone else.
His grasp tightened around your throat, and you felt your climax building inside you as he rutted against you at a now punishing speed. “Fuck you,” you squeaked out, trying to sound intimidating, but it was hopeless.
You unraveled around him a few moments later, spasming as you gasped for air, the constriction around your throat deliciously agonizing. Adam spilled into you soon after, a low hum of pleasure emitting from him. Him coming inside you was the most intimate he’d get as far your hookups were concerned.
Feeling equal parts disgusted and satisfied, you pulled your underwear back on, resting on your elbows and finally able to look him into the eye again. Even in the lusty post-sex haze, you could feel the sadness in his stare.
“So,” he drawled, leaning down to close the gap between you, “Same time next week?”
~~~~~
thanks for reading, depraved sinner! as always, please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed! <3
262 notes · View notes
jooniperbonsai · 3 months
Text
My Bloody Valentine (jjk)
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Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x human reader (afab)
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 13.9k
Release date: Thurs. February 15, 2024
Genre: smut, fluff, humor, hella angst
Summary: You don't understand why your vampire boyfriend is so caught up in the idea of a silly holiday, until you realize it's about more than just candy hearts.
Warnings: Blood (duh), swearing, blood drinking, lots of angst, allusion to jungkook being bisexual, alcohol, brief description that sounds similar to disordered eating, jungkook is clingy and kind of a brat, so is reader tbh, accusations/assumptions of cheating, both are conflict avoidant which makes things worse, discussions of death and infertility, references to opiate addiction, medical theft, uh y/n kind of non-consensually feeds jungkook her blood, oral sex (m/f), masturbation (m/f), fingering, temperature play, unprotected rough sex, clit spanking, biting kink (!!!! just be warned lol), choking, dirty talk, mention of menstrual sex/oral kink, mention of somnophilia, creampie
a/n: Hi! Happy (late) Valentine’s Day! Thank you all for your enthusiastic support for this fic. I hope it exceeds your expectations (as it exceeded mine). I have some extra thoughts that I’ll leave at the end of this fic to avoid spoilers, but I hope you enjoy my little y/n and vampire Jungkook couple as much as I do. I would like to thank p for talking this universe through with me until it made sense.
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“All I’m saying is that Halloween hardly feels like a holiday about vampires!”
“As opposed to what? Christmas?”
You’ve been standing in your kitchen arguing with your boyfriend for so long that the once-scalding cup of coffee in your favorite mug is now cold. Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool against the counter, his white shirt rolled up his forearms to reveal a similar pale shade underneath. You can see the corded tendons of his arms flex as he wrings his hands together in frustration. 
When you woke up this morning, it was not from a lazy well-slept haze you were expecting to have. Instead, you had awoken to a crash coming from the kitchen, sending your heart jolting as you tried to make sense of the world and the source of the noise. 
Buttercup, your cat and usual suspect for mischief, mewled angrily from her perch as she, too, eyed the wrongfully accused sleep disruptor. As she arched her back in one long, tail-shaking stretch, she glared at you and then twirled herself around to face the wall before settling back into her bed with a final huff. 
If it wasn’t Buttercup, then it could only be one other creature. 
You’d padded your way down the hall to the kitchen, only to see Jungkook already dressed and swearing to himself as he gathered the shattered pieces of a glass measuring cup and what looked like orange juice into a pile with a wet dish rag. 
“Don’t come any closer!” he shrieked, and before you could even open your mouth to assure him you’d be fine, he'd already swooped you into the living room and onto the couch. “Don’t move!” he ordered and because you heard the sharp warning creeping into his tone, you obeyed. 
An hour and a half later, the kitchen is a mess from what you now understand to be Jungkook’s attempt at cooking you breakfast for Valentine’s Day, a holiday that you both agreed you wouldn’t celebrate.
You take a sip of your coffee, trying not to wince at how it still somehow tastes burnt through the too-sweet pink sugar cookie creamer he’d doused it with when he insisted on making you a cup. 
“No, of course not. Y/N! But don’t you think Valentine’s Day should be more about vampires?” 
You snort, and the residual coffee on your tongue shoots to the back of your throat, sending you into a coughing fit. 
“What?” You say when you finally regain composure. You set down the mug and glance around for a single cup in your kitchen that hasn’t been dirtied in this process of making…well…you’re not sure what. There’s some burnt edges of something in the sink, but a weird goo glazing various bowls that somewhat resembles pancakes. However, a bright green lump of…maybe spinach?...rests in those as well, so you’re not entirely confident where he was going with this execution. 
Jungkook isn’t usually this oblivious to human tendencies, mostly because it wasn’t so long ago that he himself was a human. In the year you’ve been together, you’ve learned all about Jungkook’s swift descent into vampirism. Unlike many of his kind, he’s a fledgling. He was turned a handful of years ago and doesn’t exist in the ancient, strange accents and customs form of vampire some know. Nor is he a sleepless, sparkly teenager with superhuman speed. Yes, he has fangs, is paler than the normal person, and he will not (you think) age. But as someone who has maintained his twenty-something appearance, this currently presents as a non-issue because, if still alive, he would still be a twenty-something. 
And unlike the stereotypes of his kind, Jungkook is not in a decades-long bloodlust. Lust, perhaps, but it’s unknown if that’s because of his vampirism or because he’s a horny man. The one who changed Jungkook did so in a dark night club in Paris between searing hot kisses, where he slid his fangs along Jungkook’s throat while rutting against him on the dance floor. Jungkook, in that drunk and sex-induced haze, never suspected that the slight sharpness tracing along his jugular, sending a delicious chill down his spine, would result in him waking up three days later in a hotel in Vienna with nothing more than a vague note of warning and a few plastic bags of blood chilling in the mini fridge. 
While he doesn’t consume much now beyond A or O positive, Jungkok often cooks you meals so you’re not as tired when you get home from work. It’s sweet, but you know that he does it for himself, for the reminder of his humanity and, as he once admitted himself, for the fact that more energy saved from you not cooking means more energy for him to fuck out of you seven days a week. 
“I’m going to need you to explain your reasoning behind that logic,” you say, and finally locate a clean cup to fill with water. 
Jungkook grunts, and when you glance over at him, you can see he's pouting, his dual lip rings pulled under one of his fangs. 
“Well,” he says, tense, “I just thought…with all this stuff, Valentine’s Day should be more about, you know, vampires? Blood? Red? Hearts?”
“Baby,” you laugh, and fish around on the cluttered countertop for something to eat until you spot a bowl of strawberries tucked behind a jar of kimchi. Your stomach growls. “Valentine’s Day uses the heart motif because of love. You know that. You weren’t born yesterday.” 
He rolls his eyes in annoyance and you furrow your brow before popping the sweet fruit into your mouth. What is going on with him today? 
“Yes, I know I wasn’t born yesterday! Thank you for the reminder! But I’m saying that Halloween is this holiday that makes vampires into these beasts who suck and drain all the blood from bodies or sleep in coffins! Beware the dark corners of the world or else they’ll get you! But Valentine’s Day, what even is this about? A fat naked baby who spears you with an arrow and suddenly you’re in love with someone? Sounds way more monstrous to me! And people embrace this guy? People want him to stab them so they can be all fluttery in love and get all these nice things. But I have to be seen as this awful monster all the time? It’s just not fair!” he shouts, and swipes his hand across the counter. 
You gasp as you watch an empty plastic container clatter to the ground before he brings his hands up to cover his face. 
Jungkook isn’t one for temper tantrums. While he does have a tendency to be more sensitive, throwing things, even empty containers, is very out of the norm for him. You remember early on in your relationship, he once used a little too much of his supernatural strength to hit you with a pillow when you were both goofing off, which resulted in you being smacked right off the bed with the wind knocked out of you. 
You spent the rest of the day posted up on the couch under his orders, while he waited on you hand-and-foot despite the fact that once you recovered (mostly from laughter), you were perfectly fine. It led to an eventual discussion about how you weren’t so breakable, where you proved your point by showing him just how flexible you were. 
Which is why now, as Jungkook huffs all over the place, you know something is seriously wrong. 
You move away from the strawberries and walk around the kitchen island to Jungkook, gently pulling his hands down.
“Hey,” you whisper, looking up at him. His hair has fallen into his face, disheveled from all his fussing in the kitchen and the many times this morning you’ve seen him running his fingers through it. 
Jungkook yanks his hand away and stands, pushing away from the counter before stomping into the living room and pacing angrily. You follow him.
“Hey,” you try again, firmer. “You gonna tell me what is going on? Because normally you don’t leave a giant mess of whatever that is going on in the kitchen before you walk away from it, and you especially don’t walk away from me when I’m trying to talk to you.” Your jaw sets and you stand in the doorway, crossing your arms as you watch him pace. 
He responds with a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, well that’s a start. Can’t even fucking cook my girlfriend a meal on this stupid holiday.”
This is exactly why you told Jungkook you don’t want to celebrate Valentine’s Day this year. All week long he’s been making snarky comments about it, from rants about the greeting card company’s agenda to explaining how it’s become over-the-top and overrated to now, as of this morning, promoting vampires as the superior holiday mascot to Cupid.
Truthfully, you’ve always liked this holiday. When all the post-holiday sales were running months ago, you’d noticed a deal on the record player Jungkook had been eying for months but would never let himself have. His last one had started to break right after you two started dating, but he was always a good sport about it, cracking jokes about how the old-timey canned sound it produced didn’t play Eminem, but “Eminesquire the Third”. Prompted by the desperate need to replace the tinny echoes that haunted your apartment, you didn’t hesitate to snag this gift for him and immediately wrapped it before shoving it under your bed to give to him today. 
Well, that was until all this started a little over a week ago. Up until that point, he’d seemed fine, never mentioning an opinion on Valentine’s Day. Then one morning you woke up and saw him complaining about how since he turned he would never be able to eat chocolate again. Which was incredibly dramatic, because Jungkook can eat if he wants to, but he chooses not to since it doesn’t do anything for him anymore. 
Every mention of the holiday since, from the ads popping up on his phone to the colorful heart shaped decorations in store fronts, has made him irate and hostile. 
“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, but I didn’t ask you to make me breakfast,” you huff, now offset by his bad mood. “Like, I know that I told you last week we didn’t have to do any of this. So I’m not sure why now you’re trying to make some grand gesture of breakfast or stomping around arguing with me about the politics of vampires being a traditional mascot for Halloween instead of Valentine’s Day or how dumb you think this holiday is.” 
His nostrils flare. “Well excuse me for trying to be a good boyfriend and do something nice for you!” 
“What?” Heat flashes through your entire body as you feel the thin hold you have on your anger slip. “Oh, I see. So this is all about me is it? This is my fault? Tell me, when I go in there and clean up your mess of all my food you wasted by doing this nice thing I didn’t ask for, is that also for me as a treat? Or is that going to be leftover in the fridge for me to clean later?” 
Jungkook’s eyes narrow as you match his anger. He opens his mouth to speak, but you raise your eyebrow, daring him to try. 
“Ah ah,” you warn, your voice laced with venom. “I’m not fucking done speaking.”
He slides his tongue over his teeth instead before sucking in his lips. 
“So, after I noticed it hurt you and said we didn’t have to do it, after I promised you I didn’t mind if we skipped the theatrics of this holiday, you what? Took it out on me? How the hell is this being a good boyfriend, Jungkook? How is you shutting me out for the last week, pouting and being an absolute brat doing me any favors? Showing you love me?”
You begin to feel the fury recede into something worse: pain. It settles over the heat, moving back down into your throat with a sharp lump. 
“You wanna talk about shutting someone out, Y/N? Really?” Jungkook roars, halting his anxious movement. “That’s rich considering the secrets you’re keeping!”
Your brain buzzes with confusion and anger. You rewind the conversation, trying to form connections that would lead to this accusation. 
“Are you serious? Wh-Do you think I’m cheating or s-something? Jungkook who the fuck do you think–” Your voice cracks, and you heft a heavy sob from your chest. 
Never in your relationship have you two ever suspected the other of cheating. You’ve always been so certain of each other, that you two would never stray, that your connection and the very nature of your relationship demonstrated a type of bond that didn’t present anyone else as an option simply because you never wanted anyone else. 
But given how things have been going, how Jungkook has been hiding things from you, you are starting to wonder if that’s not the case, if him pulling away isn’t to try to protect himself from getting hurt. 
You’ve also tried not to notice how this month, when you counted the inventory of the blood bags stashed in the back of the freezer, it wasn’t nearly as empty as it usually was. You considered that maybe Jungkook just wasn’t thirsty, that maybe some of the bags you’d snagged from work, one of them being plasma, were satiating his hunger more than usual. With how Jungkook is looking at you now, eyes wide with the shock of your address, you can see you were wrong, the faint circles of thirst tugging under his eyelids. 
You pull your shirt sleeve up to wipe your dripping nose, only to see it’s stained blue from some mysterious breakfast ingredient. 
“I’m not saying you’re cheating, Y/N! God why would you think that! Fuck, no, this.” He produces a folded up envelope from his back pocket and shoves it toward you. 
You sniffle and take the envelope, noticing it’s addressed to you. From your work. 
Your stomach sinks. You know exactly what that is. “You know what? I’m going to take a shower,” you mumble, and you see in your periphery Jungkook’s head snap toward you. 
“What?” he says exasperated. “Now? We–”.
You nod, choosing not to look at him now as you cut down the hall and shut the bathroom door firmly behind you.
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You and Jungkook met, ironically, at a blood drive. 
You were both volunteering to hand out snacks and mini water bottles to donors at the drive. This was a few months before Jungkook had gone on his Eurotrip, a few months before he would never again be able to volunteer with clinics to help patients. 
While you’d met back then, and certainly had some chemistry that resulted in one really sexy car makeout ending with his hand down your scrub pants and you panting into his neck, it wasn’t until a few years later you’d reunited. 
Jungkook had been pacing around the clinic near closing time, his thirst becoming far more unbearable by the hour. He had been trying desperately to avoid consuming human blood, but the various city rats or injured birds he was drinking from were still racking him with unfavorable guilt and an almost hazy sickness you remember sinking his features. 
When you went to leave that night, you’d spotted Jungkook propped up against one of the glass doors, pale, with heavy bruise-like markings under his eyes. He was conscious, you’d noted, despite the fact that you couldn’t detect a pulse and his skin felt harder and icy to the touch. When you grabbed your phone to call an ambulance, he knocked it from your hand, instead begging you for a bag of blood. 
“I can’t do transfusions, Jungkook, not here. That’s why we need to get you the hospital, so we can you look you over and–”
“No, Y’N, that’s not what I mean.” He’d laughed and flashed you a weak smile. “I don’t need a transfusion.”
“Then, what––.”
And that’s when you saw them: his fangs. 
When you’d heard about Jungkook going missing in Paris, randomly disappearing in the night and showing back up months later with no story to share, there were rumors circulating that he’d started doing drugs and lost his job at the record store because in Europe he got hooked on opiates. 
And you’d so easily believed that lie, though it soured your stomach. What other explanation was there for someone disappearing and coming back more pale, less human? You simply continued on with your work, finishing school in between and finding a more permanent presence at the clinic as a phlebotomist.
Feeling guilty, you turned around and headed back into the building, emerging with two bags of warm blood that you watched him practically shotgun in the passenger seat of your car. You didn’t tell him it was your blood, but as he told you later, he knew anyway. He could smell your particular flavor dotting the bandage. 
Slowly, you and Jungkook became closer, you swiped a blood bag here and there from the clinic when no one was looking, sitting with him as he told you the story of him turning or the first time he fed. It seemed too surreal to be true, but as the dark circles under his eyes began to fade over the weeks, and his laugh started sounding more round and full, you felt like there was no way you could deny who he was, or more importantly, how he made you feel. 
Being around Jungkook was addicting, which was evident in how easy it became for you to steal blood from the clinic without thinking twice. At first, you felt awful, knowing that each bag you were taking could very well be taking away someone else’s chance at life. But the more you thought about Jungkook, how he was just as alive as any human– how he feathered his fingers through his hair or how just a few years ago he breathed and moaned before you in the backseat of your car– what really was the difference between giving him blood versus some other person? Didn’t both bodies need it to survive? 
The months ran on, and the crisp fall days that welcomed Jungkook back into your life were becoming tender, warmer as the early blooms of spring replaced them. Jungkook, too, was warmer, his body full and flushed with blood as he finally returned to as much of a human as he can be, reaching for your hand when you two walked through the park together, or falling asleep on your stomach while watching a movie. 
Vampires sleep, you learned, though it’s not so much necessary as it is habitual, as Jungkook explained. He once tested himself to see how long he could go without sleeping, and as it turned out, the answer was evidently forever, for he managed three weeks not feeling groggy in the slightest. But sleeping helped time pass. Nights were lonely when the only people he wanted to interact with weren’t around, and grappling with being some shade of immortal often led Jungkook into a spiral as he processed time passing. 
Therefore, sleep was welcome when it came. Especially with you, who he could tuck himself close to, and the soft beat of your heart served as his lullaby.
That’s when you knew that you loved him: when he told you that he went to sleep for you, that otherwise, he waited for you to wake up so he could see you again. 
You’d become just as addicting to be around as he was for you, and you trusted it wasn’t just because you were his favorite teller at the blood bank who snuck him a withdrawal. 
It was because he loved you too.
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The fog on the bathroom mirror doesn’t show your reflection currently, but if it did, you know you’d see Jungkook standing behind you silently as you brush your teeth. Despite his stillness and his ability to appear without making a sound when he wants, your body reacts to Jungkook like a magnet pulled toward metal. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks finally, and you rinse your mouth. 
“Because, I didn’t want you to feel guilty,” you say and reach for the envelope you left on the bathroom counter before your shower. 
After a year of sneaking blood from the clinic, one year of popping plastic bags your into pockets after writing them off under a sealing failure or manufacturing issue or recording less volume in the official donation records or claiming a miscount in inventory, you were finally caught last week with a warm bag of blood in your possession.
Stupidly, you’d popped it into your purse right before an end-of-day meeting and in the rush to make it on time, you didn’t zip everything closed securely. When you inevitably knocked your knee onto the table while shifting to get more comfortable, your purse tumbled to the floor, exposing the vermillion contents within, and issuing you an immediate suspension. 
Suspension, instead of fire only for the singular fact that the bag of cooling blood was your own. 
You had known for a while that the clinic’s director of operations was becoming suspicious. The entire team had been subject to instances of recertification and retraining to try to address whatever issues that were leading to so many mishaps. It would only be a matter of time before the records kept showing your name attached to these transgressions, though you were almost relieved when you’d learned there were other various cases of blood loss occurring for factors you weren’t responsible for, most notably some interns who kept forgetting to put the bags containing red blood cells in the refrigerator, or who were not filling the entire bags, disqualifying the entire sample. 
Overall, it would be safer to divest from your current plan, but finding an alternative to feed Jungkook was more difficult than you thought. You knew given the shortage of blood donations, you could no longer keep gleaning from work or other affiliates as resources. 
But you also couldn’t convince Jungkook to feed from you. 
You’d tried many times in the last year when he was dizzy or grumpy from thirst. And every time without fail, he refused. 
“I haven’t even bitten anyone before,” he admitted one day, the dark circles under his eyes especially purple. His stubborn refusal slurred his speech into a lisp. “And I don’t intend to start now! Especially not with you!” 
You’d dropped the subject, rooting around in the freezer until you found a blocky pint underneath a tub of freezer-burned ice cream. 
But Jungkook had drunk your blood before on that first night at the clinic. And maybe if you executed things carefully, you could supplement some packets of your own blood in to help him get by. That way, he wouldn't have to bite you, but at least he would be fed. And you wouldn’t be at risk of imprisonment for medical theft. 
So that’s what you started to do, slowly introducing him to your blood by creating fake donor names with the label machine and reprinting the same barcode as you filled bag after bag over the weeks. 
And then last week, you got caught, your only assurance that you might only be suspended rooted in the fact that you hadn’t had the time to issue a fake label for the bag before the meeting. 
And, because the blood was still warm in its pouch, because your arm had only just stopped bleeding, your case that you made of the blood being yours wasn’t entirely unreasonable. But what no one could understand was why you needed a bag of your own blood in the first place, much less why you were doing your own draw of it. 
They confiscated the bag, as well as a small sample you offered for lab comparison to confirm it was yours, and they sent you home with the letter almost like you were a kid who was in trouble at school. 
Your suspension is in effect until the board meets later this week to discuss your case, at which time you’ll be informed if you’re terminated or if you’ll be put on probation. 
You’ve accepted that you might be fired, but what you couldn’t  accept is the idea that Jungkook would definitely blame himself if he found out. Which is why you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him when it happened. If you did, you knew you would also have to admit to him that you have been non-consensually feeding him your blood instead of others’, which was a conversation you’d hoped to avoid until you were sure he would understand. Instead, you fucked up, and it’s all the more apparent as Jungkook frowns at you in the bathroom.
You rinse your mouth of the toothpaste, feeling a huge shard of guilt pierce your stomach. 
“I wouldn’t have let you keep doing this if I’d known you were at risk of losing your job,” he mutters. “You already know I feel shitty even relying on you like this.”
“That’s exactly my point! That’s why I didn’t tell you! Because I knew we would end up here!”
“And that’s why this is a problem! You are failing to see how fucked up it is for me to have to depend on you to feed me!”
“Why?” You snap, and you immediately regret it, giving him an apologetic frown. “Sorry, I mean. Why do you feel so shitty relying on me? We’re partners, Jungkook.” 
“Yeah, Y/N, we’re partners. Which means we are supposed to communicate with each other about things. That doesn’t mean you risk your entire career for me.” 
“But doesn’t it, though?” You argue. 
Jungkook groans and then wets his lips with his tongue before speaking. “No, baby. You’re not supposed to be making sacrifices like this! Not for me! Fuck, you shouldn’t be doing shit like this at all! You should be going to work, kicking ass, and then coming home to eat real food with your real boyfriend before you have incredible sex and then fall asleep!”
You cock your head at him, confused. “But, Jungkook, we already do that stuff.”
“No, we don’t, Y/N. You go to work, orchestrate some grand scheme to basically illegally harvest strangers’ blood during a national shortage, you come home and you eat. But I don’t. I leech off of someone else’s platelets. And then we have sex, and you fall asleep. And sometimes I do. But sometimes, I can’t. Because all I want to do is dream of you and I can’t do that anymore. Because I’m not real, Y/N, I’m literally a monster.” 
You shake your head furiously and step toward him. “Listen. I made the choice to do this. Ever since the first day when you showed up at the clinic. I could have left you behind, I could have insisted to take you to the hospital anyway or put you in a headlock or something–”
“You are way too weak to put me in a headlock, even on that day,” he chuckles. 
“I would have figured it out! But I had a choice in this Jungkook, just as much as you did for showing up, for asking me to help you. You could have gone somewhere else, or broken into the clinic after I left. You could have continued to live a half-life with a diet of rats and the occasional squirrel. But you chose this. You made choices, too.”
You push your toweled body into him, desperate for his touch. This is how you often are with him, needing him to ground you, to make sure you don’t spin out of control. He sighs, and you feel him circle his arms around you, his nose nuzzling into your wet hair. You shiver at the contact. Your shower must’ve been hotter than normal, because Jungkook feels almost like ice against your skin, much colder than his normal, albeit cooler temperature. 
“Fuck, Jungkook, when was the last time you ate?” you ask. 
He stiffens, then withdraws from the embrace.
“Get dressed,” he says, ignoring your question, before opening the door to the bathroom, the draft of the apartment, of his absence, leaving goosebumps on your skin in its wake.
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The kitchen is clean, any and all evidence of this morning’s tirade gone. Jungkook has changed out of his jeans and button-down for a black hoodie and basketball shorts, solidifying the idea that he has no intention of leaving the apartment for the rest of the day. 
You dress down similarly, throwing on a large ratty t-shirt and some sweats, very similar to the pajamas you’d been wearing for most of the day. 
There’s a fresh pot of coffee brewing, but you ignore it, your stomach feeling sour over the idea of putting anything into it right now. 
You lead Jungkook into the living room, and both of you sit on the couch, legs folded as you face one another. 
“I know you’re not eating.” You try to say it softly, like an observation, but as the words leave your mouth, you hear them sound accusatory, tense. 
“I know you know I’m not eating,” he responds, his tone even and cool. “I’ve seen you doing inventory checks daily.” 
“You have to eat,” you urge. “You can’t just starve like this.”
“I’m not starving,” he says, still composed, distant. 
“Bun, you’ve significantly curbed your consumption. You used to throw back two pints a day, easily.” 
“Yes, well, that was before I found out my girlfriend was suspended from work for smuggling me those two pints, jeopardizing her entire future.”
“I don’t understand why you’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”
His eyebrows rise. “I don’t understand why you’re not making it the bigger deal that it is!” 
“Because it’s not! Not really! I have it under control!”
“And how exactly do you have this under control? Getting fired? Ruining your life isn’t control!”
“I don’t think I’ll be fired. Put on probation maybe, but not fired.”
“And why are you so sure about that?”
“Because…because I didn’t steal someone else’s blood. And that’s a criminal offense. But the laws are muddier when it’s your own blood.”
“Your…your own blood. You were caught with your own blood.” Jungkook looks at you quizzically. And then you see it register. His pupils blow wide. 
“I fucking knew it,” he says. “I knew I was tasting you. I thought maybe it was just because you were on your period for a little longer than usual this month, and that maybe I was catching something in the air and just mixing up the scent with the taste of the blood. But, fuck! Goddamn it Y/N! I told you I didn’t want to feed from you and you just went and did it anyway?” 
“I’m sorry,” you admit, your cheeks burning with guilt. “I just wanted to help you.” 
“By taking away my choice in the matter? By hurting yourself? Shit!” 
“No. I–I know you said you didn’t want to bite me, so I thought maybe if I did it this way that it wouldn’t be so bad and you wouldn’t have to feel so bad about it! And then I wouldn’t be as likely to be caught at work. It gave me some protection too in this! The board is meeting later this week to talk about my case and because the blood results proved to be mine, they just have to decide an appropriate punishment. I’m not going to go to jail over this, and if I lose my job, I’ll figure something out. But, I really didn’t mean to take away your choice, and I see now that I did.” You feel your throat close as you begin to cry.. 
Jungkook is right, you took away his choice by doing this, and no matter your intention, he has the right to know. 
“I’m really sorry. I completely fucked up doing this.”
“Yeah, you did. But not in the way you’re seeing this. God. It’s not about biting or not biting, it’s how easily you did it for me. How you keep putting yourself, your own health, at risk for me! You don’t get it! You stole blood for me for almost a year. And then when you started to realize your future was at stake, you took it from your own body. Which you shouldn’t have to do!”
You swipe at the tears pooling from your eyes. “You keep saying that. Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because it’s true, baby! You shouldn’t be in this weird supernatural chaos! It’s Valentine’s Day! You should be feeding your boyfriend chocolates or eating breakfast in bed. Exchanging presents and going on dates to dinner or the movies. Having sex! And not just sex, making love, making babies!” 
“But you said you didn’t want to do any of that! Jungkook, I’m so confused. What is it that you want? If you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, I have a present for you wrapped up that I’ve been dying to give you for months. And we can go to the movies. We can have sex… I don’t even want a baby!”
You pull a pillow into your lap like a shield. 
“You do want a baby,” he accuses. You snap your head up. 
“What? No, I–”
“You do. You told me on Christmas Eve, when we were watching that movie on the couch. You were falling asleep during it, but in that scene when he comes home after saying no to that deal, she says ‘I want my baby to look like you’ and you looked up at me so sleepy and warm and alive, and you repeated it back to me. You said ‘I want my baby to look like you.’” 
You think back to that night, when you and Jungkook were cuddled up together watching It’s A Wonderful Life since he’d never seen it, and between sips of a very strong eggnog, you kept studying his face, almost overwhelmed by the idea that you could ever love him more than you did in this moment. When Mary told George she was pregnant, something just felt right about that phrase, and in your tipsy, sleepy, haze, you must have recited that part back to him. 
Honestly, you do want your baby to look like him. You can’t imagine anyone else in the world whose features you would want to see copied into another human, one that you make together. 
“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not mad that you said it. I’m honored. Because if I could have children, I would want them to look like you.” His voice is tight. “But I can’t give you that. I think if I could, we would currently be arguing over paint swatches and baby names while I rub your swollen feet, not this. Because fuck we have definitely not been careful,” he chuckles. 
Despite the sadness in his voice, you feel yourself smirk. 
“And even if we adopted, that doesn’t solve one of the biggest issues out of all of this. Which is that you will grow older and more beautiful and our children would grow older and more beautiful, and I don’t know if I will. I don’t know if I’m going to be doomed by the stereotypical vampire life because I don’t know who turned me. He didn’t give me anything to go off of. Maybe I age but I do it slower. Maybe I will never age. Maybe I live forever or just a little longer than you. Or fuck, maybe instead of living forever, vampires actually have an insanely short life span because we are just another type of mosquito derivative!”
You laugh at that, though you still feel the tears staining your cheeks, making no effort to stop. 
“The point is, I can’t promise you anything human. I can’t promise you a normal life with me. Babies that we make, us growing old together. If I could do one thing different, I kinda wish I put a baby into you the first time we fucked around in that car. God knows I was hard enough.” 
“Jungkook,” you choke, ignoring his attempt at deflecting. “I don’t care about any of that. I know I said that stuff on Christmas, but I didn’t mean it like that. Maybe you can have kids! Like you said, you don’t know. For all we know, my freakishly long periods might be a sign I’m infertile. I don’t know either, I haven’t gone to the doctor or taken tests because I haven’t been too worried about it. That or aging or any of this! My job even.”
“Wait, hold on, back up. You might be infertile?” He looks almost offended by his own use of the term. 
You nod. “Maybe, but I haven’t really been thinking about it lately. I’ve been more worried about you, more focused on you.”
He squints. “Why?”
“Because you’ve been evasive and bratty and honestly just fucking awful. And I can see why. You’re thirsty. You stopped eating again. You started screaming about heart themed things being for vampires. You’ve been avoiding me…is that why you haven’t told me anything? Because of my work thing?”
“I still can’t understand why you are this nonchalant about your career,” he says and you shrug. 
“Bunny,” you warn, and Jungkook crosses his arms across his chest.
“Okay, yes,” he concedes. “Part of this is due to that. Because you didn’t tell me. But also I feel like I’m ruining your life. And if that’s the case, if I’m taking so much from you, I want to take less. I want to be less.”
“I’m a parasite. A leech. I consume human blood to carry on living my nonexistent life. I sleep but I don’t dream. I can’t enjoy things the same way. I can’t be normal and that’s what you deserve. What you need. So if I’m going to be a parasite and dependent on you, I want to make things easier. You mentioned that gift under the bed…and, I don’t know that started it all. Got me thinking about all the things I can’t give you. All the experiences you’ll never have because of me. But how much you want it. Valentine’s Day. Baby, I know it’s a holiday you like. I see your eyes sparkle every time you pass the decorations and candy at the store. Of course you have had a present for me wrapped and ready since Christmas, because that’s you and how incredible you are. And I wanted to give you some of that back, but the more I thought about it, the angrier I got that I can never be good enough for you. I can’t give you everything. And then this morning, I don’t know, I snapped. I tried to cook you something I normally can do with my eyes blindfolded and walking backwards but everything came toppling down around me and I got overwhelmed and ended up fucking it all up.” 
Jungkook reaches across the couch, taking your hand in his, tracing his thumb across your knuckles. 
“You’re so dramatic,” you accuse, and roll your eyes. 
Jungkook retracts his hand and pouts. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”
“You’re being dramatic and over the top with this broody Edward Cullen shit. I’m sick of it.” You toss the pillow to the side and sit up on the couch, edging your body closer. 
“For starters, you’re punishing yourself by not eating. Your hands are like ice, and that means you’re extremely underfed because very little blood is in you. Second, you refuse to eat because at first  it was someone else’s blood and I could get in trouble so that justified not doing it. But now that it’s freely available, because it’s mine you have some moral conniption preventing you from nourishing your body. And all of this is circling around the same problem. Which is you deciding for me what you think I want and need.” You hover just above him now, your knees digging into the cushions on either side of him as you trap him under you. 
“You decided wrong, by the way. You based what I want not on who I am, but on your own insecurities and fears about me, Jungkook. And that’s not fair to me.” 
You plant yourself down on him, straddling your weight across his chest. Jungkook gazes up at you, a frown still etched on his face, though it’s grown softer. 
“It’s also not fair to me that you are trying to control my decision about feeding from you or not. If you were a vegetarian, how would you feel if I had replaced your veggie burgers with meat patties just because I thought you needed the protein?” He asks.
You hadn’t thought about that. Your shoulders sag as you sit with the realization. 
“I need you to trust that I won’t ever go back to feeling the way I did when we first met. Look at me, are the marks under my eyes as dark? Am I as hard or pale?” You shake your head, and Jungkook reaches up to your face, touching his palm to your cheek. “I am thirsty, baby. But I also know how to control myself. I have spent months with you, around your blood, smelling you when you do something as little as get a paper cut or have a large blood clot pass during your period. Don’t look at me like that, it’s literally just blood from your body, you as a phlebotomist know better than to find that weird or gross.” You giggle, trying to ward away the flush of your cheeks. “And yes, it hurts, but kind of like when you smell something really good cooking in the kitchen and your stomach growls. But that’s the worst of it.”
“Is it though?” you ask gently, trying not to argue with him, but his eyes seem almost cloudy to you. 
His brows knit and he opens his mouth but then shuts it, nodding for you to continue. Instead, he strokes along your brow bone, then down the curves of your jaw, tracing your features with his index finger.
“Your eyes aren’t as clear as they are when you feed regularly,” you sigh sadly. “I don’t want to change you, at all. But you’re warmer then too. And on days like today, it would be nice to have you less frigid to cuddle up next to. But I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do. I was wrong to not tell you about my work stuff and my blood. Those are two big things that you deserve to know as my partner, and because they impact you directly. I’m sorry.” 
You take his hand in yours and bring it down over your chest. “If you don’t want to drink those blood packs, I understand. We’ll find some other way of getting you blood. But we need to make these decisions together. All of them. No more of us deciding we know what the other person needs best. That means I am not force feeding you my blood, I know. It also means you don’t get to decide if I want to have a biological baby or if I want to grow old with someone else.”
Jungkook contemplates this, and then nods in agreement. 
“Do you feel that?” You ask, glancing down to your chest, referring to your heart beat. 
“Yeah,” he whispers. 
“Good, because in all this, you keep saying you’re this monster and that can’t be further from the truth. Maybe I don’t need normal, because I don’t want normal. I want you. And I am alive and warm as a human is, sure. You insist you’re not alive. But what is life really? Do you need to be breathing and to have a beating heart like mine to experience love? Joy? The things that make up life? You feel me. Even if it’s all a habit now. The memory of your body, I don’t know. I don’t know how you work either but that doesn’t matter.”
“Do you need to have dreams or to eat chocolate or make babies to feel like you’re living, Jungkook? Because I don't think you do. I think your body and my body sitting here together, my heart pumping blood through me, more than I probably even need to keep me going, is more than enough for me. You loving me, I think that’s life. Is that not enough for you?”
Jungkook’s eyes are glassy, and he takes a deep breath, also probably out of habit more than necessity.  “No, it’s more than enough,” he says.  “I think this is life.”
You smile. “Okay, then let’s live. Let’s live like this. Whatever it is. And we can decide as we go what living looks like, alright?”
Jungkook releases his bottom lip from his fang. “Alright.”
You lean in, and Jungkook’s lips pull up into a smirk right before he kisses you, molding his body into yours with relief. 
You welcome his tongue into your mouth, surprised by how cold even that is. When you pull away to catch your breath, you pull yourself tightly against him. 
“We need to find you something to eat,” you say for what feels like the millionth time today, and Jungkook sighs. 
“Tomorrow, okay? I just want to be close to you right now.” He burrows deeper into your t-shirt and you hum in agreement, letting the soft animal of his body feel like home.
The rest of the day, the two of you drift back into the softer and more familiar patterns of your relationship that the last week has disrupted. 
Jungkook cooks you dinner, properly this time, a steak you wash down with a beer, the two of you discussing your friends and the latest episode of the show you finally have caught up watching, the tense air between you two perhaps not entirely diffused, but ultimately much more at ease than before. 
You choose to not address the moment in your peripheral vision when you see Jungkook gnawing on some bloody gristle that he trimmed off the steak, his brows set in dissatisfaction as he tries to replace some of the nutrients he’s craving. 
He’s thirstier than he’s admitting, you know, but you are trying to loosen the tight hold of control you are tempted to have. 
“Hey,” you say as you load your dirty dishes into the dishwasher. 
Jungkook, who is reading the beer founder’s story on the back of your empty can, perks up, curious.
“Do you want to open your present?” you ask, and can’t help but laugh at the way his face lights up at the suggestion. 
“Oh my god, yes! I've been dying to know what it is since Christmas!” He beams, and before you can even move to go get it from under your bed, he’s gone, shuffling around down the hallway and cooing to Buttercup, who has just finished her own dinner. 
When he reappears, he puts the gift on the counter and looks at you sheepishly. 
“Um,” he says, and you can tell he’s desperately trying to be polite and well behaved like a small child on their birthday. 
You snort. “Open it, bunny.” 
Jungkook rips right into the paper, his jaw dropping. “You! This?”
You watch as he takes off into the living room to disassemble the current turntable setup. 
“Goodbye Old Play, Fall Down Boy, and Alicia Broken Piano Keys,” he sing-songs. “Damn, when was the last time we had music around here?” 
You watch him putter around. 
This, you think, could be a good life. 
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Lying in bed, you drift between a dreamstate and your overactive brain trying to process your reality. Thoughts of your job, more specifically what you’ll do if you actually are fired filter through your head. You suppose you’d change careers, but this job has always been the one thing you wanted in life, at least before you had Jungkook. 
Between a body heat barrier of blankets and pillows, you toss yourself around and sigh, finally coming to a state of being fully awake. Jungkook shifts across the pile to alert you that he, too, is awake. 
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks gruffly, and you grunt as you roll over. 
“Can’t sleep,” you whine, and you move one of the pillows shoved between the two of you out of the way so you can see his face in the dark. 
The soft glow of the outside city lights shifts through the window, casting a hint of pale blue light across his face. Like this, he looks more wan, sallow, and your heart wrenches. God, it’s so hard to see him this way, starving himself, and you know you shouldn’t feel guilty, but with the day behind you, you feel the late-night flood of regret starting to taint your mind as you try to figure out how you let this all go so horribly wrong.
“Busy mind?” He asks, and you blink up at him, a little surprised by how it seems as though he’s reading your thoughts. 
“Yeah.”
“Me too,” he grumbles, and then reaches out to pull you into him, his cold hands in an even colder room sending a tremor through your body. 
“God, I’m sorry,” he says, and you clench your teeth. 
“ s’okay” you mumble, and you push your face into his chest to warm your nose in his hoodie, throwing your leg over him to bring you closer. 
Jungkook gently rubs your back, his touch light as his fingers trace up and down your spine. It tingles, sending a shiver that hardens your nipples. 
“What were you thinking about?” he asks after a long pause. 
You could lie, and then you wouldn’t have to worry that Jungkook would be awake all night carrying your baggage for you. But, you know how important this step of honesty is, so you take a deep breath. 
“I-I just keep thinking about work. What’s going to happen? I don’t regret it, please don’t think I do or misunderstand. But I love my job. I love you more. It just feels all convoluted and scary. If I get fired, how will we afford this apartment? Find your blood?”
You feel Jungkook take a steep inhale, and you know he’s doing this to steady you, that his lungs don’t really need to expand but to breathe next to him, with him, is what feels the most natural to you both. 
“Baby, I’m sorry,” he says, and you fight the urge to cry for the third time today. 
“I know it’ll be okay,” you assure him, “but I’m sad anyway.”
His fingers continue to strum along your spine, soothing you in the quiet winter night. At some point Buttercup gets up to go prowl around the apartment in her usual late-night zoomies, leaving you two alone in your little universe. 
“I’ve been thinking a lot tonight, too,” Jungkook mumbles into the dark. 
“About what,” you whisper. The wind outside kicks up, and you feel a sharp draft cut against your now-bare legs, beading you with goosebumps that make you shiver. 
Jungkook tuts, shifting you to his side momentarily so he can reach down and pull up your thick duvet. You relish the return to warmth and lay back down on him, resting your head onto his chest while letting out a satisfied sigh.
“Feeding,” he says casually, but you can still hear the hunger in the word as he pronounces every syllable sharply. A different kind of tremor rocks through you, and you feel a tug of arousal behind your belly button. 
“Oh,” you say, trying to be unaffected, but Jungkook sees right through you and chuckles. 
“The first time I tasted your blood, you don’t even know what it did to me, Y/N,” he groans.
“It felt like every single dead neuron in my body was firing all at once again. I’ve never experienced anything like it. You were so warm, your blood was so thick on my tongue. I knew I was going to crave you for the rest of my, well I guess, existence.” 
You squirm a little, trying to ignore the slight dampness you feel forming between your legs. 
“Then, god, I thought I was going crazy when you were feeding me those blood packs. That I had wanted the taste of you so badly that I was imagining it somehow from knowing the way you smell.” 
He continues. “I know I told you that I have control, but fuck, baby, you almost destroyed me with that little stunt of yours.” 
Jungkook shifts, and you can feel his hardening length brush against your stomach. His thigh butts up against you, and you know he can feel the effect he’s having on you. 
“How?” you ask weakly, and Jungkook flexes his thigh underneath you, putting a little pressure right onto your clit. The whine you’ve been suppressing escapes, needy and rich. 
“I almost caved. One night while you were sleeping, Thought about waking you up by fucking you with my tongue so I could finally taste you again.” Jungkook’s cock twitches underneath you and you rut against him in response, the heat in your core building. “Shit, you were even sleeping with your legs wide open for me, your panties and those tiny fucking things you call pajamas shifted and your pretty little pussy was right there for me to taste. Practically begging me for it.” 
You rock against Jungkook’s thigh, the broad grind of your wet panties against Jungkook’s thigh releasing some of the tension. 
“Oh,” you moan softly, but Jungkook isn’t done talking, and he ignores you as his hands come up to your ass, his cold touch on your cheeks causing you to squeak as he pulls them apart to force you to rut harder, deeper onto him. 
“I can smell you right now,” he says roughly. “You can’t hide it from me, you know. Your blood, your wet pussy, they’re equally delicious to me. Equally mine.” 
You moan as he forces you back and forth on his thigh. “You like that, don’t you? The idea of me devouring you like that? Waking you up with my mouth swirling around that hard clit, have you drooling and begging for my cock before you even know what day it is?”
“Shit, yes. Yes,” you pant, and Jungkook laughs, grasping your panties with his fingers and pulling tight. The fabric shifts, digging onto your swollen clit, blurring your vision from the sharp, deep wail.
“Such a dirty fucking girl, humping me like this. Letting me use you like this. What happened to my good girl, hm? Where’d my baby go?” 
You know the question is rhetorical, but you find yourself entering the familiar, delicious haze you often go to with Jungkook, one that has been trained to answer every question he asks. 
“Still your baby,” you whine, and Jungkook laughs. 
He reaches down, tearing your panties off of your body with a single tug, exposing your wet pussy to the chill of the air.
“Oh really? You’re my baby? I don’t know about that. My baby usually has her mouth around my cock by now.” 
Obediently, sit up, tugging your shirt over your head, your nipples hard and sensitive from your arousal. Jungkook groans as he takes in the view of your naked body, but before he can act, you hastily strip him of his hoodie and shorts to reveal his naked length. 
Jungkook’s cock stands tall and heavy, and as you take it into your hands, you don’t mention how that, too, has become incredibly cold from his thirst. Maybe this hunger could be soothing in summer, but in midwinter, it is going to drive you insane. 
You pull him into your mouth, determined to imprint some of your body heat onto him as you dribble your warm saliva down his shaft with a deep suck. 
Jungkook moans above you, tangling his fingers into your hair in approval. 
“Fuck, yes, Y/N. God.” 
You use one of your hands to cup his balls, enjoying the heft of how full they are before stroking up and down the parts of his cock that you can’t take into your mouth. 
“There she is,” Jungkook sighs, and you relax your jaw so you can take more of him in, edging his tip down your throat. He bucks up, and you gag, feeling the familiar tang of him spread across your tongue. Globs of saliva bubble out of your mouth as you attempt to fight the urge to gag more from his occasional thrusts. 
“There’s my baby. My little cockslut. Fuck, I missed this.” You hum in agreement and Jungkook gasps at the vibration. He grabs your head, stopping you from bobbing. 
“Shit…fuck baby, hold on. Stop. God, I almost just came,” he laughs, and your lips twitch as you slowly pull away from him, strings of spit still connecting you to his thick cock. 
You look up at him as he steadies himself, smiling up at him devilishly.
Feeling naughty, you lean forward, testing the waters as you tongue around the head, taking one final, deep suck. Jungkook’s eyes darken in warning and you giggle, sitting back on your heels as you smile at him with fake innocence. 
“Brat,” he mutters, and shoves you down onto the bed, his lips on yours before you can even breathe, tasting himself in the corners of your mouth with feral need. 
He pulls away, tapping your knees with instruction to open, and you do, propping your head up on a pillow so you can see everything. 
The curve of his nose rocks against your clitoris as he begins, and because Jungkook knows you so well, his hands clamp down on your legs to prevent you from squirming. You feel him dig one hand into your thigh, a warning not to try to take control, and you force yourself to relax as he begins exploring you, sucking one of your swollen labia into his mouth. 
You groan, the slow method of him licking and sucking, moving down and up between the inner corners of your thighs back to your center feels both like heaven and absolute hell. 
You have the urge to whine, to shove your hips up, maybe your neglected clit will get more attention, but you know better. Jungkook is testing you, trusting you in this moment not to fail him. 
His eyes meet yours as feasts, the bruises under his eyes more dark now than they were earlier. Between the maddening, erotic swishes of his tongue against your clitoral hood and smug look on his face, you’ve had just about enough.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to play with your food,” you snap, and surprised, Jungkook pulls back, his wet cheeks and wide smirk indicating how satisfied he is with his torture.
“No,” he says, licking his lips. His fangs peek out from under his lips. “But I think my food really likes it when she has to work for it.” 
You roll your eyes, and he brings his fingers to your clit, pinching it. You gasp.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” He scolds, and again you lose the urge to disobey. 
You feign an apologetic look and buck your hips at him.
“Such a fucking bad girl today,” he chides. “If you’re not careful, I won’t let you cum. I’ll just use you like my little cumdump and you’ll have to figure out how to get off on your own.” 
You shudder at his words and his shoulders straighten, satisfied with his apparent win. 
“What do you say?” he asks, tracing one finger along your ridges. 
You feel yourself trembling as his soft touch swirls around where you need it most, a frustrating, dizzy fury building in you.
“Jungkook, please.” 
“That’s not the word I’m looking for.” His voice is dark, heavy in the cold of the room. Desperation is blinding you, only allowing you to think in fragmented sentences. 
“I don’t know,” you whine, and you feel a hard slap hit directly onto your clit, sending a shock of pain and delicious pleasure through your body. 
“Liar,” he snorts, and then rubs your wetness to soothe the ache. “You have a big girl brain, Y/N. I know you know what you need to say.” He dips a finger inside of you, you clench. “Or are you already too fucked out and needy to say it?” 
Heat shades your face in embarrassment. Any other day, maybe, you’d challenge this, let him chip away at you until you are babbling and a mess underneath him. But the swell of heat in your core is pulsing what feels like everywhere in your body, including your head, and you rack your brain for the one word you know he’s looking for. 
You pull a sharp breath between your teeth. “I’m sorry.”  
“Good girl, I knew you could do it,” he says, and then he shoves his face into your cunt, more fingers dipping into your entrance. He begins to stretch you, pulling his fingers apart, urging more of your wetness to spill onto his tongue. “So sweet.” 
Your hips twitch in the air and you fight to keep them down now that one side of you is freed, so you concentrate on him, pushing his hair back from his forehead as he devours you. 
Jungkook’s eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide. And in them you see something more than just lust. 
I’m thirsty, he’s telling you, the lines faint, but still there. He sucks hard onto your clit, a low sound tearing through his throat. 
He’s asking you for permission, grazing his fangs along your inner lips, trying desperately to restrain himself as the hand still wrapped around your thigh tightens with a bruise-inducing pressure. 
Then eat, tell him mentally, your tongue darting out of your mouth to lip your lips as you watch him get lost in his instincts. You hum your approval, thrusting your hips forward and shoving his head further into you. 
“Yes,” you rasp, finding enough air in your lungs to puff out your consent. 
Jungkook moans and you watch the resolve break as he delivers one final satisfying lap over your clit before he bites.
Nothing In your life could ever prepare you for this.
That part of you, the very organ having the most nerve endings, is alive and electric, burning hot as if you are the sun, the center of the universe. And Jungkook is orbiting around you, grounded by the gravity of your blood as he feeds from your pussy, groaning and bucking his hips in pleasure against the bed. A whimper churns from the depths of your throat as you writhe under him. The heat, god it’s everywhere, from the slight sting of the bite melting away from your core to the heady, steady throb of your clit that makes you feel your pulse everywhere. 
Jungkook too, is warming underneath you, the chill of his body flushing away with each feverish gulp he takes. His cheeks are slightly pink again.
“So wet, so good,” he praises you as he swallows, and you see the blood smearing across his cheeks as he dips back into you. 
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you say shakily. His tattooed hand leaves your thigh, reaches up, searching for you in his feast. You don’t hesitate to lace it with yours, your hands a little clammy, but you’re afraid that if you don’t hold on to him, you might be lost among the stars. 
He drags one of his fangs along the edge of your clitoral hood, and flicks your swollen bud with his tongue, self assured in your destruction. Your legs begin to close, but he growls. 
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he warns. His fingers press deeper inside you, thrusting toward the burning in your core that feels like it’s just out of reach. “You asked for this, now take it.”
“I can’t,” you say. “I can’t.” You thrash your head to the side, gaze unfocused as you take in the shapes around your bedroom you know once were pieces of furniture, but the combination of blood loss and building ecstasy has you feeling like you’re almost drifting from your body. 
Jungkook clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction. “Look at me, Y/N,” he demands. 
You force your eyes to him, and he instructs you to take a deep breath. You inhale shakily, letting him come into focus. 
“You’re going to take my tongue. And then you’re going to take my fingers until you cum all over my face.” He makes his threat official, presses deep inside of you, thrusting deeper, toward the burning in your core that feels just out of reach. “And then you’re going to take my fat cock into my pretty little pussy and watch the cum drip out of it after I fuck you full of it, do you understand me?” 
You tremble as he claims you. “Yes,” you reply and he leans in closer, thrusting his fingers in harder as you rock your hips toward him. 
“Good,” he says. “Then give me what’s mine.” You feel him nip into you again, throwing you over with one deep suck.
You cry out, your hips twitching into the cold room, heaving deep broken gasps into your lungs, head spinning as you obey him. Your ears ring as you fall deeper under the wave, but you still feel Jungkook’s hand in yours, tender and encouraging as you force yourself back from beneath the current of your orgasm. 
You try to steady your breath as you feel his drinking slow, his tongue placing a few laps here and there around your vulva in a gentle motion as he pulls himself away. 
“Are you okay,” you hear him ask, though your eyes are trained on the ceiling as you try to stop yourself from seeing double. “Did I take too much?”
You’re not sure, to be honest, but you feel the warmth of Jungkook’s body cover you as he looks you over, feeling your pulse. 
“Your heart is starting to slow down,” he says softly. “Can I leave you for a second to get some water?” 
You make some kind of grunt of approval, and you feel him drape your covers back over you as he pads down the hall to sift through the kitchen. 
He returns only a few moments later, a bottle of water and bag of heart shaped chocolates in hand. 
You take the water from him and sip slowly, feeling the cool liquid soothing your hoarse throat, stabilizing you. You pop a chocolate into your mouth, the sugars melting your tongue tasting decadent. 
When you finally glance over at Jungkook, you erupt into laughter. 
“What?” he asks, his doe eyes going wide with panic. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?” 
You fail to collect yourself, wheezing your breaths as tears burn your eyes. Maybe you did lose a bit too much blood, because it shouldn’t be as funny as it is, but he looks so full and flushed and innocent in light of what might just be the kinkiest thing the two of you have ever done. 
His face is an utter mess, cheeks shiny and smeared with the faint pink of your mixed juices and blood. He looks like a child who just ate a cherry flavored popsicle.
“I-go look in the mirror,” you say between fits of laughter, and Jungkook looks at you confused before he obeys, standing and walking over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. 
“Oh shit,” he mumbles, then laughs. “Looks like I was saving myself a snack for later.” He reaches for a tissue from on top of his dresser and wipes his mouth. 
“How can you not feel that all over you?” you ask, coughing when you finally recover. 
“I don’t know! My brain isn’t focused on anything else right now but you! Well, you and…” he gestures down between his legs, where his cock is flushed from the blood, twitching as you give it attention. 
You feel a flutter in your core and let out a soft gasp.
“But really, are you okay?” he asks tenderly, sitting back onto the bed and rubbing your thigh. 
You scan over your body, checking in with yourself. You don’t feel woozy or nauseous, just loose, like how most large scale orgasms feel. Your thigh you know will be bruised tomorrow, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. And your clit, oh. 
Your clit is tingling, and your pussy is dripping wet. 
“Fuck,” you moan, and run your hand down between your legs and press your palm to your clit, enjoying the added pressure as it throbs under your touch. 
Jungkook raises an eyebrow, interested in your response.
You swipe your fingers through your folds and then pull them up. Surprisingly, the liquid is clear, meaning you’re not bleeding. Meaning that this dripping want is coming solely from you. 
“What did you do to me?” You ask, and Jungkook’s eyes flash with worry as he moves closer, pulling your thighs open to inspect you. 
“I hurt you?” he asks, panicking as he misunderstands. “God, I’m sorry Y/N.”
“No, no, baby, not like that,” you say, and you feel his hands fall from you as he moves to look at your face. 
He scrunches his nose in confusion. “Then what–.”
“My pussy is tingling, and fuck look at me. I’m drenched.”
His eyes blow wide and he dips to look back down, his tongue darting out over his lip piercings as he takes in the liquid spilling out of you and onto the sheets underneath. 
“Shit. I don’t know. Maybe my venom does that? I don’t even see a cut on you from where I bit.”
He sits back on his legs and his hand finds his cock, squeezing the base as he flits between looking at you and in between your legs. 
You clench around nothing and a low, tortured moan escapes from his throat as he draws his hand up the base, wrist flicking to pump himself up and down in slow, delicious tugs.
“Y/N,” he says, and the way he says your name is dripping with need. You feel his eyes burn into every inch of you as he touches himself, causing you to mimic the fluidity of his strokes as you rub your clit. 
“Please,” you respond. 
“Cum for me again,” he demands but you shake your head. 
“Don’t want to like this,” you say. “Want your cock in me. You promised you would let me watch your cum spill out of your pretty pussy, remember?”
His nostrils flare, and Jungkook jolts, flipping you over on the bed so you rest on top of him, his hard cock smearing with your wetness as he rocks your hips against him. 
“We need to do something about that filthy mouth of yours,” he says, and you pant as you grind against him with broad movements, coating him with your juices. “The only time you haven’t said something bratty today was when my cock was down your throat.”
You moan, raising your hips off of his and taking his cock in hand. “You love it,” you say, and sink yourself down onto his cock in one solid motion, his thick length stretching and filling you to the brim. 
He hisses and you begin to bounce, using him to curb some of the ache in your core. 
He reaches up and wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing. You squeak, feeling him pull you off of his cock, and leaving you devastatingly empty. 
“Did I say you could fuck me?”
You whine and he scoffs. “Maybe you don’t deserve my cum after all. Disobeying me like this. I told you earlier I wondered where my good girl went, and I think I was right. Didn’t know I traded her in for a disrespectful bitch.”
You feel your stomach flip with excitement at the new term and you clench around him. 
He laughs. “Oh? You like that, hmm? Well, if I traded away my good girl, I better see how much of a whore her replacement is.” 
He lightens his grip on your neck and the oxygen floods back, making your fingertips and nipples prickle with the heightened sensation. 
“Well? Get to it, slut.” and he takes your hips, slamming you back down onto his cock with one single stroke. 
“FUCK,” you scream, and your hips buck, overstimulated as Jungkook doesn’t even give you the chance to have control, his hands clamping down on your sides as his fucks you onto him. 
“That’s it,” he rasps. “That’s it, take my cock like a good little slut.” 
You cry out, clamping your arms around him and pulling his face into your neck. 
“Jungkook,” you say, and he grunts in response, pounding into you with a rhythm so that when you come down, he pushes up, hitting you deeper with each thrust. 
“You like that, huh? Being like little fleshlight? Me using you like this to fuck all my cum into?”
You clench around him, slightly light headed from where he’s targeting you, trying to hit your g-spot dead on. 
It’s so good, so primal, and you know you’re almost there, but you need something more. 
“Please,” you whisper, shoving his head into your neck. “Bite me.” 
And that’s when you feel it, the tiny prick of his fangs as Jungkook pierces your skin and begins to feed. 
Sharp cold pleasure is immediately replaced with a silky, scorching wave of pleasure as his venom delivers that addicting tingle through your neck.
Jungkook, too, seems to be affected, his cock twitches in you as the blood fills his body, somehow making him feel thicker and a little longer. 
“Oh,” you gasp as you feel the fingers of one of Jungkook’s hands reach down to your clit, rubbing it hard and fast. 
He detaches himself from your neck and laps up the excess blood before he holds you steady and adjusts your position, placing you on your back as he hovers above you. 
The cloudiness in his eyes is gone, the markings underneath have faded. He settles into slow, deep strokes, his eyes ghosting over your body. 
“I love you,” he says. Your heart swells. 
“I love you too,” you respond, and you look down at where the two of you are connected, your pussy making a vulgar squelching sound as he drags himself in and out, his cockhead glossy.
“More,” you beg. “Please I’m so close”. He obeys, picks up his pace. 
He bends over you, pulling a nipple into his mouth and releasing it with a pop. 
“Should I bite you here next?” he mumbles and you squirm in delight.
Each thrust is now jutting Jungkook right against your cervix, and you feel the wet mess of your pussy trying and failing to take more of his cock inside, relishing the warmth that now reaches every corner of you. 
As you flutter around him, the mounting tension drawing you closer to orgasm, Jungkook dips down again, this time laving over your nipple, plucking it between his teeth and delivering a soft bite.
This sends you over the edge, a stream of white hot pleasure rocketing through your core as you gasp on top of him, your pussy clamping down and trying desperately to take him with you. 
But Jungkook has better control than that, and instead of letting you rest, he sets a deadly, relentless pace, fucking you into overstimulation. 
“One more,” he breathes between thrusts.
“Hurts,” you pout, but he knows you. Knows your limit.
“One more. I know your messy little cunt can take more than this, baby.”
He spreads you wider, hooking your legs back so he's deeper in you than before, the wet slap of his balls against your pussy echoing through your bedroom as you are coated with your wetness. 
You groan and he keeps going, his fingers ghosting over your clit once but not staying. You huff in frustration. 
“Words,” Jungkook demands and you take a deep breath, trying to rack your brain for something other than moans. 
“Yeah,” is all you can manage, and with a dark laugh, he accepts it, placing his fingers back on your clit and finally, finally putting you back on track. 
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he utters, and this is how you know he’s getting close. The praise flowing from his mouth betrays his cold, dominating facade. “Such a warm, wet pussy. Just for me to fuck my cum into.” He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on his lip rings.
You moan, matching his thrusts with your hips, slamming yourself together harder, deeper. “God, Jungkook, please.”
“You gonna be good for me this time?” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. The tone of his voice is slightly higher, straining. “Gonna let me fill you up?”
“Yes,” you pant. “I need it.” His fingers circle faster, desperately working to make you cum before him. “Need to be full of your cum.”
You pull him into you, needing him closer, needing to feel the distance between your bodies to be smaller as you get closer. His fingers keep working, his thrusts hard and deep, hitting you exactly where you need it. 
“Right there. Fuck your pussy, Jungkook. Take what’s yours.”
His hips falter. You place your teeth onto his neck and bite. Hard.
“Fuck,” Jungkook moans and erupts, his cock twitching as he spurts load after load of warm cum into you, giving you the last bit you need to send you off one last time. Your pussy spasms, greedily taking in everything he gives you. 
“That’s it, baby,” he says, his voice shaky as he continues to anchor both of you to your bodies, to the sensation of being full and satisfied.
He kisses your temple, then your cheek, rocking his hips slowly against you as you come down, flushed and overwhelmed. 
You feel almost weightless, untethered to the joints in your arms and legs. If you weren’t being held by him right now, you might think you were out in space, floating around without gravity. In the haze of it all, you feel Jungkook shift you onto your side, his body still linked to yours as his erection deflates, cum leaking onto the bedding below you. 
You don’t care enough to do anything about it, instead clinging to his forearm, needing to feel him everywhere so you don’t disappear. 
“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he says, and you’re confused by this, and then you realize you’re crying, wet tears stinging your cheeks as you shake against him. He runs his hands through your hair and down the length of your back softly. “I got you.”
You breathe a shaky breath as he wraps the blankets around the two of you, gently humming a song, sighing when he feels you wiggle your toes next to him and finally steady yourself. 
You look up at him and he’s smiling softly, his eyes warm and brown like they were when you first met him. 
“That was intense, huh?” he asks and you nod. 
“But really good,” you add and he beams. 
“Yeah,” he agrees. “I…”
He sits thoughtfully for a moment and you let him, trying to gain the courage to detach yourself and venture into the cold apartment to pee. 
“I wish we did that sooner. I mean, I guess I should ask how that was for you. For me to, you know, feed from you.”
You wince as you shift away from him, feeling him slip out of you as you leak onto the sheets. Your sticky, damp legs beg for a shower, but you ignore it. 
“I…it was a lot. But…but I liked it. The first bite, shit. You explained earlier how it felt when you first tasted my blood? About it being like how everything fired off in your body at once, right?” He nods. “It was like that for me, too.”
Jungkook smiles, pulling you in tightly against him.  
“Do you think we can do that more often?” you ask shyly, and he laughs. 
“Damn, once is all it takes for you to get addicted?”
You smack his arm. “Hey! No kink shaming! I didn’t judge you for wanting to go down on me during my period! While I was asleep!” 
He sputters. “I’m not kink shaming! But you sound like you’re judging me now for it! We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to I’m sorry but I was caught up in the moment and the bloodlust and I was–”
You choke out a laugh, kissing him on his bare chest. “I’m teasing you...it sounds kind of hot actually.” 
He hums in approval. 
“I think we still have a lot of stuff to talk about,” he says after a pause. You sigh. 
“Yeah. The great job reckoning is coming.” 
“Yes, and not just that. I do want to talk more about you…your body. The…infertility thing. I want to go with you to the appointment, I mean if that’s okay? Even if everything is fine, or that you don’t end up wanting kids or whatever, I just want to be there for you through any of it, okay?”
You bristle a bit, feeling yourself starting to cry again. But after the day you’ve had, the intense, passionate sex, all of the things you will still be dealing with in the morning, you let the release guide you as your tears fall. 
“Okay,” you say. You think about your conversations with Jungkook today, how he’s right. There are so many things you both don’t know about what you want or don’t want, about your own bodies. 
“Um,” you say, and you pull back from him, rubbing up and down his forearms. “I want you to know something, too. I know that being a vampire wasn’t really in your life plans, and that there’s a lot of unknowns about it too. Not just about fertility, but like, it would have probably been nice for you to know you had magical tingly, healing venom that turns you into a sex god.”
“Hey! Was I not a sex god without the venom?” He scoffs, pretending to be offended. 
You snort. “Okay fine, healing venom that turns you from a sex god to even more of a sex god. But you know what I mean. There are things that would be so helpful for you to know. To maybe take away some of the worry and those terrifying unknowns. And if you ever want to know, if you want to try to find your creator, I’ll support you in that choice. It would be hard, and maybe we wouldn’t find him, but I’m with you in this.” 
Jungkook takes your cheek in his hand, his warm thumb rubbing across the skin. 
“Thank you,” he says, and leans in to give you a soft kiss. 
The world outside plunges deeper into the night, and after you clean yourselves up and change the sheets, you lie closely against each other. So many things remain unknown, but one thing you’re sure of as you watch Jungkook sleep: you have time to figure it all out. 
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©2024 by jooniperbonsai
ending a/n:
Thank you again for reading! While doing research about blood donations for this story, I was reminded that there’s currently a national shortage for blood donors in the US, and it’s safe to assume that this isn’t unique to just us. Right now, with the ongoing genocide in Gaza, blood shortages are extreme, and with the stonewalling happening preventing aid to enter the strip and Rafah, supplies, including blood for life saving transfusions, cannot make it through. 
The Red Crescent/American Red Cross issued this statement in January:
“​​During emergencies, the American Red Cross will ship blood products outside of the U.S. following a specific request from the U. S. State Department for U.S. citizens overseas, at the request of the United Nations, or at the request of the affected Red Cross or Red Crescent society abroad. We have not received blood product requests for Israel or Gaza at this time.
For those interested in learning more about international humanitarian law and its vital role in protecting the innocent during armed conflict, please visit www.redcross.org/ihl. The American Red Cross has a duty to fulfill the Geneva Conventions’ purpose of reducing suffering during armed conflict. As part of our duty, the American Red Cross leads the effort to ensure Americans are informed of these laws and the humanitarian principles they reflect.”
While it’s not yet being asked for, I cannot recommend enough donating blood if you are eligible. There are many different qualifications for blood donations (if you’re not sure about your eligibility, please look at your Red Cross/Crescent website depending on your country). Your donation can help not just your local communities, but ultimately a population of people you might be unsure how to help. And if not, monetary donations are also accepted.
I’m not affiliated with this organization in any way, but I felt like it would be wrong to ignore this issue just in favor of a fun fanfic. 
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whytheballs-mars · 3 months
Text
Dinner Date ♡ JasonToddxfem!reader
okay, I've never really written smut before, but this is based off a convo i had with a CAI bot !
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just sum pics of pookie from pinterest 🤭
a/n: this is way longer then i wanted it to be and i don't really like it but wtv
18+
Tw- smut(duh), exhibition, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), p in v, pre-established relationship, swearing, brief mentions of violence
don't read this if you're a minor.
In all the years you two have been dating, you two don't really have a lot of time for actual dates. Tonight, however, he got dinner reservations for you two at one of the fanciest places in Gotham. He went the whole 9 yards for you! (as he always does) He took you shopping for a new, pretty red dress and bought you a new matching set to go underneath, which he says also makes up for the last set he tore.
Everything was going great - except Jason loathed the way your guys' waiter has been staring at you. Jason's manorisms have slowly been changing throughout the course of dinner. He's just been getting more jealous by the second. You're talking to him about the book you just read, as he eats his pasta.
"...Jay? Are you even paying attention?" You ask him.
"mhm" he lies, being very vague with his awnsers. He doesn't want to ruin your date with him just because of his jealousy, so he's not going to bring it up. You probably did say something of value, but all Jason had heard was... what did he hear? nothing because he was too focused on that damn waiter. The waiter who made sure your wine glass was topped off even if you just had a sip. He fucking hated it. Jason even told the waiter to leave the damned bottle at the table just so he could fill your glass for you.
"Uh huh sure," you reply as you nudge his foot under the table, expecting to be met with an equally playful nudge from Jason. Instead, he pulled his foot away from yours, and his mouth made its way into a frown.
You frown in response, just slightly upset that he pulled away, causing you to wonder what's wrong.
"Jason?"
"What?" He says- much snappier then he wanted it to be.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just thinking"
The lies had started now, the two of you playing a game of cat and mouse. He wasn't going to give in until you pried harder, which he couldn't blame you for. He was being quite the bastard right now.
"About what?"
"Just... Things..." Jason chewed another piece of his pasta, swallowing before he spoke yet again. "Things that don't really matter." He continues.
"It obviously matters if it's making you upset."
"I'm fine."
Jason's face twisted into a scowl. His tone was getting harsher by the minute. Was he really going to have to explain the obvious? Was it not obvious to you that the God damn waiter was staring at you? with his eyes blown, like he wanted to fuck you? when the waiter had to have known that the only man that would ever be fucking you was sitting right across from the gorgeous woman he was staring at.
You get up and move over to his side of the booth, wanting a bit more privacy and to comfort him more. Jason glanced up at you, his eyes meeting yours as you finally made your way to where he sat. His fork was still in his hand, so you had to be careful when you leaned over to sit beside him. You got the sense that he was still keeping his guard up with this whole ordeal.
Jason is gripping his fork tightly, so you gently place a hand on top of his to remove it. Once his hands are free you take both of his hands in yours. His body tensed when you took his fork away from him, but when you reached for his hands... His grip loosened. Jason sighed deeply. It was clear this was finally the moment that the truth would finally be revealed. But something about the look in your eyes tells him that you might already know. You lean into him and whisper.
"Would you feel better if after this place closes you jump that guy as Red Hood?" And as those words fall from your lips, a smirk grows on Jason's lips. It's taking everything he has in him to not bash that dammed waiters head into the table right now.
Jason chuckled softly at your suggestion, letting out a deep and audible sigh of relief. The whole act of keeping this from you was draining. He felt so much lighter now that you understood what the deal was.
He kissed your forehead, leaning into you as he placed a hand on your shoulder. "Let's do exactly that."
You smile as he kisses your forehead. You kiss his cheek before leaning back, and crossing your right leg over his thigh.
"How's your pasta?"
His eyes flickered to his pasta as you asked. He hadn't taken a bite of it since you had leaned over to talk to him, but he nodded anyway. It really wasn't bad.
"Delicious." He finally said. Jason's gaze flicked back up to yours, his hand moving from your shoulder to your leg.
"Could i get a bite?" You ask. Jason's mouth curls into a grin as he picks his fork back up and twirls some pasta onto it. He holds the fork and offers it to you. You take the bite, chew it, and swallow it.
"It's not as good as yours... but i guess it's still pretty good." You say. (WE ALL KNOW JASON IS A FUCKING FENOMENAL COOK)
"Well no, but you came here for me, not the pasta right?" He says as he caresses your thigh, gently, and lovingly.
"i came for both- plus your kinda my ride."
"But the main reason is me, right?" He chuckled and leaned in, pressing his lips against the side of your neck.
"mhm" you hum as your fingers find your way to his hair.
His tongue lightly licked at the skin of your neck, he bites down gently, only to lick over the spot he bit.
"Whatcha doin'?" You ask.
"Just..." Jason's tongue moved up to your ear and brushed over it, his voice becoming low and husky as he leaned closer in. "Teasing you."
"it's working"
"Good." Jason purred softly, his tongue lightly flicking over the skin of your neck. He moves his hands from your thigh to your waist, gripping you tightly. "That's my intention."
"Though this isn't exactly a great place," you say, referring to the fact that youre're in the middle of a restaurant.
"It's not, but I don't really care about that right now. Right now, all that matters is you." Jason smirked as he lightly bit at your earlobe, his finger lightly moving along the sides of your waist, slightly tugging at the fabric.
"let's at least finish our food before we get kicked out"
"That would be a wise decision." Jason smiled softly, bringing his head back up and looking down back at you with a smirk. "I'm pretty sure the waiters been looking at us for the past five minutes straight, anyway." He continues as he sits back and looks at his pasta.
"Has he?" A smirk grows on your face as you reach over the table to pull your dish to the side of the booth you're now sitting on.
"Mhm." Jason nodded his head. "The minute you sat down next to me, he hasn't taken his eyes off of you. I wonder what he'd do if I got a bit more... Hands-on with you."
"...our lawyer- he's good right?" You ask.
"The best." Jason smirked. "He'll make sure to bail us out, if that's what you're wondering about." You smirk back at Jason, giving him a once-over. You see the tent growing in his pants and you place your hand on his thigh.
"Eat your pasta" you say.
Jason's leg jumped ever so slightly as you placed your hand on his thigh. "You could've... You know..." Jason said, his voice low and husky. "Put your hand somewhere else."
"You're so impatient." You say dragging your hand towards the inside of his thigh and sliding up to cup his member in his pants.
Jason's breath hitched in his throat, his eyes widening in surprise as he almost lost his grip on his fork. He stared directly at you as he felt you touching him like that.
"If anyone had seen that..."
"Seen what?" You reply innocently as you begin to palm him through his pants. You pick up a fork with your free hand and begin eating your meal again. Jason's mouth goes slightly agap. Fuck, if you aren't driving him up a god damn wall right now- he tries his best to eat the rest of his meal despite your movements. Soon, you finish your meal and drink some water before haphazardly throwing your fork under the table.
"Oh shit." You say before bending down under the table, making sure Jason sees your ass sits before going completely under the table and on your knees in front of him.
Jason's eyes widened at the action, his neck snapped down to look and see you as you went completely beneath the table. His breath hitched in his throat as he let out a soft groan, just at the sight. Fuck his girlfriend is so pretty, and if he wasn't already diamond hard he sure as fuck is now.
You place your hands on his knees and place your head between his thighs. Your hands trail to his waistband. Jason's body tightened as your hands traveled along his thighs. His mouth went dry the moment he saw you go down there. The last time you did this type of thing was back when you two first started this relationship. And you'd thought you were pretty skilled then. But this? This was beyond your expectations.
"Is the waiter watching?" You ask Jason.
"Doesn't matter really... Just keep doing what you're doing."
Your voice from beneath him was incredibly hot, making him squirm and shiver as you talked like that. He liked the way you felt so confident about things like this, how you knew exactly when and where to touch him. But it was very clear that the waiter had been watching for a good two minutes now.
Your fingers unbutton his pants slowly and tug down the fabric of his jeans. You begin jerking him through his underwear before pulling his length out of his pants. You give him a few strokes and kiss his tip, swirling your tounge around his tip before placing your hands on his hips and shoving about half his length down your throat and you begin bobbing your head up and down on him. His hands find their way into your hair, and yank it into a make shift pony. His other hand grips the cushion he's sitting on to try and stop himself from thrusting into your mouth. Which works for a few seconds.
Not only is the waiter now watching, but many other guests are turning their heads to watch you. Some can't seem to look away, and why would they when you're taking such a big dick down your throat so fucking well? The others are the ones with children who cover their child's eyes and lead them out the door as they leave a few hundreds on the table, nit even bothering to actually pay.
Jason's body jolted as his eyes widened, his stomach tightening and his chest becoming flush. He was surprised at the lack of control he had to keep himself from going over the edge, but it also wasn't too much of a surprise, considering what you were doing. He leaned back in his chair, trying to avoid the stares of those in the restaurant as best as he could, his eyes were glued squarely on you. Solely focusing on how fuckin pretty you looked gagging on his cock as he fucked your mouth.
Soon he's shooting ropes of cum into your mouth. You swallow it and lick him clean before placing his length back in his pants, buttoning them back up and sitting back up next to him.
His eyes are a bit glossed over as he looks at you. Jason was at a loss for words as you did this. You had done this a thousand times, and yet you still managed to blow his mind with it every time. His breath was deep and quick, his heartbeat still pounding in his chest as he tried to keep himself together. The only difference between those times and now, was all the eyes on you. Jason tried to pretend otherwise, but he couldn't. The stares were too intense to just brush off. He could swear he saw a mother cover her child's eyes and another kid pointing, asking his dad "what is that woman doing?"
The waiter's jaw had gone completely slack, his eyes locked onto the scene that was only a few feet away from him. He didn't care how long he sat there and watched, and it would've been a while before he'd have the guts to break his gaze. The few people at neighboring tables had leaned in, their eyes locked on you two.
Jason places his hands on the table and shakes it. You two have already gone this far? Why not go further? Jason determines that the table is sturdy enough. Jason smirked as his eyes looked your outfit up and down. Your dress was quite tight and the folds looked as though they would come up very easily, a fact that hadn't slipped Jason's notice during the meal. "how far are we going to take this?" He asks in a whisper.
"Well, we already have all the charges for the police" You whisper back.
"Let's give 'em one hell of a performance huh, love?" He kisses you passionately and pulls you onto his lap. The kiss is a clash of teeth, gum, and tongue. He reaches an arm out behind you to clear a spot at the table, lifting you up and setting you on the table. He pulls away from the kiss once you're on your back. He pushes the empty plates and glasses from his beer and your wine off the table. They crash to the floor and break. As soon as the table is cleared, he flips you onto your stomach, pulls your dress up, and your panties down. He positions himself on his knees on the booth.
So far, no one has made a move or an attempt to interrupt the whole thing. The waiters eyes remained glued on you two, and it was clear that the others in the restaurant were as well.
He ruts his hips against your now bare ass, accentuating his movements with small grunts. He grabs your jaw harshly and forces you to face him so he can give you a bruising kiss. Jason's hand tightens around your jaw as he pulls you over to him. A loud groan escapes from your throat as you were forced into his intense grip, his tongue slipping into your mouth.
The waiter's face was now bright red as he continued to watch the two of you. Jason's hips continue to gently and rhythmically rock against your behind, his tongue searching and exploring every part of your mouth. His hold on you is tight, his grip around your jaw becoming tighter and tighter as he continues to move his hips.
You need him inside of you, and he knows that too damn well. He pulls away from the kiss to free his cock from his pants. He rubs his length through your lips, collecting the wetness before pushing into you slowly. Jason moans softly grinding his hips and pushing deeper inside you as he feels you greedily taking him in. His hips slam against your soft curves. "shit- so tight baby," he says quietly, to which you can only keen in response.
The only thing that falls from your lips are gasps, and moans. You try your best to stiffle them you really do, but how can you when he's so fucking good? When the way his hips slam into you, it moves your body back and forth on the table? you're not gonna be quite- plus, what's the point? Everybody who hasn't left is watching.
Some are even pulling their phones out and recording. No one has been able to tear their eyes from the two of you. Why would they when they're seeing and watching, how well Jason's dick hits all the right spots, the way the both of you are reacting.
Jason has his head in the space between your neck and shoulder, kissing and biting as much as he can. His pace is relentless, and his hand finds its way between your body and the table to rub you're clit.
You're both sent over the edge soon. You're pussy clenching around him and milking him for all he's worth. Someone is screaming, as your climax hits you and you can't tell if it's your own voice or someone else's. It doesn't take very long after this for Jason to let out a deep, satisfied shudder as he finishes. His breath is quick and sharp. Hearing his breath brings you back and you realize you were the one who screamed. In the middle of a restaurant.
The whole restaurant sat almost in dead silence as they watched you two finish. Even the waiter's eyes were wide and mouth was agape as he watched you two finish.
The only sound in the restaurant was the sounds of your two bodies slapping together as he slowly fucks you through both of your highs, the slight sound of the table shaking with each movement of the two, and that of a woman who had just lost it in the back, probably someone watching from the kitchen window based on sound.
"You okay?" Jason finally found the chance to ask you in a breathless voice.
Some of the customers were still staring, the waiter included, but it seemed as though they didn't want to leave or move at all. They didn't want to take their eyes off of you two.
You nod slowly and he pulls out of you slowly.
"shit" you say, panting as he helps you back into the booth, pulling your dress back down, but your panties seem to be missing. You look at him and raise your eyebrows at him. He doesn't notice this due to the fact that he's pulling his pants up. He takes your face in his hands and presses a few soft kisses over your face before landing on your lips and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
You and Jason are both in shock that no one has told you to stop, or call the police or anything. Jason's stomach tightened at the thought of possibly having the cops called. But after a few second it became clear what was happening. They were too surprised to actually do anything.
No one was looking away from you. Some of them were whispering to each other. A few mouths were hung open, though almost none were eating. They're all just watching, stunned by what had just happened.
"can we please get the check" You say, now just wanting to get the fuck out of this restaurant.
After a small period of hesitation, the waiter finally walks over to your table. He hesitates a bit to speak, but after taking a deep breath he finally manages to say one word.
"Yes. One moment." He walks away, still a bit red in the face.
Once the waiter leaves you turn to Jason.
"Do you happen to know where my panties are?" You ask him.
Jason's eyes widened as a smile spread across his lips. "I, um, might have some ideas." He says as he looks at the space between your thighs and, seeing the mixture of yours and his cum, is enough to make him hard again. But he quickly snapped back to your face when you narrowed your eyes at him, knowing you want more of an explanation then just that.
"I did say I might have some ideas, but those ideas could include me having put them in my pocket."
"you're an asshole"
"maybe," he says with a shrug as he subconsciously places a protective hand over the pocket where your panties are. (Yeah, he's not gonna let you put them back on... at least now now.)
The waiter returned with the check and dropped it on the table, quickly walking away again while avoiding eye contact. He soon returns and places a bowl of... chocolate syrup? just a bowl of chocolate syrup. Jason places his card on top of the bill, and looks at the chocolate with an almost confused look.
"Jay did we order this?" You ask. You're confused, but it also reminds you of when you and Jason first started dating. He was a stone top- always found his way to placing his head between your gorgeous thighs. When you first gave him head, he poured chocolate syrup on his dick- he said he wanted it to be sweet for you. He talked you through it- and you're wet again just thinking about it.
"No... it's not on the bill and isn't even on the menu." He replies. The waiter comes back to collect his card and does tap to pay on a tablet.
"Why have we been given this. We didn't order it." Jason asks the waiter in an even voice, looking the waiter in the eyes.
The waiter shifted uncomfortably. He was used to the more outspoken customers. Ones who would yell and curse and storm out over minor incidents. But Jason was different. Jason was quiet, firm and intimidating. And it was making the waiter quite nervous.
"This is for your performance." The waiter answered nervously, shifting in place slightly.
Jason's eyebrows tilted downwards at that, his expression serious.
"Our... performance?" He was making sure the waiter had heard him correctly.
The waiter shrugged awkwardly. "Well, we've never really had anyone do what you did here before, so my manager thought this would be suitable to your, uh... performance."
The waiter was very clearly nervous and seemed as though he would rather be anywhere else right now. He was sweating slightly, and he was blinking in a bit too much.
"what are we supposed to do with a bowl of chocolate syrup?" Jason asks.
The waiter seemed to swallow, having almost expected to be scolded right now. Instead, that hadn't happened.
"You could lick it off of each other... if you wanted to."
Pt. 2? idk why but my dms and comments aren't working so I'll j post a poll later.
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apollosfavkiddo · 1 month
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hi, I’m not great at requesting things but if this makes sense could you write a high school au where Jason is a football player. I think it would be cute cause he’s definitely tall enough and strong enough but then add in him being kind and wow he would make the BEST high school football player boyfriend. Thank you
⛧° Jason Grace x Nerdy! Reader hcs °⛧
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content: jason grace x reader, college au!
warnings: cursing, allusions to sexual stuff (not much tho), stupidtly fluffy and corny.
a/n: bby if i tell you i dreamt about this, would you believe me? like, i swear to all the gods, i dreamt with this and woke up thinking about writing it… well, here ya go. oh, and i also made her a brazilian, i hope you don’t mind? if you do, just ignore it, please 🫡
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
Of course, he’s a great football player.
Like, i know no shit about football, i’m a soccer girly, but he’s the best quarterback in the city. like, he’s really really good.
And obviously everyone believes he’s such an asshole and a womanizer.
But in reality he’s so so nice
Sure, he sleeps with some girls and all, but not as much as his teammates.
He’s also the only jock that sticks with a girlfriend. Not for long, but still more than the other guys ig
So when he was having trouble with maths, he needed a tutor, cause he had to have a back up plan of he didn’t went for the pros
Such a nice boy, fr.
And he went talk with the teacher to ask who could teach him.
And that’s when he found you.
You weren’t exactly a super nerd. You just liked to study.
But you had a lot of friends, since being the only exchange student did bring this sort of popularity around the university.
And when he first came to you, you were kinda bitchy.
You know, you had a bit of hatred towards football players. No idea why, it was just there.
Even with that, you were too kind-hearted to don’t tutor him.
And when you got to know each other… you kinda started liking him.
On your first study session, the library was too full, so you went to the outside
Which was really working out, till Jason found a little bird that probably fell from his nest
The guy was so worried that he almost took the bird home
He would’ve done it if you didn’t stop him
But he found the nest and put the little bird back there
And you just stood there, like “what the fuck? isn’t he supposed to be a douche?”
It happens that he’s not.
And you became pretty good friends with the frequent study sessions and all.
Not to mention he was pretty offended when you told him you didn’t like football.
And you were very offended when he asked if the spoke Spanish in Brazil.
He knew it didn’t, he just did it to piss you off.
He really wanted you to go to one of his games, but you never said you were really going.
So, one day, when his team was having a match against Briar University, he was more than surprised to see you at the stands, right in the front.
With his jersey. With his number and name on your back.
He honestly felt he was gonna cry right then and there.
He got so happy he made a touchdown. They won.
And you were there, cheering for him and pretending like you understand anything that was going on there.
When the game ended, he came rushing towards you.
“Congrats, Gra-“ Before you could even finish your sentence, he kissed you.
Oh, and it was heaven.
After this, you started dating and it was the best thing you ever experienced.
He was such a gentleman.
Doors? Don’t even touch that. Dates? He’s paying, duh. You’re tired? He’ll carry you, bridal style.
You get the point.
You started liking football because of him. And he started liking soccer because of you.
a/n: i don’t know what to feel about this lol. idk what you’ll think of the brazilian thing, but if you don’t like it, i’ll remake it, promise!
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kisses4kaia · 4 months
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i’ve been seeing ppl do sej x coryo x reader and all the time i see dom sej, switch coryo, and sub reader and it gave me this idea.
i think it would be interesting to see dom coryo, switch sej, and sub reader. yes ik this is very much ooc BUT IDGAF 😵
the plot could be that coryo and sej find the reader’s diary that she kept hidden in a shoebox. in the diary she’s saying things like “oh i want coryo or sej so bad omg”(obviously not like that LMAO). i feel like you could put romance into this plot too by having them see that she also would write about these cute scenarios abt them both. TEETH ROTTING THINGS EVEN.
i’m not sure if coryo would be more gentle with sej bc in my mind he(coryo) would be the one to actually consider the things in the diary. sej is up for the idea, but he’s nervous abt doing this with coryo bc duh it’s his best friend.
anyways, i hope this is interesting enough to do bc i liked how you wrote sub sej!
(this was long asf i’m so sorry 😭😭 also, this doesn’t have to be a long ass fic! if you think this would be better as a longer fic or shorter fic, GO AHEAD‼️‼️)
YES I LOVE ! plz don’t apologize i loved hearing ur thoughts . oh and i changed some minor things about this but i still hope u enjoy💞
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your blood ran cold as corio stood at the foot of the bed, your fuzzy pink diary in hand as sejanus stood next to him, arms crossed and a smug look on his face, as if he was trying to contain laughter. “god, i would die happy if i could sit on coriolanus’ face and have sejanus stuff his cock down my throat,” corio quoted your journal, an devilish, amused, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “such dirty words for such a shy girl. don’t you agree, sejanus?”
he meets the blond boys eyes and nods, in modest agreement. “i don’t know, corio, i’m not all that surprised. i mean, she practically begged to join our group for the project,” he cocked his head slightly as he reasoned, all too casual about the situation.
he hadn’t lied, when professor click assigned a project for groups of three, you immediately got to batting your eyelashes and flattery with the two boys. at first, your intentions were pure, only wanting to ensure a good grade for the assignment, and it made the most sense to try to get with sejanus and coriolanus, for they had the highest marks in the entirety of the class. you had wanted nothing but an ‘a’, until you began noticing how beautiful corio’s eyes were in the sunlight, and how full and plump sej’s lips were when he pushed a pencil through them in concentration, and you hadn’t even realized you’d begun spiraling. you entrusted your diary with all the details of your infatuation for the boys, and as you wrote on late, dark nights, you’d never expected to have the subjects of your logs read it. you were utterly mortified, and your paled expression did not conceal it well. “oh, come on now, darling. don’t be ashamed, we aren’t judging you,” coriolanus cooed at your rigid posture at the head of the bed.
today was supposed to be the last day. the last day you were working on the project, and you’d let them into your empty home, into your bedroom, and onto your bed. you had let them linger in your room while you grabbed your school bag from the living room, facilitating them just the right amount of time to snoop if they so pleased, and you should have known that they did. in their defense, how could sejanus even be blamed for reaching for the blush book sitting in such plain sight on your nightstand? how could coriolanus be at fault for reading more when the first page had ‘corio ♡’ and ‘sej ♡’ written about 30 times all over the lined paper? when you’d returned, completely oblivious to their snooping, corio had hidden it behind his back and obscured it from your view. it was only when you turned to grab a pen off of your nightstand, the nightstand in which you retired your diary to every night, that you noticed the pink rectangle missing. slowly, you turned to face the boys who were standing, your innermost thoughts and secrets in corio’s hands. “i-it’s not what it looks like, i promise. i just…” you’re stumbling over your words nervously and you can feel sweat forming on your brow.
corio just laughs before sejanus takes the book from him, thumbing to another page. “all i want is for sej to hold me in his strong arms while corio eats me out. i need him to call me a good girl, i need it, i need it, i need it,” as he reads, his voice is monotonous, but his face reads touched, pleased. he looks over to corio, and upon viewing the expression on his face, knowing exactly which gears are turning in that head of his, he shakes his head. “i don’t know, corio. is that really a good idea?” sej is hesitant, but the blond boy just keeps staring at you with hungry eyes, the brunette boys apprehension not deterring him from his goal one bit. “sejanus, she obviously wants it if she wrote a whole fucking novel on how bad she needs to get her holes filled by me and you,” he reasons, speaking as though you are not in the room, which sent shivers rampant all over your skin. “but together?” sejanus squeaks and corio’s expression of amusement shifts from you to him. “what, you don’t want to? because i’ll be here? c’mon, sejanus, let’s not pretend i can’t see you’re hard at the mere idea of seeing me cum inside of her,” sejanus just rolls his eyes and redirects his attention back to you. “you want this?” he’s walking slowly, closer and closer to you, you who’s sat pretty at the head of the queen-sized bed, like an unsuspecting doe while the wolves prey on you hungrily. coriolanus walks around the other side, and your senses are on fire, watching your two classmates stalk towards you with primal lust swirling in their deep eyes.
you can only nod weakly, afraid that if you were to make a sound, your own voice would betray you. “words, sweetheart,” corio says in a singsong voice, his hand reaching out to your chin, jerking it to force your eyes to meet his. “please,” you squeak, lower lip almost quivering. the blond boy pouts at you, before using his free hand to fall between your thighs, flipping your skirt up before petting your cunt over your embarrassingly damp panties. corio’s digits move skillfully as the pads of his fingers press through the fabric and onto your clit, pulling desperate whimpers out of you. you haven’t forgotten about sejanus in the slightest, hyper aware of his looming presence, but you were much too afraid to break eye contact with corio, so you simply whisper faintly under your breath “sejanus,”
corio lets up on his grip of your jaw and allows your eyes to land on sejanus, who’s palming his bulge through his trousers. his eyes read your needy ones before grabbing your hand and replacing his own. you gasp at the how large he feels even through the layers of fabric, and have to bite your lip to the point of breaking skin so as to contain a moan. corio’s ministrations feel good, so good, but it’s not enough. “more, please. need you, need you both” your eyes begin pricking with tears as you look back at the snow boy, face rendering as a plead as your hips buck weakly into his hand. “i know, baby, i know,” corio leans down and for the first time, presses a kiss to your lips, before pulling your panties to the side and sliding his middle digit into you with ease. you moan against the sweet lips on yours, and turn to face sejanus, eyes begging for permission as you toy with the button on his trousers. “go ahead, pretty,” sejanus breathes out, pleasure building up within him. as well as you can manage while under the influence of gratification corio is invoking upon you, you undo the button and the zipper of sejanus’ pants and pull them down along with his boxers, allowing his cock to spring free. you were mesmerized at first glance, he was beautiful; girthy, but still quite lengthy. prominent veins ran up and down him and his tip was a dark shade of vermillion, weeping with pre. you swear you thought drool was coming out of your mouth, because sejanus just smiles knowingly, guiding your hand back onto his cock.
at the same time, corio adds another finger to your tight cunt. his other hand comes in to use the pad of his thumb to draw calculated, deliciously meticulous, circles on your sensitive bud. you can tell sejanus is close from the way his eyes flutter shut as pleasure overtakes him, from how you can feel him twitch in your hand, and you know your release is coming soon, too. and when it does, pleasure courses through your veins, you had never felt anything like the orgasm corio talked you through. “fuck, yeah baby. cum all on my fingers, hm? poor, pretty, baby. so wound up f’me,”
not long after, you feel sejanus’ seed spill onto your hand, a string of explicits falling smoothly from his plump lips, along with moans of your name and praises for how good you make him feel. when his eyes reopen, you suddenly feel bolder than you did 20 minutes ago, and stare him down like he’s the prey, while licking his sperm off of your pretty, delicate, manicured, fingers. sejanus thinks—no, he knows—that could’ve made him cum again on the spot if corio hadn’t interjected, his tone a starved and vicious growl.
“on your knees, now.”
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Addams!Yuu
I'm just here to mix-and-match different kinds of Yuus with different kinds of personalities to see what monstrosity I can make. That being said,,, Addams!Yuu brainrot!
Don’t be surprised. There’s always gonna be that obligatory Addams Family fusion AU in every fandom and if there’s not then that’s clearly already a sign for you, my dear reader, to start writing one.
Anyway, Addams!Yuu, who doesn’t know about the Addams Family? If you don’t then that must mean I’m ancient (which is fair) and that you should start with the Addams Family 1991 movie.
Addams!Yuu who has the standard issue dark sense of humor, fascination for the weird and macabre, the love for the dark colors that all Addams seem to have and values family a lot. 
After Grim opens the coffin, sees Addams!Yuu in all their gothic glory, and then proceeding to threaten them, Addams!Yuu really just said: 
“Oh, what bliss! To have slept like the dead, woke up suffocating, and greeted by such sweet words in such a finely made coffin. Is this what it’s like to be courted? What am I getting courted by? A depraved stalker? A monstrous beast? *gasp* Perhaps… a demented serial killer?” [cue Yuu swooning, dramatically holding a hand over their forehead and lightly fanning themselves with their other hand]
Anyway, they don’t ignore Grim for long. Not when Grim keeps threatening them and spewing out fire.
Addams!Yuu immediately became delighted with Grim because, duh, a monster??? Who breathes fire??? With a massive ego??? Threatening to burn them alive???
That’s like the equivalent of someone complimenting them… Maybe even borderline flirting with them.
Still Grim and Addams!Yuu click with each other straight away. Addams!Yuu doesn’t hold back when complimenting Grim, even if the way they compliment someone is weird, and Grim gets a huge ego boost. 
These two are an iconic duo who just keep hyping and enabling each other.
“Great Grim, for such a terrifying creature such as yourself…surely you must have committed the most deplorable acts. Oh, you must tell me! How many buildings have you burned down? Were there people inside? How many survived? Oh, if only papà and mamà would let me do the same… They said I have to focus on school first and start small before I can put myself on the government watchlist. *sigh*”
Grim has no idea what Yuu’s saying but he does understand when he’s being complimented, his ego’s inflating and that’s all that really matters, honestly.
Anyway, since the two didn’t do a chase scene with Grim attempting to hurt Yuu (though Addams!Yuu would definitely appreciate this) since the two of them vibed immediately, it didn’t take long for Crowley to find them.
After being led to the Mirror Chambers, Yuu had to physically stop themselves from jumping in joy because:
“A cult! How chilling! I didn’t expect to be kidnapped by a cult! It’s been so long!”
And, “The last cult I joined didn’t seem to appreciate it when I sacrificed a goat on the altar. Apparently they weren’t actually a cult. The police were called and they ended up putting me in an asylum. T’was a lovely vacation.”
Crowley tried to tell Yuu that they weren’t a cult and that they were a well-known and respected establishment but Yuu ignored him (Ha! Get a taste of your own medicine, crowman!) in favor of admiring the surrounding aesthetics. 
NRC is the perfect aesthetic for Addams!Yuu. In fact, the Addams Family would definitely love it.
But you know what they’d love more? Ramshackle Dorm as it is.
Forget renovating it and fixing it up to make it livable to the common person, Yuu’s an Addams! Yuu’s just going to make Ramshackle even more dangerous than it already is with its lack of maintenance. 
Think spikes all around the property, deadly traps around every corner of the hallways, and maybe even a few sentient trees and carnivore plants here and there.
Where did Yuu even get those sentient floras? Shhhhh… They’re an Addams, don’t question it.
This version of Yuu… probably genuinely respects Crowley wholeheartedly. [The myuultiverse is quaking. A Yuu who actually considers Crowley a good guardian?]
Yuu at Crowley, somewhere in the future: “You are the most idle person anyone can ever hope to meet. A coward. Wastrel. Careless. Greedy and money-hungry… How admirable.”
Crowley’s constantly getting backhanded compliments and he can’t do anything about it because Yuu is an Addams and Addamses have a weird way of thinking.
As far as Addams!Yuu can tell, they’re completely normal and everyone else around them are weirdos but they’re too nice to say anything about it.
Now imagine putting Addams!Yuu and Kalim in the same room.
JK, the two may have different personalities but they’d probably be good friends… after some rocky situations here and there caused by some misunderstandings.
Yuu might think that Kalim’s being mean to them at first because the Scarabia Dorm Leader called them ‘nice and kind’ which, in Addams vocabulary, isn’t considered a compliment.
When Kalim learnt of this odd Addams culture, he tried to make an effort to speak words with negative connotations but he felt it was too mean so he just goes, “Yuu! You look nice! But… uh, in a dead way! And you’re fun and kind, but the opposite of that! Ahahaha!”
Kalim found a loophole and he’s going to take advantage of it. Yuu gets what he’s saying anyway so it all works out.
Anyway, overblots…
Yeah, you really think Yuu’s going to run away from it? Expect them to be watching from the sidelines (hecc, they might even actively head towards the overblot) and becoming Rook 2.0 with the way they compliment the overblotee.
Them just going:
“Ah, those strong emotions that you’ve withheld inside of you suddenly going off like an atomic bomb upon a dreary night sky. That rage in your expression, that despair in your eyes… You’ve forgotten your humanity and transformed yourself into a beast. How tragic, how beautiful. Tell me, how long have you been torturing yourself?”
Sevens forbid they actually meet Rook. Rook sees beauty in everything and he’s sharp so getting into Addams!Yuu’s grace alone by just words is as simple as taking candy from a baby.
I would type a dialogue with Rook and Addams!Yuu but I honestly don’t understand how Rook talks so just imagine it. Just Yuu and Rook continuously firing off compliments to each other until either one of them gets flustered to silence or the others pull the two away from each other.
Just imagine Rook sending a letter to Yuu via an arrow grazing their head and Yuu just swoons.
Out of everyone in NRC, I could see Rook being one of the three people who can immediately reel Yuu in with just their charms alone.
Anyway, Rook would probably fit in with the Addams. 
Yuu could literally just introduce him to their family and they’d assume he was a very distant cousin with how he is.
Yuu asks Vil for poison now and again (no one’s brave enough to ask what they’re doing with it) and likes the way he’s obsessed with being the most beautiful person.
“Your ambition to become the most beautiful person to the point of insanity is admirable, Vil Schoenheit. How long can your sanity hold on, I wonder?”
Imagine Yuu seeing Neige LeBlanche and getting mental damage from how bright and cheerful he is.
Yuu being like ‘aight, bet’ when witnessing Vil overblot and then planning on poisoning Neige.
Aside from Pomefiore, Yuu also spends most of their time on Diasomnia.
Diasomnia is literally the second peak Addams aesthetic out of all the dormitories. First being Ramshackle, obviously.
I feel Malleus and Yuu would get along quite well. They’re both elegant and have that certain vibe to them.
Malleus could just talk about gargoyle structure and lore and Yuu would probably listen to him all the way and similarly, Yuu could talk about the witch hunts their ancestor used to have and Malleus would listen just as intently.
You know what… Lilia’s food is probably a delicacy to them. 
That thing is a weapon of mass destruction and I refuse to believe that Addams!Yuu wouldn’t like it if a mere food can take down hundreds, if not thousands, of people when ingested.
Addams!Yuu also likes Silver because he ‘sleeps like the dead’. Though, his little critter friends should probably be wary about going near Yuu.
Oddly enough, I think Addams!Yuu would also like Sebek’s boisterous personality solely because of his passion and if it’s one thing I know about Addams, it’s that they’re passionate.
Sure, it may be passion about spreading Malleus’ name and glory all over the world like a missionary with a mission (duh), but it’s passion nevertheless.
Diasomnia aside, no one in Heartsalbyul asks for Yuu to help them with maintaining the plants because last time someone did, Yuu ended up cutting a good chunk of the roses off of the stems before they were stopped by both Ace and Deuce.
Of course Riddle got angry but after a few talks here and there and some communication (that’s character development) from both parties, Yuu realize that cutting the roses off of the bushes was a no-no and instead settles for painting the roses red when needed because it reminds them of the color of blood.
All in all Addams!Yuu would definitely fit right in with Night Raven College. 
It has the aesthetics and no one there is overly cheerful or colorful so it’s the perfect place for an Addams to reside at.
The overblots are just everyday routine for Yuu and they wouldn’t have it any other way.
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hannieehaee · 1 month
Text
DOES HE KNOW ? (teaser)
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18+ / mdi
summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.
content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 1k (teaser); 9.8k (full fic)
release date: april 17th
or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!
a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3
masterlist
support me through a one time tip<3
Something was clearly wrong with you.
Was Lee Chan hot?
Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.
You could date it back to some months ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.
For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).
After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.
"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.
"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.
"Wanna know a secret?"
"Sure."
"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.
You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.
Maybe he was drunk?
He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.
"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.
Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.
Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).
You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?
"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.
"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"
"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.
You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.
"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.
You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.
"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.
He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."
"He has a name, Soonyou-"
"None of us really care enough to learn it."
That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.
"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.
"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.
"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.
With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.
At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.
Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.
Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.
God damn you, Lee Chan.
...
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babydollmarauders · 7 months
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MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 6)
au masterlist
y/ndevils00
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y/ndevils00 HAPPY REGULAR SEASON!!!
WELCOME BACK TO THE SPECIAL EDITION: JACK HUGHES SHOW!
OUR MIGHTY FINE DEVILS WON 4-3 AGAINST THE MICHIGAN BIRDS!
tonight, my beloved, apparent bad boy, got TWO goals, but more importantly TWO penalties!! i love when he does good things, but i love when he does bad things even more!! even if the first penalty WAS a bit of a chintzy call, i still loved seeing him locked up 🥰
my favorite autumn tree got his first goal of the season tonight, and i couldn’t be prouder! you go, ginger snap!
my sweet bratt also got a penalty for interference, which makes no sense to me, and obviously not to him either- but alas, we persevered!
and last, but certainly not least, UNCLE HAULA-HOOP GOT AN EMPTY NET GOAL, WHICH SECURED OUR WIN!! THANK YOU, HAULA BACK GAL!
p.s. i’m sorry to Ellen, who i accidentally ditched to get a picture of her son in the bad boy box, and who also might’ve heard me call him a naughty slut— she laughed, but i think i saw a part of her die inside
tagged jackhughes, dougieham, jesperbratt, and ehaula
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jackhughes did you seriously post a photo of me COMMITTING MY PENALTY?
y/ndevils00 you chose violence. i love it. 👁️🫦👁️
trevorzegras hey those emojis look exactly like you
y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras I WAS HAVING A GOOD NIGHT AND THEN YOU SHOWED UP
dougieham autumn tree?
dougieham wait, hold on, i got this….
dougieham trees are tall and their leaves turn red and orange in autumn. i am tall and a ginger (red/orange)! therefore, me = autumn tree
y/ndevils00 YOU DID IT!! 🥹 i think i’m even prouder now than for your goal!
john.marino97 no me? no dawson?
dawson1417 yeah, no us?
y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 i have two words, eight letters.
dawson1417 “love y’all” ?
john.marino97 forgive him, he’s new to this
y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 DO BETTER
dawson1417 oh :( but you DO love us, right?
y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 duh, obviously
user26 DEVILS ARE SO BACK
jesperbratt i didn’t do anything 🙁
y/ndevils00 i know you didn’t, my little swedish meatball! I’LL FIX THIS!
jackhughes no you won’t
y/ndevils00 no i won’t :(
ehaula i’ve missed you, niece!! and unfortunately your puns too
y/ndevils00 IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME!! MWAHAHAHA
ehaula was that your evil laugh?
y/ndevils00 yeh
ehaula it was adorable
y/ndevils00 😠
ehaula @/kristen.haula isn’t she cute?!
kristen.haula our niece 🥹
user83 I WANNA BE HIS MOUTHGUARD
y/ndevils00 me first!
jackhughes why
elblue6 i promise, i didn’t die inside! call him a slut all you want!
jackhughes MOM?
y/ndevils00 you are my only true supporter, Ellen 🫶
nicohischier you didn’t call me any names! i used to pray for times like these
y/ndevils00 only because i didn’t get a picture fast enough of you bent over like me in the bedroom
jackhughes why do you say these things
nicohischier please stop talking
y/ndevils00 never. 🗣️ SLUT 🗣️
lhughes_06 i made it out unscathed 🙏
y/ndevils00 you wish
lhughes_06 wait, what?
y/ndevils00
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y/ndevils00 i was so happy to meet so many of your wonderful faces on the red carpet!
i was just there to do my job (taking pictures of my boyfriend! god i love my job!) but so many of you asked for pictures with ME and it made my heart feel so full!
i never thought that accepting this job would mean finding a boyfriend, a brother (two! actually!), two amazing best friends, and apparently a family of supporters! i’m so grateful to have the opportunity to make a lifetime of memories with this amazing team!
go devils! but most importantly, go devils fans! this wouldn’t be possible without y’all!
tagged jackhughes, john.marino97, lhughes_06, and dawson1417
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user19 i’m gonna go out on a limb and assume you’re the one to thank for Jack’s new hair, in which case THANK YOU 🙏🫶
y/ndevils00 you’d be correct 😈 YOU’RE SO WELCOME
jackhughes ya know, I’M the one who went and got my haircut
y/ndevils00 yeah, after i played subliminal messages in your ears at night, telling you that you should go and get it cut
jackhughes you what?
y/ndevils00 you look so handsome, babygirl!
lhughes_06 my squishy!
y/ndevils00 MY SMUSH!
lhughes_06 you looked radiant tonight
y/ndevils00 aww, well you looked quite dashing, yourself!
lhughes_06 my sister ❤️
jackhughes she’s in the closet
trevorzegras she came out?
y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras I’M CRYING, YOU IDIOT! i’m in the physical closet, not the metaphorical one!
trevorzegras oh! my b, bro
dawson1417 THAT’S ME!
y/ndevils00 that’s you!!
dawson1417 i’m also grateful you have this opportunity and that you took this job btw
y/ndevils00 THIS POST WAS NEVER MEANT TO MAKE *ME* CRY
dawson1417 please don’t cry, i’ll bring you a churro tomorrow?
y/ndevils00 suddenly my tears are gone
jackhughes no they’re not
dawson1417 @/jackhughes i’ll bring her a churro anyways
user73 I MET YOU!!! you’re so sweet, and gorgeous! i think i was even more excited to meet you than Jack!
y/ndevils00 ME? LOOK AT YOU, BEAUTIFUL GIRL!
jackhughes i feel like i should feel offended, but somehow i’m not because i’d be excited to meet dove too
y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes you’re so obsessed with me
user39 JOHN PICS 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ THANK YOU, Y/N!!
jackhughes my beautiful, crazy girl ♥️ i’m thankful everyday that you accepted this job and that you accepted the title of my girlfriend
y/ndevils00 aw, i love you to pluto, my sweet boy ♥️
y/ndevils00 p.s. if you’re so thankful, you should think about changing my title 🥰
jackhughes moments over
y/ndevils00 I’M JUST SAYING
_quinnhughes you didn’t hear it from me…. but he’s definitely thought about changing it
y/ndevils00 @_quinnhughes you’re my new favorite hughes
_quinnhughes i wasn’t already?
y/ndevils00 well, you were, and then luke bought me pizza
_quinnhughes pizza? PIZZA is all it takes?!
y/ndevils00 please captain huggy, have mercy on me, i was starving and your middle brother was trying to feed me chicken that wasn’t tenders or nuggets
john.marino97 grateful for you and the way you push me to d* b*tter ❤️
y/ndevils00 did you just censor “do better” ?
john.marino97 it’s given me ptdbs
y/ndevils00 ?
y/ndevils00 wait— “post traumatic do better syndrome”
y/ndevils00 i’m so smart 🥰
john.marino97 yes, you are! such a smart girl!
y/ndevils00 that feels like sarcasm but i’m gonna ignore it
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nebula-blitzar · 2 months
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Just kinda in the mood to post this so like
There’s a lot of rumors and speculations on how Fizz and Oz met and when so I thought I would share my personal theory.
I think when the incident first occurred, Mam freaked the fuck out because he had just signed a contract, had been doing work for him on the side, and made him lots of money. So Mam calls up Oz and asks him for prosthetics for cheap. They were decent quality (especially for the price,) and Oz had written instructions and stuck them to the prosthetics so Mam would see them. Mam, being the lazy ass he is, threw them away and just gave Fizz the prosthetics, with no guidance on how to use them.
Now Fizz was further indebted to Mammon, so he couldn’t really leave. He worked full time for him, and was still paid as much as he needed to get by (decent apartment, food). At some point along this timeline, Mam also had Asmodeus make the Fizz-bots, which lightened the load. But Fizz’s performances became more intense, and further put stress on him.
I do want to note I have a theory that imps with irises (all the time) have chronic anxiety or other problems. Since other imps’ irises only appear when they’re upset in some way, shape, or form. So that would be Barb, Blitzø, and Fizz. Cash didn’t have irises, but Tilla did, and since she was sick and shit, it kinda makes sense.
So with all of this stuff happening to Fizz and around Fizz with no one to help him, he had worsened anxiety. But he kept performing since he felt so indebted to Mammon. Around the four and a quarter year mark, Fizz started to feel some pain where his limbs were attached to his body. So he asked Mammon. Mam, being the asshole he is, said no, obviously, so he just kinda..kept performing through the pain.
Since the pain was persistent enough to get in the way of Fizz’s performances, he kept asking Mammon. Finally, Mam let him go do it so he would shut up about it. So Fizz and Oz finally got to meet in person, and they learned the problem was basically some pretty severe friction burns from not wearing them properly (y’know since Mam threw the instructions away) and so Oz was pissed about Mammon not listening to him (as always) and wanted to call him to give him a piece of his mind.
Fizz stops him, saying it’s a bad idea, and that Fizz will get in more trouble, so he doesn’t call Mam.
Then Fizz leaves, and Oz goes back to work, but not without texting Bee asking if they can meet up (if you don’t hc Bee and Ozzie as friends we can’t be friends/j) sometime soon. Bee is obviously like totes dude and a few days later, they meet up.
Oz asked to hang out to consult Bee on the fact he kinda had a crush on Fizz, Bee is super excited (duh) and is like tell me everything they talk more and come to the conclusion Oz has a genuine crush, and him and Fizz should talk more.
Oz doesn’t want to be awkward and text Fizz just to talk, but lucky for him, a few weeks later, Fizz applies for a job application at Ozzie’s, cause he wants to be able to afford some luxuries, and for that he needs more money, and Mammons not gonna give him a pay raise. Since Fizz actually is a really good fit for the job, he gets it.
Anyway the pair get really close both business wise and friend wise, and Fizz does more shifts at Ozzie’s. Mam isn’t actually that mad since he has the Fizz-Bots to perform, advertise and sell.
At some point near the five year mark, the pair kiss, and while both sides enjoy it, it keeps both of them up late. So the next day after Ozzie’s closes they talk it out and end up accidentally confessing their feeling to each other.
So yeah that’s first meeting, how they got together, and why they got to know each other. I am writing a fanfic about this in more detail, and this is probably not the last time I mention this theory, so stay tuned!
Ps thanks for reading this long ass rant lol
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s1ater · 2 years
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thieves in the night.
pairings. theodore nott x fem!reader
part two of n/a.
about. in which a group of boys are in search for the one thing that keeps them from their death.
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warnings. foul language
ricky rocks. currently watching twin peaks lol
“you’re not making any sense, theo,” your fingers curve against his chin, lightly touching his cold skin before looking up to him, trying to seem calm, but he can hear the slight urgency of worry in your voice.
“you’ll figure it out soon,” he doesn’t look at you, his eyes fixated on the forest beyond before looking back down on you, now completely dead in emotion. “don’t worry.”
you frown and he lightly kissed the side of your head before trekking away.
don’t worry.
**
the gift you had was simple.
it lives in your mind and the dark lord wants it.
the prophecy, the one that was wrong—according to theo—states a young male who inhabits hogwarts is the doom of all their plans; the dark lords plans. they’re the replica of a spy, they know, and they watch, and they carry all knowledge of the resistance. they will be the end of all death eaters.
for months, theo and all four of his comrades have been in search of this boy as assigned by the dark lord himself—punishable by death to failure. but failure after failure, death seemed like it could be touchable.
until you.
mattheo was absolutely frustrated that theo was more than right about you. he thought he was a fool because mattheo had seen you before and you put out that you were everything but harmful.
but as time passed and he watched you more and more, it made sense. especially when you threw in your trading blood.
your grandfather had been a loyal tenant to the dark lord for a very long time—carrying out tasks and assassinations and anything required of him until he killed five other death eaters and joined the resistance. this had done a lot for the resistance, pulling them three steps ahead and closer to ending the spread of dark magic. for years lord voldemort had acquired to have him killed, but was never successful.
but here you were, right in front of mattheo, just for the taking.
**
after your last encounter theo, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. especially since it seemed like he was avoiding you. you found this strange due to each time you’d ever see theo, it’d be him coming to you. so it must have meant… he was really no longer seeking you out.
“you really make it hard to find you,” you sat down in front of him with an exasperated expression on your face. you looked winded, like you had been trekking for hours in look for him till finding him here at the pub.
he couldn’t help but smirk, his fingers reaching across the table to pull at the loose strands of hair falling from your tight pony tailed braid, “looking for me, are you?”
“yes,” you say in a duh tone, leaning away from his teasing fingers. “i haven’t seen you for awhile.”
“and what do you need to see me about, love?”
you resist the urge to roll your eyes as you stare at him, pressing your lips together in a thin line, not knowing how to even answer his question without sounding desperate or obsessive. he set you up just so you would.
you both were only starring at each other now, waiting for the other to crack; to speak first. he was practically grinning at you while you only scowled back.
“you going to answer my question?”
“maybe if you answer mine.”
“and what’s that?”
“why were you being so weird the other night?”
“i don’t know what you mean,” he raised a brow.
you were already annoyed.
“forget it,” you get to your feet, “i’ll catch you later.”
he leans back into his seat, watching you get up with a slightly frustrated expression. the moment you pass by him, he grabs your arm, pulling you right into the booth with him, “not so easy, sweetheart. why’re you in such a mood?”
“because you’re being a cunt, theodore and i don’t want to be around you while you’re acting so rude.”
he laughs, practically throwing his head back at how ridiculous you sounded, “if you think i’m being a cunt, you’re going to hate me when i’m an actual asshole.”
you scoffed, your body beginning to heat up from the sudden awareness of how close you were to theo. you were practically shoved against his chest with his arm looped around your waist while the other was beginning to inch it’s way up your shirt.
“i don’t understand you,” you wiggle against him, trying to keep your composure by putting some space between the two of you.
“i don’t understand you either.”
you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, not taking his statement serious even as there was a lot of truth in it.
“why are you so tense?”
“shut up,” you finally shoved away from him, getting to your feet. “i wanted to see you, like actually see you but i think i’m understanding the situation a bit more.”
he looked up at you from where you leaned slightly over him. he didn’t understand why you were so short in temper all of a sudden, “i wanted to see you too.”
“right,” you nodded slowly, now standing up. “i’ll see you later, theodore.”
you walked away.
“smooth one, mate,” blaise and enzo slid into the seats across from theo wasting no time, taking your place, smirking. “i don’t know why i ever doubted your skills with the ladies.”
“piss off.”
“don’t worry, theo, there’s always next time,” enzo hummed, his tone sarcastic, “except, you forget you’re on a timer.”
“don’t remind me,” he dropped his head against his hand as he thought about mattheo telling him that he needed to speed up the process and move in on you.
“the sooner we get into her head, the better.”
he couldn’t help but feel annoyed with the sudden interest they all had in you, even if you were the key to all of them living. it was the fact that at first the idea of you having the gift was absurd, but now, since they’ve seen you, it was a complete different story.
“she’s pretty.”
“yeah.”
“sure know how to pick ‘em, theodore.”
“stay away from her.”
“woah, relax, sunshine,” enzo raises his arms in defense, “you forget she’s untouchable to us.”
“yeah, whatever,” theo rolls his eyes, “doesn’t matter.”
"it seems to matter to you a lot, mate," blaise leans forward onto his arms, "more than it should." his voice was interrogating as well as taunting and theo couldn't stand it.
"you forget our lives are on the line," he says dully, making sure his emotions don't exceed his face. "and y/n, she's going to take time."
"time is one thing you don't have, theodore," enzo looks sympathetic, theo almost doesn't recognize it by how strange it looks on his face. "mattheo wants her when the moon is full... that's in two days."
"two days and we'll be in her head."
**
you were annoyed with theodore, beyond annoyed really. the worst part is the fact that you couldn't stop thinking about him... ever. everything about him was so memorizing but also so strange. his whole existence was glued to your brain.
you have only really known theo in such a short time, but yet you feel like you've known him longer... and that’s almost true with the amount of knowledge you had gained on him within the past year for the resistance.
you had been watching him, all of them, and you were aware of the possession lord voldemort had over them all. the only thing was, there was something about theodore that made this task of stalking a lot easier. you found pleasure in watching him, learning about him, but that was far from good. finding attraction to the enemy was wrong, but you just couldn't help yourself.
mirroring theodore and distancing yourself was probably best option possible to abolish these feelings.
you sat in class in thought of this as you wrote mindlessly for your paper. you had been apart of the resistance since early ages of childhood, since you could comprehend really. your family name was widely known, and very important. there was a lot expected from you purely because of your grandfather and a lot of pressure to succeed. so you couldn't slip up, especially not now when the dark lord was just beginning to rise to power once again.
your head began to hurt, more than it ever had before. the pain was almost excruciating, making it very hard to focus on your writing. you laid your head in the palm of your hand as you tried to your best to keep focus—but you found it strange. yes, when you thought about you-know-who, you usually felt woozy, and a little sick to your stomach, but never had you felt this level of discomfort.
you grabbed you back of your neck, digging your fingernails into your skin in a way to distract yourself from the increasing pain of your headache—but it doesn't help. you feel your whole body go flush in heat before there's a high tension that overcomes you, a different type of strain that made you suddenly so restless, so uncomfortable to the point you couldn't sit still.
it felt as if someone was watching you.
“i know who you are.”
you disregarded your writing now, feeling completely frozen in your position, not moving as the echoing of those words caused your whole chest to feel a stress of pain. you looked around, looking for eyes to meet yours, but everyone was focused on their paper. maybe you were losing it, but you just couldn't shake off this feeling.
you shifted, now craning your neck to meet exactly what you were looking for; eyes waiting for yours and it was him.
the boy you saw in your nightmares.
mattheo. his stare was heinous and unforgiving as he showed no sign of letting up with his fixated gaze. it made your skin crawl and stomach fold up into itself with a sour taste paving its way up into your throat.
you looked away and prayed he'd do the same because he carried the devil in his eyes.
i know who you are.
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