#collisions in the dark au
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𝗔 𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗔𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘
ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru
content warnings bullying, university au, heavy bullying, degradation, humiliation, threats, blackmails, she/her pronouns, sabotage, bribes, blow jobs, cunnilingus, name calling (slut, whore, being called pig related names), noncon, dubcon, dacryphilia, penetrative sex, implied spanking, anal sex, double penetration, nonconsensual recording, dead dove do not eat.
notes it's been long since i've paid attention on this one and for @bimbosandbubbles, vanny. thank you for inspiring me to finish this one. semi part 2 here. part 3.
SERIES MASTERLIST
synopsis evading your bullies isn't a good idea so they take you to learn your lesson.
at the start of your uni days, you expected life would open a new path for you. meeting new people from different cities or in the international, new experiences and a way for you to start a new life with a degree after college but you shouldn't have planned anything for yourself as life had different plans for you. to mock you and spat at your face for being naive.
stuck in the endless game of cat and mouse with the university's golden duo.
his bright blue eyes peering behind his dark glasses while he watch the busybodies of students walks through the busy hallways of the university. searching for a certain someone that has been the sole enjoyment of his for the last few months. the only one who have lasted them for so long.
spreading his long arms at the back of the bench. legs spread in an inviting manner as he leans back, head thrown back. looking at the person sitting besides him.
“suguru, are you sure she'll show up?” gojo whines, asking the dark-haired male with the same footing as his in the university. looks and popularity-wise.
taking a puff from his cigarette, geto turns his eyes to him before looking at the students coming out for their next classes. blowing out the smoke before replying to him. his purple eyes glints.
“patience, satoru. she will show up.” anticipating the return of their favorite plaything. you could such be a tease at time like this.
it was time. your eyes rapidly searching for them. hoping to avoid the duo that everybody have singing their names. you don't want to deal another humiliation nor degrading remarks coming from them. you prayed. prayed and prayed, hoping someone will hear your pleas. clutching the straps of your bag tighter as you step outside of your class.
you began to made your way to your next class. you were glad many students were still present and crowding the hallways but you could never be so sure. passing the crowd with an apology to your lips as you occasionally bump into them but you keep your guard up, avoiding to look in the courtyard. you keep your sight straight ahead but you could feel your eyes tear up when a sudden shove from a busy student hit you. the collision making you look in the direction where the duo was waiting for you.
even at the distance, you can see geto's eyes fixated on you. a smirk curls in his lips. shooting you a playful smile at your direction.
your prayer wasn't heard that day.
scrambling into your feet and pretends you didn't see him. making yourself blend in the crowd and disappeared into the place where you only know. your heart beating a mile per minute, running away from them.
“there she is, satoru.” geto called out to his friend. making gojo straighten himself up and looks where geto is looking at. you're running away from them. how sad. how stupid.
thinking you could easily escape them and blending in the crowd. clever girl. they thought but they couldn't miss you. like predators marking their prey to be devoured. they know you more than you know yourself. exchanging looks and geto smirks while gojo chuckles. fuck, you interest them more.
two cats letting the mouse escape and corner it again before they can fully escape in their grasp.
looking around, you made sure there's no one following you. no signs of the white hair and dark long hair best friends lurking around. taking the more quiet place that students use as shortcut when in a rush.
you just wanted a peaceful college life. not being a playtoy for the duo who passed you around like you were some cheap whore. you want to ask someone to help you but how could they help you. some attempts were made and the good souls who believes in you where blacklisted from the university for some unknown reasons.
you didn't know how much power gojo held and the words coming from geto's mouth enticing people who hang from his every word and realizing it only at the end.
gojo satoru is the only son and the heir of a multi-million company. who made a name for himself in the campus. the pretty boy who have different arm candies hanging in his arms weekly.
geto suguru who you doesn't know much but made himself popular along with gojo in the campus. charming he is and had a fan club made for him and to his best friend. they're the best if people were asked about them.
and you. you were just nothing but a toy to them. a past time when they're bored and you're left like nothing when they're done with you.
they won't follow you, do they? looking behind you to check and you almost let out a breath of relief. you barely escaped geto earlier. your nerves still working you up.
“i didn't take you the type to ditch us, (y/n).”
you almost jump, making you stop in your tracks as you look up in front of you. hand in his pockets while waving the phone in his other hand. a grin in his face while stepping closer to you.
with every step he take, you took backwards. not wanting to face him or geto. you don't want anything from them. tentatively taking your steps backwards. you just could blend again with the crowd. your mind formulating a thousand escape plans. you only look at him in contempt. a last chance of bravery against him.
spinning your heel and you made a run for a life. you could taste the escape in your lips. away from him. away from the people who made your life hell.
flashes of light blinded you for a second before realizing you were stopped. the tight grip in your arm, the smell of cigarette clinging into his shirt. it almost made you gag.
“nice one, suguru. (n/n) thinks she can escape us.”
there was a stinging sensation behind your eyes. the hope you're once clinging ripping into shreds. falling once again to the madness this two seeks for the pleasure of their own entertainment.
geto pulls you closer to his. wrapping his arm in your shoulder. your back against his chest while his hand went to cup your jaw. raising your head to meet his smile. you sure could punch him if you have the guts but looking at his face, you couldn't deny that geto suguru is attractive. maybe it's the lightning or how his hair is elaborately tied in a bun where the other locks of his hair is loose underneath and the single strand of his hair falling down. acting like bangs in his face. the warm light of the sun illuminating his face like halo. it's almost— godly.
you felt stupid for admiring one of the people in your life who made it hell. it's a realization how small you felt, how powerless you are with this two and they remind you of it every single time of your life.
your lips is curled up in a frown and gojo take notice of it. the latter grinning and walking forward where his friend got you trapped.
grasping your chin in his slender fingers, blue eyes inspecting your face behind his dark glasses. leaning closer to brush his lips to yours and the immediate reaction earns a laugh of amusement to his. tucking back your lips and moving your head to the side. blinking back the tears and he'd be lying if he didn't like the tears on you.
you weren't special. you're nothing worthy of praise nor attention but you do give them a hell of a time. you didn't even look or close to the numerous bitches they had fucked. they were naturally submissive which they like and the worst is they got clingy which is incredibly annoying for them. skanky bitches like them think they can have a piece of them. thinking they're now hotshots for sleeping with them when they're just holes for them to fill and to leave.
you — you got a fight in you. they wouldn't tell you that aloud. they didn't need to shape a bitch for them. bitches are made for them and you, even a dozen times they break you, you're still standing up and perhaps they could keep you longer until you submit to them and throw you away like a trash. follow them like a lost puppy that is still coming back even kicked and worship them at their feet. they needed you to break.
your eyes betrayed you, no. it wasn't tears instead it was the impalpable glare you have given to someone and not just to someone. it was one of your bullies.
his shit eating grin turning into one of a coldest lines forming in his lips before turning into one of a condescending smile. an immediate silence taking over and geto didn't missed that despise being behind you. harshly yanking your arms he was holding and earning a whimper from you.
“ah, ah. what's that? acting brave now are we? who taught you that or perhaps we didn't teach you enough what happens to fat slut like you acting up? mmm?” he hums. closing his eyes as his lips crooks into a smile. his bangs covering one side of his eye and the other opens or both. you couldn't tell when his bangs is covering the other.
“suguru, don't be like that. we've been just too lenient at her and now — acting too brash. we don't want this for our pet suguru, do we?” gojo tuts. tapping his fingers to your cheek, eyes locking to geto. the eye contact generating the sickest of punishments they can sentence you to.
“please — i-i need to go....” your voice stumbling at the words and your false courage starting to crumble. you couldn't think how stupid you were for glaring at gojo. he deserves it and it's not enough. you thought. bitter memories starting to surface while you think of all the humiliations you had to endure by his hands and if you were getting punished which was already placed into you, you should have glared at his friend too.
gojo tuts.“nuh uh, where do you think you're going? this is what you get for avoiding us. you need to learn your place.” the snow white haired boy jeers at you.
suguru only smirks, grabbing your arm to drag you from wherever they wished to punish you. gojo following suit whilst humming a tone from a random song.
you ended up in a vacant classroom in where the area is currently renovated and staff and students alike are forbidden to enter minus the construction workers who were taking a lunch break. giving the duo the time to punish you in their own ways. you can feel the bile rising in your throat and the familiar sparks of tears stinging behind your eyelids. your heart quickening its beats from the nervousness and the shame you have to face on or it will never end. it never ends.
“strip.” the black haired male ordered you. seated in one of the chairs in the vacant room. his friend is also comfortably seated too. a huge smirk plastered on his face, resting his head in his palm while those blues in his eyes glints in anticipation.
“n-no.” you stammer out. your hands trembling. clenched in fists in your back.
geto fakes a frown. twirling his phone in his hand while he types the password in his phone.
“no? such a shame if the whole uni would see what kind of a slut you are. you look good in this one, pretty i might say. taking satoru's cock so well. hm?” tapping the phone in his fingers while showing you a clip of a video they had previously filmed from the past sessions. both had a copy in their own phones. they may never say it but it's a video they treasured whenever they misses you. “poor mommy and daddy. they will know how much of a slut a daughter they had raised.”
“you can't do that. you have no right.” there's a sound similar to a whisper in your voice. a cruel smirk etched in his face, looking at your helpless state. they know the power they hold. what would you do report? ask the others? too bad, they'll never believe you as long they're around. people worship them. what's the power of a peasant against them? nothing.
“he can, (y/n)-chan. just one tap away and the whole world will see you for who you really are. a slut who's desperate of attention. now, follow suguru's order or we'll post it.” satoru warns. playing with the arms of his dark glasses. the action making you see a peek of what's under them.
and just like that, like a puppet you obey them. your hands trembling along with your vision blurring from the tears that started to spill from your eyes. forced to follow what they ordered to you. you couldn't risk to be find out. knowing full well that you would just be shamed even it's not your fault. who would believe you after all? you were an unfortunate being that got thrown in a tiger's den. you think of your parents — who worked so hard for your education. if hardwork and determination would reward you along with their sacrifices. you will be the first one to graduate in your family. you just have to endure it. give in to their demands and maybe — just maybe. it will end faster and you could wallow in shame on your own.
retracting your arms and you unhooked your bag slinging in your back. placing it on the nearest table. there's a soft thud along with the taps of their shoes in the wooden floor. impatiently waiting for you to completely strip of your garments.
your head hung know as you hesitate to reach out for the lower buttons of your blouse. your fingers wobbles as the buttons enter the holes of your blouse. one by one. the buttons coming undone and you blinked back the tears again but no matter how many times you blinked the tears came running down your cheeks.
you couldn't run. not when the fate of your education and dignity are stored in their phones — or maybe. you'll let them and disappear forever — away from their hungry gazes and hands that turns filth whatever they touches.
a pair of blue and purple dances at your snivelling form. that look suits you better than being a stubborn bitch you are. all bark and no bite. who's the the loser now?
it's getting quite annoying how you slowly take your clothes off and the modesty of it. a red long sleeved blouse and underneath it a black tank top paired with a long black denim skirt that preserves and gives you the impression of being a modest and goody two shoes person. boring. they make sure to put in mind what clothes you are allowed to wear for immediate contact.
satoru sighs but it's closer to belching. growing impatient as he taps his shoes in the floor before standing up and walks towards you.
he holds the tops of your shirt before tearing it up. the last buttons flying away as they got ripped. you panicked and grasping his hands to stop it but he's stronger than you. easily pulling your arms away as he yank your shirt. the action resulting in your skin burning and welts starting to form where the cloth had touched your skin.
“no! no — please! i—i'll do anything you want but not this!” you cried, hands squirming to take it away from his tight grasp. “tsk. too late.” gojo taunts. turning his head to look at geto who was enjoying the view. “suguru~, lend a hand will you? little mousy-chan is real stubborn today” asking his friend nonchalantly.
geto shakes his head, cupping your jaw harshly that it started to hurt and leaves bruises to the skin. forcing you to raise your head to look at him. “this wouldn't happen if you were obedient. we could have shown you mercy and instead what did you do? running away from us like a squealing pig. accept your punishment.” his pupils darkening and you watch it through your glossy eyes.
“a bad, bad — bad girl, you are. who taught you this? ahh, maybe it's mommy or daddy. run away from the big bad wolf eh. it's that what they taught you. they're wrong. you're a swine who lures men at your undesirable self.” he continues to sneer at you.
you didn't know what's hurting at this point. your body or your soul. you didn't know. you couldn't even shield yourself from the spite of their hatred and disgust for you. if you were really this ugly and undesirable for them. why would they bother for it. you know it wouldn't be difficult for them to get their dick wet. girls swoon and was more than willing to give their body for them and if they want another to give the same treatment you receive, they can. a much more appealing person for their taste. a far cry from what you are.
he lets go of your jaw, the sound of your tank top being ripped from the back resonating in the room. geto grabs your head, your face pressing on his chest while he holds you to avoid interrupting his friend who was having the time of his life tearing your clothes off. your bra following suit. your denim skirt being tugged away and that made you cry even more, leaving you only in your panties.
gojo continues his torment at you. slapping and pinching the muffin top in your waistline. chuckling while his fingers digs marks into the skin. amused from the fat of your body jiggling and swaying with the assault it was taking.
his eyes twinkling in pure glee and it returns to normal meeting geto's gaze at him. looks are exchanged, a quiet agreement that they both fully understand what it meant coming for you.
geto places his hands into your shoulders before pushing it down, forcing you to kneel with no consideration for the bruises that will later bloom. gojo watches in pure amusement while his friend manipulates you into his will. this is what suguru is. his true colors in full display.
geto is not the person you want to be messed up with. striking in the place where you don't expect it. nothing can hinder suguru when getting what he desires and a shame for those fuckers who tried to help you. what they did get? blacklisted from the university with a anomaly he conjured up.
flickers of sunlight and dust mingles in the room. gojo shakes his head watching as his friend switched his charismatic demeanor into one of a sadistic. “suguru, don't get too hasty. i thought you were the cool one here.” he said nonchalantly, eyes hungry with desire and need from raking through your half naked figure. kicking your torn clothes strewn in the floor.
“i don't tolerate defiant bitches who can't follow rules and begs for mercy from their mistake.” his voice cool with hint of malice behind them. “i should put you in your place, (n/n). ” he smirks, relishing on how hope simply vanishes into your eyes.
“now don't be like that to me, (y/n). please me and maybe i'll change my mind.” his eyes narrows down at you while you're in the verge of tears. your lips are wobbling. faced with suguru's crotch and you regret looking in his eyes. a silent plea for him to change his mind. a condescending smile only and you received your answer.
you blink back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes while you reach for his belt loops. shaky hands unbuckled his belt and you were shook that you were fumbling and when geto took a breath, you quickly managed to unhook the loops and pulling the zipper of his pants down.
you never wanted to make it worse than it was when geto would show his impatience towards you and in your situation you can only obey.
he's huge. always was. the outline of his cock is pressed against his boxers. “i presume you won't be needing my help to get it out, princess.” his tone velvet smooth with a hint of impatience dripping in it. you accepted your fate when you tug his boxers down. his cock springing free and it slaps to his abdomen. “suck.” he orders you with no hesitation and you think you could cry at this moment and then you remembered how cruel the two are when disobeyed especially the male above.
you take a experimental lick in the tip of his cock before enveloping it with your tongue. you feel him shiver. a grunt can be heard next as you swallow half of his cock. bobbing your head in a slow motion while you stroke the other half of his cock.
suguru stare at the scene below him. his cute piggy taking his cock in your mouth. he places his hand behind your head. forcing you to look at him and it makes his cock throb more at your mouth. your round cheeks in display and your lips wrapped around his cock and that teary gaze of yours meeting his own. “take more of this cock, princess.” tapping your cheek and you obediently followed. he let out a curse as you take him deeper. closing his eyes for a brief moment and he returned to watch you take more of him. “you can only follow an order if you're being threatened. might do more of this—shit—haaah.” grunting as you fondle his balls.
satoru watch in pure amusement as you take his friend's cock. slobbering all over it as you suck him deeper and he's a little jealous. not used in his spotlight being taken by someone and suguru was no exception and your attention should be also on him. his blue eyes peering through his glasses. he watch as your round face struggled to swallow more of his friend's girthy cock. drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as you bob your head back and forth.
gojo shudders at the blood rushing in his cock. he began to palm his cock through his pants. groaning and the little puffs of breath he was taking. unable to contain his excitement he pulled out his cock. stroking his veiny cock in a slow torturous manner as his cum dribbles down from the tip of his cock.
“suguruuu~” geto winces at the call of his name. eyes half-glaring at his friend for interrupting the haze he was in of your mouth sucking him. “you're not the only one allowed to fuck (y/n)-chan's mouth. sooo let me have her mouth.” gojo smiles at him and suguru scowls for a moment before giving your mouth to suck satoru's cock.
gojo grins. “f-fuck... suck me more...” the white haired boy stutters. burrowing his dick deeper in your mouth making you gag but he didn't care. feels too good to notice that you're almost choking on his cock as tears appeared in the corner of your eyes. your other hand still occupied jerking suguru's length.
the duo loves nothing more than this. their cute, little toy being used by them. you spent the last minutes alternating between their cocks, both covered by your spit. you were currently sucking him off and suguru groans at his impending orgasm and satoru isn't doing good either but before their orgasm bursts. they made you stop.
“open wide baby.” gojo pants. both of them pumping their cocks in unison before shooting their load in your mouth. spurts of their cum dropping in your tongue and some landing in your face. “what do we say after giving you our cum?” his face remaining passive as he reminds you and if you answer it wrong, this will last longer.
“t-thank you.” you shyly mutters. voice low and sounding so obedient. that seems to satisfy suguru as he replied with a hum. holding your jaw between his thumb and index finger. swiping the sticky cum glazed in your face with his thumb, he smeared it in your face and without further adieu you swiped the cum in your lips with your tongue. the bitter taste of their cum coating your taste buds and it would linger for days to come.
“you could be such a good girl, you know that, sweets.” satoru commented. admiring your face covered in cum. “even you could be such a bitch sometimes and you choose today to act up and we know what happens when you break a rule, you get punished.” squishing your round cheeks before staring at you dead in the eye with his blue eyes glimmering more than ever. “and punishment starts now.”
breathing is not the same as it was anymore. you sat in suguru's lap uncomfortably. your ass stinging, covered with handprints as it starts to form welts. air became lacking as suguru continues to kiss you.
“mmm...” the small sounds is all you can manage while suguru shoves his tongue deep inside. it's been minutes and this punishment gets worst as the clock ticks.
suguru can be gentle as he is rough. the dried tears sticking in your cheeks are the evidence of it and your much demure attitude after a spanking does the trick of it so he's rewarding you of kissing you until you're breathless. your soft lips perfectly melding in his and suguru enjoys every minute of it. you taste of the sea and something sweet or it just could be him. licking your tears before this. it was humiliating to you while he savors every minute for it.
geto smirks in the kiss when he hears gojo speak. “she's so fucking wet, suguru.” gojo laughs. watching as slick flows in your dripping hole. your thighs are spreaded by him and preventing you to close your legs away from his gaze. “all that spanking got you, hah. i barely touched you.” mocking you as he laughs. your body tensed and geto noticing the change in your body chuckles. “getting shy, are we? let satoru do what he wants and maybe we're going to be gentle to you this time.” it wasn't much of a request but an order. you simply nodded. “good girl.” suguru mutters before dipping again for a another kiss. holding you closer to him while his hand in your back gripping the rolls on it and the other hand in your breast. his finger brushing to your stiff buds.
satoru let suguru have his fun and so is he. what's in front of him is going to tastier and he can't wait to dig. parting your thighs wider, satoru first bestowed a chaste kiss to your doughy thighs. making sure they are given equally the amount of being worshipped by him. he won't say it aloud but your thighs are his favorite. smooching the expanse of your thighs and sometimes resting his cheek to your thigh just to feel that softness over it. he will get both of them to squish his cheeks or crush his head. he doesn't care.
a smack sound can be heard as satoru took his first lick to your fat pussy. humming in delight for diving back in. his tongue lapping in your sweet heat and more obscene noises grew from his desperate feats of licking your slit with his tongue. alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue to get more of that goodness.
your plush body jerks involuntarily. all the places with the extra bits jiggling at the sudden intrusion of his tongue. moaning in the kiss where suguru had you locked. “mmm...hah—mmm...” is the only sound you can produce as suguru licks your tongue and going back again to take your lips in his. drool covering both of your mouths. eyes half-lidded and you're drunk in this haze and you take a peek of satoru in between your legs. his white hair moving so gracefully as he slurps loudly the juices spilling in your cunt. his large hands holding firmly your thighs. sinking in the softness of it as your thighs gets bigger at being squish. the flesh spilling in his thick fingers.
satoru let goes on your clit with a loud pop before you can cum. your whines muffled by suguru's lips on your own and satoru chuckles. wiping the juices covering his mouth. “i got on her pussy first, suguru.” satoru reminded him and the man in front of you smiles. “no need to remind me, satoru. i'll take her ass.” he nonchalantly commented and your widens. squirming in his lap to get off but suguru clutches your flabby arms in his hands. “don't be scared. it will feel good like your pussy does.” he convinces you but you don't want it. “who cares about that, it's part of the punishment.” suguru growls and that puts you in your place. accepting what they decided for you.
“hey, suguru. frightening our dear (y/n)-chan will get her holes tight. you might want to loosen her.” gojo commentated whilst rubbing your slit with his fingers.
geto tsk. visibly annoyed, a rare occurrence for gojo to see his friend like this. “satoru, punishment is punishment.” the purples in his eyes darkening and gojo shrugs. “whatever. i still get to fuck her fat pussy.” sticking out his tongue towards suguru.
it was painful to swallow the lump in your throat that never existed again and again. your hands are clammy while the duo began to position themselves to you. satoru slapping your ass before hooking his arms behind your knees and his hands holding the back of your thighs hoisting you up. wrapping your arms in his and the other in suguru.
the black haired beauty holds your ass. suguru spreading your ass cheeks and the tip of his cock prodding at your tight hole. “please, geto. not in there please. i—i'll do any—mmph” the sharp thrust of his cock interrupted your plea. making you cry at the burning sensation in your hole. clenching your fist in a tight manner. your eyes hot and warm tears came rolling down your cheeks from the pain like rivulets. “and what? you'll do anything. too late now, sweetheart.” suguru examines your face as it twist again in the thrust of satoru's cock in your cunt.
“fuck!” satoru curses out. chuckling at himself. “the only good thing in you is tight pussy of yours.” your velvety walls clenching around his cock. “are you crying?” satoru teases taking a mental note of your tears.
both of them adjusts their hold on you. beginning to move their hips in an upward motion to thrust their aching cock in your warm holes.
it burns. everything stings with every move. your muscles begging to rest as it tears from how they stretched your muscles and your limbs put in a uncomfortable manner. this is how your day supposed to go on. why you must be in this position. unwilling and unlucky to escape this kind of situation. you're always in trouble with this two and maybe if you weren't so fat for this two to mock and make fun of you wouldn't be here.
mistaking the tears in your eyes as being overstimulated which is true but you're trouble with the inner turmoil of yourself so you get lost and the two began to harshly pound their lengths deep inside you. groaning and throwing at curses.
satoru rests his forehead in your shoulder and behind his glasses, his eyes, the prettiest shade of blue seems to shine in astonishing sight of your pudgy belly. squished together and like dough being stacked together. jiggling at the impact of their thrusts in you and his sight lowers. his cock disappearing inside your pussy as it glistens and the wet squelch it was making, it was simply music to his ears. biting the junction of your neck. he stare at suguru who's smirking at the sensation of your tight hole gripping his cock. “she feels so good, suguru—ahh.. this pussy's trying to choke my cock.” satoru commented.
“you hear that, you feel so good.” suguru holds your jaw forcing you to look at him. “open your mouth, baby.” parting your lips at his order, suguru spits on your mouth. a glob of his spit hitting your tongue in which you didn't hesitate to swallow and suguru smiles. “good girl.” he praises.
hard muscles are a contrast to your soft body. sandwiched between their bodies while they keep their pace steady in bullying your holes with their cocks. a moan is ripped from your throat when satoru hits the spongy spot in your cunt. knowing what he had done, satoru grips your thighs firmly as he angles his cock inside. hitting that spot repeatedly until you can't stifle the sounds coming from you. involuntary moans come spilling from your mouth and gojo swells with pride that only him, well both of them. he and suguru could make you moan like that. how did he know? silly to ask that. they're the only ones who had fucked you since you started college and the first to take your virginity. they didn't even allow men to approach you.
suguru wanting you to make you feel good like satoru does have to speed up his thrusts usually than what he always do. it's not even a work up from him. his desire for your asshole to only know the shape of his cock and he's the only one who can fuck this ass of yours.
“'too much. too much.” you babbled. the pleasure and pain is getting overwhelming for you to take. instead in pitying you it earned a chuckle from the two. “since when did it became too much for you, huh? you're a slut. sluts don't go to tell that it's too much. all they can do is shut up and take it.” satoru taunts you.
gojo hisses when your cunt squeezes around him. the creamy white ring forming in the base of his cock as you came. “shit! she came suguru.” satoru said in amusement and even he's like that he's getting close too and so is suguru. they exchange looks briefly before putting their strength in reaching their end.
you can't speak. they've taken your ability to speak. you can only moan in silence as you feel another orgasm bubbling in your abdomen again. you're going to cum and it's going to be more intense than the last one. you feel them both. hot and throbbing. the veins in their cocks making ridges in your soft walls. taking and molding their very shape.
harsh thrusts are back to back being blown to you. the tips of their cocks hits deeply as they can before releasing their loads. both groaning as spurts after spurts of their cum are being loaded inside of you. never did you felt to be so full and warm until they've released their loads inside of you. hot and sticky.
it took a few more thrusts before the both of them had ridden their high. handsome as they are and wicked even after fucking their favorite plaything. removing your arms around their shoulder. you slowly descended on the floor. both of their cum escaping your holes. dripping and staining the cold hard floor where you sat. you ignore them and you know the drill after being fucked by them. it's time to leave and slowly, you began to gather your clothes. your blouse are useless. tattered and shredded and it won't cover you. you're lucky your denim skirt are still intact.
reaching out for your bag to get the spare clothing you packed for when it happens. you grabbed the wet wipes. patting where their release had stained you, mostly in your face. a stream of tears you didn't even notice falling from your eyes got you wondering why the floor below you is getting wet. the realization dawning into you and you can only cry silently. dressing yourself and trying to be more decent.
satoru and suguru busied themselves fixing their clothing. not leaving the sight of their toy cleaning their self. suguru crouches down to meet your position. “crying after what you've put yourself into.” he commented. “pathetic.” satoru mutters as he watch you beneath him. “try not to defy us again, okay? it would be much worst than this one.” there's a hint of softness in his voice and maybe you could convince yourself that he wasn't a jerk from the way he spoke but you know better. they had humiliated you until you hated yourself. degrading you like you were nothing a dirt and not a human being.
“i understand. i'm sorry.” you say. bowing your head in shame for being disobedient at them. for not following simple orders. “good.” his only response to you.
“can i please go now?”
suguru hums and with that, you slowly made your way outside. your bag tightly secured in your back with your ripped clothes, you left without saying a word again with tears streaming down your face.
when you disappeared from that door, the duo both left at the building. going on with their lives again as the golden boys of the university and you were left with nothing, not even a shred of your dignity.
satoru reviews the newly recorded of you being impaled by their cocks. feeling hard again from the way your pussy wrapped around him along with your soft body pressed against him. “the best, satoru.” suguru commented after seeing what his friend is watching in his phone. “send it to me.” whipping his phone in a second and quickly typing.
your phone buzzes. alerting you with a message. you were wiping your tears after you nearly trip. absentmindedly wandering in the campus and if it wasn't for you almost tumbling you wouldn't break out from your stupor. more tears rolled in your cheeks, dripping down in the screen of your phone after you've read the message.
suguru: see you later.
#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#plus size reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto smut#geto suguru#gojo x chubby reader#gojo x reader x geto#satosugu
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — ITOSHI SAE x FEM READER
Sae might have rethought putting a ring on your finger if he knew husband duties included losing sleep to your overactive imagination.
wc — 500
tags — married au
“Can you stop squirming?”
Sae’s annoyed with you, but you can’t help it. You’re not normally afraid of the dark, but sometimes your mind plays tricks on you.
Around you, the night stretches on like a kitten, soft and velvet. Your eyes have long adjusted to the dark, but your room is poorly designed. Inky shadows collect in every corner, crated by awkwardly shaped shelves and random divots in the wall.
Like any normal, well-adjusted adult, you have no problem being in darkness. Just a few hours before, you ran a load of laundry without turning the lights on because you didn’t feel like it. But as you’re trying to fall asleep, your idle mind grows restless.
It starts whispering the kinds of things that make you pull your feet away from the edge of the bed and shrink towards Sae’s comforting, warm body.
“If you keep this up, I’m going to get my own bedroom,” he tells you.
You both know it’s an empty threat. How could it not be when you wake up to his arms around you every morning?
Still, it’s not nice of him to say that, and you let him know.
“Don’t be mean, I’m scared!” Your grumbling is childish, but there are certain indulgences you’re allowed.
“You’re too old for this,” he sighs, exasperated, but he lifts his arm so you can tuck in closer along his body.
Just then, you feel something brush along your leg. You barely stifle a shriek as you forcefully push your body into Sae’s. It’s a hard collision that would knock the breath out of him if he wasn’t a professional soccer player. As it is, he makes a sound of discomfort when your elbow bumps into him.
Up until now, you’ve been facing outwards, keeping an eye out for anything that might roam in the dark. At this moment, you peek out from under your covers, turning to look at Sae.
His face is entirely unamused.
You try for a sweet smile, hoping he’ll relent and forgive you as he usually does. To his credit, he only cracks after he forces you to endure a prolonged, awkward stare-off. Then he groans, pinches his nose, and bodily drags you closer so you’re all but on top of him.
Your head rests against his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you, tucking you into the line of his body. Your legs tangle with his.
“That better?” He says. “Nothing’s going to get you while I’m here.”
“Now that you mention it,” you say jokingly, “you are a big, strong football player.”
A peek at his face reveals what you already suspected. Sae’s cool exterior is hard to crack, but he’s always weak to compliments from his wife. He’s fighting a smile that’s apparent anyway, or perhaps you’re just good at reading him.
“But you’ve trapped my legs,” you complain. “How am I going to run away if anything happens?”
“Oh my god-“ Sae shoves a hand over your mouth and muffles any further commentary. “Go to sleep.”
#sera writes#itoshi sae x reader#sae x reader#itoshi sae fluff#blue lock x reader#blue lock fluff#bllk x reader#bllk fluff
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Chasing Cars | ch 4 (jjk)
☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: the power outage is still power outing, curses, Jungkook being Jungkook, mentions of being really drunk and throwing up, explicit content: they talk about what happened in ch 3, teasing, some Mario Kart (yes, it has to be in the explicit content section lmao), hickeys, brat!reader, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, degradation (he calls her a slut/pretty little slut), consent king Jeon Jungkook, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, jerking off, talks about having raw sex, protected sex, praise
☆word count: 9.5k
☆a/n: new chapterrrrrrr! Enjoy reading everyone <3 there's a tiny bit of angst if you squint your eyes really hard, but the real angst will hit much later on. Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, February 15th
You wake up slowly, with the rising sun. Your room is dark, cold, yet you’re snuggled close to Jungkook, whose body heat has been keeping you warm all night. He’s still asleep, mouth slightly parted, and you watch him for a few seconds before the events of last night come back to your mind, and you have to shut your eyes to try to forget.
It’s hard. His arm is still draped over you, and it twitches in his sleep. You try to push him away, but he wraps his arm around you tighter, nuzzling his face in your neck. It does something to you that you entirely can’t deal with, and you shut your eyes even harder, trying to ignore the way your heart is acting up in your chest.
You breathe in, the cold air taming the burning inside of you. You exhale slowly, and to your surprise, your heart finally decides to start calming down. You keep breathing deeply for a while, and you reckon it might have worked better than you expected because, next thing you know, you wake up with a start.
Jungkook is sitting next to you, and he offers you a lopsided grin as you meet his gaze, heart once again beating wildly.
“Morning, peach,” he greets you, voice gravelly with sleep.
You force yourself to sit up, and you stretch a yawn away. “Morning.”
“Slept well?”
There’s a teasing glint in his eyes, mischief laced with his words. You know you shouldn’t be surprised. Know Jungkook is probably going to turn you into a blushing mess even more now. Especially as he smirks, head cocking to the side while he awaits your answer.
“Yeah,” you answer, and you look towards the window as his eyes bore into your profile. You take a deep breath, another yawn moving through you before you’re able to look at him again. “Did you?”
“Better than I thought I would,” he admits, and he stretches before lying back down, pulling the covers to his face. It’s adorable, in a way Jeon Jungkook should never be, and you force yourself to not let it get to your mind as he continues, “I usually sleep like shit when I sleep with someone.”
You purse your lips, refusing to give meaning to his words as you say, “Maybe last night helped.”
The lopsided smile is back, and he nods once, sighing in content. “We should lose power more often.”
In the hopes that power would come back during the night, you plugged in your phone before going to sleep. You reach for it on the night table, and even though your room is still freezing, you’re still taken aback that the power is still out.
“Well, we still don’t have any,” you inform him.
He glances at you. “Then we should go back to sleep.”
At that, you snort, shaking your head. Even though your battery is low, you still go to your emails, trying to see if you received anything from your professor.
What you find is a college-wide email informing the students that all college activities are cancelled today and through the weekend, to start again on Monday. Your gaze widens before you glance at Jungkook.
“Power is still out in college, too,” you tell him. “So, no class.”
Jungkook’s smile only grows wider, and he opens his arms for you to come cuddle again. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Your heart is warm. A hearth, in which a small fire has started to burn. It’s soft, cozy, and you worry at your bottom lip as you survey Jungkook. As you try to figure out when you crossed the line, and if it’s too late to pull back.
You figure you can decide later when the power is back on and this bubble outside of time will have burst, and you lie back next to him. His arms, still wide open, look far too inviting, and it takes you about five seconds before you’re scooching into his embrace.
He sighs in content. “You know,” he lets out. “If Tae learns, I’m a dead man.”
Reality crashes harder than a tsunami on a beach, and you try to pull away. Jungkook holds onto you, even when you push on his chest.
“I was just going to say,” he adds so you’d stop pushing him, “that we should keep this between us.”
You nod against him as you finally stop trying to pull away. “Yes, I agree.”
“Good.”
And Tae doesn’t cross your mind for the rest of the morning. Eventually, you and Jungkook decide to move out of the safe comfort of the covers, needing to eat something before you die, as Jungkook jokes. It’s a quick trip to the kitchen before you figure your room is far warmer than the rest of the apartment. You retreat with fruits, while Jungkook grabs a bowl of the food he cooked yesterday.
Watching him eat it cold makes you gag, so you turn away from him to focus on eating your apple and blueberries.
“What?” he says, and he sounds like his mouth is full.
“How can you even be eating that?”
There are a few seconds of silence, while he clearly swallows his bite. “What’s wrong with it?”
You scrunch up your nose in disgust, glancing at him over your shoulder. His gaze is narrowed, eyebrows bunched together over his eyes as he fakes offence, or perhaps suspicion. It makes you snort, and you look away from him before you speak again.
“It’s cold.”
“Wow, is it?” he teases. “Never would have noticed.”
You roll your eyes, forcing your laugh down because Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be making you laugh anyway. Silence replaces the conversation, and you finish eating in peace, watching the world outside the window.
It looks straight out of a fairy tale. The trees are covered in a thick coat of ice, and they glisten in the morning light as if they are made of glass. It’s beautiful, in an unforgiving way, and you find peace in their contemplation.
Peace in this comfortable silence with Jungkook.
By the time you’re done eating, Jungkook has wolfed down the bowl he made for himself, and you both return to the kitchen to put away the dishes you’d used. Jungkook leans against the counter while you rinse them, arms folded on his chest.
“What should we do today?” he asks.
You cock an eyebrow. “We?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Unless you want to be alone.”
Your eyes dart to him quickly, before returning to the safety of the spot where the jet of water hits the bowl you’re holding. “What do you want to do?”
“We could go for a car ride,” he suggests. “To charge up our phones.”
“Don’t you think the roads are a little too dangerous right now?”
He plays with his piercing as he frowns slightly, clearly not having thought about this. “Right.” You watch as the cogs work in his brain, and you can’t help the smile that slowly grows on your lips when his features light up. “We can just stay parked somewhere.”
“We’d still have to get there.”
He furrows his brows. “I’m sure they’ve put salt on the streets, we should be okay.”
What he doesn’t know is that you don’t need convincing. You’ve already decided you’d go, mostly because you do need to charge your phone. Not because you really need it right now, but just because the thought of not having it with you feels strange.
“We’re going?” Jungkook presses as you remain silent.
He must be immune to the teasing glint you know for a fact has taken over your eyes. You sigh, before nodding once. “Sure.”
He beams. “Let’s go!”
His enthusiasm makes you laugh, and you turn the tap off before turning to watch him as he’s leaving the kitchen.
“Shouldn’t we brush our teeth and freshen up first?”
He stops in his tracks. “Right.” He turns, flashing you a grin that reveals the same dimples you noticed yesterday. “Good luck with taking a shower, though.”
You snort. “Let’s just brush our teeth.”
Which is what you do, Jungkook pushing you with his hips as you stand next to him. You flip him off, and his eyes sparkle as he looks at you.
It stabs right through your heart, and you look away, searching for salvation on the tiles of the floor. It does nothing – reality is just a heartbeat away, and no matter how easy it is with Jungkook right now, you’re very aware that the moment the world returns to normalcy, your relationship with him will too.
And you still don’t understand where this is coming from. Where this easy complicity between you comes from, and why you’ve never really noticed before. Was it because of Taehyung?
It’s a question you ask yourself for the next hour, as you sit in Jungkook’s car listening to music and belting out tunes even though you’re not half the singer that he is. He doesn’t mention it, only laughs along with you before asking you stupid questions about your past, about Taehyung when you grew up and why you decided to move in with them.
He clearly doesn’t like you saying that it was just because it was convenient. It’s clear as spring water, and he pouts slightly as he says, “Not even for me?”
You punch him in the shoulder. “I didn’t know you when I moved in.”
“But now you do,” he teases, smirk moving on his lips.
There’s more meaning to his words than it seems, and you feel blush creeping on your cheeks. “Do I?”
“I’d say watching me jerk off and come is a good way to get to know me, no?”
“Jungkook!”
He laughs like a child as you flush furiously purple, trying to ignore how, as a matter of fact, his words are actually turning you on. You don’t want to think about last night, just want to focus on the now, on this unexpected friendship.
Jungkook has other plans for you, because he says, “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it.”
You glare at him. “Shut up.”
“You’re blushing.”
If possible, your glare intensifies. “Shut the fuck up.”
He dissolves in a fit of giggles that makes your heart skip a beat, and you roll your eyes before glancing at your phone.
“Mine’s full now,” you mutter.
For a reason you don’t quite understand, Jungkook has two phone cords in his car, both of them working to charge. He glances at his phone, shaking his head.
“You’re going to be stuck with me for longer, peach,” he tells you mischievously. “Mine’s only on 75%.”
“Do you really need it full?”
He offers you an innocent smile. “Definitely.”
Your phone buzzes, and you both glance towards it. You’ve received a text from Ria, in the group chat you share with the whole friend group. She’s asking how everyone’s surviving, and if anyone needs to crash at the dorm, which for some reason, is the only place on campus that still has power.
You hesitate for half a heartbeat before turning your phone off.
*****
Today was fun, albeit cold. After charging your phones in Jungkook’s car, you took a long walk through campus, just talking about everything and nothing as if you’d always been close.
As if he didn’t finger you with his cum last night.
Whenever the thought resurfaces, it makes you startle, and Jungkook smirks. Because he knows – obviously he does.
He knows the effect he has on you. You think he sees how you tense whenever his hand touches yours, whenever he stands just a little too close. And maybe that’s why you avoided going home for a long time, because you’re afraid that being stuck between four walls with him again will make you go insane.
Alas, when you both grow hungry sometime in the afternoon, you can’t force him to stay out, so you follow him home, ignoring the weight of your turned-off phone in your pocket.
Fortunately enough, on all the journey walking around campus, you didn’t run into anyone from your friend group. Somehow, you were afraid that you would – what would they think if they saw you hanging out with Jungkook?
More importantly, what would Hoseok think? Maybe it makes you an asshole, but in the moment, you don’t really care. You are entirely focused on Jungkook, mostly because it’s easy to be entirely focused on him. As if he’s the full moon in a summer night sky – he makes all the stars hard to see, as he shines too bright for their glow to be noticeable.
You sigh as you’re settled in the kitchen, door closed as Jungkook reheats something on the stove. It’s not extremely cold in the apartment, but keeping the door shut does help with keeping the kitchen warm enough to be bearable with only a thick sweater on.
You think Jungkook is crazy. He’s only wearing a beige and indigo athletic Nike vest, and he’s left it unzipped because he claimed he was getting too warm. Underneath, a white t-shirt rests loosely around his waist, and you’ve been doing your best to forget just how dainty his waist is, under all the clothes.
“See, we’re going to build up your heat tolerance,” he says over his shoulder, and he flashes you a grin before focusing on what he’s reheating again.
“Good luck with that,” you answer, chuckling. “I’ve tried before, and nothing works.”
“You and Tae really are the worst at that,” Jungkook teases, and you roll your eyes even if he can’t see.
Indeed, he’s turned his head towards the window, and he watches the sun as it gets lower in the sky, nearing the horizon. You’re afraid of when it’ll be gone under; you’re afraid it’ll elicit sinful activities between you and Jungkook again.
Afraid, yet with a certain kind of apprehension to it. Perhaps because it’s not fear of him, but rather fear of yourself.
It’s hard to remember that he’s Taehyung’s best friend when you’re alone with him like this.
Especially when he sets a steaming bowl of food in front of you, a wicked smile on his lips as he forces you to eat. As you choke on it, the heat too much to handle for you. Jungkook laughs out loud before handing you a glass of ice-cold water.
It barely helps, and the heat remains for a while as you eat, and even more so as you’re done, watching Jungkook eating a second portion as if he hasn’t eaten the first one in record time. You’re playing music on your phone, your usual study playlist – lo-fi beats – and Jungkook seems to like it. He’s been nodding his head to the music as he devoured his bowl.
When he finishes eating, sitting back in his chair as he rests a hand on his stomach, he once again offers you the wide grin. The sun is setting now – the whole kitchen is turning to gold, and you hate that the glow makes him look ethereal, like he’s a piece of heaven fallen to Earth for you to enjoy.
“Do you want to wash yourself?” Jungkook asks out of the blue. You cock an eyebrow in question, but before you’ve had a chance to say anything, he adds, “We could warm some water on the stove and use that to wash ourselves.”
Your eyes widen. “That’s actually a good idea.”
“Come on, peach,” he lets out, and he chuckles as he shakes his head, a little condescendingly. “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”
Stupid wouldn’t be the word that you’d use. Arrogant, maybe. Too full of himself, for sure. But you don’t think that saying so would be a good idea, so you only shrug.
“Aren’t you?”
He bursts out laughing, that goofy smile that makes your heart skip beats in your chest as if you’re twelve and it’s the first time you’re speaking to a guy. “I’m not, thank you very much. I wouldn’t be in college if I was.”
“Lots of stupid people are in college,” you point out mischievously.
He tuts. “I’d thought by now you’d know I’m not a lot of people, peach.” He cocks his head to the side, and his eyes drop to your lips. “You get fingered by a lot of guys like that?”
You turn to fire. “Excuse me?”
And the goofy smile returns, as if he didn’t just say the crudest sentence in the world. “Just teasing you.”
You narrow your eyes but don’t find any retort to that. It makes Jungkook’s grin widen, and then he gets up to bring your bowl and his to the sink. As he’s rinsing them, he offers you a look.
“Should I reheat some water then?” he asks, the teasing tone gone.
You try a look towards him, but standing there, the sun forms too much of an aura around him, so you can barely see him even if you squint your eyes.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
“One pot for you and one for me, then!”
His statement makes you laugh, and you get up to actually help him get the pots on the stove. You turn the gas on, using the lighter so that the flames catch, and soon the water is heating up, and the prospect of freshening up brings a smile to your lips.
You notice Jungkook looking at it, features turning somber. And he’s quick to look away. Quick to focus on where the sun dipped under the horizon, watching the clouds turning to gold above.
“Have you spoken to Tae today?” he asks, and the reminder of your brother makes you clench your jaw, ever so slightly.
“No,” you admit. You think he’ll say more, but he remains silent. So you take it upon yourself to make conversation, and you ask, “Have you?”
He shrugs. “Just told him the power is still out.”
“Mmh.”
The silence is deafening then – you can barely hear it over the clamour in your thoughts. And you don’t know where it’s coming from, only that the more the silence stretches, the more you grow unsteady on your feet.
“How did you guys meet?” you ask, voice sounding a little strained.
Jungkook shoots you a look. “He didn’t tell you?”
You purse your lips and shake your head no, which earns you a chuckle from him. It makes you grow suspicious, and you narrow your gaze. “What?”
“Nothing.” He pauses, observes your features for a moment with those big doe eyes of his before he says, “We met Frosh week.”
You remain silent, waiting for him to continue.
“He was pissed out drunk in a bush,” Jungkook admits, and his eyes fog up with the memories as he looks away from you. “Jimin is the one that found him first. And mind you, I only knew Jimin for a few days then, since we were dorm roommates.”
But you know how easy friendship forms in that Frosh week. You and Nabi are a good example of it after all.
“We couldn’t find anyone who knew him, so we brought him back to the dorm. He threw up in Jimin’s bed, and the next day he suggested grabbing breakfast together, as a thank you for taking care of him.”
Jungkook smiles fondly, and his gaze connects with yours. “And the rest is history.”
It sure is. You’re not really sure where you come into this story – if you should come into it at all. Because Jungkook and Taehyung really are close – what would Taehyung say if he knew what Jungkook and you did?
It’s a scary thought, one that you’ve remedied with Jungkook already. You just have to not tell Taehyung, simple as that.
“I think the water is ready,” Jungkook admits, and he dips his fingers in one of the pots. He nods, before saying, “You can grab yours, and go to the bathroom. I’ll clean up in my room.”
“Don’t you need soap?”
He raises an eyebrow. “You know soap can be carried outside of a bathroom? Like, it’s not confined-“
His sentence dies as you punch him in the chest, and he starts laughing as you curse him under your breath, grabbing the pot.
“Open the door for me,” you grumble as you walk towards it.
“Please?”
You look up to the water-stained ceiling. “Are you for real?”
“Yes.”
You debate silently, though you know that you’ll cave in.
You reckon you’ll always cave in where Jungkook is concerned.
“Can you please open the door for me?” you ask, and you scold yourself internally for not being able to stand your ground.
“Of course, peach,” he says, grinning widely. “I can actually carry that to the bathroom for you, I need to grab soap and a towel anyway.”
He walks towards you, gently taking the pot out of your hands, so you end up opening the door for him, begrudgingly following him to the bathroom. You follow him in, watching him as he carefully puts the pot down in the sink.
“Here you go,” he says as he shoots you a look over his shoulder.
You can’t help but look away as your gazes connect, before mumbling, “Thank you.”
“You could at least sound happy about it,” he teases. You roll your eyes, though a smile teases the corners of your lips. Jungkook taps your cheek, and you bristle, stepping away from him.
If he cares he doesn’t show it, instead moving to grab a washcloth and his shower gel.
Are you disappointed to see him go? Maybe. But you don’t let it show, instead shutting the door behind him, making sure to lock it before you strip out of your clothes to wash up.
It’s freezing, and you hate every second of it, so you make it quick, washing the most strategic and important body parts. When you’re done, you move to grab your clean clothes from the…
You never grabbed clean clothes, did you?
You curse under your breath, mostly cursing Jungkook for making you so stupid around him. You hate it - you feel like you lose most of your brain cells when he’s around. But you can’t help it, and you tightly wrap yourself in a towel as you pray to the God above, if there’s one, to not make you run into Jungkook as you walk back to your room.
Of course, Jungkook opens the door to his room the second you are in front of it. You startle, freezing like a deer in headlights, and Jungkook’s gaze dips to your legs.
You hate the smirk growing on his lips the second it appears.
“What’s got you walking around naked in this temperature?”
Though you reckon his gaze warms you up in an instant, you reply, “Fuck off, I just forgot to get clean clothes.”
He leans against his doorframe, slipping his hands in the pocket of his grey sweatpants. He looks the perfect picture of male insolence, and fuck, it does things to you that it shouldn’t.
Like, make you remember that he fingered you with his cum yesterday. Thinking about it, it was a really stupid thing to do, but you hadn’t been able to resist…
And from the way he’s eyeing you right now, you highly doubt you’ll be able to resist him again. You realize then that the apartment is darkening, that soon you’ll have to light up the candles…
You’re sinking in quicksands, aren’t you?
“How unfortunate,” Jungkook comments, always so arrogant.
“I said it already, but do really fuck off, JK,” you reply.
He tilts his head to the side - the predator, and you, its next meal. “That’s not what you were saying yesterday.”
You blush, bright scarlet taking over your features, and you roll your eyes, choosing to ignore his comment as you finish walking to your room.
“That’s what I thought,” he says behind you, and you flip him off over your shoulder, which makes him laugh that boyish laugh that does things to you.
You lean against the bedroom door once you get in, heart beating out of your chest, cursing power for going out, and cursing your brother for choosing to do a semester abroad.
It’s useless - the cursing, that is. Because it won’t change anything, and a small, tiny, minuscule part of you doesn’t want it to… so you curse yourself too for good measure.
By the time you finally emerge from your bedroom, the sun has fully set, and you’ve been using your phone as a flashlight. Jungkook is sitting in the living room, playing on his Switch, which apparently still has battery, and he glances at you as you approach.
“Want to play a game?” he asks, offering you a small smile.
His features are lit from the screen, and he looks soft, his big eyes slightly crinkling at the corners. You hold in your own smile, instead cocking an eyebrow.
“So that I can beat your ass?” you say.
You watch as fire catches in his gaze, and you think he’s about to burn you to the spot. “Oh, you wanna play this game?” he says, his voice suddenly an octave lower.
A thrilled shiver runs down your spine, and you finish crossing the distance between you and him, sitting next to him. The leather couch is freezing, but you hold your wince in as you motion to the Switch.
“You think you can beat my ass?” he asks.
“I know I can.”
He smirks, leaning back on the couch. He rests his head against the backrest, turning his head towards you. “Oh, peach,” he breathes out. “You’re cute when you try to be sassy.”
You widen your gaze. “Try to be sassy! I’m serious, I’ll beat your ass.”
“In any game?” he asks, and his eyes dip to your lips.
“Mario Kart,” you say, folding your arms on your chest.
You’re wearing a thick sweater, yet it doesn’t stop Jungkook from looking down, and you know exactly what he’s seeing - you, with your legs spread wide open for him like they were yesterday.
“Winner gets head,” he says, and you really think you’re about to catch fire.
“What about Tae?”
You can’t help the question. Because you don’t want to do that to your brother, but you’ve been unable to resist. You know shame and guilt will catch up to you one day - hell, Ria will never let you live it down if she learns what’s already happened.
Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t think it’d make any difference after yesterday.”
“So you want me to choke on your dick?”
Night and you and Jeon Jungkook really don’t mix well, do they? Because you want him. You want him so bad right now you think you’re about to go insane, yet you know you shouldn’t.
“Fuck, peach.” He chuckles. “I want to know if you taste as good as you look.”
You wet your lips, and his eyes fall to your mouth, staying there as you say, “Well then, winner gets head,” you murmur, and you think he’s about to say ‘fuck it’ and jump on you.
You really do think he won’t be able to resist, and frankly, you don’t want him to. You feel yourself leaning forward, a moth to the flame, but Jungkook clears his throat, and his eyes shoot to yours.
“Deal.”
Jungkook sets up the game, and since you can’t play multiplayer thanks to the power being out and the TV not functioning, you settle on whoever gets first place first. Which you reckon is stupid - getting first place when you’re playing against the AI isn’t really an impressive feat.
You shiver before Jungkook starts his race, and he pauses the game to glance at you. “Do you want to go to your room?”
You cock an eyebrow. “Too excited to play here?”
He rolls his eyes, though a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “No, you’re freezing, and I figured, since your room is the smallest, if we do like yesterday, we can probably keep it warm. Or at least warmer than here.” His last words are accompanied by a vague motion of his hand encompassing the living room, and you reckon he does have a point.
“Sure then,” you say, nodding once.
You get up from the couch, and Jungkook quickly follows you. He’s so close, looming behind you like he’s the predator about to pounce on its prey, and you shudder with delight, warmth pooling in your lower stomach.
You think he knows. You’re convinced he does, because a few minutes later, when you’re in your room with the candles on, sitting on your bed, he leans against the wall, abandoning his Switch to the side.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s so easy to get into your bed, peach,” he teases, and you startle when one of his large hands lightly grazes your thigh.
You swat it away without an ounce of regret, even though the spot he touched feels like it’s been hit by lightning. “Are you saying I’m easy?”
His mouth falls open and he looks surprised, even maybe a little apologetic. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
The wicked smile you offer him makes him chuckle as he realizes you were teasing him, and he grabs his Switch, his brow creasing a little with the frown that adorns his features from concentrating. It’s cute. You reckon it’s adorable, and you reckon you shouldn’t feel that way about your brother’s best friend, so you push the thought as far away as you can.
It’s not like Jungkook is the kind of guy you should feel endearment for. Because you know he’d only break your heart - he’s not the most popular guy on campus for nothing, after all.
“Ready?” he tells you.
You nod. “Good luck.”
He doesn’t need it. He gets first place, and he puts his Switch down on the bed as you realize what it means.
But you’re not going to give in so easily to him, will you?
“If I get first place, too, then this doesn’t count.”
He fake-glares at you, but he shrugs. “Alright. Let’s see if you can get first place.”
The way he says it is ominous, and you gulp, cheeks flushing with pink as you grab the Switch. As per always, you choose Peach as your character, which obviously earns you a snicker from Jungkook, but you don’t mind.
Maybe because you’re starting to like when he calls you peach.
You easily start the race in the first position, Peach racing and drifting ahead of the AI-controlled characters. Jungkook shifts next to you, attracting your attention, and you almost run into a wall, thankfully recovering quickly.
It doesn’t last long. Because next time he shifts, Jungkook brushes your thigh, and you just know he has a wicked smirk on his lips without having to look at him.
“Stop,” you say through gritted teeth.
“Or what?” he purrs, and you nudge him with an elbow. He just laughs, his hand now resting flatly on your thigh. “Got trouble focusing?”
“You’re cheating,” you whine, and you’re hit by a blue shell which puts you back a few positions.
“Am I?” he breathes out.
You sigh as he leans closer to you, and his nose brushes your cheek. Instinctively, you tilt your head to the side, and he chuckles as he pushes your hair off your shoulder, before leaning even closer.
His lips ghost on your neck, and your eyes flutter close, the Switch entirely forgotten in your hands.
“Jungkook…”
His tongue darts out, tasting you, and then he sucks a hickey on your skin. “What?”
“What are you doing?” you ask, voice barely over a whisper.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about my fingers inside of you,” he says, huskily. “All fucking day.” He nibbles at your earlobe, and you let out a breathy sound that makes him chuckle again. “Just been thinking about how you’d feel on my dick too.”
“Fuck.”
“I know.” He kisses your jaw, and then pulls away, sitting back against the wall. “I think you lost.”
You open your eyes, realizing that you’re still holding the Switch. He’s right – the AIs have finished while Jungkook was teasing you, and you stare at the screen for a few seconds before meeting his gaze.
He looks victorious, happy with himself. You want to wipe the smirk off his lips, so you put down the Switch on the bed, kneeling next to him.
“So you want me to suck your dick now?” you say, voice low, and you drag a hand on his thigh.
His tongue toys with his piercings. “Well, wasn’t that the deal?”
Emboldened, you straddle his lap, and you wrap a hand around his throat for support. You feel him swallow, and you lean closer, watching as the smirk slowly disappears from his lips.
“Was it?”
He gulps. He fucking gulps, and you can’t help but bite your lower lip. Even though the room is cold, you feel warm, a tingly sensation slowly taking over your entire body. His eyes fall to your mouth, and it takes him a few seconds before he says, “Yes.”
You have him right where you want him to be. “Damn, who knew Jeon Jungkook wanted me so bad?”
You lean in, brushing your lips on his, tongue darting out to play with his piercings. He doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything, though you can tell that he wants to touch you.
Maybe because you’re perched on his erection.
“Maybe Tae should have left before, mmh?” you continue. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so desperate…”
Jungkook grabs your waist, spinning you around dizzyingly until you’re on the bed and he’s hovering over you. “Enough,” he says, voice rough.
You don’t lose the smirk. “Or what?”
He wets his lips and then leans in. “I’m going to have so much fun wiping that smirk from your lips, peach.”
“Oh, will you now?” you fire back. “Better get into action then.”
One of his hands grabs the side of your head, tightening around your hair, and he forces you to turn your head to the side. He leaves wet kisses down your neck and then moves back up to your jaw.
“If only Tae knew how much of a slut you are,” Jungkook says. “A pretty little slut.” Your smirk wavers as he pushes your legs apart with a knee. “I wonder, are you already soaked for me, mmh?”
“Why don’t you find out?”
He chuckles darkly. “Fucking hell, you really are driving me crazy.”
And even though you shouldn’t, even though Jungkook is your older brother’s best friend, even though you know guilt will eventually catch up to you, you say, “Then act on it, JK. Show me just how crazy I’m making you feel.”
His mouth collides with yours with force, and you immediately reach up, running your hands through his hair. He sucks on your tongue, earning a moan from you, and he grunts as you pull on his hair, the soft strands feeling like silk on your fingers.
He grinds into you, and you feel the powerful length of him rub against you. You know he’ll stretch you wide open, and you want him so bad it almost hurts.
You think you’ve wanted him for months already. Yesterday, you could blame it on the alcohol, on your inhibition being altered, but today… Today you know it’s always been about the tattoos, the piercings, and the shameless flirting.
You’ve been in Jungkook’s orbit ever since September – you were bound to crash into him someday.
Jungkook pulls away to meet your gaze. The weight of his body on yours feels right – better than Hoseok’s ever felt. The thought douses you, and you think Jungkook notices.
You know he does, because he says, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Your eyes flit around his features for a time – his nose, his mouth, the mole underneath his lips, his left eye, the scar on his cheek. They eventually settle on his lip piercings.
“Are you getting insecure?” you tease. Because it’s all that you know how to do, the only way you can think of pushing the vulnerability away.
His tongue pokes at his cheek, and he presses another searing kiss on your lips. You can’t help but moan softly as he grinds again, and you instinctively wrap your legs around him, your arms circling his neck as well.
When he pulls away next, it’s to rest his forehead against yours. You breathe the same air for a few seconds, until he says, “Consent is hot, peach. Tell me you want it, or I’m stopping now.”
“I want it, JK,” you answer. “I want you to fuck me dumb until my room isn’t cold anymore.”
Jungkook straightens, kneeling between your legs. The candles cast flickering lights on his honey skin, and you watch unblinkingly as he takes off his shirt.
He’s beautiful. You realized that yesterday, though you didn’t see him without the shirt. But he’s truly beautiful, all muscle and delicate waist, and his skin glows golden under the light of the candles. His brown nipples are perked prettily on his chest, and you want to touch him, want to drag your hands over every powerful line of his body.
“Shit, it’s fucking cold,” he says, and he quickly bends down again.
You grab the blankets, pulling them on top of him. Without any trace of hesitation, you rest your hands on his back, and you lightly scratch him with your nails.
“Then we better get you warmed up,” you purr.
You don’t need to say it twice. Jungkook finds your mouth again, and he grunts as you dig your nails in his skin, before releasing the pressure. He then goes down to your jaw, down your neck, and he disappears under the covers, spreading your legs wide open with his large hands.
“Can I take these off?” his muffled voice says from beneath the blankets.
You pull enough on the covers to see his face, big doe eyes awaiting your consent. “Yes.”
He smirks wickedly. “Good.”
He’s quick to rid you of your pants. He leaves your panties on, his large hands caressing your thighs as he settles between your legs. You know he’s going to eat you out, and you think you’ll go insane. But nothing could have prepared you for how much of a tease he is.
Indeed, Jungkook presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, mouth ghosting over where you need him the most, never once giving in to your desires. You’re soaking wet, painfully so by the time you groan, hand flying to his hair as you try to push his head where you want him.
He resists, chuckling darkly. “Growing a little impatient?”
“Eat me out,” you answer breathlessly. “Fuck.”
“Why should I?” He bites the inside of your thigh. “I love watching you squirm under me.”
You whine, yet this time, he licks the wet spot on your panties. Your thighs instinctively close, and he forces them wide open again.
“Don’t move,” he orders.
You try to obey. You really do, but when he pushes your panties to the side and sucks on your clit, your back arches off the bed.
“Jungkook,” you breathe out.
He doesn’t answer, too busy pushing his tongue inside you, parting your folds easily. You moan, and your grip on his hair tightens, though you keep him close. And he doesn’t seem like he wants to pull away. He starts making out with your pussy, squelching sounds coming from between your legs with every swipe of his tongue.
Soon, he gets bored of pushing his tongue in and out of you, and he moves back to your clit, circling it unforgivingly. He’s good, that much you’ll admit, and when he circles your entrance with one long finger, you moan again.
“You want it?” he asks, pulling away just long enough to voice the words.
He’s right back on your clit a fraction of a second later, and he sucks on it, flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue.
You feel the orgasm. It’s still far, but it’s on the horizon of your conscience, and you know it’ll hit good once it does. So you say, “Please, Jungkook.”
He doesn’t disappoint. He pushes his finger in, arches it to rub that sweet spot inside of you in time with the motions of his tongue on your clit. You grind in his face by reflex, and he grunts against you as you do so, resting his tongue flat on your clit so that you can pleasure yourself on his face.
He must know it’s not enough. Because after a few seconds of it, he starts moving his face from side to side, and the orgasm looms closer, aiming for you at the speed of light.
It hits when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, stretching you, and your walls clench hard against his digits, though he keeps on pushing them in and out of you in a steady rhythm. He sucks on your clit as you come, and you think you’ve moaned his name at least twice by the time he finally pulls away, drying his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Shit, peach,” he says, and you watch him through the ecstasy blurring your gaze. “You taste so fucking good.”
As if he wants to show you, he captures your mouth in a kiss. You taste yourself, but you’re too fucked out to be able to agree or disagree with him. All you can do is moan in his mouth, and he swallows it with a swipe of his tongue.
And as he keeps kissing you, keeps branding himself in your mouth, you run your hand on his body, blood boiling from the sheer strength that you know he has. You reach for the band of his sweatpants, going lower to wrap your hand around his clothed length.
He’s big and heavy in your hand.
Mostly, he’s not wearing any underwear. Or if he is, they are extremely loose, because you’re able to wrap your fingers around him even through the sweatpants. He bucks his hips, and you tighten your hold.
“Why don’t you put that pretty hand under the clothes, mmh?” he teases against your jaw, before he goes to nibbling on your ear. ���I’ve been wanting to feel it wrapped around my cock.”
You don’t hesitate. You move back up to the band of his sweatpants, and you quickly push your hand in. You sigh in delight as you find he’s not wearing any underwear, fingers grazing over the velvety softness of his length. He hisses but doesn’t say anything as you test the waters, slowly grabbing his dick.
You lightly stroke him, and he bucks his hips, trying to fuck your hand.
“Impatient, aren’t you?” you tease him, and he bites at your jaw.
“I’ve been wanting you for a really long time, peach.”
His words make your heart pause in your chest. Because you feel like there’s a deeper meaning, like it isn’t just shameless flirting in the heat of the action. It reminds you of the kiss yesterday, of the way he’d pulled you on his lap with no other intention than to kiss you.
And it makes you tighten your grip on his dick, and he grunts as you start jerking him off faster. But it’s awkward and clumsy with the sweatpants on, so you pull your hand out after a few seconds.
“Take these off,” you say, and he immediately kneels to obey, taking off his sweatpants quickly before resuming his position between your legs.
You’re not sure you were prepared for the sight of Jeon Jungkook fully naked in your bed. Though goosebumps prick at his skin from the cold, he still looks devilish, like he’s about to drag you to hell. His dick stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin.
He’s big. And not just his dick. Jungkook works out a lot, spends hours every week at the gym, and it truly shows in every angle of him. He looks sculpted in marble, a perfect body that accentuates the beauty of his features, that contradicts the innocence of his big eyes.
Or maybe what truly contradicts it is the way he fists his cock, jerking off quickly as he eyes you. As he stares you down, and you feel ready to go all over again just from the sight of it.
“You have condoms?” he asks, and he grunts as he keeps jerking himself off.
You have half a thought to tell him to keep going, to come all over you, but you want it too much to resist. So you motion to your night table, saying, “Bottom drawer.”
He nods appreciatively, letting go of his cock so that he can bend and rummage through the drawer until he finds the condoms. He winces as he straightens, a tinfoil package in hand.
“Pretty sure that’s going to be too tight for me.”
You roll your eyes. “Condoms stretch, you know that?”
“Not enough,” he says, flicking your nose teasingly. “But I don’t think we should go raw, so that’ll do.”
Yet, the thought of going raw with him… You grab a hold of his wrist before he’s able to start unrolling the condom on his dick, and he cocks an eyebrow as he meets your gaze.
“Are you clean?”
You see him gulp. Indeed, his throat bobs, and he tilts his head to the side. “Got tested last week,” he admits. “But I really don’t think we should go raw.”
“I’m clean.”
“You’ve been fucking that other guy,” Jungkook says.
“We always wear protection.”
Jungkook purses his lips, taking a deep breath. “Honestly peach, I think I wouldn’t last a minute if I fucked you raw right now. Let me put the condom on.”
He says it in a stern way that makes you let go of his wrist. You feel bad, wondering if you were pushing a boundary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem like he notices. Indeed, he busies himself with putting the condom on, rolling it down his dick, and he winces in pain once it’s all the way down.
“That shit’s fucking tight,” he comments, and then he positions himself between your legs again. His large hands find your thighs, and he caresses up and down once before meeting your gaze. “Are you okay?” he asks, with no lust or desire or anything other than concern for you.
Because of course, he’d notice that you’re feeling bad.
“Sorry if I was insisting…” you say, vaguely motioning to his dick.
He looks down at himself. “About the condom?” He waits for you to nod your head before he says anything else. “Peach, don’t worry about it. I’m seriously close right now, which is really fucking weird, and I just want to be able to make you feel good, m’kay?” He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You melt, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. He chuckles, mumbling against your lips, “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but you really turn me on.”
You think you know what it is. You don’t think it’s about you, or about him. It’s rather about the feeling of doing something you shouldn’t be doing. Of doing something forbidden, because he’s Taehyung’s friend, and you’re Taehyung’s younger sister.
But you don’t say it. Instead, you whisper, “Then fuck me good, Jungkook.”
He lets out a breathy sound as he leans his forehead against yours. There’s something so intimate about the gesture that you feel your heart soaring in your chest, and then he pushes your ruined panties to the side again so that he can nudge your entrance with his dick.
“I will,” he promises, and then he pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck. “Let me know if it hurts.”
Unforgivingly, Jungkook slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, and he quickly captures your lips in a kiss as he stays right there, deep inside of you, unmoving so that you can adjust around him. And you know you have a lot of adjusting to do – he’s so large it burns, yet the pain feels good. Far too good, and you easily understand how Jungkook got the reputation that he has.
When Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, he slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your walls suck him in, and he grunts, leaning his forehead against yours once more.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You feel so fucking good.”
Before you can reply, Jungkook establishes a steady rhythm. Nothing too crazy, but the drag of his dick on your walls is making you see stars, and you softly moan as he keeps moving, never once faltering.
“Moan for me, peach,” he breathlessly says. “I want to hear you fucking screaming my name.”
And then everything changes. Jungkook kneels between your thighs, pulls your legs against his chest, and starts pounding into you, bending down just enough to hit the sweetest spot inside of you. The change of rhythm and position makes you cry out, and your walls clench around him.
He echoes your cry with a moan of his own, something breathless that makes you want to look at him, to stay with him like this forever. So you open your eyes, and the sight of him is nearly enough to make you climax right then and there.
Yet you don’t. You don’t come as you just watch him, watch the way he’s frowning, teeth digging in his lower lip once in a while. Beads of sweat quickly appear on his temples, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t falter, not even once, as he fucks you, and you feel that familiar knot forming in your lower stomach.
You still don’t come. You keep it in – you don’t know why. You just enjoy the moment, refusing to rush towards its ending. Instead, when Jungkook pushes your legs open so that he can bend down and kiss you again, you welcome him in. You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close, and you scratch at his back with one hand, the other getting lost in his hair.
He grunts in your mouth, and he finally switches the rhythm, aiming for harder yet slower. It makes him reach new depths, and you can’t help but moan loudly as he keeps going, keeps ramming into you.
For the first time ever since you moved here, your bed slams into the wall from the force of Jungkook’s thrusts. It’s hot, especially as he moves to your neck, sucking hard.
“Best fucking pussy,” he says in your ear. “Fuck.”
And then he straightens again, forcing you to let go of him, before pulling out. You whine at the sudden loss of sensation, but he just looks down at your pussy, licking his lips at the sight.
“You’re so fucking creamy and wet,” he tells you. “Look at my cock.”
You obey, looking down to where your bodies almost meet. His dick is indeed covered with your juices, and Jungkook gently pushes it between your folds, collecting even more juice. It’s sinful, inherently so, and you moan lightly as he rubs his dick on your clit.
“Think you’ll be able to come for me again?” he asks.
You look up, meeting his gaze. His lips are slightly parted as he breathes in and out quickly, and he smirks wickedly as you nod, once.
“Make me come,” you say, finding some defiance in you again. “You think you’ll be able to do that for me?”
His gaze widens, and then he chuckles. “Fuck peach.” He chuckles again, slightly shaking his head. “I’m going to get addicted to this fucking pussy of yours.”
You whine as he moves from between your legs, lying down on his back. You shoot him a look, and he motions at his body as if in invitation. It makes you laugh, yet you still climb on top of him, grinding on his dick.
His eyes go to your chest, and he gently grabs the hem of your shirt. Even though it’s still cold in your room – though warmer than before – you quickly take off your shirt, wincing as the cold air hits you head on.
“So pretty,” Jungkook praises, and his hands reach up to push your breasts together. “So fucking pretty.”
You blush slightly under the praise, and you’re about to sink on his dick when he stops you. Your eyes go wide, and he motions to your panties.
“Take these off too. I want to see all of you.”
He says it with so much reverence for you that you can’t say no. You can only obey, sitting next to him just long enough so that you can remove the panties. They are soaked, and you throw them towards the dirty clothes hamper before climbing back on top of Jungkook.
Your gazes meet, and there’s a moment of you watching each other. You wish you could read his gaze, wish you could know what it means when he grabs your wrists to pull you down. Your eyes never disconnect from his, not even as one of his hands goes between your bodies so that he can align his dick with your entrance.
And then he pushes up, pushes in. As if you forgot just how big he is, you moan, eyes fluttering shut on instinct. Jungkook grunts, wrapping his arms around your waist, before saying, “Look at me.”
You do. You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he starts jackhammering into you, the new angle so good you feel like you’re slowly slipping out of your body, soaring towards the sky outside. It’s so good all you can think about is him, his body, the way that he holds you so gently yet fucks you so rough. You rest one hand on the side of his face as he keeps fucking you, and when you can’t resist anymore, you hide your face in his neck.
“You’re such a good girl,” Jungkook says. “You take me so fucking well.” He grunts loudly, slamming to the hilt. You think he’s coming, but then he pulls almost all the way out, before slamming in again. “I never want to stop fucking you.”
You moan, and then your lips ghost on the shell of his ear. Though you’ve been struggling to speak, you say, “You’re so fucking big.”
“I know,” he breathes out. “Let me know if I hurt you.”
You whine. “Never. You’d never hurt me.”
His grip on you tightens, like he’s trying to say he wouldn’t hurt you, wouldn’t be able to, and then he’s fucking you again. The knot in your stomach comes back in full force, especially as he starts whispering filthy praises in your ear, growing more breathless with every swipe of his hips.
Just when you think you’ll come, Jungkook grunts, “I’m going to c-“
He never finishes his sentence, but the feeling of his dick twitching inside of you as he stills deep inside makes you fly over the edge, and your walls start spasming around his cock, milking his orgasm. It feels far too good, like you’ve reached nirvana, and it takes you so long to come down from your high that you believe you never will.
But you do. You do, and the first thing you notice is the cold. Though it’s a lot warmer than it was when you started this whole ordeal, you still shiver.
Jungkook gently pulls a blanket over you, before circling your waist again. He doesn’t let go, not even as his dick, now soft, slips out of you. He lets you lay on top of him, ear against his chest so that you listen to his heartbeat, refusing to move.
You don’t want anything to pop this bubble of peace. Never. You just want to stay here with him, content breathing in the same air as him, until eternity flashes in front of you. Until you grow old and grey, to go to sleep forever. It’s a powerful feeling, though you like to tell yourself that it’s mutual. That his heart, beating softly in his chest, beats for you, in time with the beats of your own heart. You hope that he, too, doesn’t want to let go, though you reckon that this probably was just a hook-up to him, something he’ll be proud of, yet keep to himself. Because wouldn’t Jungkook be the kind of guy to be proud he bagged the little sister? You think he would.
And the thought scares you more than you would ever dare to admit.
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Is it me or is it hot in here? oof- Let me know what you thought of this chapter! I hope that smidge of angst at the end doesn't scare you too much...... bc trust me it scares me OOP
All rights reserved to@/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
#chasing cars ch 4#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk#jeon jungkook#btswritersclub#chasing cars#chasing cars series
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Your Father's Rival!Leto Atreides x F!virgin!reader
NSFW MDNI. Reader is of age, obviously! AU in the sense that there is no mention of Lady Jessica or Paul Atreides. Also, Leto may be OOC here. Not beta'd. More content/warnings below the cut. 1.3k words
content: seduction, nipple play, allusions to oral - f. rec., allusions to fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, duplicitous behavior, but everything is consensual
✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧
Your father's rival!Leto Atreides
...who invites your family to Caladan for "peace talks", but secretly hatches his plan
Rival!Leto, who welcomes your begrudging father, throwing a magnificent ball in your family's honor
whose gaze lingers on you - your father's only heir, nearly twenty years younger than Leto himself...
and conveniently unmarried.
Rival!Leto, who requests the honor of a first dance with you. His dark eyes devour yours as his gloved hands pull you a little closer than is formal.
whose stern countenance dissolves when eyes crinkle as he grants you a brilliant smile
whose smooth, tenor voice tickles your ear as he compliments your dancing, subtly hinting at how your body moves in perfect time with his
whose gaze lingers on your lips before dipping down to the low scooped neck of your gown
Rival!Leto, who lets everyone know to treat your family like royalty - to be sure you don't miss a single dance, so that you will eventually need to step outside for some air...
who conveniently stumbles upon you under the stars, in the lush gardens of Castle Caladan and manages to remark how you are more beautiful, if possible, bathed in moonglow
Rival!Leto, who notices your breath hitch when he nears, who asks permission to escort you on a tour of the garden, granting him the opportunity to take you by the arm.
who finds you delightful, really: intelligent - well-read and opinionated. Sparkling conversation distracts him, for a brief while, from his primary goal.
Rival!Leto, who plans to seduce you, and breed you.
You're young and beautiful, and a virgin - the cherished prize of his one and only rival.
Rival!Leto, who will snatch his enemy’s most precious possession from his grasp - to steal your youth, your body and above all, your love.
Not to harm you. In fact, he's already growing quite fond of you.
Rival!Leto, who bids you goodnight, as an upstanding Duke would do, who keeps your honor in tact, while his plan begins to unfold.
who notices you stealing glances across the breakfast table, smiling to himself at the impression he's clearly already made.
who finds you again in the gardens later that evening - who walks and talks with you, luring you into a comforting trust...but doesn't realize he is being lured as well.
Rival!Leto, who carries on for days, so innocently, that he's almost forgotten the duplicity of his original plan...
who finds himself meaning it when he folds you into his arms and kisses you breathless underneath the stars, his body responding with fervor as you wind your fingers through his thick curls and tug him closer to you.
who lures you the next night, and the next, until your walks in the garden turn into the collision of your mouths, the tangle of tongues, the sharing of breath, kissing and panting and touching, bolder each evening.
unlacing the front of your dress while kissing you deeply before trailing his lips down your throat, fingers brushing your collarbone.
stepping over the line of propriety, cupping your breast in his palm, stoking a fire of lust inside you. His lips caress the curve of your mound as hot breath fans across your stiff peaks.
Your father's rival, who takes your nipple into his mouth and gently sucks, pulling a breathy moan from your throat...
who greedily sucks and fondles away your innocence, his cock stirring and twitching at the sounds of your evident desire.
Rival!Leto, who has you half naked in the garden - a scandal just waiting to be uncovered - but the sound of his name on your lips won't allow him to slow, or stop.
who tells you that he's never seen anything more beautiful in all the known universe, and asks you to come to his bed tonight.
Your father's rival, who assures you his staff is discreet, and your secret is safe...
who thrills as you enter his bedchamber in the dark of night, very obviously bathed and perfumed to please him
who unleashes his fervent desire now that you are alone, unlacing your gown - his strong fingers laying claim to your soft flesh as his hungry mouth seeks out yours.
Your father's rival, who draws previously unknown desires from the core of you, making you bloom with raw want and drip with lust, soaking his beard
whose lips bring you to heaven itself as he sucks and fingers away your innocence, coaxing you into womanhood with delicious gasps and moans and sweet little begs that make him hard and ready to take your body completely
who slips inside the wet core of you, hissing as you snugly fit and grip his cock, whimpers and sighs of how full you feel tickling his ear.
His name on your lips as he starts to move - as the sting of intrusion eases into a fullness and completeness unlike anything you could have imagined.
Your father's treasure, naked and panting and scandalously writhing beneath his bitter rival, filled with his thick length, giving your maidenhood away to the enemy - to a man who has promised you nothing
Rival!Leto who presses his strong hand to your abdomen, murmuring your name. "Let me fill you up, dove. You can have a piece of me I've given no woman before this night."
"Yes, Leto," you repeat over and over. "Fill me...I'm yours."
Your father's rival, who intends to fill your belly with his heir, and now realizes, as your thighs fall apart - with each deep thrust - how quickly and how hard he comes inside you. How he fell apart so easily in the soft heat of your body. How he relishes this task he’s taken upon himself, almost feeling as if he is corrupting you.
who holds you close to his chest, like he owns you, your bodies still joined, kissing you possessively
Who can't seem to usher you back to your rooms, even to keep your scandalous secret. Who gently wipes you clean and folds you against his naked, sated body, assuring you to give into your exhaustion and rest - feeling a secret thrill that he’s winning your trust, as you sleep soundly
Who wakes to your beautiful face in dawn's light, stares into your eyes and kisses you deeply, certain you are falling in love with him
He swallows hard, realizing…something is happening to him.
Rival!Leto who finds his thoughts on you constantly throughout the day, who can't keep his eyes from devouring you when you enter a room.
Who desperately seeks a moment alone with you, to beckon you back to his bed. "I must have you again," he murmurs against your cheek in a darkened alcove.
He gathers you into his arms when you come to him that night and takes you to bed.
And the next night, and the next. Each night, telling you how he wants to fill you - his body climaxing at your eager acceptance
Who fucks you slow and deep one night, hand on your belly, hard and ready to burst as you beg him to fill you up - who finally utters his plan aloud. "I want you to carry my heir. I want my child to grow inside you."
You assume this is practically a marriage proposal. "Oh Leto..." you coo, coming apart in his arms. "I would love to be your wife."
He should tell you the truth. That he planned to breed you. To trap you on Caladan, to win your heart, and take your father's only treasure away from him.
But he sees an out - he can simply propose and all will be well
Rival!Leto, who didn't plan to actually fall in love with you
Who realizes, he's trapped himself. He loves you too much to lie anymore. So he confesses.
You don't seem upset with him, or even shocked. You simply kiss him deeply, coaxing him to hardness before joining your body with his once more.
Your father's rival, who has fallen in love with you, who wants to marry you, who will share children with you.
Your mission is accomplished. Your father will be proud.
And it cost you nothing. Because you accidentally fell in love with him too
✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧
Miscellaneous Characters Masterlist
Main Masterlist
#duke leto atreides#leto atreides#dune part one#dune#dune fanfiction#leto atreides x reader#oscar isaac characters
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Winter's King 12
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: have a good weekend.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.
“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt.
“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine.
“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.
He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway.
“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...”
You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him.
You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs.
You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.
You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game?
You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you.
You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude.
You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands.
You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges.
Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle.
“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray.
You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame.
“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.”
“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?”
You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.”
“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?”
“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.”
“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--”
“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.”
Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard?
“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--”
“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.”
The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are.
You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on.
“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?”
“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...”
“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again.
You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--”
“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.”
“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.”
You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor.
As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down.
“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.”
“Thank you, sir, I am fine.”
“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.”
You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?”
“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.”
Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something?
“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--”
“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.”
“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--”
“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.”
Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master.
“I would not,” you repeat.
He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.”
“Sir Bryce--”
“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.”
You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.”
He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it!
And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid.
⚔️
You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure.
“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.”
You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north.
“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.”
You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly.
“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?”
She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.”
You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest.
“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.”
She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.”
You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant.
“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.”
You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls.
“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.”
You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away.
“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.”
She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid.
“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.”
You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands.
“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.”
#geralt of rivia#dark geralt#dark!geralt#geralt of rivia x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#the witcher#series#au#medieval au#winter's king
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All right, so maybe I went haring off to another fandom for awhile, but I will never fully let go of my STAR WARS fic reading roots because there's just so much incredible fic here and I have such intense feelings about these characters, like how can I possibly truly leave when this fandom knows how to scratch my id just right or make me cry over fictional characters or hyena laugh because you people are very funny? There's just so much fic that is so good that of course I keep coming back! Especially when it comes to Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, there are just so many incredible people making incredible fics for them that feed right back into my love for their twisty, turny, complicated, beautiful, awful relationship.
So here's a bunch of Obikin fic because the fandom is amazing and you should go love them as much as I love them, since you can hopefully completely sate yourself on a bunch of fantastic fic to read! Or idk send yourself into a grief coma because sometimes fic writers are almost as mean as canon was, but in the best way, the way that really hits you in the feelings place. Or idk idk just gorge on all the porn because DANG Obikin fandom brings the porn!
WHAT KIND OF FIC YOU’LL FIND HERE:
FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE
CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED
FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S HEAD
DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT
FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE
WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM
MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT’S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND
WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU
TIME TO CRY ABOUT SOME FICTIONAL CHARACTERS
FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE:
✦ Neutron star collision by thedunesea, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 121k wip
In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker's miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient.
✦ Together in Slumber by ibex_ascendant, obi-wan/anakin, 2.4k wip
Several months after his last confrontation with Darth Vader, Obi-Wan finds himself trapped in a vivid and mysterious mindscape. And he isn't there alone.
✦ Satellite Mind by intermundia, septemberist, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 19.3k
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed, and some secrets, once learned, can never be forgotten. or, Five times Obi-Wan heard Anakin’s thoughts, and one time Anakin heard Obi-Wan’s.
✦ Slow Learner by Is0lde, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 12.6k
Four times Anakin tried to fit Obi-Wan's big dick inside him and one time he managed it. or; the evolution of their sexual relationship.
✦ Redolent of you by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, dom/sub, 31.3k wip
This act of espionage is going to require some class A play at antiquated alpha and omega dynamics, only problem is Anakin has never submitted in his life and it's certainly not within his nature,or so Obi-Wan thinks.
✦ Heal Me, My Darling by wasureneba, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, 12.4k
Anakin gets sick. Obi-Wan takes care of him. For two weeks. Alone. This would be easier if Anakin wasn't quite so gone for Obi-Wan. Or if this didn't involve a daily stab in the shebs.
✦ For He, too, is King by MayMeows, obi-wan/anakin & padme, NSFW, historical au, 7.7k
“I am here to present myself to the man who now calls himself King of my people.” Obi-Wan would be impressed as Anakin’s title as God-King, born from the divine himself, often struck people with awe, terrifying or glorifying, but Queen Amidala’s voice is as strong as her shoulders are squared.
✦ How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by Sharp_Tongue, obi-wan/anakin & mace & yoda & quinlan & palpatine, nsfw, time travel, 23.9k
After defeating Vader on a barren, nameless moon, Obi-Wan had let go of the past. But the past hadn’t let go of him.
✦ (feel like i die) ‘til i feel your touch by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin & yoda & mace & ahsoka, 15.5k
OR; Obi-Wan gets himself cursed and makes it everyone’s, but mainly Anakin’s, problem.
CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED AND/OR DIVERGES:
✦ Yellow Surprise by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 11.1k
When Anakin is distant with him during a simple negotiation mission Obi-Wan jumps to the wrong conclusion, luckily for him Anakin isn't willing to let him go so easily.
✦ A Good Epithet by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 8.2k
Obi-Wan should have been happy. He had fulfilled Qui-Gon’s final wish. He had trained Anakin, he had spent ten years teaching the boy and watching him grow, he had cared for him and scolded him and coddled him by turns. He had, for better or worse, been Anakin Skywalker’s Master.
✦ hold on to this lullaby by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin & rex, 1k
“Anakin,” Kenobi says with a hint of a reprimand in his voice. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” Skywalker staggers further into the room, and a faint blush spreads across his cheeks. He rolls his eyes but it doesn’t do anything to mitigate the color high on his face and the effect it has on his features: a pleased expression flashing clear as ion fire. Having made his way to one of the chairs, he drops down onto it with the elegance of a Hutt.
✦ Any Other World by mysticmjolnir, obi-wan/anakin & vader & leia & reva, NSFW, dimension hopping, 24.2k wip
Anakin has been looking for his Master for a very long time. Finally, on Mapuzo, he finds him.
✦ sea to a desert by maragny, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 3.1k
An interlude and an aftermath; or: how to love someone you seem to have spent half your life loving.
✦ spirit meets the bone by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, time travel, dom/sub, 2k
Or, the Force keeps sending Anakin forward in time from the Clone Wars.
✦ Azúcar, Sudor by Delzi, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, spanking/discipline, 18.6k wip
Anakin can't stand Obi-Wan's new disciplinary tactic, but he absolutely loves it.
✦ Too Hot by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k
Too Hot: A game where two players kiss without stopping and without touching each other. If one player touches the other, that player loses. The winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser.
✦ dream a little dream of me by answersinahauntedclub, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 10.3k
Anakin’s eyes snapped open. Oh no. Oh no. Anakin slumped back into the bed, staring down at himself in horror. Anakin Skywalker had just had a wet dream about Obi-Wan Kenobi. [or—you think you have problems? try having wet dreams of your friend-slash-former-master and then trying to figure out what that’s supposed to mean.]
✦ sea to a desert by maragny, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 3.1k
An interlude and an aftermath; or: how to love someone you seem to have spent half your life loving.
FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S HEAD:
✦ Strings Pulled Taut by preromantics, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k
(AKA Anakin gets a bunch of gunk in his hair, Obi-Wan has been hyper-fixated, and it all bursts like a bubble.)
✦ dark red by wesnenski, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.9k
He feels Obi-Wan before he sees him: a ripple in the Force, a glow of warmth in the darkness. When he appears from the shadows like a bleary-eyed spectre, Anakin can only look up at him, nostrils flared, lip quivering. Here is his Master, tired and gaunt but solid and present and real.
✦ Take Care of Yourself, I Wish I Could by Kefalion, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 7k
While Obi-Wan and Anakin are alone on a planet during a mission, Anakin goes into a presentation heat. One Obi-Wan will not help him through no matter how much they'd both want it. Not that they know that want is mutual.
✦ Fever by dirkygoodness, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, cat boy!anakin, 3.5k
Obi-Wan wakes up to a cuddly (Ny)Anakin and is met with something he isn't expecting. He's going to have to deal with it though. And enjoy himself as he does.
✦ sink into the dunes by stardies, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 9k
[A collection of small Obikin drabbles. Each chapter will have its own one shot.] 01. sfw, anakin’s separation anxiety. 02. first time nsfw. 03. obikin zine piece, sith!obi-wan, jedi!anakin, handjobs.
✦ a necessary respite by Anonymous, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.6k
to be fair, all of this is obiwan’s fault. even though his master is calmly sorting through reports the faint buzz of arousal in the back of both of their heads is majorly coming from him, anakin just can’t help but react to it.
✦ the lean and hungry type by tideswept, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 4.5k
And so is Anakin, really, for being excited about this rather than angry. He wets his lower lip, striving to cohere his thoughts into something that isn’t appallingly horny, when Master speaks. “I’m not in rut,” he says quietly. “I wouldn’t spring that on you.” “I mean,” Anakin pauses. “You could.”
✦ when people show you who they are, believe them by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, spanking, dom/sub, 3k
Anakin has a meeting with the Chancellor. Obi-Wan convinces him to take a slow morning instead.
✦ needs must by silianrail, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, dual sex!anakin, 1.7k
Anakin must be the neediest omega in the entire temple, if not on the entire planet. But if Anakin is needy, what does that make Obi-Wan, who, after all, bends to so many of his padawan’s desires?
✦ Use Me by kittimau, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.5k
Anakin knows what Obi-Wan needs, even if he won't say it.
✦ Insatiable by TheSopherfly, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.8k
Obi-Wan meets Anakin’s eyes with a rueful smile. “You wanted it fast, yes?” “Yes.” Even without their responsibilities looming, Anakin would’ve wanted it like this; quick and dirty, like they just can’t help themselves. “Yeah. Fast is perfect.” “Good,” Obi-Wan says, punctuating the word with a single thrust. “Because I don’t think I’ll last long.” Or; With the twins still asleep, Anakin and Obi-Wan steal some time for themselves.
✦ Hazy Shade of Winter by Lemon (lemon_sprinkles), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.7k
Obi-Wan runs hot; Anakin most definitely does not. Thankfully Obi-Wan is there to warm Anakin up when things get unusually cold in the Jedi Temple.
✦ The Love You Want by passeridae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, potential dub con-esque (read the tags), 6.8k
They've returned to their rooms after sparring, flushed and laughing and close enough that the very air feels heated between them. Once the door has closed, Obi-Wan turns to Anakin, smiling, takes Anakin's jaw in the cup of his hand and kisses him like the first blush of spring. "You'll be good for me, won't you?" he murmurs, and Anakin does nothing more than dreamily nod because he knows just what to do when he's slipped under like this. Knows his job is to be obedient and pliant and good.
✦ Handle Me With Care by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 5.3k
Obi Wan wants Anakin but he knows he shouldn't. He also knows that there is no way he could ever act on it - or so he thought.
✦ tear me apart by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, 2.4k
Obi-Wan uses Anakin in the Council Chamber
✦ A Lesson in Listening by GayCheerios, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, toys, 4.4k
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says simply. Anakin feels chills run down his spine. That tone means everything except simplicity. “Bedroom.” His husband commands.
✦ Keeping Company by Gwendolyn (storiesofchaos), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 11.1k
"So, will you? Will you help me through my heat? Please, I want you to fuck me, Master, I need it." Anakin doesn't care that he's begging already, but he's getting even wetter between his legs and he can't help it. Obi-Wan doesn't seem to mind anyway, because he groans and drags his fingers up into Anakin's hair and tugs slightly, making Anakin gasp. "Force, yes, I'll give you what you need, Anakin."
✦ king unmaker by unbitten, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, transmasc!anakin, royalty au, 4.4k
How to get your King to stop playing hooky from his appointments to make trips to the brothel? Scold him. Stare disapprovingly. Fuck him yourself.
DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT:
✦ Reunion by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/darth vader, ~1k
Some sweetness to help with the absolute agony of Obi-Wan lol
✦ The Jedi Child by RowenaNie, obi-wan/darth vader & luke & leia & cast, NSFW, pregnant!anakin, 48.1k
“The emperor has put my replacement inside of me,” Vader said.
✦ Hand in Unlovable Hand by Rachello344, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, 2.8k
Post Kenobi Part VI: Instead of leaving Vader for dead, Obi-Wan finds himself unable to abandon his dear friend again and so takes him with him. How can Obi-Wan Kenobi live without the other half of himself? Whatever it takes, he will drag Anakin back to himself, kicking and screaming.
✦ dreamscape melodies by egeria, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, 2.9k
"The layers you Jedi wear are ridiculous," Vader grumbled. Obi-Wan let out a huff. "We're in a dream, are we not? Can we not just will our clothes off?" -- or: Vader is in heat and Obi-Wan is in his dream. It's still complicated.
✦ to restrain the darkness by treescape, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, some dom/sub, 2k
Or, Vader wants Obi-Wan to tie him up.
✦ dreams of old by treescape, obi-wan/darth vader, nsfw, 4.1k wip
Obi-Wan surrenders to Vader on Jabiim in exchange for everyone else's freedom.
FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE:
✦ afterimages by shatou, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k
Mustafar is nothing but a bad dream.
✦ Sticky by Delziae, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & rex & cast, NSFW, omegaverse, 25.9k
[Or: In which Anakin is too horny to handle and Obi-wan has a bit less control than he originally thought.]
✦ That Never Wrote To Me by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, omegaverse, 5.3k
After the Rako Hardeen mission, everyone Obi-Wan loves has turned away from him. It’s been months since he’s even seen Anakin, but their bond had been closed off for years. Knowing that Anakin would never want him the way Obi-Wan wanted Anakin had been painful enough, but at least he still had their friendship. And now even that’s gone, and the cold has settled into his bones. Acute Isolation Syndrome is so rare that Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize the symptoms. Doesn’t even realize that he’s dying.
✦ dream a little dream of me by answersinahauntedclub, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & padme, 10.3k
[or—you think you have problems? try having wet dreams of your friend-slash-former-master and then trying to figure out what that’s supposed to mean.]
✦ Stargazing by thegingerwrites, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 21k
Anakin and Obi-Wan have become too well-known on the Holonet to take on undercover assignments anymore. But desperate times call for desperate measures and the Council asks them to make contact with a Separatist defector at a gala hosted on Mandalore. At least the event is a masquerade.
✦ praise you by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 17.9k
An act of insubordination, a crash landing and a trek through the forests of an uncharted planet bring Anakin and Obi-Wan to a very hospitable village. Sure they think Anakin is a god, but really, what's wrong with wanting to be appreciated?
✦ terribly inconvenient and incredibly terrific by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 24.8k
Obi-Wan has the sheer nerve to imply that Anakin is ill-suited for a mission he himself is going on, which means that Anakin will stop at nothing to prove his old master wrong. After all, Anakin can do anything Obi-Wan can do, thank you very much. Even if maybe, just this one time, Obi-Wan is right. This mission relies on the one area of Anakin's life he's never spent much time or effort thinking about: his omega designation and Obi-Wan's alpha one. But there's no way that Anakin is going to back down now. What will Obi-Wan do? Go to the planet with another, non-Anakin omega? Don't make him laugh. He's Obi-Wan's partner. And Obi-Wan is his alpha. Alpha master. Same thing.
✦ and when you look at me, the weight of how i feel is heavy on me by brahe, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & mace & depa & qui-gon & rex & cast, 37.9k
“Jus’ like a sun,” Anakin murmurs, and Obi-Wan has to strain to hear it, almost misses it. He stills. “Beautiful shining sun,” Anakin continues, and presses his face further into the pool of robes. His voice is slow and sleepy, and Obi-Wan realizes he can tell Anakin is about to drop off into sleep. He blinks, lifting his head to stare down at him in something between awe and shock. That seems to be the standard operating procedure when it comes to Anakin, he thinks, a little wry, a little wondrous.
WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM:
✦ a vacationer's guide to being unexpectedly married by treescape, obi-wan/anakin & cast, 7.8k
“A vacation, you need,” Master Yoda had insisted firmly beneath their incredulous stares when they’d first received their instructions. “On a beach, perhaps, hmmm?”
✦ The Lonely Mollusk by temple_mistress, obi-wan/anakin & luke & leia, nsfw, 2k
Obi-Wan was incredibly horny, Anakin was, Force-bless him, more than ready to oblige, and the children were miraculously still sleeping.
✦ looking for trouble by orphan_account, obi-wan/anakin (mentioned obi-wan/anakin/padme), spanking, 1.7k
Anakin gets in a fight. Obi-Wan cleans him up and spanks him.
MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT’S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND:
✦ (I just) died in your arms tonight by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & padme & cast, modern au, 2.5k wip
Where Obi-Wan is still a master of politics and Anakin still fixes spaceships and they’re still irrevocably obsessed with one another.
✦ Win Condition by passeridae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, F1 au, 4.3k
Anakin has just won his first race of his F1 career and Obi-Wan, his longtime trainer and partner, knows just what his boy should get as a reward. (His dick. The reward is his dick.)
✦ Hooked on You by whohatessand, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, 5.2k
With his wife's approaching senatorial election, Anakin Skywalker tries desperately to be the perfect husband she needs. Little does Padmé know, her husband has been sleeping with her campaign manager, Obi-Wan Kenobi, for quite a while now.
✦ we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, fake married, 5.8k wip
He looks up and meets Anakin’s eyes. A thoughtful expression passes over his face. “Married people are paid significantly more,” he says then, slowly, looking at Anakin like he’s trying to solve a riddle. Anakin stares, dumbstruck. “Huh.”
✦ Would You Like Cream With That? by ranianke, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, professor obi-wan, 2.1k
Obi-Wan was a good teacher. His students learned the content, he got flattering reviews (even when you ignored the chili pepper Rate My Professors reviews that he could not seem to get taken down), and he generally liked teaching. Good professors did not sleep with their students.
✦ Pride & Preparation by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, school au, 5.6k
“You’re beautiful,” Anakin praised, making Obi-Wan blush. “And nervous.” Obi-Wan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course I’m nervous.” “You shouldn’t be,” Anakin said easily, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips. “I love you, and this is going to be really fun.”
✦ swear each night to let him go by vorpalstars, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka, NSFW, modern au, professor!obi-wan, 10.3k wip
Anakin develops an unfortunate amount of lust for his literature teacher
✦ Seven Minutes in Anakin by Saratutti, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, dom/sub, 1.9k
Fully enamored doesn't even begin to describe Anakin’s captivation with the gorgeous professor he has stumbled into dating this Christmas season.
✦ The Melody Wakes the Heart by edgeofn1ght, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, 3.5k
However, it's practically love at first sight when Obi-Wan passes a new busker working the alley he passes through every day going to and from work.
✦ Pick-up Games by SingManyFaces, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, 1.1k
Ben’s quiet afternoon is ruined by a basketball player who needs some medical attention. He doesn’t mind too much.
✦ Prompted - Chapter 22: Brakebills by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 10.2k
Anakin Skywalker was not a typical student of Brakebills University for Magical Pedagogy.
WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU:
✦ death by any other name by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon, vampire au, 11.5k
While on a mission during his years as a Padawan, Obi-Wan escapes the tight hold of death transformed into something not quite human. In the years following, he isn’t always so lucky.
✦ Till Human Voices Wake Us by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, mer!anakin, 2.7k
It’s late summer when Obi-Wan first notices a flash of gold between the waves.
✦ Goodbye by Ripki, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon, nsfw, 1.2k
Anakin has no wish to leave Obi-Wan, not when they have just been reunited. Luckily for him, Obi-Wan is good at making their goodbye very memorable.
✦ tender like a bruise by stardies, obi-wan/anakin & cast, omegaverse, 6.8k wip
In a stroke of desperation, Obi-wan mates Anakin Skywalker by force on the fiery planet of Mustafar to stop his Fall and save his life. Taken back to Coruscant and imprisoned, Anakin feels the senate's pressure for justice, and Obi-wan, his mate and former mentor is determined to give him another chance.
✦ canaries underground by TheGoodDoctor, obi-wan/padme & references to anakin/padme & obi-wan/anakin & obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, padme lives, 10k
There are good days, and bad days. This is a good one.
✦ use my body to break your fall by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & mace & yoda & palpatine & cast, NSFW, Not a Jedi!Anakin, Sith!Obi-Wan, 63.5k
Obi-Wan Kenobi is too good at being a Sith Lord general of the Separatist army. The Jedi Council approaches Anakin with an offer he can't refuse. These things are, actually, related.
TIME TO CRY ABOUT SOME FICTIONAL CHARACTERS:
✦ you can't just leave me by amadwinter, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, omegaverse, 1.6k
Anakin swears he’s above his Omega instincts, but when he’s sparring with his Alpha master one day, some wires get crossed that leave him unable to distinguish friend from foe. A primal fear consumes him, and no amount of Jedi training will shake the feeling he needs to escape. He needs to protect himself from the dangerous Alpha circling around him, searching for any sign of weakness. When backed into a corner, an Omega’s last line of defense is their bite. After all, an Alpha would never hurt their mate…
✦ A Little Early, A Little Late by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 7.4k
Anakin finds out he's pregnant. The problem is that his mating ceremony isn't for another four months.
✦ Sweet Surprise by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 12.3k
Obi Wan and Anakin are forced to land on an unfamiliar planet. Anakin is perplexed by everyone's obvious interest in him, unsure what could be causing it. That is, until he receives some unexpected news. The problem is, Anakin's not quite sure he believes it. The other problem is what Obi Wan might think when he finds out.
✦ That Never Wrote To Me by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & vokara, NSFW, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 5.3k
After the Rako Hardeen mission, everyone Obi-Wan loves has turned away from him. It’s been months since he’s even seen Anakin, but their bond had been closed off for years. Knowing that Anakin would never want him the way Obi-Wan wanted Anakin had been painful enough, but at least he still had their friendship. And now even that’s gone, and the cold has settled into his bones. Acute Isolation Syndrome is so rare that Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize the symptoms. Doesn’t even realize that he’s dying.
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Hi I have a request for zombie Steve! I’d love to hear the story of how they met 🫶🏻
zombie!au —You rescue Steve at the start of the end of the world. fem, 2.4k
The sound of them makes your throat close up. Fear like a knife held too tight in unwilling hands, the heat. It’s the hottest summer Hawkins’ has had for years, and you’re overdressed. You couldn’t fit your favourite hoodie in your bag so you wore it but it doesn’t matter, you lost your bag somewhere in the school gymnasium. You’re lucky you didn’t lose your leg when that thing grabbed you. What were they calling them on the radio? Something starting with G.
Those… things, they can kill people. You saw it just ten minutes ago, your algebra teacher turned to a creature, Maisie Lewinsky from your homeroom stained with gore under her hands.
You press the back of your hand to your mouth to stifle a hot gasp. What are you supposed to do now? The Hawkins station said everyone would be waiting here, a repeat radio message, but by the time you heard it the sun was going down and there was nobody left. No cars, no promised convoy, nobody.
You’re the last living girl left in Hawkins.
You’re gonna die in here.
Terrified of breathing to loud but spooked that staying will seal your fate, you lift yourself up from the floor of the science lab to peer over a high table. There’s no signs of life. No signs of the dead, either. You’d thought this might be a good place to hide, the thick fire door unbreakable, but you can’t stay here. It’ll be dark soon.
You wish you had your stuff. They’ve for sure taken anything worth eating from the cafeteria kitchens and Bradley’s has been empty for days. You aren’t sure where your next meal is coming from. Fuck, you’re already dead—
“Fuck!” a voice echoes, boyish and terrified from somewhere outside of the door. “Fuck! Get the fuck away from me, holy shit!”
He sounds scared but firm at the same time. Your own fear is like the insufferable heat, riding the back of your neck as you creep toward the door. There’s gotta be more of them outside. That must be why whoever it is that’s shouting sounds so depeserate. But fuck, there’s relief too. There’s someone still here.
“Fuck! Jesus, help me!”
“Okay,” you say unsurely.
You wedge open the door to the science lab and poke your head out cautiously. There’s a dull thudding sound somewhere to the left, metallic screeching further down, but the panicked shouting (and now panicked yelping) is coming from outside.
You look around for a weapon. There’s nothing to take.
“Holy fuck I do not wanna die!”
Me neither, you think, sniffling back your worried tears. You don’t wanna die, you just want your bed. You want to be home, and safe, but there’s no one to look after you anymore, and you can’t just let people die ‘cos you’re scared. You run from the science lab to the fire escape door full pelt, arm in sudden hot pain at the collision, but the door gives and swings hard into the adjourning wall. You look around frantically for the source of the shouting as it bounces off of the exterior walls of the school and the stone floor of the courtyard, heart suddenly afloat in your chest.
“Hello?” you shout. “I’m here, I’m–”
“What the fuck!”
It’s said with such horrified anger that you give pause, even as your hands shake, cold sweat wetting your lip and colder in the rare afternoon breeze. You dart toward the shouting a moment later, and maybe you’re too late, you can’t save anybody, your shoes pinch as you race down the few concrete steps that lead to the parking lot.
Snarling curdles the air. Your neck snaps left, away from the cars and open territory and toward the subject of your nightmares these last few days. You’ve seen glimpses of these things, always too scared to stay and help, always too stupid, too weak, and seeing them now cements it.
A group of geeks grab at a boy where he hangs from the bars of a metal staircase leading up to the roof of the building. You run toward it on instinct but stop before they hear you, eyes wide. His hands are white-knuckled, his hair falling down into his face, but you know who it is now you’re close enough to see him. You could recognise Steve Harrington a thousand feet away.
“Hey!” you shout. “Hey! Over here!”
Why did you say that? Why are you yelling? The geeks turn their heads to easier pray and you’re done for —they start to run. You stumble back in terror.
“My bag! Get my bag, get the knife!” Steve shouts.
You swing yourself around in a huge circle. There, further into the lot, lies a bag. Further past it lies a wooden baseball bat spiked with fifty silver nails.
You sprint past the bag to the bat and try to grab it while you’re still running, knees grazing hot white fire on the tarmac and hands like acid as you force yourself up again, running further, putting space between you and the too fast footsteps that follow. When you’re sure you’ll have room you swing to see them, their maws dripping gore over white buttoned shirts and once prim blouses. There must be ten of them at least. Only two stay to snap their jaws at Steve Harrington where he attempts to climb up the stairs from the bottom, his foot dangerously close to bloodied teeth.
You pull the bat back as the first of the creatures reaches you. With a grunt more terror than exertion, you force the bat forward, wood arcing through the air, shiny nails catching the light of the setting sun and slamming downward into flesh.
Your eyes flare as wide as they’ve ever been. The geek stops cold and drops, your strangling grip on the bat forcing it up out of the mash of his brains. Another geek leaps over him as you scramble back.
“Run!” Steve yells from the stairs, stress stretching his voice thin and high. “Run away!”
You drop the bat and sprint for your life. Down into the parking lot, past a handful of locked cars and suitcases discarded. This must’ve been where everybody was before they left. There couldn’t have been room. Boxes and trophies, books, magazines and toys, all manner of possessions string like a breadcrumb trail down the road that you have to avoid. You run until your calves are burning over the road that will lead toward Hawkins middle, where you throw yourself into the woods, and hope without any real hope that they’re empty.
Grass folds under your feet. Your panting is as loud as your heart.
When the only shallow breathing you can hear is your own, you circle back to the High School, sticking to the shadows so as not to attract any more attention. A few geeks have collected to join the two you’d left behind, and for a second you’re sure Steve’s succumbed to fatigue and fallen into their blackened clutches, but you spot him balancing dangerously on a handrail between two sets of stairs, leg pulled back in preparation to kick any opposition away.
You sweep up the bat and try to make a plan. You were never going to be able to handle that many people before, not with their new mutations, but you can handle four. Maybe. Probably not.
“Steve, what do I do?” you call. “You have to tell me what to do.”
“You came back!” He swears and shimmies further up the railing as one of his attackers finally manages to traverse the blocked up staircase. “I don’t know what to do! Just hit at them until they die!”
It’s easy for him to say. They’re gruesome creatures, the faces of people you once knew but none of their humanity. They can run as fast as any person can. A human bite has alarming force behind it. The voice on the radio warned you that what you’re trying to do is a bad idea, and yet. You roll the bat in your hand. Your chest aches as hard as your dry throat.
The first geek goes down easy. Unsuspecting, you manage to whack it in the back of the head hard and break through soft skull. The second turns to see you just as you’re lifting the bat again, and it runs hard into it as it comes down, killing itself.
The third is where things get tricky.
“Fuck,” you mumble, lifting your bat to find a sloughing of cartilage and tissue stuck between the spines. “Oh, fuck,” you moan.
“Be careful!” Steve shouts.
You step back and trip, nearly falling. “Stay away from me!”
It snarls in response. Eyes clouded, the geek is a little slower than the others, and it follows you sluggishly away from Steve. The fourth remains, snapping, but you can’t keep watch.
“Stay away from me!” you warn again.
Steve swears on the railing, his cursing followed by a wet thunk.
The geek doesn’t listen, it bites.
You pull your arms to the side, hands wrapped tight around the base of the bat and ready to swing. With a huge, aching cry, you swing the bat to the side and knock the nails clean into its cheek.
It doesn’t die.
Fuck fuck fuck! You throw yourself to the floor by the geek’s feet and out of its reach, on knees, on your feet again, scrambling toward Steve’s bag. You glance over your shoulder as your knees slam down hard into the floor, never so scared in your life, horrified as the bat stays stuck between tendons and the geek takes a running jump toward you.
You pull the knife from Steve’s bag and hold it out in front of you, squeezing your eyes closed in terror.
“Fuck, hey!”
You scream as the weight of the geek lands on top of you. You scream like it’s taking bites of you, until your throat burns and there’s no sound left to make and you choke on it instead. A short, sharp sound.
Then the weight is pulled off of you. Someone lets out a massive gasp.
“Did it get you?”
You blink your eyes open against the glaring white sun where it meets the horizon. If you’re crying, it’s your business, water on your cheek and a dizzy hot feeling everywhere else.
Steve Harrington looks at you like you’re a ghost. “Did it get you? Are you okay?”
You look at your hand and the knife —his knife— where it rests on the tarmac. “I don’t think so. How do you know?”
“They bite! Did it bite you?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
“Because I’m not exactly uninjured, Steve!”
He frowns at you. Well, he glares. “You’d know if it bit you. Don’t be dense.”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“You’re telling me you don’t know what a bite feels like?”
“Some of us had homework.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Is that supposed to be funny?”
Well, yeah. It was supposed to be hilarious.
You look around the parking lot and the school courtyard for any outliers, but the school seems well and truly abandoned now. You can’t hear anymore huffing or screeching, no crying, not even the sound of a radio. Everyone’s been playing them nonstop for weeks, waiting for days like today. Suddenly the raptures here, and you aren’t part of the rescue.
But you saved Steve Harrington, at least. You’re accruing some good karma.
Steve doesn’t hold his hand out, he just grabs you under the arms and pulls you up into a standing position. You’re surprised he can do it, you aren’t light, but you remember his last skins game in the gymnasium and nod to yourself. Of course he can pick you up. Plus, you help, using your legs despite their stiffness to brace yourself on the ground.
“Doesn’t look like it bit you,” he says, quieter now, his hands sliding down to yours briefly before he stands back. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought this was the rendezvous point. I mean, it was, right? We missed it.”
“We missed it.”
“How’d you get here?” you ask.
“Bike. Car chose the worst possible time in the world to die. Not that I could’ve got gas.” He eyes you hopefully. “Tell me you drove here.”
“I biked too, but it’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Tire popped.”
Steve rubs his eyebrows. His hands are clean where yours are caked. You stand unable to mask your heavy breathing now, and when you reach for him to steady yourself, he doesn’t move away.
“Sorry,” you mumble, licking your lips. You’re a map of little pains. “Are you okay?”
Steve’s hand reaches back to cover yours like he’s going to pull it off, though he doesn’t. “Are you alone?” he asks.
You wince. “Yeah.”
“Where’s your stuff?”
“I lost it.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.” Your knees hurt. “It’s gonna get dark soon.”
It’s a question. You’re immediately thankful to have found him, because he’s a real living person, and you don’t think you can do this alone. You don’t mean to force him, but you need to know what he’s doing and soon.
“…Better come with me, then,” he says finally.
Steve walks out of your grasp, grabbing up his bag which you’d unfortunately ripped open and shoving the spilled contents back inside. He doesn’t stop to zip it closed, walking straight in the direction of the school.
“Where are we going?”
“Same place as everybody else.” You stumble. Steve, reluctant, frowning hard enough to etch a new wrinkle, holds out his hand to catch you by the elbow. “Where did you think?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” you say, half-indignant.
“You ask a lot of stupid questions, you know that?” He looks you up and down. “How’d you do that?” He points at your bleeding knees.
“I ask stupid questions?”
He grabs the bat from near the felled geek and stands tall. “Jesus. Let’s go find a car.”
It’s not as easy as his tone might suggest. You don’t find a car, you never do, and you never stop asking him obvious questions, but Steve says thank you for saving him eventually (nearly an entire year later, with a hand on your cheek).
#steve zombie!au#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things
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🗒️ 、 AFTER PARTY !
꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱💭 ・ 이희승 x fem reader. 장르 fluff implied non-idol au friends to lovers warning reader is tipsy hee’s in love & 375 words
ru’s note ・ this was actually written with a bllk chara but hee fits this concept too, reposted from my old acc yoi; in which under the moonlight, he discovered his love for you.
The night was cold, with a chilling wind whispering through the air, causing you to clutch your jacket, yearning for additional warmth. You were on your way home, accompanied by Heeseung after a delightful evening spent with friends.
The decision to forgo the car was deliberate; an inexplicable desire to walk amidst the enigmatic dangers that lay hidden in the darkness had taken hold of you. Understanding your inclination, Heeseung willingly joined you, ensuring your safety.
In your slightly tipsy state, courtesy of the libations consumed earlier, Heeseung thoughtfully draped his arm over your shoulder, preventing any inadvertent collisions with lampposts or obstacles. Progressing past shuttered establishments, their doors securely locked, you caught sight of a handful of illuminated 24-hour stores dotting the quiet streets.
Silent footfalls carried you both through the nocturnal landscape until you found yourselves standing at the entrance of a modest park, an intermediary on your journey home. In this moment, an inexplicable desire to dance enveloped you, compelling you to seize Heeseung’s hand. And lo and behold, before you stood a graceful fountain, its ethereal presence heightened by the feeble glow of a solitary streetlamp.
“Seung-Ah, dance with me,” you whispered, an impish smile playing on your lips as you met his puzzled gaze.
Embracing the whimsy of the moment, you seized the lead, swaying side to side, hands entwined with an invisible thread of shared joy. The rhythm of your movements carried you through spins and twirls, your laughter blending with the night’s gentle serenade.
Yet, the intoxicating effects of the evening’s libations betrayed your balance, causing a momentary stumble. In that instant, Heeseung’s reflexes kicked in, his arms swiftly encircling your waist, preventing your fall. His eyes, softened with tenderness, witnessed your laughter, a sight that tugged at his heartstrings.
As you regain your composure, you reciprocate his steadfast support, grasping his hand and propelling yourselves forward, hastening toward the warmth and comfort of your shared sanctuary. Giggles of pure delight escaped your lips, floating on the night breeze like ephemeral notes of happiness. And in that fleeting moment, as thoughts danced through Heeseung’s mind, he realised a truth that stirred his soul.
“Oh,” he thought, a warmth swelling within, “So this is what being inlove feels like.”
#𓂃⠀⠀⋆ ᝰ🖋️ ܸ#( literature )#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#enhypen x y/n#enhypen fluff#enhypen scenarios#enhypen heeseung#enhypen lee heeseung#lee heeseung#heeseung lee#heeseung#heeseung x reader#heeseung x you#heeseung x y/n#heeseung fluff#heeseung imagines#ethan lee#enha#enha x reader#enha x you#enha x y/n#enha fluff#enha heeseung#enha scenarios#enha imagines
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Silk & Cologne
Hobie Brown x Silk!Reader Relationship Headcanons.
Pairing: Hobie Brown x Silk! gn Reader/ Spider-Punk x Silk! gn Reader
Word count: 3.8k
Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, TW blood, TW needles, TW injuries, canon typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, Kinda soulmate AU.
*I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*
You meet Hobie while you're running away from his team of spider-people.
You are an anomaly who accidentally entered a different dimension from yours, but you didn't know that at the moment. Your biggest worry right now are the various spider-people going after you for some reason.
Running and swinging from unfamiliar rooftops, you feel an invisible rope tug at you, this is probably your silk sense telling you where to go, you thought, so you follow it on instinct.
Unbeknownst to you, Hobie Brown aka Spider-Punk feels the exact same invisible rope pull him towards somewhere. He just got out of the inter-dimensional portal when he felt an unfamiliar feeling.
Also thinking it's his spidey senses keeping him on his toes, he follows it. He ignores all the calls from his comms to follow his instincts.
You both swing towards the mysterious pull, until you both almost collide in the air with each other.
You and Hobie both lean away last minute from each other to prevent the collision.
Your eyes lock with his for the first time.
You both feel the invisible rope stop pulling, it's replaced by longing and an unidentified urge.
As you both swing in the air you get a good look at each other. Time seems to be in slow motion as you both swing in a circle just watching each other.
The others catch up to the both of you, stopping at a nearby rooftop, watching you both curiously.
"What the hell am I watching?" Gwen Stacy asks as she watches you circle each other.
"Looks like some sort of mating dance" Peter B. Scratches his neck.
"Oh God, they're a silk variant, Lyla, Get Miguel and tell him to bring the silk blockers, this could get ugly" Jess says in her comms.
"Ohh, Dramaa. Miguel's on his way" Lyla reports.
It seemed to be hours just circling each other, waiting for either one of you to make a move.
Suddenly you both get tackled at the same time, landing on a dirty rooftop, you bite and scratch at the assailant.
You see from your peripheral that he's getting manhandled by someone in a blue suit, you watch as he quickly injects something in him, that makes your stranger go limp. The same invisible pull you felt dulls a little bit.
You turn back to the woman holding you down, your eyes widen before she plunges the needle with the same color in your neck.
Darkness wraps you immediately. The last thing you see is the sunlight bouncing off the metal on his suit.
You wake up from the noise of different voices arguing.
You're in a futuristic prison of some sort, you listen to the conversation for some answers, the magnetic pull seems to get stronger every second.
"Hobie you didn't see how they reacted, they're like feral or something!" Gwen pleads.
"Yeah, because you bloody tackled them!" Hobie uncharacteristically screams at Gwen.
"Let them go now" He demands Miguel.
"Don't you see Hobie, you're already captivated, it's because you were both bitten by the same radioactive spider, it created an irresistible attraction between you two, it will overwhelm you once the blockers I injected in both of you wears off" Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose "You two are linked together. You need to take this pheromone blocker to see reason"
You see him hold a blue pill.
"Take it before you become a danger to yourself and them" Miguel points at you.
They all look towards you, now awake, your pupils blown up like a balloon, with all the eyes on you, your only attention is on the leather clad form.
Hobie looks at you then to the pill, every second he wastes not taking the medication, he feels the pull towards you get stronger, it's almost painful.
Listening to Gwen, he grabs the pill quickly downing it.
He sighs as the pressure subsides.
Hobie feels like himself again.
You sigh as you feel it too, the pain without him next to you dulls. It's like an itch you can't scratch.
Hobie crouches next to you.
You lock eyes, the attraction still there, but you both don't have the animalistic need to be with each other.
"They need to take it too, so the medicine can take full effect" Miguel gives Hobie an identical pill.
"Where am I? Who are you?" You meekly speak for the first time.
"My name's Hobie Brown, apparently we were bitten by the same spider, we're linked with each other," Hobie looks towards Miguel "open it, they won't do anything"
"How'd you know?" Miguel raises his brow.
"I just know"
Miguel deactivates the orange glow around you.
You stand up to your full height, Hobie mirrors your movement. He hands you the pill, your hands brush against each other, electricity cackles around Hobie's hand.
You swallow it down dryly. Feeling the pressure completely alleviate, you finally feel normal.
Hobie feels the same, he still feels connected to you, somewhat. Like a lingering aftertaste. But there's no feeling of suddenly jumping your bones in front of everyone.
"Okay, now where the hell am I?" You push past Hobie, he gets surprised with your sudden change of tone.
Miguel gives you the spidey orientation added with some context on silk variants.
Learning that you were bitten by the same spider feels kinda weird. Like how Lyla put it simply "it's like your soul mates, kindred spirits" then she sighs while holographic hearts float above her head.
Then finding out what you both felt hours ago, was actually an animalistic urge to mate? That is the weirdest thing ever.
After hearing the word mate leave Miguel's mouth, you take a step further away from Hobie, you just met the man and you were ready to rip off each other's clothes the second you saw each other?
Miguel, the boss of the entire spider society, you just learned, offered you a place in their elite group. As long as you and Hobie keep taking the medication of course.
You accept the offer. A few hours ago, you thought you were the only person with spider powers, being locked in a bunker alone for almost ten years makes you lonely. Now that there's an entire team who understands you and a man who's basically your soulmate you cannot say no.
You don't want to be lonely ever again.
You've been part of the spider society for a few weeks now, becoming friends with the other spider people.
You were afraid of coming out of your assigned room for the first few days just in case there's another spider-person out there who was bitten by the same radioactive spider. You definitely don't want to ever feel that way again.
Miguel tasked you to train so you could hone your skills.
In your surprise you see Hobie in the training room, honestly you were avoiding him, with how weird you two first met, who wouldn't?
"O'hara, really?" You glare at Miguel.
Weirdly enough, you and Miguel have become fast friends, probably because he keeps you closely monitored in case your 'charms' go haywire again.
You call it your 'charms' since you didn't like that everyone called it pheromones, it gave you the ick.
"Being in close proximity to each other helps in training you in keeping your urges in check" Miguel informed you both, "you've taken both your meds, right?"
"Yes bossman, otherwise I would be all over them right now" Hobie teases you both.
You almost broke your own neck with how fast you turned to look at Hobie.
Miguel sighs "Whatever just keep it PG" He leaves, the doors hiss closed once he stepped outside.
"I like your suit" Hobie breaks the ice as he roams his eyes over your form.
"Thanks, I made it from my own webbing" you lift your arms to show it off.
"That's -"
"Please don't say hot"
"I was gonna say punk rock, but that works too"
Ignoring his last comment, you walk towards the console to start up the training simulation.
"You've been avoiding me" he says matter-of-fact.
"Hmm, I wonder why" you play with the console's settings, continuing in ignoring him.
Suddenly you feel strong arms caging you in, you turn around, and find yourself trapped by Hobie, your back gets blocked by the console so you don't have anywhere else to go.
Your breath hitches in your throat. You can feel his warmth with how close he is. You look up at him through your eyelashes.
"It bothers you then? Our connection" Hobie tilts his head in question.
"No it doesn't, it's just weird and awkward. I've already wasted ten years of my life locked up, I don't want a spider defining the rest of it, do you?" Despite your brain telling you to just swing away, you fight it off and speak your mind.
Hobie smirks, oh how he likes that fire, he intends to feed it, let it spread, he would let it burn him as long as he gets to see the real you without the pheromone fog clouding his thoughts.
"No I don't, but we've both been away from each other for a while, and yet you still feel it don't you? The want to be near each other, the need to protect each other" Hobie rambles on, "I think it's our shared spider senses telling us something, it would be a shame to not explore it"
"What a shame, then" taunting him, you lean up closer, your breaths mixing with each other.
Suddenly Miguel's booming voice surrounds the large training grounds "LEAVE ROOM FOR THE HOLY SPIRIT!"
You both pull away snickering at Miguel's comment.
No matter how hard you try to ignore what Hobie said you can't, because he's right, even though you take the medication, you still feel him. Every time he goes back to Nueva York, for some reason you feel his presence even though you didn't see him around the building; same goes for when he leaves, you feel some sort of emptiness inside you.
You ask Miguel whether his medication isn't completely working.
"It's not the medication's fault, there'll always be that lingering feeling. You're connected to each other, whether you like it or not" Miguel has his back turned to you, "best to just ignore it"
You huff at his comment, dissatisfied with his answer.
You try to ignore him, you do but it's basically impossible since you're friends with his friends and you both work at the same place. You keep seeing him EVERYWHERE.
Hobie does it on purpose though, whenever another spidey gets partnered up with you on a mission, he convinces them to swap with him.
"You, again?!" You scoff. "Lyla said I would be partnered up with Noir this time"
"He had something come up," Hobie shrugs. "Right Lyla?"
Lyla appears suddenly "yep, some goons to punch and what not"
"Ugh!" You swing away.
Hobie winks at Lyla as she shapes a heart with her hand.
Whenever you come to the mess hall with a long line of hungry spider-people, Hobie's already sitting down with an extra tray of food next to him. He nonchalantly looks at you with a smug smile on his lips.
You would ignore his invitation but he's always with backup, he would be with Gwen or Pavitr, whom you have grown fond of over the last few months. So you reluctantly swing towards them.
It also doesn't help that he's your assigned trainer, all the lingering looks and touches when he's correcting your form, wakes up the butterflies in your stomach.
You spend so much time with him, it's impossible to ignore the feeling.
Hobie loves leaving you cd's of movies and music you missed from the last decade in your dimension. He drops it on your doorstep every chance he's got.
One time you got hurt while on a mission without Hobie, you tried to hide the deep gash on your shoulder from your team, but of course you stubbornly deny it.
Entering the inter-dimensional portal, you feel the stabbing pain on your shoulder. Ignoring the pleas from your team, you give them a pained smile, telling them that your enhanced healing will fix it.
When you reach the hallway where your room resides, you see Hobie leaning on your door, you feel the magnetic pull towards him. With no choice but to confront him, despite the pain, you saunter towards your door with your head held up high.
"I don't remember ordering a doormat" You tease him, You felt a chill run through your body from the pain and blood loss.
"I felt that y'know, the cold" He stares at you seriously. "I felt the exact moment you got injured, I never want to feel that ever again" he straightens up, anticipating what comes next.
"Hobie I'm - " You feel nauseous, you fall towards him, he catches you in one swift motion.
"Stop being so bloody stubborn. Let me help you please" He softly says right next to your head.
You shift your head to look at him directly, memorizing every detail of his face, counting every single one of his piercings.
He shakes you out of your stupor, "Oi, stay awake for me, yeah?"
You swallow down the pain, "Okay, Hobie, you can help me"
Without missing a beat he carries you towards the med bay, expertly weaving through spider-people.
The entire time you were in the med bay, he was there with you, with every stitch to close your wound, he was there. You instinctively reached for his hand to hold on to.
When you finally woke up, he was sitting on a chair next to your bed, asleep. You take note of his hand still holding yours. You watch him, his chest moving up and down, taking note of every single detail of his suit, every crease of his boots; the different pins he has on his vest. You count every callus he has on his fingers.
Oh
When Miguel finally approves your proposal to finally go back to your own dimension. Now that you're both stable enough to be around each other; your stomach flips when you remember it's also Hobie's dimension.
With your reintegration back to society, you ask Jess, (the only adult you trust) to help you in finding a place to live in. And possibly a Job, to feel like a normal human again.
Thanks to Jess your transition back to your own dimension was pretty smooth. You still feel the pull here and there, but now you've gotten used to it. So used to the feeling and his presence, you didn't notice him perched on your windowsill.
"Nice place you got here" Hobie whistles.
"Christ!"
"Just me, lovey" he takes off his mask and enters your abode. "D'you need a doormat?" Hobie holds a brown rectangle in his hand.
"What?" You take it from hobie with a raised brow, "Come back with a warrant" laughing once you read it out loud.
"Glad you liked it, nicked it from another flat" Hobie smiles hearing your laugh, he goes towards your fridge to rummage through it.
"Wait, what! Please don't tell me it's from a neighbor" You follow him, opening the freezer, showing him different kinds of soda he can choose from.
" 'Course not, got it from another building in a nicer neighborhood" he opens a can of orange soda.
"So you basically swung around the city, holding this" you hold up the doormat. You must like me a lot. You wanted to add but you bite your tongue.
"Yeah, what of it?" He rummages through your cupboards. "You got any food in this dump?"
You roll your eyes, knowing his schedule you hand him a packet of biscuits for his patrol. You wish he could stay though.
Whenever you're both free from your responsibilities and obligations, Hobie mysteriously appears in your flat, holding a dvd of another movie you missed and a large bag of popcorn, three feet tall, how and where in the world did he even get that?
Sometimes though you're the instigator, instead of movies and a comically large popcorn, you bring him to different places around the city. Museums, a walk in the park, cafés, and concerts of bands that Hobie likes (that you like too but you don't specifically tell Hobie that)
When you're swinging together on patrol, you point at places that have changed since you were in your bunker. Telling him stories about your experiences in some places.
Whenever you feel hungry, sad or in pain, Hobie feels it too. He's there waiting for you and you do the same thing for him. You take care of each other.
Once you two got bored in your flat and decided to make a conspiracy/theory board on how and when you two got bit by the same spider. Both of you were so invested in it, you didn't sleep till five am.
You woke up from the soft snores and the strong arms around you. You force one eye open, the first thing you saw was the large board you two made, riddled with pins, and pictures of places you've both been to all connected with red strings tied around the pins.
You hear him snort in his sleep, you smile softly. Cuddling further onto his chest. He hugs you tighter, half lidded eyes looking down on you.
"First I was a doormat, now a pillow" He says in his gravelly voice from just waking up.
"Go back to sleep or you'll be a punching bag next"
You were in Nueva York, just hanging around with Gwen, when suddenly you felt a painful pang in your chest. You hold on to a nearby wall to steady yourself.
"You okay?" Gwen asks.
"I think -" another stabbing pain but in your skull this time. Your eyes widen in realization.
You look up at Gwen "Hobie" you gasp, swinging towards Miguel's command center. Gwen following your move.
You didn't waste a second once you landed in his area. "Where's Hobie?!" You scream in your urgency for him to answer you quickly. Miguel's up on his platform, his back turned.
"They didn't ask for backup, stand down, Silk" he watches his numerous monitors.
"I don't give a shit, O'hara! Tell me which dimension!" You demand.
Miguel finally turns to you, he looks down on you menacingly "I said stand down"
You feel the pull again, a lot stronger this time, it's a primal need to protect him.
Gwen, noticing the tension in the air, decides to simmer it down. "It's okay Miguel, we uh, understand we'll wait for them to call for backup" she stares at you to wordlessly say: play along.
"Fine" you say, faking a smile.
Miguel grunts and finally turns around back to his monitors.
Gwen subtly knocks your shoulder with hers.
Lyla appears on a nearby table, hiding behind a console, she beckons you over.
You crouch in front of her, she puts her index finger on her lips, she summons a board out of thin air, written on it is the dimension where Hobie is.
You mouth a thank you to Lyla. She makes a heart with her hands.
Wasting no time, you run away from Miguel, finding a spot to open a portal, Gwen and you swing towards it quickly.
Once transported, smoke and chaos greet you. Your eyes roam around the area where various spider people swing around the giant mech of an octopus, clambering up the buildings.
You panic, not seeing the familiar glint of his spikes.
"Gwen go help the others, be careful" you instruct her.
"Go find him" She nods.
Without being able to see him, you panic, so you use the invisible web that ties you both together. Closing your eyes, you concentrate on finding the other end of the web. You try to remember his smell to help you in locating him.
Reaching the end of the rope you finally feel him, you can hear him breathing out slow breaths, you feel every cut and bruise on his body. A tear slides down your cheeks, but you don't have time, so you swing towards him.
Dodging mechanical octopus arms, you ignore Miguel's orders ringing from your armband.
You finally reach him inside an abandoned restaurant. He's sitting down on the floor, back against the cashier counter, his head down low, chin on his chest.
He looks up at you the moment he feels your presence.
"You come 'ere often?" He jokes despite the pain.
"Hobie Brown, you're an idiot" you walk towards him.
"Yeah, but you're the one who came here, so who's the bigger idiot?" He coughs out the last part of his sentence.
You carefully grab his chin to assess the damage. His mask torn from the side, his brilliant brown eyes now dull, you get a glimpse of a dark red gash on his chest.
"Let's get you out of here, okay?" You hold his face, keeping him awake with your touch.
"Have I ever told you that You're the most gorgeous person I've ever seen?" He managed to get out.
"No, but you show it often," you smile. "Will you let me help you?"
He gives you a blood soaked smile, "Yeah, you can help me, love"
You both feel the tug and pull of the web, straining against itself, now taut, it finally breaks.
You kiss him on his bloodstained lips, ignoring the taste of iron. He kisses you most fervently.
You feel like a dam just broke in you, overflowing your senses with just Hobie flooding every fiber of your being.
Hobie feels rejuvenated, like he can get back out again and fight the giant octopus by himself.
You both pull away for air. Gasping and staring in each other's blown out eyes. Hobie leans forward and kisses you again, as if he hadn't seen you in years.
"We need to take out doc oc" Hobie whispers against your lips.
As if on cue, the octopus mech falls down on the ground with a loud crash, followed by the cheers of the spider-people.
"Guess they didn't need us" you chuckle.
You hold him up by his arms, slinging one on your shoulder, you help him up.
The sunlight greets you both as you step out of the building.
You hear Gwen yell out your names. She drops down gracefully.
"You're both Okay!" She bounces on her feet in happinesses.
"It takes more than that to kill me, Gweny" Hobie holds on to you tighter.
Gwen opens a portal back to Nueva York. You all step in.
You sigh in relief when the three of you finally reach the med bay. You get Hobie admitted, you hold his hand the entire time he gets treated. Thank goodness for 2099 medicine.
He finally falls asleep, still holding your hand. Miguel enters the room, one angry look from you, he grunts as if to say 'another time then' before leaving you both.
When he woke up you made sure that the first thing he sees is your face.
"Hey, trouble" his gravelly voice making you smile in relief.
"You're okay?" Tears threaten to spill over your eyes.
"Come 'ere," Hobie brings out his arm so you don't crush it as you lay down next to him. He moves his head towards you for a kiss, you close your eyes, anticipation flooding your senses.
His kiss reminds you that you'll never be truly alone in this world.
A/n: that awkward moment when you realise that you almost accidentally wrote an a/b/o fic lmao I had so much fun writing this! Couldn't even sleep without finishing it up. Is this still technically a headcanon when it's this long lol. Hope you liked it! As always comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated ❤️
*image above is from pinterest*
#hobie brown x reader#spider punk x reader#spider punk#atsv fanfiction#hobie brown#spider man across the spider verse#x reader#hobie brown x gn!reader#spider punk x gn! reader#hobie brown x silk!reader#spider punk x silk!reader#tw blood#tw needles#tw injury#atsv x reader#soulmate au#silk!reader#the kr8tor's creations#hobie brown headcanons#spider punk headcanons#fanfic#hobie brown x you#spider punk x you
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— BLEED FOR ME | part iii
[masterlist]
mand’alor!vampire!din djarin x f!reader
rated e - 2.4k
haunted hoedown prompts: vampire!au + “i would burn the world for you.” + vampire has a taste for specific blood + revenge + (one-sided) enemies to lovers (+ 1 to be revealed!)
tags: vampire!au, drinking blood, reader has scar on shoulder, mentions of death, shared memories, light angst, references to seduction, sexual innuendo and thoughts, references to violence
The days until the winter solstice tick down. Early Autumn days start to cool at night.
You sleep under the last warmth of the sun, with windows drawn open after he leaves. The canopy is wrapped around your bed, letting in the afternoon breeze but mimicking the darkness.
And still, you feel adrift. That funny feeling is still settling in your stomach. Rolling with the sway of your step as you follow at the Mand'alor's - Din's - heels.
No longer seating across the room in the throne room. Now next to him, in a golden seat that matches his silver one.
Listening as he conducts his business. Trades and agreements, settled firmly and carefully. A disagreement, broken up without violence.
It’s fascinating.
But it feels... wrong. Your own task seeps into the honor of being at his side, polluting it. You're expected to enjoy it, to look happy, and it's become all too easy to forget what happened - why you were here.
Too wrapped up in the quiet questions he asks, in those moments of dusk and dawn. Half truths becoming whole as you guard slowly lowers. As you begin to learn about him, as well.
Things he tells you. Things you pick up, absorbing greedily without thought.
It feels like a betrayal, later.
How could you forget what happened? How could you forget your promise?
His kindness only extends because you are physically keeping him alive. You should have ended things by now.
But, you haven't.
The guilt gnaws at you. Seeping into your dreams, into those moments of connection, when your eyes can't help but close.
The images so much more vivid, now. Almost a tangibility to them - the quick, blurred edges coming into focus. Repeating, growing longer.
So much seems to focus on that night. You think it's because it still haunts you. Replaying how the shouts had awoken you. That startled feeling as you crawled out of bed.
The shadows on the walls, the weak and watery grey sky. Soon turning red, and then black - with flame and smoke.
A glint of gold. Your grandmother's necklace, lying on the bedside table. A photo of their wedding day inside, painted with such care.
Something you wish you could have saved - one of the few relics from your family, a gift from when you had left them to find your purpose.
You had always wished for a love like theirs. A fated connection.
There’s a throb as you remember the collision - something solid that knocked you to the ground. Fingers coming back sticky, your mouth tasting of copper. The visions always swim, then.
Parts you've never been able to remember, before. Always growing dim, until you'd been woken up under the tree, and it was over.
But lately, there's more. As if you're outside your own body. The limp sway of your arm, dangling as you were carried. The murmur of a low voice, though you can’t make out the words. Dark eyes looking down at you, almost brown in the morning light.
There's a sharp edge of a knife that you always walk.
Torn between pressing, nudging - trying to get get a glimpse of the vampires, the destruction. A way to remind yourself what has happened, why you are here.
And then, not wanting to see.
What if it's something you can't take back? What if it disgusts you so much that you can't help but act in that exact moment - ruining your chance?
So, you don't.
You let the images pass - carefully collecting them. Pressing them lkke flowers between a book, something to come back to layer. Not even realizing that deep, deep down...
You’re really just hoping that you don't see him.
You really shouldn’t have gone down to the kitchens.
A heat still burns in your cheeks at the thought, when you finally made your way back to your room. Your treasure procured - a freshly baked pastry with homemade jam clutched in your fingers.
The food here is the best you’ve ever had. You can admit that, at least. All the Companions are well-fed, with treats and delicacies always left out downstairs.
It’s here, that you had found a few others.
Beautiful men and women, all gathered around a smoldering fire as the sun had begun to rise. Their other halves flitting off to hole up until nightfall.
But just like you - there was a desire to see the sun, at least.
You had joined them, half out of loneliness and half intrigue. They had accepted you quickly, stifled laugher and glances over their shoulder as they had whispered questions.
“So how is the Mand’alor? I’ve always wondered.”
“You don’t have any marks. Does he drink from your-”
An elbow then to her side, her words had cut off with a giggle. A head turned- an aside to her friend.
“Lady Kryze is always so thorough. I haven’t slept in days.”
Someone else had sighed.
“What I wouldn’t give to be Lord Fett’s Companion.”
You had realized there’s desire in their words. That none of them were afraid, that there was a sense of private camaraderie and knowing amongst them.
That unsettling, confused feeling comes back. They were human, like you. Did they not know what the vampires did? Were they so shallow that coin and finery had bought their loyalty?
Their eyes were on you, expectant. You had no choice but to shrug with embarrassment.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
They were quick to set you straight.
“It’s like, a feeling, you know?”
“You have to lean into it. That connection.”
“The first time I tried it, I had marks up and down my thighs by morning.”
There was an eagerness that laced with jealousy, leaving you even more bemused than before. Faking a prior engagement as you had left them, promising to give it a try.
Privately, you told yourself you wouldn’t.
You couldn’t.
Looking back, you can’t even remember the taste of the jam, what fruit it was. All you could think about is this new facet of their relationships.
Wondering if that will be expected of you. Wondering why you weren’t warned.
Wondering if you cared.
Wouldn’t that be a good way to get closer?
The thought makes you uneasy.
You’d put an end to this. But you weren’t so cold-hearted to stoop to seduction. That wouldn’t be fair, to Din.
But as the sun rises, when he comes back.
When his mouth is pressing against your wrist, when you’re looking at the bow of his lips and the wide breadth of his armor, that wondering comes again.
The thoughts creep in.
For he is handsome… the parts of him you have seen. A rich voice and the breadth of his shoulders in his armor. The little upward tick of his lips in a rare smile.
And you are human, after all.
You find yourself imagining marks on yours thighs, on the soft curve of your neck.
How your blood would throb, rushing down to pool beneath heated skin - wet and swollen. The thud of your heartbeat kicks up a notch, as your thighs press together. As you squirm in your seat.
You don’t know his face but you do know his mouth. It’s his teeth you picture sinking into your skin, your mind nudging curiously at the thought.
It sends a jolt down your spine. Pricking at your skin, heat licking at your chest and down to your belly. Then slipping lower. Your breath catches in your throat-
His grip on you tightens, then. It’s almost painful - startling you. A hushed cry rattles from your lungs as he pulls back with a rough gasp.
“Ulyc, cyar’ika.” Din’s voice is ragged, as his hips shift upward - letting go, as you pull your wrist back to your chest, “I’m sorry. But you can’t-”
He doesn’t get the chance to finish his thought. A knock at the open doorway, Boba’s face grave as it turns your way.
“Mand’alor.” His voice is low, his brows drawn together. “The city, it calls for you.”
Din’s chest still heaves, his hand dragging across his mouth as he composes himself. The helmet sliding back into place as he stands, but still keeping himself close to you.
“Wolves?” He asks.
Boba shakes his head, “Raiders, from the looks of it. Like before. I can send someone, or go myself.”
You forget about the pain, about everything, for just a second. The thought of the town below in ruins sends you back to a year ago, sorrow twisting through your chest.
It has you half-standing, but Din’s hand is pressing against your shoulder, carefully easing you back down.
“I’ll go.” His voice is firm, “This has gone on long enough.”
A second, as he turns to you, “I need to take care of this. Boba will look out for you while I’m gone.”
Something like worry creeps in. Aware of the weak light that slips through the cracks of your curtains, how soon it will be morning.
“The sun…” You begin hesitantly, and he’s stepping closer.
“I’ll be fine.” His fingertips touch your jaw and that has you looking up - wishing once again that you could see his eyes.
Giving him just a small nod, instead.
From your window you watch him leave. The glint of his silver armor in the morning sun, now - his movements practiced as he swings a leg over the slate-grey horse.
Drawing his sword - the metal dark and gleaming and looking almost alive, even as far away as you are.
Watching as he gallops down the path, racing off to ward away the threat.
Leaving you inside the castle, to wait.
You worry turns into something else, as the hours pass.
Anger, at the thought of him rushing off to save this town, when he had launched an attack on yours. Did human life mean so little?
Did he even think about the bodies that had lied littering the streets, the memories that has been torn down?
Was it only because these humans were complicit, that they were spared?
You had awoken to screams. You don’t know if your town had even been asked.
The mark on your wrist stays red, unhealed. A reminder while he is gone. That you’ve slipped too far, that you need to get over the tender feelings you’ve pretended not to notice.
They fester inside your chest. You dream about him while he’s gone, as the day bleeds into another.
His face bare, features blurry above the lips and nose you know so well. Leaving you to wonder if his eyes are red, like the glimpses you’ve gotten of Lady Kryze? Are they burgundy, like Boba’s?
Replaying the sound he had made, the morning that he left. The edge his voice takes just after he feeds, lasting through the few moments he stays afterwards. That pulsing, thudding beat that leaves you squirming, when you’re alone again.
Leaving you with the urge to sink your own teeth into something.
Those thoughts are ruled by your heart, not your mind, not your logic. Another betrayal, your eyes unable to help flicking towards the window, again and again.
Looking to the others throughout the day, checking for any news or weakness.
A sign that he’s fallen.
None come.
You try not to think about the relief that follows. Or why you feel listless, your eyes dragging over the same words in the books you pick up, in an attempt to pass the time.
Your enthusiasm for the food waning - more in tune than ever with the hours that pass.
Still wondering about the town, below.
You had spoken to some, in your journey here. They had been good people, honest folk.
Maybe along the way, there had been a mistake. An itch in your brain that you haven’t been able to scratch, irritating you since you arrived.
You’ve decided to ask Fennec about it.
Not about anything that would raise suspicion.
Just why the Mand’alor himself would feel the need to go alone. What sort of promise he had made, to go rushing off with such intensity?
Maybe then, you could understand.
You find her by accident - in a large ballroom that you often cut through.
The ceiling painted in a wash of colors, accented in gold. Seraphs lying on clouds and sprawling gardens and somehow always feeling bright, even in the dim room.
Liking the way your feet echo, in the empty room. A swing in your step as if you were dancing too, even if just pretend.
But you’re not alone today - she sits in one of the plush alcoves. Arms bared where her shirt pushes up, a dark jerkin slung over one of the marble statues that line the walls.
"I'm sorry-" You manage, attempting to back out of the room. The moment looked private - your question could wait.
Her eyebrow lifts, looking unbothered, "You can come in, I'm just preparing."
The way she lounges is casual, as if she does this regularly. Propped up against a nest of pillows, a book opened against her bent knees. An arm draped to the side, an ooze of red that drips down to a half-full goblet below.
A jar of that same salve Din had given to you sits in the open windowsill, for after. A means to wipe the mark from her skin, to knit it neatly together again.
The sight makes your stomach turn, even after all this time.
"Are you leaving, too?" Your head nods towards the cup, as you linger in the doorway - thinking about what Boba had said about her ferocity.
Her brows pinch in question, as you gesture to her arm.
"No," Fennec's head shakes, as she understands. "This is our arrangement."
"I didn't know you could do it another way." You say this without thought - wondering if this had been what Din was offering, that first night. An alternative to biting - another small attempt at adjusting to your comfort.
"I tried the usual way." She shrugs, eyes dropping down at the text, "This is better, for us. It's tedious, for certain. But I've never enjoyed the connection. Boba's memories are..."
Fennec searches for the word, as you go still, "...Unpleasant. And I am sure mine are worse."
His memories.
Is that what you've been seeing? Those flashes of thought that blend with your own, when his teeth sink into your skin?
But how can they be, when you are in them?
"But, I am sure that's different for you." Her expression is sly, lips curving in a small smirk. A sharp glimmer replacing the far-away look in her eyes, coming back from her own evocation.
"What do you mean?" You ask, your voice sounding far away.
Dazed, as if the words are taking their time on their trip from your thoughts to your tongue.
That look comes back. As if you're on two different brainwaves, as if she isn't understanding what you're asking.
"Well, I thought that would be obvious. We’re not like you…" Fennec frowns, her head tilting. A breath, as she clarifies.
"Boba isn't my mate."
Ahh and the last Secret Prompt from the list is soulmates / fated mates! 💕 thank you so much for reading! If you’d like a tag for the last 2 parts, please let me know!
Ulyc, cyar’ika - “careful, beloved”
(Tags: @dameron-grant-spector, @sugadolly, @writingsofestella, @spaceydragons, @-ohsolovely-, @survivingandenduring, @queenquazar, @alitaar, @dindjarinsslut, @avarkriss)
#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin imagine#haunted hoedown#hauntedhoedown
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in the moment we’re lost & found
Featuring— albedo, kaveh, zhongli, dainsleif
⤀ gn!reader, reincarnation au but also a some soulmate au vibes (?), dark / light academia themed
a/n: i picked charas i thought would suit the aesthetic cus my favorite flavor of reincarnation au has to do with art and museums / luv history + art + museums + galleries !
— 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎
as an up-and-coming artist, albedo is a rising star in teyvat’s art world, but lately he’s been haunted by a face he sees only in his dreams. it’s unclear, and it drives him insane that he can’t quite make out all the details of this mysterious figure. albedo, whose artwork is notoriously lifelike, knows that something just isn't right; something is missing and he can't quite grasp it. countless times, he's tried to translate the idea of you onto paper, and countless times he's ripped out pages of his sketchbook, the abandoned drawings left crumpled in random corners of his studio, of his house, of his room. they say the mind is unable to create faces of its own so where did you come from? it consumes him— the way you replay in his head once he closes his eyes, as if he'd somehow stolen the memories of somebody else. perhaps this is what the tortured artists sing of when they descend to madness, haunted by an absent muse. at least… until the fateful day he sees you out on the cobbled streets of mondstadt. you pass by quickly, the moment as fleeting as a shooting star, and something in albedo clicks. he doesn’t have time to think, he just moves. his muse is here now within reach; how can he risk letting you slip away?
— 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇
careless collision, staggering steps… you snap your eyes shut as you try to mentally prepare yourself for the utter humiliation of falling into the akademiya fountain. except it never comes. your eyes flutter open, and are instantly met with just about the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. however, his expression is one of shock, as if he’s just as surprised as you are of his own actions, and truth be told, he is. because he seemed to have been able to watch the scene unfold, even before the other party had bumped into you. because kaveh is sure something had come over him, with the way time appeared to have stopped and his legs moved of their own accord. like his body was suddenly able to predict the future, or that it was the work of some absurd sense of muscle memory. even so, the weight of you in his grasp feels uncannily familiar. in a good way. it feels right; it feels like he had waited his whole life for this moment.
and suddenly you're hyperaware of how close the two of you actually are— but also of how safe you feel with his arm wrapped around your waist, or of how his large doe eyes seem to peer into your very soul, the carmine hues dancing with renewed life. you really can't shake the overwhelming feeling that you've met before, that perhaps this isn't your first time around at all. and so you have to ask, “have we met before?”
"no, but I'd like to again."
— 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈
you quite literally walk into zhongli, knocking his documents out of his hands and all across the marble floor of liyue’s national museum. zhongli sighs without looking up; he had spent the better half of a day organizing contracts and paperwork for a loan agreement to inazuma, though he supposes he should share in the blame for not watching where he was going. hundreds of years have passed since the immortal ex-archon worked as a funeral consultant; these days, zhongli opts to spend his time surrounded by artifacts of bygone times and bygone people. but when he looks up, his golden eyes widen and his blood runs cold at the sight of you in front of him. he freezes, as if time seems to have stopped for the both of you. his focus shifts back and forth between you and the painting across the room: a seemingly ordinary portrait, dated from around the time of the blonde traveler. still, whenever asked, he can confidently say that it’s his favorite piece, even in this house of invaluable artifacts and monuments to heroes, even among all the rich antiquities teyvat has to offer. and here you were in front of him, a perfect match to the painting's subject. the one whom he had once held so dear before being torn away by the hands of time, is now kneeling on the floor in front of him, frantically trying to gather the scattered documents, of which he had long deemed irrelevant. he feels his impenetrable stone heart flutter for the first time in what feels like a millennia because it’s you. he's sure of it. it's you, it's you, it's you.
— 𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐅
ever since your move to mondstadt, you've started having satin dreams of knights and castles, false flowers and fictional faces; dreams that undoubtedly end in war and destruction because everything shifts. castles crumble, faces morph— it becomes a nightmare so vivid it feels more akin to a memory than a dream. but through it all only one thing remains constant in that, in every iteration, you always fall in love with the same blonde man.
wandering the tranquil halls of mondstadt's national gallery, you find yourself before The Destruction of Khaenri'ah, a painting tragically beautiful in it's depiction of the ancient nation's condemnation by the heavens. you feel your eyes threaten to water, the ache in your chest an indication that the same anguish you've felt in your nightmares, has now sunk its claws into your heart. it's the first time a piece of art has moved you like this. so much so that you’re rooted in a trance-like state until someone beside you clears his throat, snapping you back to reality. he himself also gazes at the painting although his arm is outstretched; a handkerchief in offering for your tears. it isn't until your fingers brush against his that the blonde man turns to meet your gaze. shades of cerulean, bluer than the depths of the seas, all a mere backdrop to the stars shining in his eyes. stars that match the ones sitting in your own eyes. your heart skips a beat at the revelation. it's him, the man from your dreams. he’s real.
TAGLIST ;; @meimeimeirin @mixed-kester @salmonthepan @hcbnkdf @moonrolling
(send an ask to be added/removed. if you’re bolded, it means I cannot tag you; your blog might be hidden ! )
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#albedo x reader#kaveh x reader#zhongli x reader#dainsleif x reader#genshin x you#genshin fluff#genshin angst#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact scenarios#soulmate au#genshin hcs#genshin impact fluff#genshin imagines
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Walls, Brawls, & Sudden Rainfalls ‣ hrj
‣ pairing: renjun x reader
‣ genre: enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, fluff!, slow burn (!), college au
‣ wc: 23.6k (gawdamn)
‣ summary: Your first impression of Huang Renjun wasn’t the greatest. In fact, the first two encounters you did have with him were enough for you to conclude that he was just some cold-blooded boy who genuinely didn’t care about anyone else but himself. That was, of course, before the (damn) universe brings you both together to work on the local daycare’s mural.
↳ Alternatively where first impressions blind the fact that you two actually fit quite well together.
‣ warnings?: Brief mention of underage drinking, Renjun and reader argue really childishly lots, when I meant slow burn, I really did mean slow burn, very very brief mention of doing the dirty bc reader chooses to be dirty-minded (but they don't actually do it nonono)
‣ an: this is the longest fic I've posted ever (so far), so it feels like I’ve incubated it in the womb, went into labour, gave birth, raised it, and now I'm setting it shi free and into the world lmaooo,,, anyways thank you so much to @hoonieji (my bestie) for reading over this and reassuring me that it was going great,, I hope you all enjoy this!!! <333
‣ taglist!: @hoonieji @nanaflwers @dandelionxgal @flowerpotrenjun @renjun-fairy @she-is-dreaming @mosviqu @hibernatinghamster @glamourizz — can't tag @markleeiloveyou @lovehowdream
ONE.
With the hundreds, hell even thousands, of people in university, there will always be a handful of rude, miserable people that you were deemed to run into sooner or later.
Sure, not all of them mean to be rude. Often, there would be the occasional bump on the shoulder in the crowded corridors… Or there would be those newly woken up individuals who would give dirty looks, obviously not giving a single fuck. You’re a nice person. You understand those people since everyone did had bad days. But there was one man—cough—boy that genuinely had an attitude that needed to be fixed.
You didn’t know his name, nor did you want to know his name, but you could easily pick him out of a crowd because of the smug look he always repped. Funnily enough, it was the very look you wanted to very badly slap off of his face.
The only reason you knew of him was that he seemed to have a desire to be a menace to those who got in his way and unfortunately, you constantly ended up being on the receiving end of these situations.
There was one morning you had been running late to class—no—you were sprinting to the auditorium in hopes of only missing the run-through of the previous class. Your field of vision chose to settle only on the doors of your class, which at the time was a huge mistake. The focal point blocked out everything else, causing you to run into the before mentioned boy in a rough manner.
“What the fuck!?” You both were on the ground, briefly stunned at the collision, “This shirt is expensive!” You looked up and realized that dark coffee had stained the boy’s light-coloured shirt. The look on his face caused your heart to drop and eyes to widen.
“I’m so sorry! I really am! I’m just late–”
“I didn’t ask for an explanation,” he scoffed. He stood up, peeling the shirt off of his skin. It tented easily.
“I can repay you…” You say quickly, speaking before you could even process what you wanted to say.
“Can you pay for a hundred-dollar shirt?”
You shake your head, but you think of alternative ways to repay him. Only him interrupting you even before you could begin listing them indicated that he wanted none of it, “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” And at that he leaves you stunned, belongings still scattered around your puzzled self.
“Well fuck you, then,” you mumbled. Rolling your eyes, you were pulled back into the situation you had been in prior to the encounter. Class was a lot more important than some douche anyway.
Another encounter between you both happened after about a month of the first. The Starbucks found on campus was not at its busiest, yet it was not quite empty either. The baristas and cashiers worked their hardest to satisfy their customers, walking to and from different stations behind the counter.
“Hi, can I order a grande iced caramel macchiato?” You questioned, one of your earphones sitting in your hand. The cashier nodded, asking for your name and other necessary information before you paid.
You thanked her before slowly moving towards the serving counter, taking notice of the boy when you did. He had his head down, attention directed at his phone’s screen. He, too, had earphones in, practically blocking out his surroundings. In a way, you were glad he didn’t notice your presence, the memory of last month’s conflict running through your head.
You placed yourself at the corner of the cafe, away from the boy but close to the counter. When you ordered at a cafe, you would often pay attention to the baristas, watching as they mixed up the drinks. You could see yours being made, which had been quick as there were still people waiting for their drinks.
When the barista finally clicked a lid onto the cup, you begin making your way to the counter, ready to take it and leave. She slid the designated smaller straw next to the drink, so you grabbed it before the drink, then made your leave. Little did you know, the drink you took wasn’t actually your drink.
“Excuse me!”
You genuinely didn’t hear the boy calling you because of music blaring through your earphones. And even though he was waving his arms to catch your attention through your peripheral vision, your attention was poured entirely on the drink you held snugly in your hand, poking the straw in.
“Excuse me!”
He finally caught up to you, grabbing your shoulder to stop you. The sudden contact caused you to jump, attention shooting from the drink and up to the boy. You don’t say anything, pausing the current bop that was playing.
“That’s my drink,” he gestured towards the drink, “Well not my drink but my friend told me to pick it up for him.”
You look down at the name, seeing a Donghyuck printed on the sticker. You blushed and replied sheepishly, “Oh I’m sorry, I genuinely thought it was mine…” You hold it out to him, “Do you want it? I haven't taken a sip from it yet.”
“Of course I want it, I’ve been waiting for ages,” he mutters, promptly grabbing the drink from your hand. Without another word, he walks away, muttering a string of words you couldn’t quite make out.
“What? No ‘thank you’?!” You yell back.
He doesn’t turn back, and not because he had his music playing, but because he didn’t want to. You curse under your breath and walk back to the cafe, seeing that your drink with your name on it had been waiting for you.
Though you didn’t have the right to judge an individual, especially since you didn’t even know his name, the two encounters had given you a bad image of him. Two encounters in two different situations… you were being polite in both situations regardless of how embarrassed you had been only to be returned with cold responses. Who did he think he was?
“Li Shang.”
“I agree, one hundred percent,” you replied. Yeji held up a hand for you to give her a high-five, which you completed. The conversation topic on Disney Princes had been more entertaining than the chemistry homework due next week, “That’s why you’re my best friend.”
“Him and Prince Naveen,” she kisses her fingers in a ‘chef kiss’ type of movement, “That’s all I have to say.”
“Also!” You hold up a finger, pause for dramatic effect and state, “Tadashi Hamada.”
“He’s not a prince… but I will let it pass because it’s Tadashi Hamada,” she giggles. You watch her sit back in the library chair she pulled out from another table because it had padding for your butt, smiling. She drops her pen onto her textbook, “Taste.”
Before you could reply and add to her comment, a third presence appears to the right of you and the left of Yeji, which puts the conversation on pause. You turn to see Jaemin bent down to catch his breath. He had a wrinkled sheet of paper in one hand and his phone in the other, his bag open at the top.
“Woah, are you good?” You asked, standing up and assisting him towards one of the seats as if he were one of the elderly you helped once in a while at the old folks home. He nods but keeps silent, taking in deep breaths.
Once Jaemin finally caught his breath, he began to spew out whatever news he had for you or Yeji, “That’s the… most exercise I’ve… done in years.” He gulps and sighs out, “Anyways, Y/N you’re looking for a place to work or volunteer at right? Like art-wise or something? Kids? Puppies? I don’t know… I forgot what you were going for…”
You nodded, “Just any type of volunteer or temporary job… Yeah, I still have no luck.”
“Well, this is perfect for you then!” Jaemin flattens out the crumpled-up sheet of paper in front of you, “They need some people to help paint a mural for this daycare. No previous experience needed. As long as you can hold a paintbrush!”
Yeji leans in to get a look at the sheet, “Woah, you get paid too! That sounds like fun. I would do it with you if I wasn’t busy with these damn classes.” She sinks back into her chair and begins playing with the sheets of her textbook.
“I ran here because a bunch of people might want the job.” Jaemin says, “The daycare is literally just behind the campus.”
You stand up, the adrenaline Jaemin previously possessed taking over your veins, “Can you watch my stuff!?” Your phone was already in hand and you were ready to sprint out of the library and to the daycare Jaemin had been talking about.
“Of cou–“
And at that, you were gone and running towards the building. To your luck, the library was by the back of the campus, so the run wasn’t as far as you anticipated. You could sense other students eyeing you as you sped past, though you didn’t really care since you were merely a flash in their eyes.
Once you had arrived at the daycare, you entered and made your way to the front counter, “Hello, I’m here for the painting job?”
The lady at the desk looked exhausted, eyes halfway closed and face struggling to present a welcome expression, “Can you draw and paint? All that kind of stuff?”
“Yes! That’s mostly why the job appealed to me,” you replied, “Do you need a resum–“
“You’re hired…” she mumbled stiffly, “Please fill this sheet out and show up here on Saturday at one in the afternoon for further instruction.”
Smiling, partly stunned, you nodded before turning to leave. That was easier than you thought… all that running was worth it.
TWO.
You sat across the street from the daycare, contemplating whether it would be better to come early or right on time. Through the windows, you could see that they weren’t as busy as yesterday due to it being a Saturday. It wouldn’t hurt to show up early right? Standing up, you dust your butt off before making your way to the crosswalk.
“Hello, I’m here for the job information. I was hired yesterday,” you explained, “My name is Y/N L/N.” The person (wo)manning the desk was a different lady from a few days ago. The woman held a smile on her face, one that reached her eyes so, to you, it seemed like a genuine smile. You squinted at her name tag, which read Joy.
Huh… fitting…
“Oh good!” She exclaimed, “Now you can sit just over there as we’re waiting for another person.”
“Another person?”
“Of course! We’re not expecting one person to work on the entire mural alone. It’s larger than it looks, so we decided to hire anyone who asked. Those two were you two,” she explained the situation, “I’ll further explain the objective of the assignment when the other boy arrives.”
Your ears perked up as you nodded, Boy? A small little piece of you started hoping that, whoever this other person was, was cute.
You hear the door open behind you, a small greeting leaving the lips of the smiley woman, “Oh! This must be him! Are you here for the job?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the voice replied. It sounded rather familiar, but you were unable to pinpoint who it could have belonged to. Curious, you turn to look at the owner of the voice. Once you had processed who had been standing a few feet away from you, your jaw dropped.
You both speak at once, evidently shocked at the coincidence.
“You!?”
You couldn’t help but feel the sudden impulse to quit the job before it even started. You’d rather accidentally fall into dog shit than work with this unnamed douche of a boy.
“Do you two know each other?” Joy questioned, “That’s even bett–“
“N-no, not quite,” you interrupted, “We’ve just… had a few encounters on campus.” You choose to turn your body completely towards Joy so that you couldn’t accidentally look at the other presence.
Joy nods, “Makes sense… Anyways, name?” She directed the question towards the boy, pulling out another sheet from a clipboard.
“Huang Renjun.” It was funny finally being able to put a name to his face, especially after all this time. But you very much preferred ‘that boy’ over his name.
You feel him approach the desk, standing beside you as Joy begins going over the job instructions. You two were expected to paint a mural over the next month, about two to four days per week depending on how long you both worked. The theme of the painting is what was expected from a daycare mural, something pleasing to the eye, especially the eyes of kids. The two of you had freedom over what you wanted to paint but were expected to get the idea checked over by Joy before the actual painting started. Once that was approved, they’ll provide all the supplies for the painting process to begin. Easy.
If only you were working on the project with anyone else but Huang Renjun.
“Any further questions?” Joy concluded, shifting her glance between you and Renjun. You both shook your heads, “Okay good. I think a rough deadline for the idea should be around the end of next week? The boss really needs this done in a month.” You both nodded silently before turning to leave the daycare.
“How do you want to brainstorm the idea?” Renjun had muttered before you were able to walk off.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “How do you?”
He scowls, “I guess we can just meet up here during designated hours?”
“That makes the most sense, doesn’t it?” you don’t feel like replying to him kindly if he spoke with an underlying attitude. Someone really needed to teach him basic manners.
“Whatever.” Renjun leaves you alone in front of the daycare, giving you a chance to roll your eyes behind his back.
You choose not to walk away from the daycare until you’re sure he’s left, opting to use your phone and scroll through whatever notifications you’ve missed during the meeting. Your face is left in a painful grimace, one that you didn’t even feel you’ve rendered on your face.
You can’t believe you’re working on a team project with this particular boy out of all people. Yes, it was a bit overdramatic, but you’re not quite sure how to work with someone you’ve only had bad encounters with. It also doesn’t help that he seems to have mutual feelings for you—which you find particularly ridiculous since you really haven’t done anything wrong to him on purpose.
It’s somehow the next day when you’re able to tell Yeji about the happenings of yesterday. Though the topic only came up when Jaemin questions you about the gig and Yeji notices how your face contorts into a stiff frown. The both of you are sitting in the dining hall, food half-finished but untouched for the past ten minutes.
“What’s up with your face?” Yeji questions, almost laughing out loud at your shift in mood. This is something you really liked about Yeji. She was talented at reading facial expressions. There could be the tiniest quirk in your brow and she’d be questioning you to world’s end.
You purse your lips and stare back at her, “What face?”
“This face,” Yeji contorts her face into an exaggerated glower, “What’s up with that? I thought you were excited about the painting gig?” Jaemin nods along to what Yeji said.
You don’t reply for one long second, trying to figure out how to explain to your best friend what happened yesterday afternoon. “Do you remember that guy I was really pissed off about a few weeks ago?”
Yeji pauses to think, “The guy with the coffee?”
You think about it and realize that both encounters you’ve had with Huang Renjun involved coffee. “Yeah, him! Today, at the meeting, guess who came as my temporary partner for the project.”
“No way!” Yeji’s eyes open, “That’s a whole coincidence! No wonder why you looked all pissed.” You can tell by the new wave of expression on her face that she feels sorry, “Is he still… douchey?”
Your eyes widen as you nod, leaning forward, “Yeah, but what’s new?” You’re about to roll your eyes, mouth opening with an intention to add more, but Yeji’s eyes shift from you to something behind you. She holds her gaze there for a few moments before her brows furrow in confusion. Her eyes flicker back to you.
“You know it’s not good to be talking bad about someone behind their backs right?” You turn and see Renjun with a friend of his. “Someone’s ending up on Santa’s naughty list.”
Your brows knit together, “You’re one to say something…”
Renjun throws you a look before taking a long sip from his drink. You can’t help but look at the beverage, an iced matcha latte, and feel yourself craving it. It looks good.
Renjun clears his throat, “Anyways, we’re meeting tomorrow.” His friend stands awkwardly behind him, looking like he just wants to be there to eat.
“That doesn’t even sound like a question,” you point out.
He shrugs, “Because it’s not… I have places to be.”
You look over at Yeji who’s witnessing the attitude of the one and only Huang Renjun. Even you can see that Yeji’s shocked at how Renjun’s interacting with you.
“Fine, whatever,” you wave him off, “Whatever makes you leave.”
“Good, because I wasn’t even going to give you a choice. I’m showing up even if you’re not there.” At that, Renjun and his (poor) friend walk away, leaving both you and Yeji rather stunned.
In the corner of your eye, you see Yeji turn to look at you, so you look back, noticing her sorry expression, “Good luck tomorrow, Y/N.”
You thank her. Not because it was what people usually replied to the comment, but because you knew you genuinely needed it.
THREE.
Upon entering the daycare and being directed into a secluded room by Irene, another employee who ran the desk, you find Renjun sitting hunched over a sheet of paper. You could see his hand was working fast and that his attention was focused mostly on whatever he was doing. One side of the room gave you and Renjun a look at the main area of the daycare.
“You’re late,” he muttered, not looking up.
“You’re early,” you retorted. The clock at the corner of the room tells the truth. You had only been five minutes late. How much brainstorming could the boy have even done in that span of time?
He doesn’t reply to your response, slumping back in his chair to continue his brainstorming. You can’t help but make a face behind his back, slipping into a chair at the same table but across from him, refusing to sit next to him. You didn’t want him looking over your shoulder during your creative process, or else you’d lose your mind.
But then you remembered that you were here to work with him. “You know, we met up here so that we can work on the idea together,” you point out, “But you do seem like the person who wouldn’t know what the word cooperation means.” Not even two minutes into this so-called meeting and you want to leave.
Maybe you should just quit.
“You don’t even know me?” Renjun lifts his head towards you and scoffed, “So you can’t say that.”
“You’re right,” you nodded, “I don’t know you, but I’ve bumped into you enough times to know you don’t give a single fuck about those you don’t know.” You pull out a pencil from your bag and take one of the spare sheets of paper sitting in the middle of the table. You start to write out random phrases that come to mind, whether it be inspirational or a pop culture reference.
Renjun scoffs, “I’ll have you know, most of our encounters happened because of you.” You can see he’s adding colour to his draft, giving you no direct attention, “This all would be avoided if you weren’t an accident waiting to happen.”
“You know there’s always better ways to go about those same situations,” you spit back, “Because, I don’t know, accidents happen? Other people wouldn’t make big deals out of them.”
Renjun mutters a quiet ‘whatever,’ under his breath, huffing out in frustration as he continues with his draft. At this point, you’re halfway done with your draft, which consisted of a cute scene of kids and a generic playground background. It was a bit mediocre, but you thought simple was cute. You both continue on in silence, letting the sounds of the kids playing drown it out.
The silence wasn’t awkward. In fact, you could listen to the serene, no-sound room as if it were a hit song you’ve been obsessing over the past week. Anything but Renjun’s voice was a blessing, especially in situations like this.
After about half an hour, Renjun looks over at your draft, “You do know kids can’t read, right? At least kids attending this daycare.”
You scowl. “Yeah and?” You continued with your business, “Haven’t you seen that movie ‘The Pursuit of Happyness’?”
Renjun thinks for a hot second, “No.”
Your eyes shot up at him, surprised that he hasn’t seen the classic. When you weren’t in the mood to watch other movies, you’d naturally gravitate towards rewatching that one. It was a good movie, one that made you cry, yes, but you liked the underlying meaning behind the movie. “That explains everything.”
“What do you mean?”
You ignore his question completely, “There were words on that daycare’s mural, I don’t think it’s wrong to add some words to the mural, Huang Renjun. Besides, lettering is what I’m best at.”
Renjun glares at you. “What if I don’t want words on the mural?” He quickly glances down at his own picture. It was more of a realistic picture, one of the skies with balloons floating through the scene. Attached to some of the balloons were toys or items associated with being a kid. It was simple, but he found it rather cute. To him, it beat your average picture of kids by a playground.
“What if I don’t want… whatever that is?” you childishly argue back, “Look, I know my idea is simple, but simple is easier and simple is usually best. Your picture has so much shading… imagine the two of us having to paint that.”
Renjun tries to hold back a laugh, “Are you serious? My picture’s obviously better than yours.”
You both immaturely argue for another twenty minutes, pointing out the most ridiculous reasons for why your own pictures were one-hundred-and-ten percent better than the other’s. And it was consequently the stubbornness that both you and Renjun possessed that leaves you both with no decision by the time the shift was near over.
Your eyes drift to the clock sitting above the window, “Time’s almost up and we still haven’t figured out what we want to do. Let’s just settle with mine.” You push the picture towards the centre of the table, eyes holding your hopes of your idea being chosen. Maybe Renjun will finally break.
“I don’t think we should,” Renjun shrugs, voice monotone, “Let’s just… decide on it the next shift. I really don’t want to deal with this—or you—right now.” Renjun picks his phone up and takes a picture of his and your pictures sitting in the middle of the table for reference.
You follow in pursuit before snatching your draft from its spot. You feel a sense of relief knowing that you can finally return to your Huang-Renjun-less life. “Fine, whatever you want. I don’t wanna deal with you either.”
The shift abruptly ends with Renjun taking his leave first, leaving the room without another word. He bids a quick goodbye to Irene, who has no knowledge of what just happened before exiting the building entirely.
Renjun feels nothing but irritation walking back to his dorm room. Days ago, he remembers being excited about the gig. He gets paid to do something he truly loves, all while giving such a flat looking building some colour to make it pop, which clearly was a win-win for both him and the daycare. But the fact that you’re there with the apparent purpose to contradict everything he’s planned, the excitement was simply sucked out of it all.
Renjun finally settles back at his shared dorm room, hanging his bag on the back of the nearest dining room chair before sitting himself at the couch, where both Donghyuck and Jeno were playing Super Smash Bros. Although they were rather loud, he’s just glad to be back in an atmosphere he knows he can relax in.
“Hey, how was your painting thingy?” Jeno asks, eyes glued to the screen. In between Jeno’s question and Renjun’s response, there’s rapid clicking coming from the two boys’ controllers.
“It was… fine, I guess,” Renjun mutters. He pulls up his phone and mindlessly swipes through social media.
Both Donghyuck and Jeno don’t fail to notice the bummed tone in his voice. Donghyuck speaks up, “‘I guess’?” There’s more clicking, “You suck at this, Jeno.”
“Remember who I’m working with?” Renjun hints, “She literally contradicts everything I say and do for no fucking reason. It’s draining.”
More clicks. Then Jeno finally replies, “That doesn’t sound fun at all. Maybe she’s not aware about what she’s doing?”
Renjun sighs, “I think she knows what she’s doing. I just think she’s doing it to spite me. You should hear her arguments. They’re so senseless and they make me want to laugh.”
On his phone, Renjun pulls up the photo he’s taken of both of your drafts and enlarges yours. This is the first time today that he’s able to properly look at your picture and he can’t help but actually like it. No, he still doesn’t like your idea about the kids and the playground, but the words you had chosen to letter over top the main picture.
Adventure Is Out There. Although it was pulled directly from the movie Up, the quote works perfectly well with the daycare’s name, The Adventurers. He liked it. But he wouldn’t admit that to your face.
Renjun zooms out of your picture to show both of your drafts once again, eyes glancing between both images. The gears in his head begin turning, Renjun’s creative process in the works, as begins mustering up an idea that could possibly work for the both of you.
“How about we take your quote and add it to my picture?”
It’s two days later and Renjun’s monotonously suggesting the idea that had developed in his mind some nights ago. No other ideas have been brought up since then and Renjun wants nothing else but to start on the project.
You look up at him with a raised brow, “Oh, so Huang Renjun’s finally admitting that his picture is plain as shit?” You’re not against what Renjun’s suggesting, only because what he was thinking made sense. The balloons that his drawing had reminded you of Up. It did go well with your quote, plus you were able to incorporate your want of lettering.
Renjun narrows his eyes at you, “It’s not ‘plain as shit.’ I just want to get this over with.” He reaches for a brand new piece of paper and begins drawing a second copy of his drawing.
You sigh. “Fine whatever. But I get to suggest something about it too.” You eye how quick he was to copy down his drawing, head pivoting back and forth to replicate it.
Renjun chooses not to look up, “What is it?” Although he was willing to hear you out, there’s still a splash of irritation in his voice.
“Don’t make it so realistic.”
His head is brought up to look at you, “And why not?”
“It’s a daycare,” you say flatly, “Do you not remember that? Where’s the ‘cute’ factor in making it look realistic? This isn’t a commission from the city, Huang Renjun.”
You have a valid point, Renjun thinks. He admits he’s been treating this as more important than it really was, but that’s just how he was. “Fine. It will be easier to paint anyway.” Renjun turns back to the new drawing, making it a little more kid-like. He refrains from colouring the picture before sliding it in your direction, “The quote.”
Pulling the new draft towards you, you pick up your own pencil and start your part of the drawing. Looking at Renjun’s sketch, you realize that you can’t place the words exactly how you had it on your original draft. There were areas that you didn’t want to cover.
“After you’re done, I’ll colour it,” Renjun mutters, “Write down the supplies we need, then we can leave.”
Only you using your eyes to look at him, you reply, “Sure.” And when he looks back down at his phone, you roll your eyes. Someone needs to tell him to simmer down with his attitude. Then maybe you can tolerate him easier.
You pass the sheet of paper back to Renjun and sigh. There’s a sense of relief in your chest when you realize that this part of the process was over. Thinking back to two days ago, the way you and Renjun argued over what to do for the mural, you thought that there was no way you were getting it done in time, at least not with both of you being satisfied.
But that’s all done and over with. Luckily this was the hardest part of the project.
Right?
FOUR.
“You’re gonna be there for how long?” Yeji peers over her laptop’s screen, eyes wide at what you just told her.
“Four hours,” you answer, “That’s not even that long, Yej.” You’re laughing quietly as you put your sneakers on, half-assedly tying the laces. The walk there is around ten minutes and it’s already 1:48. You can already hear Renjun’s ‘you’re late,’ along with his deadpan expression.
“I know, but I’m going to be here alone on a weekend afternoon,” she whines. You watch as her face quickly changes expressions, “Wait do you want me to bring you a snack later? Rub it into Renjun’s face that you have a great best friend who brings you food?” She bats her eyes and angles her face to convince you into saying yes.
You shake your head, “It’s only four hours today cause we’re finally starting the mural and we want to get the base done today. And I’ll be fine, I promise. Maybe invite Jaemin here for the time being.”
“He’s off somewhere with his friend,” Yeji sighs, “But whatever you say. I’ll miss you!”
You playfully roll your eyes, “Bye Yej. I’ll miss you, too.” And at that, you’re off to the daycare.
The peaceful walk to the daycare can be the calm before the storm, the storm being Huang Renjun. The idea made you laugh a little bit, childishly picturing Renjun like how animators would draw angry anime characters with a crimson face, steam blowing out of their ears and nose, and pupil-less eyes. You feel like that’s the only emotional state you’ve seen the boy in and you can’t help but curiously imagine how Renjun’s smile would look.
You shake that thought out of your head before you let it run further into nonsense, finally arriving at the building. Through the glass doors, you can see Renjun sitting by the front desk. Upon entering, Joy, who was sitting at her computer, looks up with a bright smile, “Good afternoon, Y/N.” Renjun does nothing but let his attention waver over you for a quick second before going back to his own business.
“Hi, Joy,” you greet back, “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Renjun finally stands up and stands at your side.
“Oh, no, no! You’re right on time and I will speak to you guys very quickly before I let you guys get to work,” she rounds the counter and leads you both to the meeting room like always, “So since the draft was approved, the supplies you needed, plus ones I’ve added are just in here. Grab what you need and you guys are free to start.” She shows you a closet near the back of the room, opening the door to reveal the many supplies that were ordered.
“Thank you, Joy,” Renjun nodded.
“It’s no problem! If you guys have any concerns, you know who to go to!” Spinning on her heel, Joy flashes one last smile.
“Chalk, white paint, string, ruler,” Renjun mumbles, taking the supplies up into his arms.
You grab the paint brushes, “Why do we need half of what you just said?”
Renjun’s walking out of the room, paying almost no mind to you and your question.
“Huang Renjun,” you say firmly, “Can you answer my question?” You both are outside at this point, “Or… or else I’ll chuck this brush at you!” Although it was a joke, you subconsciously knew you would if he seriously didn’t open his mouth within the next minute.
“So I can draw a grid?” He speaks to you as if you were stupid.
Oh, he’s going to get it, you think, but your thoughts and your body think and do different things. Your body decides to stay grounded where you were, “And why would we need a grid?”
Renjun huffs and turns to his bag. He fishes out the draft you both had made last week, only there’s a graph lightly drawn over it, “So we can replicate the picture onto the wall.” Renjun thought this over the past few days. If he and you wanted to mural to turn out exactly how you both had drawn it, eyeing it wouldn’t be the best to go about it. Hell, even drawing out a rough sketch of it could be difficult through eyeing it.
“Can’t we just free-hand it?” You’re not understanding why Renjun wants to make the job more difficult than it was. There were only two of you. If there were maybe four of you working on the mural, then sure, go ahead and draw a graph, but there were only two of you.
Renjun shakes his head, “I think it’s worth it to draw the graph, that way there’s no chance of messing up.” He fiddles mindlessly with the string he’s been holding. You can tell by the expression on his face that he’s serious about this. You want to tell him that, ‘bro, this is a mural for a daycare, it doesn’t need to be one-hundred-percent perfect,’ but Renjun looks like he’s ready to fight for what he wants.
“Fine, let’s draw the graph,” you say.
Renjun looks at you confused. Why’d you back down so quick? “Huh?”
“But you do it all on your own.”
Ah… There it is.
“I’ll just sit here and wait for you to finish.”
Renjun wants to laugh out loud, not because the situation was funny, but because he can’t believe you’re actually saying what you just said. “Are you serious?”
You sit down at a nearby bench and nod, “Why would I be joking? You sure do act like you know what you want to do… so, go ahead. Do it.” A spiteful smile rises upon your lips and you wave for him to go on with his task. Being the stubborn boy he was, Renjun gives you one firm look before turning towards the small ladder. He drags it towards the right end of the wall and begins preparing the materials.
You watch him out of curiosity, wanting to know how he’ll manage to do it all on his own. You want to see if he’ll ask for your help, or end up wanting to free-hand the rough sketch in end. But as you do observe Renjun, it’s clear that he’s not going to ask for help or give up.
Renjun measures out string that’s about the height of the wall, 3 metres tall, and then the length, which was near 4 and a half metres long. Grabbing measuring tape, Renjun uses the ladder to measure and divide the wall into foot-by-foot squares, marking the corners of the squares with dark chalk lines. The job’s going to take long, that’s for sure, and watching him move up and down the ladder, while he tries his best to keep his marks aligned, you can’t help but feel bad for making him do it on his own.
But then again, he wasn’t asking for help.
Renjun on the other hand is struggling and he hopes you don’t see it. Yes, two hands were enough for the daily tasks he has grown accustomed to, but two hands weren’t enough to do this very task efficiently. There’s a voice at the very back of his brain that was itching him to ask you for help, but as always, Renjun and his stubborn ass refuse to do so, even if he’s on the edge of falling off of the ladder.
“Can you hand me the black paint?” Renjun asks about forty-five minutes later. His hairline is drenched from sweat and the lack of expression on his face reveals how tired he was, “Please.” He hopes that you’d at least help with this.
Without another word between the two of you, you stand up and pick up the bucket of black paint. You quickly plop it down next to the foot of the ladder before looking up at him, “Are you done with the graph?” You try your best to sound disinterested, eyes moving across the wall.
Renjun blinks down at you, “Does it look finished?”
There’s a caring instinct in you that notices the exhausted look in Renjun’s eyes. His eyelids are drooping, and he’s sniffling from the constant moving he’s been doing. Renjun’s sweating profusely from the sun beating down on the both of you, and you’re brought to wonder if he was prepared to be worked up to this degree.
When your eyes meet his, you’re instantly pulled from your thoughts and you remember that you’re not supposed to give a single fuck about Huang Renjun, even if he’s working his ass off like this. He looks like he’s waiting for you to answer or leave to go sit back down. But a rogue idea somehow assembles itself in your head and you decide to just go with it. You roll your eyes, “Well, I’m going to the washroom if you aren’t.”
“Whatever.” He gives you one last glare before turning to the black paint and the string.
You start making your way to the front door of the building, sending Renjun sneaky glances. The second he’s paying you no attention, both direct and peripheral, you make a break for it and start sprinting towards the centre of campus. There was no doubt that you look like a madman right now, zooming past students who were still on campus despite the day of the week, but you didn’t care. If you want to pull this off, then you need to do this quick—and quick means running like you were in a life or death situation.
Finally reaching your destination, you decide to take a breather, hands on your knees and everything. Your mind wanders back to the day you applied for the gig, getting deja vu from the exhaustion you’re feeling right now.
Once you finally are able to catch your breath, you make your way into the building and sigh at the air conditioning.
“Y/N! Hi! The usual?” The Starbucks worker, one you’ve obviously seen plenty of times, looks at you in an odd way but goes with the flow nonetheless. She’s smiling at you, finger hovering over the screen in front of her as she waits for a response.
You nod and add, “Add an iced matcha latte to that too. Make it venti, please.” She nods and continues on with the usual routine.
You left as quickly as you came, although this time, you’re sprinting with a bit more caution, not wanting to spill the drinks you’ve used your own money for. You can’t help but wonder what Renjun was thinking right now—what were you doing in the washroom for so long?
The two drinks you were holding in both of your hands said it all, though there was still no explanation why you decided to sacrifice some of your time and money for Renjun. It was just the nice person instinct inside of you that decided to do so.
You’ll complain about it to yourself later.
When you finally return from your little mission, you’re lucky enough to arrive when Renjun’s distracted with the graph. You notice he’s done the vertical lines within the time you were gone.
“That was a long washroom break,” Renjun muttered rather loudly. He’s pressing the paint-soaked string against the wall, face angled slightly to the side in focus, “I was beginning to think you ditched me.”
You shoot him a glare behind his back and contemplate whether you should throw the drink that you bought for him at him. Instead, you say nothing and put the drink down next to his things, making sure it was in a spot that was safe from the surroundings.
Renjun looks back at you, instantly noticing that you were now holding an entire Starbucks drink in your hand, completely missing the one sitting by his things. “Didn’t know they had a Starbucks in the washroom.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm and hints of irritation. He still can’t believe he’s actually been working on the graph for almost two hours on his own.
“Oh yeah, they just opened one a week ago,” you shoot back. You plop into your previous place and sit there, taking out your phone to distract you from Renjun.
You don’t realize how much time has passed when you see a pair of feet stop in front of you. You’re brought to look up at the owner, “What do you want?”
“I want a break.” Renjun answers flatly, “I’m done with the graph. Now work on transferring it.” He holds out the same draft he had shown you earlier, waiting for you to take it. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to show his shoulders and he’s using a small towel, that was originally supposed to be for the paintbrushes, to wipe his forehead.
“Sure” was all you said before snatching the draft from his fingertips.
All the hard work was done for you. Transferring it was easy.
Gathering the supplies you needed, chalk, paintbrushes, and white paint, you get going on transmitting the draft onto the wall. The moment you start the rough sketch of the mural, you feel a wave of nostalgia hit you, remembering the countless activity books you completed as a kid. You can distinctly recall the pages where one side displayed a cute drawing of an animal or character of some sort, overlaid by a graph, while the page next to it shows an empty graph in which you were instructed to redraw the completed picture. This was exactly like that, only bigger and not for leisure.
Your delight in starting distracts you easily from Renjun, who you unknowingly finally notices the drink you had gotten him not even thirty minutes earlier. Although he’s a bit puzzled by the drink, remembering damn well that he never got the drink himself, he lets his line of sight drift to your half-finished drink sitting by your things. When realization begins settling in, he does one more thing to confirm his thoughts.
Twisting the drink in his grasp, Renjun faces the sticker label towards him, eyes instantly finding what he was looking for.
*Y/N*
His eyes flicker up to you, standing firmly at the top of the step ladder, unaware of the fact that his eyes have widened and the corners of his mouth have climbed higher on his face. Despite the fact he’s thankful and a bit sorry that he was giving you attitude the second you got back from your ‘washroom break,’ the larger part of Renjun that’s still certainly irritated with you doesn’t say thank you.
Not out loud at least.
FIVE.
Painting a mural required many steps because painting on a giant wall was different to painting on a smaller, feasible canvas. You and Renjun were lucky enough that the wall had already been painted white, which you guess covered whatever was painted underneath.
Two shifts ago, you both had managed to finish the outline of the image you both had prepared for the mural, and the shift after that, you both opted to outline the main subjects of the mural with the base colours.
Although no problems had really arisen between the both of you (if you didn’t count small arguments about what shade of said colour a balloon should be), one weird thing you both noticed was the fact that none of you will willingly start on the same side as the other. You were no professional artist, nor have you been painting your entire life, but you knew damn well that the process of painting an image often involved starting at one part of the painting (usually the top) before working towards the other end. But regardless, the mural was, to your surprise, looking well done.
Today was the third day, and counting, of painting said first layer, and if you were being honest, you were having the fun you expected when you first applied for the gig. But you knew it was probably because you and Renjun simply chose not to speak with each other, aside from the simple ‘where’s the thicker paintbrush’ or ‘can you hand me that (mural painting tool here),’ there was an unspoken almost-truce between the two of you.
Leaning towards the wall, you apply lavender-coloured paint in short strokes, following the shape of the balloon you’ve been working for the past eleven minutes. You have music playing through your headphones, the volume just above half, and you can’t help but bop your head to the music.
“It’s almost five,” Renjun says quietly to you. He’s been working in silence the past few hours, but he almost loses track of time because of how caught up he’s gotten with painting. If it hadn’t been for the watch on his wrist, he would have gone overtime.
You don’t reply to him, continuing with your painting while Renjun begins to clean up. He finishes up with what he was working on before climbing down the ladder. He rinses the brush down and dries it, placing it into the paintbrush container that was provided for you both. Noticing that you haven’t moved from your spot, Renjun calls out to you again, “Hey! It’s almost five. We need to start cleaning up.”
Renjun sighs when he realizes you still can’t hear him, forcing him to walk up to you to catch your attention. He tugs gently at your jeans, which almost immediately catch your attention. You pull one side of your headphones off and glare down at him, “What do you want?”
“I said it’s five,” Renjun reciprocates your attitude, “Start cleaning up.” He turns away and starts gathering his things.
You blow a stray piece of hair from in front of your face and roll your eyes, though you are surprised that Renjun had the decency to let you know it’s time to go. You climb down your own ladder and do just as Renjun did earlier before carefully placing everything into a large storage bin. Then, once you were sure all the supplies were gathered inside the bin, you go to retrieve the step ladder, folding it so that you could use your shoulder to carry it. Renjun stands at one side of the bin to help you carry it, already having his belongings hanging from one shoulder.
It takes you both no longer than a minute to return the supplies to the closet, leaving with a goodbye to Irene, but no exchanges between the two of you (unsurprisingly). You let Renjun leave first, staying back to text Yeji where she and Jaemin were.
At the library studying!
Jaemin brought brownies
Say less.
You arrive at the library within the length of two songs, immediately finding the two sitting in the area that you all usually sat at. You were expecting them to be deep in focus, table drowning in pages and textbooks of their respective classes, but instead, you catch Yeji telling Jaemin to ‘shut up before we’re kicked out.’
“I thought you guys were supposed to be studying,” you snort, taking the spot next to Yeji. After standing for hours straight, being able to finally sit down felt good in the knees.
“Yeah, we were, but then Jaemin decided to bring up the topic of ugliest animals and we’ve been arguing ever since.” Yeji glares at Jaemin, “He claims that axolotls are the ugliest, but I say they’re cute.”
Jaemin starts laughing but you send him a look that was similar to Yeji’s, “Axolotls are cute, what are you even saying!?” Yeji’s eyes widen as she brings a hand up to cover your mouth. She shushes you.
She removes her hand from your mouth and you repeat yourself, but lower your volume, “What are you even saying? They look like they’re smiling.”
Jaemin gasps, “Excuse me? Name an animal uglier than an axolotl.”
“Easy.” You shrug and answer flatly, “You.” Obviously joking, you wave your hand as if to shoo away the statement, “Just kidding. A blobfish. Those are ugly as shit.”
Jaemin’s brows furrow as he leans forward towards his laptop to search it up. The way his face contorts itself makes you laugh, looking at you as if he’s seen the most disgusting image known to man (which probably did), “Shit, you’re right.”
You nod, “Exactly.”
Yeji laughs because she knows she won the argument thanks to your help. She quickly moves on with the topic, twisting the chair to face you, “So, how was your shift today?” Yeji’s expecting to hear something entertaining, especially since you’re working with Renjun.
“It was fine,” you say, “But it’s been like the past few days where me or Renjun don’t even talk to each other except for maybe the start and end. We work on the opposite sides of the mural anyways, so there’s no conflict. I’ve just been listening to my own music, too, so even if he does want to talk, he has to make an effort, which I know he won’t do.”
“Oh,” Yeji says, “Well, at least it isn’t as bad as those first few days. You guys just both sound done with each other.” You nodded and play with your phone in hand, not noticing the way Yeji’s attention diverts to Jaemin, “Oh right!”
“Hm?”
“Jaemin, tell Y/N what you were telling me about Renjun!” Your ears perk up at the mention of Renjun and possible gossip. Jaemin, though introverted, loved to branch out which meant he knew people through people. You wonder what type of stuff he’s heard of Renjun through acquaintances. This should be good.
For the hundredth time within the hour, Jaemin is distracted from his pending paper, but he doesn’t mind. He’d do anything to get away from actually working on it. Besides, he still has a week to work on it. “Oh, right!” He sits up and slides his computer to the side, “It’s interesting actually.”
The way Jaemin starts has you leaning in out of curiosity. This is probably what Yeji feels when you’re preparing to tell her about your day at the gig. “What is it?”
Jaemin lets out a ‘haha,’ then begins, “So, my friend Jeno knows Donghyuck because they went to high school together, and Donghyuck was the guy that was with Renjun that day at the dining hall, so we all basically know each other. I just don’t know Renjun as well because the dude is M.I.A. almost all the time.”
“Mm-hmm, go on.”
“I was telling Jeno how you were doing the painting gig with Renjun—don’t worry I didn’t say anything ’bout how you sorta loathe the guy—and Jeno was saying how Renjun’s always using his free time doing stuff like that.” Jaemin stops talking as if he’s explained every single detail he can about his small story.
“What stuff?” You gesture for him to keep going because you’re missing a handful of information, “You can’t just end it there, the fuck?”
Jaemin laughs again, “Okay, okay, sorry. But in fairness, I was curious too so I said the same thing and asked Jeno to explain it a bit more.” The brown of Jaemin’s eyes visibly move upwards as he tries to recall what Jeno told him, “He told me that Renjun is always M.I.A. because he’s been volunteering at different places. He used to work at an animal shelter downtown, then quit to volunteer at the homeless shelter for women and children. But he quit that too, now he’s been volunteering at the retirement home near here. I guess he took up the painting gig for money though.”
You burst out laughing, “Ah, Na Jaemin…”
“What!?”
“Thank you for the laugh, Jaems,” you say, “But that’s such a bad joke. There’s no way Renjun’s done those things. If it is true, we’re not talking about the same Renjun.” The Renjun you know doing all that stuff? Please… it sounds like something straight out of a book.
“His name is Huang Renjun, right?” Jaemin’s head tilts to the side. You nod. “Then, it’s him.”
You gawk at your friend, “I’m sorry, it’s just… hard to believe that Renjun—the same guy who acts like some douche to total strangers—has done all of that.” It’s hard to picture it all, but it explains why Renjun decided to take up the daycare gig. It was all adding up now, but you’re not letting the realization settle that easily.
“It was hard for me to believe it, too, especially with what you’ve told us about him.” Jaemin uses his arm to prop his head up, “But, I trust Jeno. There’s no reason for him to make all of that up.” Jaemin has a point. You don’t know who this ‘Jeno’ is, but there really would be no use in making this up.
“You’re not making this up, are you?” You ask Jaemin. It’s still seriously hard to believe that all of this information was plausible. It’s as if Renjun, who you always viewed in a bad light, was now picked up and dropped under a new light. One in which you couldn’t even pinpoint if it were good or bad. Curiosity was getting ahead of you and you didn’t like it.
He shakes his head, “Why would I? Ask Renjun if you really don’t believe me.”
“No thanks…” You shake your head, “There’s no way I’m going to ask him about anything. Especially not that.”
“Suit yourself,” Jaemin pulls his laptop back to its previous position, “Anyways, I need to get back to writing this paper.”
With Yeji turning back to her own work, you’re left alone with your thoughts and the newfound idea of Renjun actually being… nice. It coincided with your earlier idea of Renjun repping a smile instead of the seemingly permanent scowl on his face.
No, you weren’t suddenly switching up with how you felt with Renjun because, despite the fact that there is this huge possibility that he spends his free time doing generous deeds, it didn’t automatically dismiss the way he’s been treating you. You guess it was just nice knowing that this sort of mini-hell you’ve been going through because of Renjun can finally be put to a stop.
°•. ✿ .•°
“For Renjun?”
Renjun looks up from his phone before making his way to the counter. He quickly stuffs his phone into his pocket and grabs the drink he’s been craving for the past few days, “Thank you.”
“Have good one!”
“You as well.”
Renjun makes his way out of the cafe, cold drink in hand. At the back of his head, he wonders where Donghyuck is, because according to the time, his class should have been finished ten minutes ago and he still hasn’t texted. That wasn’t like Donghyuck at all. Usually, he would be bombarding the boy with spam texts asking where he was even though he already knew where Renjun would be waiting.
Even with that thought, Renjun shrugs it off, knowing that Donghyuck would find his way to him somehow. He decides to sit down at a nearby table, placing his bag on the chair next to him before fishing his phone back out of his pocket.
As Renjun finally decides to take a sip out of his drink, his mind frustratingly wanders back to that one shift when you’d bought him the drink without his knowledge. He still doesn’t know how you managed to get him his usual, especially since he’s aware he’s never told you it.
He rakes through the depths of his brain to recall when you could have seen him with the drink. The one time you bumped into each other at this Starbucks, it was Donghyuck’s drink he was getting, so there was no way you saw it there. The one or two interactions after that, he doesn’t remember having a drink in hand.
Then he remembers. The day before the first shift.
How the hell could you have remembered that? Were you that attentive?
Why am I thinking so hard about a damn drink?
Maybe it was because the stupid drink was the reason why Renjun’s been feeling a pang of guilt everytime he’s with you. It took that one small random act of kindness to draw Renjun’s attention to the fact he was the one who often started the arguments and bickering between the two of you and you simply just returned his attitude.
“Hey!” Suddenly, a body leaps out from behind him, almost weighing both Renjun and the other person down. It takes a moment for Renjun to realize who it was. He doesn’t even need to turn around to look. In fact, he’s not even startled by what Donghyuck had hoped was a jumpscare.
“What’s up?” Renjun questions, “What took you so long?”
Donghyuck shrugs and plops into the chair in front of Renjun, “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” Renjun retorts. He takes another sip out of his drink and tries to act it off.
Donghyuck shakes his head, “You’re thinking about something. I know because your eye is twitching.” He brings his finger way too close to Renjun’s eye, “I can see it. Now you have to tell me.”
Renjun gives Donghyuck a look before glancing back down at the iced matcha latte sitting right in front of him. Sure, Donghyuck knows of you, but he doesn’t know of the interactions between the two of you. Renjun just doesn’t see the importance of telling Donghyuck these things. But maybe telling someone will get Renjun’s gears turning.
So Renjun tells Donghyuck. From the coffee encounters, to the gig, the rough drafts, the drink, and painting. He makes sure not to miss a detail, trying to avoid sounding biased. He wants to know what Donghyuck’s going to say about this situation and he knows that sounding biased wouldn’t grant answers that fit with the situation.
“It’s the fact that she still found the will to do something nice for me even though I’ve been a literal ass to her,” Renjun taps his index finger against the lid of his drink, “It’s not even that big of a deal but it’s been bugging me.”
Donghyuck sits in silence for a few moments, trying to muster up the perfect thing to tell his friend. “I really don’t know what else to tell you except that you’re stubborn as hell.”
Renjun’s taken aback, “What?”
“Sure, she probably felt bad for making you do the grid thingy on your own, but you’re right. You have been an ass,” Donghyuck bluntly continues.
“So everything that’s lead up until now… it’s my fault?”
“Well, not completely,” Donghyuck points out, “Both of you guys seem to want to spite each other. Plus, you both seem really stubborn, which, adding both of those together, equals a shit show. But, if I were being honest, you started the whole hating each other thing. I feel like if you were nice to her, then she’d be even nicer to you. A bigger person move would be to apologize and be nice.”
It’s once in a blue moon that Donghyuck’s words made sense. Renjun thinks it through—if he were to apologize, or start being nice to you, how would you even react? Wouldn’t it be odd for him to just switch up like that?
Renjun sighs. He feels like ripping his hair out. Maybe he won’t apologize just yet, not when his feelings are foggy. And maybe he won’t actively do nice things, only until he finally senses you wouldn’t react weirdly. He’ll just stop trying to spite you.
“You’re right,” Renjun nods. Donghyuck grins proudly at his friend.
Maybe that’ll do it.
At least he hopes it will.
SIX.
Painting day… five? Six? You’ve lost count if you were being entirely honest.
But it’s not that it mattered.
What mattered was the extremely ironic fact that you had somehow forgotten your earphones at your bedside table when you made it your number one priority on days like these in order to avoid any sort of conversation (or argument) with Renjun. But then again, there was probably a reason why the world had the audacity to pull such a thing.
Since that day at the library, you had not been able to kick the thought of Renjun doing angelic things during his free time when he’s literally been the human embodiment of bird poop on a windshield to you. The curious part of you was itching to ask him about it, see if the way he spoke about it would bring out that hidden angel in him. But when you continue to think about it, you weren’t sure if you would be overstepping some type of imaginary boundary that the both of you had mutually set up. Was there even a right time to ask him about it all? You can’t imagine a time where you and Renjun would even be close enough to have a conversation with the topic. Even now, just physically, Renjun still chooses to paint near the other end of the mural.
Well, as far as progress took him.
“You know if you painted as much as you’ve been staring at me, we’d be done this mural.” Renjun’s voice knocks you back into reality and it’s only then that you realize that you’re blatantly looking at him.
Feeling a rush of heat run through your cheeks, you look away, “Sorry.” You quickly look away and try to make yourself busy with the area you were painting at, brushing the paintbrush despite already having painted that part.
“There’s no paint on your brush,” Renjun points out. He wants to laugh but he tells himself not to because it isn’t ‘on brand.’ Pshh… as if that mattered… but it did to him.
“Oh… oh right,” you laugh awkwardly and dip the paint into the closest colour, bringing it up with no thought.
“And that’s the wrong colour,” Renjun points out again.
You look over at the mural and see that you’ve painted an entirely different colour on top of another colour. You gasp and put the brush down, “I’ll just… repaint it.”
There’s silence as you hurry to clean your brush, using a dirty rag to wipe off the wrong paint so that the remaining remnants of it can dry out quicker. You don’t notice Renjun side-eyeing you, contemplating whether he should say something about the constant mistakes you just made. But then he remembers what Donghyuck told him.
“Are you okay?”
You’re thrown off from the words that just left Renjun’s mouth. You almost snap your neck when you turn to look at him, eyes wide, “Huh?”
He isn’t looking at you, instead keeping his attention steady on what he’s painting, “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”
He’s an empath too? Wait, is that even how an empath is?
“Anyone can see you’re thinking about something.”
And a mind reader?
You are very much close to panicking, blinking at Renjun with no words to say. You’re contemplating whether this was the right time to tell Renjun what you know about him and ask him about it. “It’s nothing, it’s just…”
Renjun turns to look at you for half a second, then turns back to the wall. It’s like he was prompting you to say whatever you were wanting to say.
“I was just curious,” You start, “I heard that you volunteered at the retirement home near campus?” There was no other way to put it. You hope that you don’t sound creepy, as if you’ve been stalking him recently.
“Hmm?” This gets Renjun hooked, “Where did you hear that?”
“Jaemin told me.”
“Ah~ Jeno’s friend,” Renjun replies. Although the conversation has, so far, been awkward, you subconsciously knew it was an improvement from the bickering you both did. It was more civil, and you were actually glad it's taken a turn towards that direction. “What about it?” Renjun holds back the attitude that otherwise would have been evident if he weren’t trying to be nice to you.
You shrug and tighten your lips toward one side of your face, “Like I said. I was just curious.”
Renjun tries not to take anything of what you said, turning back to his painting.
Then you quickly add, “Do you have–uh–any stories?”
Renjun looks at you again and he can feel his interest in this conversation rising. He’s had many stories that he wants to share with his friends, but when he does share them, he’s left with the realization that no one’s listening. “I have a few actually.”
“Can I hear one?” You asked, “Sorry…. I have a soft spot for the elderly… you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Renjun shakes his head, “I’d love to, actually.” You begin to paint once again, this time properly, while you wait for Renjun to begin his story.
“My favourite story since I’ve started volunteering at the retirement home is probably when someone had the genius idea to play hide ‘n seek with the active elders.” Renjun snorts at the memory. A small smile rises up onto his face, but you don’t notice. He continues, “I was the seeker, which wasn’t a good idea since I was new and I wasn’t really familiar with any of the residents there, but I thought it would fun, so I still agreed.
I counted to fifty, and there were rules where they were allowed to go and everything. Just on the main floor, and I remember the activities director made it clear that they were only allowed on the first floor. So when I went to look for them, I found all of them pretty quickly, except one.”
“Don’t tell me he… you know…”
“No he didn’t die!” Renjun gives you a look, “Why in the world would that be my favourite story?”
You shrug, “I mean, you seem like the kind of person to.”
Renjun lets this comment slide and continues, “I looked for him for almost an entire hour. One entire hour. It got to the point where a lot of the other volunteers dropped what they were doing and helped out. I was actually panicking because where else could an old man be in a building that wasn’t too big. Then the phone rang and the desk lady answered it, all she heard was snickering and I knew right then and there that it was that man. He was playing us.”
You couldn’t help but laugh quietly, “Wait, so where was he?”
“We gave up looking. We knew he’d come out sooner or later. It was just enough for us that he was alive,” Renjun retorts, “RIght before my shift ended, the same man walks in through the door with a whole box of beer in one hand and ice cream in the other.” Renjun’s laughing now and the sound takes you by surprise. It was probably the first time you’re hearing him laugh.
You begin laughing along, “That sounds straight out of a movie! How the hell did he get out unnoticed?”
Renjun shrugs, “Beats me. But I like to think that as my favourite story because he fooled us all. And no one knows what he did in those hours he was gone.”
“I get why it’s your favourite.” You can tell just by the way Renjun told his story that he enjoyed these things. You’d think that, because the old man caused so much chaos, he would not deem that as his favourite moment, but you were wrong.
“Yeah,” he nods, “Then a close second would be the times they ask me to sing them their favourite songs. You can really see how playing something as simple as here comes the sun affects their day.”
It didn’t occur to you, at first, that Renjun just indirectly told you that he can sing—though you weren’t sure if he was good or not—but you were still dumbfounded, “You sing?”
“Sometimes,” he hums, “But it’s really nothing. Old people are impressed by anything.” Renjun puts the paintbrush down and flicks his wrist up to check the time, “Anyways, time’s almost up. We should start cleaning up.”
And you both do. You both go through your usual cleaning routine before dragging all everything back into the daycare’s small closet. Once you were both were ready to leave, you go your separate ways, saying goodbye each other with small, subtle waves.
And you know what was funny about all of this?
For the first time ever since you both met, there was zero negative intent behind any of your guys’ thoughts and actions.
SEVEN.
One new thing that you’ve learned from Renjun was that he was a pretty good storyteller, and alongside that, he had lots of stories to tell.
Wait that’s two things.
Nevermind that… The last two shifts of painting were pleasingly occupied with Renjun going on and on about his experiences at his volunteering opportunities. He jumped from talking about dogs giving birth to dressing up as an elf for an event at the children’s hospital—it’s like he’s lived so many lives in one.
A small part of you was jealous of the fact that he was able to experience all of this in such a small amount of time, but hearing these stories through him made up for that pint of jealousy. After one of his stories, Renjun had stopped what he was doing and turned to you, “Do you have any stories?”
You were slightly taken aback by the question, “Me?” It was a genuine question.
He nodded before putting down some strokes of paint, “Yeah. Do you have any stories?” There’s a tone in his voice that told you that he was being serious. He wasn’t being the Renjun that you’ve grown to know the past few weeks—but then again, maybe that Renjun wasn’t who Renjun really was.
“Not really,” you replied, “But don’t worry about me.”
“It doesn’t need to be like my stories,” he pointed out, “Just a story.” Renjun gave you time to think of a story, providing some prompts for you so that you were able to come up with one on the spot.
“How about a time when you thought you were actually done for?”
At that, you feel a memory surface from your first year of university when you, Yeji, and Jaemin were caught underage drinking in Jaemin’s dorm by the RA, so you told him the story. How you all were completely drained from your first set of midterms and how drugs weren’t the best resort. So why not drink? You remember Jaemin had gotten a bottle or two of soju from his friend from a frat and he’s been keeping it for ‘times like these.’ In the middle of the small binge, someone knocked on the door, and you remember Jaemin saying he was expecting somebody and was stupid enough to not actually look out the peephole before opening the door.
“And guess who it was?” you questioned.
“Ummm,” Renjun lined one of the pictures, “His friend?”
“Nope,” you shook your head, “It was an RA. Out of all the people. It really had to be an RA. We were caught and he threatened to tell a higher-up, I’m not sure who.” Though it wasn’t that much of a problem, you remember your seventeen-year-old self feeling fear that was probably harnessed from tens of people. You were scared—no—you were horrified. It hadn’t even been two full months into the semester and you’re already in trouble.. “You should’ve seen how me and Yeji were begging for forgiveness. It was probably the deepest bow I’ve ever bowed.”
“What happened, then?”
“Right in the middle of our apologies, the RA and Jaemin started laughing like maniacs,” you recalled, “Yeji and I looked up and they were laughing at us.” You click your tongue against your teeth, “That motherfucker Jaemin pranked us. The RA wasn’t an actual RA.”
Renjun bursted out into laughter, “Are you serious?”
You brought yourself to laugh, “Yes. I was so close to ending my friendship with Jaemin. But he treated us to food the next week so… It’s kind of a stupid story but I can still remember how I felt when it happened.”
“No, I get it,” Renjun replies. He stands back from the mural to look at you, “Especially knowing how seriously they act on underage drinking, that must’ve been scary.”
“Yeah, I think that’s mainly why Yeji and I were freaking out,” you nod. Realizing that you’ve finally finished the section you’ve been working on for the afternoon, you put the paintbrush down and pick up a rag.
“Are you done for today?” Renjun questions. You look over at him and he’s still putting down strokes of paints, “What time is it?”
You’re still trying to get used to you and Renjun getting along despite it being a good two weeks since you both had chosen to become civil with each other. But at the same time, it felt like weight was being taken off of your shoulders. It wasn’t like Renjun was a burden, but every time you had a shift at the daycare, you never really had the motivation to go because of him.
But it was different now.
“There’s still like fifteen minutes before shift ends,” you say, glancing at your phone, “Wanna start cleaning?”
Renjun nods, “Let me just finish this and I’ll be right behind you.”
°•. ✿ .•°
“Afternoon, Joy,” Renjun enters the daycare with a gentle smile, “How’s your day been?”
Joy grins from behind her computer, “Great, I guess. Yours?”
“Not bad.”
Joy nods in response, “I’m sorry, I should have said this sooner, but today’s shift has been moved last minute.” She moves her rolling chair to the side so that she’s able to give Renjun all her attention.
Renjun frowns, “Why’s that?” He’s not sure if he could even think of a reason why a shift could be cancelled and moved, “Have you told Y/N?”
“Forecast says there’s going to be heavy rain today, so I think it would be better not to put new paint on the mural in case it gets washed off easily,” Joy states. At the end of her explanation, you enter the building with a quick greeting, situating yourself next to Renjun.
“But isn’t the rain for tonight? That seems to be enough for the paint to dry.”
“What’s going on?” You asked obliviously.
Renjun nods, “Our shift’s cancelled for today because of the rain.”
“Yes, but it’s better safe than sorry,” Joy sighs, “But you guys can go and have a rest day for today. I’ll see you both in a few days!”
Without another word, Joy swings herself back to her computer and you and Renjun leave the building slightly confused. The sky looked perfectly normal on the way here. The air was still. There was no sign of a storm happening tonight. But Joy’s statements were confirmed when you pulled out your handy-dandy cellphone and tapped at the weather app.
“She’s right,” you hold the phone for Renjun to look and he simply nods, “I guess I’ll see you next shift?” Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, you wait for Renjun’s response. He nods.
“Yeah, I will.” Then you and Renjun begin walking down the same direction. You both hesitate before taking another step, giving each other a look. “Where are you going?”
“My dorm room.”
“Oh, me too,” Renjun laughs awkwardly, “Uh… wanna walk together then?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” you joke as you begin walking. Renjun follows shortly, keeping a good distance between you both. He chooses to walk your pace, keeping his eyes trained on the pavement in front of him. Although he feels like it should be awkward, there’s a comfortable silence between the both of you.
It’s when the air starts feeling more humid than earlier that Renjun notices that it has started raining. At first, he didn’t mind it. The way the rain fell onto his head softly tickled him, but he liked it. It felt like soft kisses, if that even made sense. He looks over at you and he notices that you’re not bothered by the rain either.
“It’s like Joy has superpowers,” you say, “One second, the sky’s blue, now it’s raining.” You only hope that the rain doesn’t get worse than now. Your dorm room is still a bit of a walk away and you’re not in the mood to get drenched.
Renjun nods, “Next thing we know, it’s pouring.”
And as if someone had snapped their fingers, the rain gets heavier, pelting you and Renjun from above. The raindrops completely contrast how they just were, thick and feeling like punches instead of the shower of kisses. You gasp and slip your bag off, bringing it into your arms to protect your expensive belongings inside.
“What the hell!?” You say over the loud pitter patters of the droplets. You don’t know why you’re frozen in place. Perhaps it was the rush of cold water washing over you.
Renjun thinks differently, opting to make a break for it. He glances over at you in near panic, noticing immediately that you’re not moving at all. Then, without thinking, Renjun takes no longer than a second to pull you along with him, sprinting down the narrowing pathway as it leads to the nearest building. He swings the door open, careful not to hit you in the process. When he takes out a key identical to yours, you realize then that this was his dorm building, “I think you should stay in my dorm while you wait it out. You might get sick.”
You hesitate and think this situation through. Going to Renjun’s dorm? Were you even that close? What if–
“If you’re thinking about what I think you’re thinking, no I’m not,” Renjun grumbles, “Let’s go.” He waves you in and you’re led to impulsively deciding that, yes, you will accept his offer. And it’s mostly because you don’t want to be drenched in the rain, nor do you want to stand in this hot vestibule for however long the rain will last.
“I hope the dorm isn’t messy, but it’s mostly my roommate who’s messy.” It sounds like Renjun’s speaking to himself but you know he’s trying to warn you. He’s walking a few strides in front of you, looking back subtly to make sure you’re actually following him down the hall.
Soon, you find yourself walking through Renjun’s front door, greeted with a waft of some kind of candle scent. You can’t really pinpoint the smell to its exact fragrance, but you can describe it as homey–something warm and welcoming.
“Lonjoon!” A voice exclaims from the small couch, “You’re ho– oh, hello?”
You recognize the boy who stands up from the couch as Donghyuck, both from the times you’ve encountered Renjun and from Jaemin. You wave awkwardly, “Sorry for intruding.”
Renjun speaks up, “Y/N’s dorm building is by the edge of campus and it’s pouring outside. I offered for her to stay here while we wait for it to stop.”
“I don’t mind,” Donghyuck grins, “Hmm, so you’re Y/N? I’ve heard a bunch of things about you from Renjun! I’m Donghyuck.”
Your brow cocks and you give Renjun, who’s sliding his shoes off and fixing them to the side, a look before turning back to Donghyuck, “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he says, “You’re just as pretty as Renjun sa–”
Renjun throws his damp hoodie at Donghyuck’s face with the goal of shutting him up, “How about you go to your room and we take the living room?” Renjun approaches his best friend, holding him by his shoulders before pushing him in the direction of one of the rooms. It’s funny simply because he doesn’t even wait for him to reply.
Once he has gotten rid of Donghyuck, Renjun turns on his toes to face you, “Sorry, that’s just how he is… don’t listen to him, he makes stuff up all the time.” And although Renjun’s actually telling the truth—because no, he’s never called you pretty in front Donghyuck—he knows Donghyuck’s comments are believable to those who aren’t used to his shenanigans.
There were two ways you could go about it. Ignore him and make the situation less awkward, or tease him and see what he says. Either choice would be funny, especially because you could see that this boy is on edge with what his friend just said. But since you’re feeling nice, you choose the former option, “So, what do you plan on doing while we wait for the rain?”
Renjun quietly sighs in relief, “We can put something on to watch? I’m just not sure what we should watch though.” He makes his way to the couch and he gestures you to sit in the spot next to him.
It’s crazy how your mind works in times like these. At the back of your head, you almost make sure to keep an array of movies to watch, ones that you’re sure everyone would be content with. But with Renjun, one movie hovers above the others because you could still recall your astonishment when this whole adult man hadn’t seen the one movie you adore with your heart.
“How about the Pursuit of Happyness?” you say, “You haven’t seen it… so why not now?”
Renjun nods, “Yeah, sure. That sounds good to me.” Within a few clicks of the remote, the movie begins and Renjun’s offering you some snacks he managed to pull from the kitchen (or that have already been there, courtesy of Donghyuck). The rain outside is still going at it, but the movie masks the sound of the raindrops striking repeatedly against the windows.
Renjun’s incredibly entangled in the film. You can easily catch this in the way his eyes were steady on the screen as he leans towards it. He mutters comments every now and then, ones that complement your own thoughts of the film.
“It’s… it’s just going downhill,” Renjun frowns. His eyes finally leave the screen about half way through the movie, “I can’t believe you’re making me watch this. If it has a bad ending, I’m holding you against the emotional damage I’ll be experiencing.”
“I mean you did agree to watch it,” you point out. Biting your lip, you hold a laugh back despite the movie not even being comedic. It’s Renjun and his current state that’s making you laugh. It’s new territory for you, if that was even the right way to describe it.
So far, you’ve only met the stubborn and spiteful Renjun, and most recently, the generous and compassionate Renjun. His actual character, you’ve learned, sits in the middle of both of those. But the one you’re watching this movie with was different. He was vulnerable, ready to cry whenever the movie finally pushes past his breaking point. But you’re glad to see that he isn’t afraid to show it to you, especially since you both were still just starting this odd friendship.
“What the fuck. I can’t do this shit. What the hell?”
You snap out of your mini trance and you realize why a string of profanities are leaving Renjun’s mouth. It was the very scene that had you bawling like a baby the first time you watched it, and tearing up now. The scene at the subway station.
You let Renjun watch it, keeping silent as you pay attention to the screen, too. You could feel your heart ache, the scene grasping it, as your mouth grew into a frown.
In a hushed tone, Renjun questions out loud, “Please tell me that this is the worst it gets?” Looking over at Renjun, you notice that he’s actually crying. There were tears streaming down his face and he’s sniffling like he’s caught the annual flu.
“I don’t want to spoil it,” you retort, sniffling yourself. Looking around, you spot a tissue box sitting at the centre of the coffee table in front of both of you. You reach for it, holding it out to Renjun.
“Thanks,” he sniffles. Once Renjun’s finished blowing his nose, he falls silent again, attention all on the movie. He’s so attentive that you know thoughts are running through his head at an unreadable pace.
Next thing you know, the movie’s end credits are rolling and Renjun flops into the couch’s cushion, “I get why you were surprised when I said I haven’t seen that movie.” He turns his head to face you, “Because that was a good movie.”
The way Renjun’s looking at you causes you to shrink under his gaze, though it wasn’t in a way where you were cowering. You felt… shy? There wasn’t a word that was coming up that described it precisely, but shy was alarmingly close. “I’m glad you liked it.” He stretches his lips into some form of lazy grin. There’s a very brief silence between you both but it was enough for you to recognize that the rain had stopped, or at least, it had gotten weaker over the past few hours.
“Oh the rain’s stopped,” you say quickly, “I guess I’ll get going then.” Within seconds, you’re up and grabbing your belongings. Then, you’re at the door, slipping your sneakers on thoughtlessly. At that point, you’re aware that it’s almost dinner time and the sun’s probably setting if you could see past the clouds.
Renjun follows you to the door, “It looks dark out, do you want me to walk with you?”
If your life were a reality TV show, this would be when the camera unsteadily zooms into your face as it simultaneously changes expressions into one that’s a mix of confusion and shock. “No, it’s fine, there’s probably some people walking from class.” The door’s open behind you and you’re ready to sprint out. But Renjun stops you.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he grins, “I’ll see you around.”
“Goodnight, Renjun.”
Renjun waves and shuts the door. He lets out a huff before turning around to find Donghyuck standing there with the most irritating smirk sitting on his face.
“What?”
Donghyuck gasps, “Nothing!”
Renjun pushes past him to turn the TV off before going to fold the blanket he was previously using, “Then don’t make that face if you don’t have a reason.”
Donghyuck snickers and shakes his head in a way that only irked Renjun even more. He chooses not to say anything else because he knows that Renjun’s mind works fast enough to work two and two together.
That’s how it usually works, at least.
EIGHT.
Routines are meant to be routines.
Every shift you and Renjun were supposed to arrive, bring the supplies you needed to the wall, paint, realize that it’s time to clean up, and then leave. While you both painted, Renjun’s role was to tell one of his many experiences and your usual role was to listen. If not, comfortable silence or music will often fill that silence.
But today was different.
You and Renjun were finally painting the second layer of the mural, and although it initially wasn’t necessary, the second layer of paint gave the painting a bolder look. So you both went for it.
The day was going as it usually would. Renjun had finished a more recent story from the old folks’ home, going on about how he’s excited for Thursday. “Throwback Thursday. We play music and shows and films from their times. Even if they already do that anyway, it’s a bit more special because practically all the residents attend.”
“That actually sounds like a lot of fun,” you say genuinely, “I can’t imagine the nostalgia they go through.” You squat down and dip the paintbrush into the paint.
“How about you come with me, then?” Renjun offers, “Are you busy on Thursday?” He stands and waits for your reply, watching as you freeze suddenly at his question. You only freeze because this isn’t how it usually was. He’s supposed to say something like ‘it is fun’ or go on to tell you a story about a previous throwback Thursday. But asking you to come with him?
“Me?” You verbalize, “Come with you?”
“Yeah!” Renjun nods, “They love getting all the help they can get.” He carelessly strokes the brush against the wall and watches as the concrete completely disappears underneath the paint. “And it would be cool for you to be there. That way we can share one of these stories.”
“Um…” You don’t like using agendas, but right now would have been the right time to have one. “I’m not sure, actually. I’ll let you know before then, though. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Day of is fine, too.”
The minute you get home, you feel a strong urge to tell Yeji about the invitation. But knowing Yeji, you know damn well she’s going to convince you to go.
You guess correctly when she peeks over her laptop and over at you after you’re brief ramble about it. “Didn’t you say that you and Renjun were on better terms now?” You nodded. “Well, I think there wouldn’t be any harm in going. Imagine how horrible you’d look if you rejected that opportunity.”
“Renjun would understand,” you say quietly.
“Well, do you want to go?” Yeji questioned.
You blink at your best friend, “It’s not that I don’t want to go. It’s just…” You pause and try to think about why you’re stressing about something that wasn’t even that big of a deal. Renjun literally just invited you to volunteer. It’s not like he asked you on a date (and why would he?). It was just the idea of him actually asking you to spend time with him outside of that gig that made you stop and think.
“There’s your answer.”
“Huh?” your head tilts to the side, “Answer? Where?”
Yeji snorts and turns her attention back to her laptop, “You just said ‘it’s not that I don’t want to go.’ That implies that you do wanna go. Then go.”
With a little bit more pushing from Yeji, you find yourself standing in front of Renjun’s dorm building that very Thursday with a tote bag and your head filled with thoughts that you couldn’t even comprehend. If you focused hard enough, you could pick out ones about what today’s dinner will be, how the residents were like outside of Renjun’s stories, and what the retirement home looked like. There were traces of what remaining tasks you needed done for the mural and if you’ve somehow left assignments unfinished. Then there were ones of Renjun and–
“Sorry for making you wait.” You jump and find Renjun appear in your field of vision. He’s fixing his crossbody bag over his shoulder, then you watch has he fixes the cap on his head, “I’m excited! Let’s go then?”
You and Renjun make small talk on the way to the retirement, which you admit, thought would be further away. But when Renjun told you that it was just a walking distance from campus, he wasn’t lying. The walk only lasted about ten minutes and the next thing you know, you’re telling the lady at the front desk your name.
“Alright, here’s your volunteer badge,” she slides you a laminated tag, “And here’s yours, Renjun!” You follow Renjun, who pins his own name tag to the left side of his chest. He pats it before saying goodbye to the lady, turning to you to see if you were set to go in.
Renjun leads the way into the main lounge area. It was a rather large room, one wall being entirely windows. By the front, or what you believed was the front, was a big fireplace, and by that fireplace, a small grand piano. On top of the fireplace was a big TV that was currently playing the news, not that anyone was paying attention.
Scattered throughout the room sat tables and padded chairs, some of which were occupied by residents. It was almost exactly how you imagined it, almost book-like, or ones you’d see in movies. It was cozy, yet not too cozy for it to be suffocating.
“Oh, Renjun, you’re here!” A slightly older guy seems to appear from the side, waving, “And you must be Y/N? Renjun told us you might be joining. Nice to see you actually did!” He sticks a hand out and grins, “I’m Taeyong. I coordinate a majority of the activities for the facility.”
You shake his hand, “Nice to meet you, Taeyong. I’m a little nervous.”
Taeyong shakes his head, “Don’t be! Everyone’s pretty nice here, especially in the afternoon.” He lets out a quiet laugh, “Well anyways, we just called down the other residents so we’re just waiting for them to come. Then we start exactly at five.”
Taeyong turns to Renjun, “You’re taking over for music right?” Renjun nods and cracks his fingers as if he’s about to go step into a boxing ring.
“I usually take the role as emcee, but I was told I had other duties to go about for the next hour,” Taeyong says carefully, “Y/N, would you mind being the emcee? I promise you it’s not that bad. I even have cue cards if you need it.” Taeyong holds out a small pile of flashcards, holding them out to you.
Renjun lights up at the idea, “It would be fun if you did it! All you have to do is prompt the songs and the residents will raise their hands. Then you go up to them and hold up the mic to their mouths for their answer. Sorta like a game show host.”
“I guess I can try,” you say carefully. What was the worse that could happen?
“Great!” Taeyong claps his hands together, “Thank you so much, Y/N. I appreciate it!” He hands you the cue cards and goes to leave, “Have fun guys!”
Once Taeyong was gone, Renjun turns to you, “I know it’s a heavy job but don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone. I promise you, the old folks have gone through a lot, so slip-ups won’t matter to them at all.”
You nodded, “I hope so. You better help me up there if something goes wrong.” You give him a look of warning, though it was playful and meant well. Renjun knew how Throwback Thursdays worked—this was your first one—so you don’t really have a feel of how it should be brought out.
“I will, don’t worry,” Renjun ensures, “How bout this. I’ll do the introduction and then you go from there. That way, you’re not super lost.”
“That would help,” you grin.
Soon, little by little, the residents begin filling the room, taking seats at what you understood as their usual seats. They chattered amongst themselves, having conversations that mostly consisted of today’s weather or the news that was playing on the TV. From a nearby table, you overhear two ladies lightheartedly trash-talking each other, arguing over who would get the most correct songs for this week’s Throwback Thursday.
You can’t help but laugh at the bickering. Renjun notices this and smiles to himself. He’s glad you’re enjoying it so far. “There’s a leaderboard, if you’re wondering why they’re so serious about this,” Renjun points out, “Well not really an official one, but they keep track of it themselves. I don’t even know how but they do.”
“That explains it,” you laugh, “I think it’s cute.”
Renjun nods, “It is. They remind me of kids sometimes. They get happy over the smallest things. I admire it.”
This comment makes your heart do a ball change—two quick beats before settling back into its normal rhythm. It was just endearing seeing Renjun be all soft around what he loves doing. It only hits much harder when this wasn’t the Renjun you initially knew.
First impressions were not always the best impressions.
“I think we can start with the intro,” Renjun nudges your elbow. He starts making his way to the front of the room. You trail right behind him, respectfully greeting the residents as you make eye contact with them. They obviously weren’t familiar with you, but they still smiled nonetheless.
Renjun grabs the mic, turning it on before giving it a light tap to test it, “Good afternoon everyone! Can you all hear me?” You see some of the residents nod, others verbally responding with the loudest whoop they can let out. “Perfect! How’s everyone doing this afternoon?” There’s a chorus of different answers, but you can tell that they all were content with their day.
“I’m happy to hear that! Welcome to this week’s Throwback Thursday! I think you’re all familiar with me, my name is Renjun!” Renjun turns to you, and gestures, “Today, I have my partner Y/N with me to help out! Can we give her a warm welcome?” Similar to earlier, they enter a chorus of replies, greeting you with waves and smiles. This made you feel much more comfortable.
“Okay! So you know how all this works, I play a song on the piano, and if you know it, raise your hand. I’ll trust Y/N’s judgment on who raised their hands first. She’ll come up to you all and then you can give her the answer! Everything clear?” Again, a chorus of replies. “Then let’s begin!”
Renjun hands the mic over to you, whispering a ‘have fun’ and a ‘you got this’ before sitting down behind the piano.
You look down at the cue cards given to you by Taeyong and find that it was the list of songs that Renjun was going to play for the night. There were about twenty songs listed down along with the artist. You felt a sense of relief wash over you.
“Hello everyone! Are you all ready for the first song?” you question. You still feel a bit nervous, but from how Renjun went through with the intro, you knew exactly how you want to host. The residents cheered and you can feel the anticipation. It was nice that they were all willing to participate. “Okay, this one is really easy, so get your hands ready! Renjun, cue the music!”
Renjun smiles and nods, placing his hands on the keys for the first song. He begins playing it effortlessly and you’re a bit taken aback by the way he was playing the song well—it was My Girl by The Temptations. Renjun had only played the intro when hands were already shooting up. Your eyes naturally fall on a man seated near the windows, glasses slipping to the tip of his nose.
You grin and quickly make your way over, “I believe you had your hand up first!” Your eyes find a last name on his walker, “Mr. Moon. What’s your answer?”
You bring the mic up near his lips and nod for him to answer. Before he speaks, he leans forward, “It is My Girl by The Temptations.”
Although you already knew the answer, you still look down at the flash cards, “My, my, my…” You pretend that the answer is wrong, frowning and letting your voice trail before switching up, “My Girl by The Temptations is correct! One point for Mr. Moon!”
You hear some of the other residents chuckle at your improvisation, clapping out of joy. You don’t notice as you walk back to the front, but Renjun’s smile grows wider.
“Next song!” You read it, and hum, “This one’s a few decades newer, but I know you all will know this one!” You turn to Renjun, quietly signalling for him to begin the song. You watch the residents as they wait for Renjun to start the song’s snippet. Again he plays the intro, an easy-to-recognize sequence bouncing across the room.
A different man raises his hand first, so you move across the room swiftly. This man doesn’t have a nametag, “Do you know the answer, sir?”
“Of course I do, I remember going to their concert back in the day!” He speaks through the mic. The people around you react, eyes widening.
“Oh, so you should very well know it, right?” You question, “Were you a fan of them?”
“A big, big fan,” the man uses his hands to speak, throwing his arms to gesture something large, “Good ‘ol days. But anyways, the answer is Open Arms by Journey. One of my favourites.”
“I guess you already know that the answer is correct!” you laugh, “Can’t argue with a fan. One point for you, sir!” He nods his head in pride before you turn to walk back to the front. At this point, you’re gaining more confidence despite it barely even starting. In a way, the interactions came naturally.
“The next song is one that might not come to you all easily since it’s a bit newer, but I guarantee that at least one of you will know it,” you say through the mic.
Renjun begins with the intro, and you’re familiar with the song because you’ve heard your parents play it plenty of times in the car growing up. So far, none of the residents had brought their hands up to answer. You’re actually quite surprised to see that no one was familiar with the song’s intro.
Renjun continues to play the song.
Then he begins to sing.
You remember when he had first told you about his time here at the retirement home and how he sang for the residents. You remember him completely dismissing the fact that he did sing for these people and after that, the subject wasn’t really brought up.
Now that you’re here and volunteering with him, you finally get a chance to hear him sing.
“Oceans apart… day after day… and I slowly go insane…”
What the fuck.
You almost say this out loud and through the mic in front of many many elderly people and you suddenly feel compelled to slap yourself.
Renjun’s voice was unexpected, but it was beautiful. You really didn’t have any idea of how his singing voice would sound but now that you’re hearing it, it perfectly matched his speaking voice. It was satin-like and captivating—a voice you could and you’d honestly like to listen to all day.
“How can we say forever?”
Your eyes drift to Renjun, who’s focused. His eyes are on the music sheets sitting in front of him. The expression on his face is calm and gentle, words of which could also describe his singing. You hope Renjun doesn’t notice that you’re looking at him, because if he did, it would be humiliating.
“Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be right here waiting for you…”
Then your heart does this thing.
It was very similar to the little skip that it did earlier, but now, instead of falling back to the rhythm it usually followed, it only sped up in tempo.
What the fuck. You repeat to yourself. Your eyes widen before dropping to your feet in panic. Because it really shouldn’t be doing that. Not at this point in time.
“I raised my hand first!” One of the ladies knock you back into reality and you realize that a few people have had their hands raised. She was speaking to another woman sitting at the same table and you recognize them as the two women from earlier. You smile sheepishly, almost forgetting what your job is and opting to listen to Renjun and only Renjun for the rest of the game. You apologize, “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite notice. Can we play a small game of rock, paper, scissors to settle this fairly?”
They play the game as you make your way up to them. Once it was settled, you bring the mic up to the winner, the lady who claimed she raised her hand first. “What do you think the song title is?”
“Oh, I know what the song title is,” she chuckled, “Right Here Waiting by Richard Marx.”
“I love the confidence!” You say, laughing, “You are correct! One point for you, ma’am!” The woman cheered, ecstatic she got the point. Then, like before, you return to the front and you start at the beginning of the cycle for the next songs.
You try your best to keep yourself together, especially when the song’s difficulty requires Renjun to sing part of it. He had a voice to be proud of. You have no idea why he didn’t choose to brag about it. But maybe that’s just Renjun.
What’s ironic was the fact that Renjun was almost as charmed by you as you were with him. However, it wasn’t because of the way you sang, because if you were ever asked to sing, you’d warn them about temporarily losing the sense of hearing, but it was simply through the way you interacted with the residents. The best word Renjun could find to describe the way you spoke to them was genuine.
You genuinely seemed to enjoy speaking to them, making small talk throughout the game so that you kept them entertained. Renjun also concluded that you were actually a pretty witty person. Jokes and fitting comments were flying out of your mouth whenever you pleased, giving the residents a reason to laugh hearty laughs.
Though it really didn’t appear to be that big of a deal to anyone else, Renjun found it endearing. It was simply just a trait that he found worthy of adoring.
Renjun slumps behind the piano relieved that the instrument was helping him hide the smile that was uncontrollably growing upon his lips. And if you see him with that big, fat, doting smile, he wouldn’t know what to do.
At the end of the game and its conclusion, you actually find yourself feeling bummed that it was over. You stand at the side of the room, watching as the residents either take their leave or decide to stay in the lounge room a bit longer. You bow to the ones who cross your path, thanking them for being great participants.
“Will you be back next week?” a lady stops to talk to you, “You were refreshing to have. That young boy, Taeyong, follows the same script and it does get very tedious after a while.”
“I would love to, actually,” you say, frowning, “But I’m not sure if I will. Renjun invited me to join but I don’t know if this is just a one-time thing.”
“Oh, well,” she smiles sadly, “If you ever decide to return, you’re always welcome.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” you mirror her expression before she walks away.
In her place, another lady stops and reaches for your hand, “Thank you for a wonderful time!”
You shake your head, “It’s nothing, really. Renjun played a large part as well, I shouldn’t take all the credit.” Over her shoulder you see Renjun speaking to a few of the male residents.
“Oh! Speaking of that lovely boy, are you two together?” Her head tilts to the side in curiosity, “You two make quite a cute couple!”
Her comment makes you freeze in shock for a short moment. You and Renjun? A couple?
“Oh!” you shake your head, almost to the point where you could feel your head coming loose from the rest of your body, “We’re not dating! It’s nothing like that. It’s really the opposite! We only started being friends not too long ago!”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” she only picks up your last comment, “You ever go to connect a plug to a socket without looking?” You nod your head but she could tell that you’re confused. “You miss it a couple of times, making small adjustments so you can get that damn plug into the socket. Then, finally, right when you get it in, the electricity runs through it to serve its purpose.”
“I-I don’t understand what you’re saying, ma’am.”
“I’m saying that it doesn’t matter when you guys started ‘being friends,’” she laughs lightly, “If two pieces fit together, then that’s that. I know a match when I see one.”
And without another peep, the lady walks away, singing a tune under her breath.
NINE.
“Is this enough?” Renjun’s pouring paint into one of the paint trays at the bottom of the ladder.
You look down from the top of the ladder, “That looks like it, thank you.” You paint a few more strokes down before climbing back down to grab the newly filled tray. The goal for the day was to finish the second layer so that over the last few shifts, you and Renjun could focus on details and finishing touches. Judging by how much work was left, the two of you were probably going to end up working overtime. But none of you minded.
“You know, some of the residents were asking for you when I returned a few days ago?” Renjun watches as you pick up the tray. When your feet find their way onto the first step of the ladder, Renjun unconsciously steps forward to keep the ladder steady, “I think they really loved your company.” The corner of his mouth quirks upward at the recent memory of you and your interactions. Not one inch of his bone regretted inviting you.
“Really?” you light up, “I enjoyed their company, too.”
Renjun replies, “Yeah, really. I guess you made a really good impression on them.” Then Renjun makes a witty, lighthearted comment, “Unlike you did on me.”
You laugh and look down, “The feeling’s mutual.”
Out of interest, Renjun lets this burning question leave his lips, “Why did you hate me so much anyway?” Then he shakes his head, “I mean I understand why, but I wanna hear your side of the story.”
You take a seat on one of the middle stairs of the ladder and rest your head on your arm, “I guess… everytime we ran into each other, you weren’t exactly the nicest. I remember I apologized when I accidentally bumped into you that one morning before class and you made a comment about me not being able to afford your shirt or something even when I apologized.”
“In fairness, it was before an eight AM and that shit was hot,” Renjun defends, “But you’re right. I could’ve handled it better.” He doesn’t even remember why he blew up that morning. But he does remember a feeling of remorse the moment he arrived in class and was able to reflect on what he just did.
“And that one time when I took Donghyucks’s drink,” you face palm because you don’t know how you even managed to do that, “You didn’t even say thank you when I gave you the drink when I could’ve taken it. Especially since it was you who had gone up to me.”
Renjun’s face heats up. He really was a whole douchebag to you. “I was in a hurry. But I could’ve handled that better, too.” Renjun pauses and drops his head to look at his feet, “I think my apologies are long overdue. But I really am sorry for both of those times. I don’t know… they were sorta both in the heat of the moment… but if I could go back, I’d treat you better. Maybe we could’ve gotten along faster.”
“You’re forgiven,” you reply seriously, swinging your legs, “Besides, it’s not like we haven’t made any progress.” You look up at the mural and remember how your relationship with Renjun had been when you both started it. It was almost the complete opposite. “I think I owe you an apology, too. It’s not like I’m completely innocent either.”
Renjun turns to go back to his spot, “You don’t even need to apologize. You were just treating me the way I was treating you.”
“Doesn’t make it okay,” you stand up and dip the paintbrush in paint.
“True, but still.” Renjun raises his head to look at you, “But I forgive you too. Even though I still don’t think you need to say sorry.”
You don’t say anything else. Instead, you playfully roll your eyes. Despite your reaction, you’re actually glad that you and Renjun were finally at that point where you could joke about about the past. Being able to openly share how you both felt, and just conversing about it proves that your relationship with him has shifted. It’s relieving.
“Hey Y/N?”
You look through the ladder and find Renjun staring up at you. His hair is falling back, fringe brushing past the corners of his eyes. He looks pretty. “Yeah?”
“It’s getting late,” he says, “Want to wrap up and get something to eat?”
You’re compelled to make a ‘like a date?’ comment, but you hold back. You and Renjun just made complete amends. You can’t be that bold just yet, “Sure. Where to?”
°•. ✿ .•°
A handful of bites and sips of pop later, you and Renjun are walking back from the closest fast-food restaurant from campus. The topic of conversation had been jumping from one to another, keeping the atmosphere comfortable and busy. Currently, it was about the pet peeves that came along with your roommates despite still loving them with all your heart.
“Sometimes,” Renjun sighs, “Donghyuck, he literally doesn’t wash the bottom of the cups cause he thinks that only water rinsing it is enough. He only scrubs the rim of the cup. Once, I was filling my cup with water and I see remnants of dried out coke floating from the bottom.”
You gasp and make a face, shaking your head, “That’s disgusting! Imagine if you didn’t see that. You’d just be ingesting dried coke.”
“He learned from that,” Renjun shrugs, “Cause even he experienced it. He always scrubs the bottom of the cups first now.”
“Good,” you retort, “Because I was going to tell you to remind me never to drink from a cup when I go over to your guys’ dorm.” Renjun laughs but he can’t help but interpret your comment in a way that could be considered overthinking. “For me, Yeji used to wash her clothes without putting them with like colours.”
“How is her wardrobe not fucked up?” Renjun sends you a look, “Especially her white clothing.”
You shrug, “Beats me. But that one time I caught her, I felt like her mom teaching her right from wrong. I have no idea how she’s never been told off in all her years of life.”
“I don’t know what’s worse, that, or Donghyuck’s old habit.” You shake your and head and look down. You wonder if Yeji had any pet peeves about you. What would they even be? You didn’t feel like you were doing anything pet-peeve-worthy. But then again, Yeji didn’t see anything wrong with mixing her clothing up.
When you see your dorm building growing in your field of vision, your eyes widen and you turn to Renjun, “We missed your building!” You stop in your tracks and try to do a one-eighty to go back to Renjun’s building. The two of you were so caught up in conversation that you missed it.
“No I did it on purpose,” Renjun shakes his head, “I wanted to walk you back.” A tickling sensation subtly appears and disappears in your stomach.
“You really didn’t have to!” you say shaking your hands as a way to deny his kind action, “The campus is safe anyways! I could have walked on my—”
“I know it is, but I wanted to,” he shrugs, “There’s a difference.” He’s right. There is a difference. Because it’s one thing to walk you home with some worry that you’d get into some form of accident, you know, to ensure your safety (which you understood as basic human decency), but it’s another to want to walk you home. Even with the knowledge that you’d be safe because there were other students probably walking the same way, he wanted to walk you home and it was probably because he wanted to spend more time with you.
You don’t know how to react to that implication.
He starts walking towards your building, hands stuffed into his sweater’s pockets. When he senses that you weren’t following, he turns back, “What are you doing?”
“Sorry,” you sigh, “I zoned out.”
You speed up to reach his side, trying to process whether or not you were overthinking or not. Before you know it, you’re at the doors of your building and you’re fishing your keys out of your pocket, “Thanks for walking me here, I guess.”
“You guess?” Renjun laughs softly.
“I mean like, it was unexp–”
“I’m joking,” Renjun rolls his eyes playfully, “I wanted to.” There it is again.
“Anyways, I’ll head in now,” you say, avoiding any awkward silences, “Goodnight.”
He grins, and you swear you see his eyes twinkle, “Goodnight.”
When you reach your dorms, Yeji’s standing at the entry way, arms crossed with a smirk, “I saw Mr. Renjun drop you off… care to explain?”
“What are you even doing staring out the window?” you glare at her and kick your shoes off. Walking past her, you tug your bag off your arm and plop it beside the couch, “And explain what? He just wanted to drop me off.”
“Key word is ‘wanted’,” Yeji walks up to you and digs her index finger into your shoulder, “I’m getting this psychic-netic sense that he’s starting to harbour feelings for you.”
You want to laugh because Renjun? Feelings? For you? It’s laugh worthy. “No way. We just made up.”
“Yeah, but you both were all chill before today,” she rolls her eyes, “He’s probably starting to like you like you like him.”
“What are you even talking about?” You’re ready to escape this conversation. Mentally, you’re in a position that runners take when they’re about to begin a race, but in front of Yeji, you’re stiff as a rock, grounded and eyes wide as you react to what she just said.
“Nothing,” she shrugs, “You didn’t deny it though.” Yeji cackles and makes her own great escape, sprinting into her room before shutting the door.
When Renjun finally gets home, he’s greeted with a bear hug from his own roommate.
“I thought you died or something!” Donghyuck yells, “Why are you home so late?”
“I had dinner with Y/N and walked her home?” Renjun’s confused. He leans forward and notices tears in Donghyuck’s eyes. He doesn’t know whether he should laugh or feel bad because he’s never seen his best friend in such a state, “Are you actually crying? Look I’m sorry, I actually forgot to update you.”
“Yes! I’m crying,” Donghyuck glares at Renjun, “It’s not like I splashed my face with water or anything.” Donghyuck wipes his ‘tears’ away and ‘sniffles’, “If I knew you had a date, I wouldn’t have sobbed my eyes out waiting for you to get home.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Renjun hurriedly denies, “It was just a friendly dinner.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Donghyuck waves off, “Friendly dinner my ass.”
“It was!” Renjun’s ready to jump Donghyuck, “We worked for a long time today and we also formally apologized to each other. It was fitting.”
“You know what?”
“No, I don’t know what.”
Donghuck clicks his tongue against his teeth, “You like her.”
“What even makes you say that?” There’s a bazillion things running through Renjun’s head, but none of those things were coming to a single conclusion that made sense with this conversation with Donghyuck.
Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “The past few days, when you walk through that door from the gig or just being with Y/N, you have this sickening—but cute?—I don’t know… love-struck? Charmed?—Whatever you’d call it—look on your face and it’s painfully obvious that you’re starting to have feelings for her.”
Renjun gulps. He’s at a loss of words only because he’s never heard or seen Hyuck say something so serious in his life, “You’re lying.”
“No. I’m not. I can’t believe you haven’t realized it yourself when you’re usually more emotionally intelligent than me.”
Stunned, Renjun thinks it through.
Sure the word ‘love-struck’ doesn’t really describe what he’s feeling for you, only because he knows it hasn’t gone that far. He thinks back to the day it suddenly rained, when you both watched The Pursuit of Happyness and he let himself be vulnerable in front of you. Then to the day at the retirement home and seeing your interactions with the older adults. Those few times you were too immersed in painting to comprehend what was happening around you… Hell, he even thinks back to the time you had gotten him that damn Starbucks drink despite how horrible he treated you that day.
What did all these days have in common? Sure, all these days involved you and him, and progression in the relationship between the two of you. But the thing that persisted was how his chest warmed up in a way that was almost entirely unfamiliar to him. Shit, it has happened so many times that it has become familiar.
Renjun sighs and he looks at Donghyuck with a defeated look, “I think you’re right.”
“About?”
Renjun gets deja vu. He remembers the conversation he had long ago with Donghyuck about his attitude towards you. Never would he have thought that it would get this far.
“My feelings for Y/N.”
TEN.
It was the final stretch. The mural needed no more than final details and cleaning up before it was finished. And after this, you and Renjun would be finished the project.
You’re excited to see the mural in all its glory—no unfinished patches and pending layers. You can already taste the satisfaction, especially because both you and Renjun had worked your asses off finishing it.
But there was an elephant in the room.
It wasn’t a massive elephant, but it was there, sitting right in between you and Renjun and you didn’t know how to address it without him misinterpreting everything.
The elephant: What would become of the two of you after all of this has ended?
You look over at him with that lingering thought.
It was rather baffling because your relationship with him appeared to be nothing more than two co-workers—maybe a little bit more than that. No. That’s wrong. You guys were friends—at least that’s what you considered him. You could easily tell he considers you one of his, too, but you weren’t sure that you were at that point where you would speak to each other after all this is over.
You’d hate to see your relationship with him falter after everything.
You’re hoping Renjun’s feeling the same way, simply because he hasn’t said anything all shift. Just a mere ‘hi’ was all that slipped out his mouth towards you, and a soft ‘thank you’ when Joy had come out to congratulate you both for almost completing the project. Otherwise, he hasn’t done more than breathe and paint.
“You’re quiet,” you say playfully. You’re not sure if you were overstepping boundaries but you wouldn’t have said anything if you weren’t comfortable with Renjun.
The noise in Renjun’s head nearly blocks your voice out completely, but you’re lucky to have caught his attention. “Hm?”
You finish the details of your current part of the painting and move onto the next. It was one step closer to Renjun, “I said you’re quiet. Is something up?” It’s a good sign that Renjun wasn’t shooting any sort of remark your way, but you can tell he’s avoiding eye contact. You haven’t seen Renjun so out of it.
“No,” he replies, “No, I… I’m just thinking.” It was Renjun’s turn to finish an area. He takes a hesitant step closer to you to complete the details of a new area.
Dot. Dot. You use black paint to add details to a bear’s face. Its eyes. It looks a lot better than it did just moments ago. “Can I ask what about?”
Renjun pauses and thinks about his answer. You. He’s thinking about you. But he’s not sure if it would be odd for him to be honest and up-front. Renjun’s adding details to a toy car. Dot. Line. Dot. Dot. “Things. I’ll tell you when I get it sorted out.”
“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to,” you say. You move on to a toy train. Line. Dot. Two lines. Although you’re still truthful about what you just said, you’re still curious about what Renjun was thinking about. Things was such a broad term. It could be about anything—dogs, the colour periwinkle, even his best friend Donghyuck. But you guess you’ll let him marinate those thoughts.
“I want to tell you,” he says gently, “They’re just all jumbled and shit.” The best way to describe his thoughts was like a box filled with stray wires. All of them have been thrown in carelessly and now they’re knotted into one messy ball. He can’t even follow one wire if he tried.
Now you want it out of him ASAP because what the hell is going on in his head that’s causing him to act like this that would be making him want to tell you? Dogs? Periwinkle? Donghyuck? Although you’re panicking on the inside, you remain calm and give a hum in response. You’ll just have to wait until he’s ready.
Time flies and the shift is finished, leaving just a smidge of work left needing to be done for the final shift. Even with the mural not complete, it was already at the point where it did look finished. But with the sun setting, you’re not able to catch a good look at the work with its deserved lighting.
“I’ll walk you home,” Renjun says from behind you. You’re surprised he even offers to do so, especially since he seemed to be preoccupied with his thoughts. Despite this, you don’t refuse because you’re not sure if this would be the last time Renjun would be walking you home. Besides, you want to spend as much time as you can with him.
“How are those thoughts in your head?” you question. You both are halfway to your dorm and Renjun’s been mute the entire way. This was your way of pushing some sort of statement out of him because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.
Renjun huffs and hums to indicate that he’s thinking of a response, “Do you ever think a certain way about something but… I don’t know, you have some sort of conflict with yourself about those same thoughts and feelings?”
You pause and think about what Renjun’s trying to get at, but he’s being unclear, “In what context?”
Renjun turns to look at you, “It’s hard to put it into words but it’s like… new thoughts you feel like shouldn’t even be there but are there. It’s not like they’re forbidden or bad, but it’s just weird.” He sees your building growing close.
“Hmm…” A part of you knows exactly what he’s talking about, “I get what you mean.”
“How would you handle them?”
“I think that those feelings wouldn’t be there in the first place if you weren’t actually feeling them… or considering them at least.” If you could laugh out loud right now, you would. But you weren’t really risking looking like a maniac in front of Renjun. Your response to Renjun was something you’ve been telling yourself ever since Yeji had you questioning your own feelings for your friend a few nights ago. You only came to actually accept them now.
“But I don’t think you should overthink whatever’s going on up there,” you bring a finger up to his temple and tap it gently, “Chances are that it isn’t as big of a problem as you think.” Then you laugh, “You know, this is one of the things that gave me a bad impression of you at first. You think too much.” Renjun playfully rolls his eyes in response.
You walk ahead of Renjun to open the door. You don’t notice that he’s looking at you with brighter eyes because you’re right. Renjun let pessimism win and its got his mind preoccupied with what can’t happen when there was still chances of you reciprocating his feelings (or at least, what he believed were feelings).
“Wait,” Renjun stops you at the door. He’s standing at the bottom of the steps with you at the top and he realizes now that there’s no turning back from what he’s about to do, “I have my thoughts sorted out now.”
“Okay…” You let the door go and turn to him expectantly, “I’m listening.”
Renjun swallows the saliva in his mouth and he feels his heart pick up in pace. Yeah… here goes nothing. “You know when I first met you, I really didn’t think for a second that I would even like you as a friend. Almost everything between the two of us clashed, but now looking back at it all, we were being stupid and childish.
“That one day when you bought me a drink during our shift… I think that’s when I knew that there was a chance for us to not hate each other. I know it’s a small gesture, but it was the fact you did something nice despite the fact we weren’t getting along. It was sort of a wake up call for me.
“Then everything since then and up ‘til now… the conversations we’ve had, the walks back to the dorms, the visit at the retirement home… I feel like my feelings did a whole one-eighty.”
Renjun takes a step up towards you and exhales a quiet breath, “I…I think I like you. A lot.” He doesn’t know where to look. “And it angers me thinking about how the mural is going to be finished because then I won’t have an excuse to see you anymore.” His head drops for a quick second before he tries to gather his last few drops of confidence before finally looking up at you, waiting for a response of your own.
You’re taken aback by Renjun’s confession, simply because you genuinely didn’t see it coming. It’s hard for you to create the perfect sequence of words to say to him. Your mouth hangs open and all you can say is, “Renjun…”
Renjun’s heart drops immediately with the implication that whatever you’re going to say is bad and he stumbles backwards, almost falling back from the stair he was standing on. “I’ll… see you next shift.” And at that Renjun’s walking away.
°•. ✿ .•°
You’re sitting across the street from the daycare, staring at the almost-finished mural. You’re waiting for Renjun to come and judging by the time on your phone’s screen, he’s twelve minutes late, which was funny because he never was late. Not even once.
You can see Joy sitting at her desk through the window while there are kids running around in the play area behind her. You wonder if she’s wondering where the two of you are. It’s the last shift of this gig and you guys are late. Shouldn’t you both be early to get it over with?
Huffing you decide to make your way in. It wouldn’t hurt to get the supplies ready without Renjun. That way, when he arrives, you both can start.
“Afternoon, Y/N,” Joy looks up and around her computer screen, “Last shift!”
“I know!” you say excitedly, “I can’t believe it. Sorry for being a bit late.”
She shakes her head, “It’s no problem at all. You guys are almost finished, anyways.”
The door behind you squeaks open and you turn to find Renjun slipping through the doorway. His face shows no expression when he makes eye contact with you, but greeting Joy, he offers a small smile. They have a quick exchange, similar to what you just had with her, before you both are sent to grab the supplies.
It felt negatively nostalgic, the way he was avoiding eye contact with you as you bring everything out. It was awfully similar to when you both still didn’t get along and you didn’t like it.
You peek at him through the corner of your eye, heart skipping a beat. You can tell he’s forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He’s leaning in extra close to the wall, shoulder blade turned towards you in hopes to not to feel tempted to talk to you.
But it was odd. Only because he’s grown so used to your conversations.
The silence goes on for a while (it was just eighteen minutes, but it felt much longer), and everytime you think Renjun’s finally going to say something, he doesn’t. There’s some kind of heavy atmosphere engulfing the both of you and you could feel yourself practically suffocating because of it.
You decide to take matters into your own hands. Besides, you were the reason why he wasn’t talking in the first place. You were the reason why there’s this sort of tension between the two of you. “You know you left before I could even give you a proper response.”
Renjun’s breathing hitches at the sound of your voice, his movements halting simultaneously. “Judging by how you first answered, I didn’t think there was anything to hear.” He keeps doing whatever he was doing, but in his peripheral vision, he can see you turn to look at him.
“I listened to you,” you say, “So now it’s only fair you listen to me.”
Renjun hesitates for a moment, but he slowly drops his hand before turning to look at you.
“That night, I was going to say that I felt the same about you,” you say nervously. You’re straight to the point, only because you knew Renjun deserved to hear what you knew he wanted to hear three nights ago. “I just… couldn’t find the words to tell you that. Cause hearing me say that, it’s actually lame as hell compared to your confession.”
Your heart decides to use the inside of your chest as a drum and next thing you know you’re facing the wall. You try to busy yourself by finishing the last part of the mural’s details. Your cheeks heat up and you continue tentatively, “I can’t even exactly remember when my feelings for you started to become more than friendly-type feelings? I don’t even know if that makes sense… I just… started to notice that I couldn’t even handle these weird tickling feelings in my chest when I’m around you and I could not, for the life of me, stop them, but it’s not like I wanted to. Fuck, this is embarrassing.”
You’re starting to ramble. Cute, Renjun thinks, holding back a smile.
Putting the paintbrush down, he swiftly places himself next to you. As distracted as you were with your long, long train of thought, you don’t notice him standing next to you.
“But I remember, at the retirement home… one of the old ladies put the idea of you and me being a couple in my head and I didn’t hate the idea of it… I think that’s when I actually realized that I liked–” You muster up enough courage to look at Renjun and you’re met with him looking down at you with adoration—the same ones the night that he confessed, “—you.”
There’s an entire marching band of butterflies in your chest and you’re sure as hell that Renjun can hear them with how close he was. The look in his eyes makes you want to melt into a puddle right in front of him, but you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.
“You have some paint on your face,” he says softly. You gasp and foolishly try to spot the smudge of paint on yourself.
If only you knew that Renjun was shamelessly lying.
Without another word, Renjun reaches for your face, lifting it up with the inner edge of his thumb. Then he whispers, “I-I’ll get it for you. If that’s okay?”
You’re too stunned to even say anything. All you’re able to do is nod.
Renjun brings his lips down to yours and as if your heart conducted the band of butterflies in your body, they halt for a beat and a half before taking over once again. His lips press against yours softly at first, and once Renjun recognizes that everything happening within this very moment was perfect, he allows himself to fall into the kiss, bringing you two closer.
The paintbrush in your hand falls to the ground and your hands instinctively find their way up to Renjun’s shoulders, using them to pull you up closer to him, deepening the kiss.
It truly was perfect—if you ignored the fact that the two of you were probably being watched by anyone and everyone in the daycare—but the moment felt perfect.
When you both finally pull away, Renjun’s eyes scan your face before he breaks out into a smile, bringing you to mirror it. “Did you get it?”
He nods. “Yeah… I did.”
BONUS SCENE!
When Renjun asked you to come back to volunteer for another Throwback Thursday, you were no fool to refuse. You’ve actually been waiting for him to ask you to join him again right after the first one ended—Renjun was just a few weeks late.
“That concludes this week’s Throwback Thursday!” You say, looking over at the residents, “I really want to thank you all for participating and I hope you all enjoyed it.” You can see the residents smiling, clapping their hands.
As the residents start to file out of the room, you turn the mic off, and you spin around to look at Renjun who’s seated behind the piano, “You almost made me cry.” Even after hearing his voice for the first time, you’re still taken aback by how captivating Renjun’s singing was. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of it.
Renjun’s brows furrow, “What do you mean I almost made you cry!?” He stands up and approaches you in subtle panic, “Did I hurt you in some way or form or–“
“Jun,” you laugh, “Your singing almost made me cry.”
Renjun pauses and steps back, “Oh… then I guess that’s a good thing?” You nod and bring a finger up to poke his cheek which was pulled into a semi-pout. Seeing your finger from a mile away, he attempts to bite it gently but quickly retracts.
“Y/N! Sweetie!” You’re attention is pulled from Renjun to the same lady as last time. The one who made the ‘couple’ comment. She’s gotten a hair cut since you last visited, so you almost don’t recognize her, but she has the same smile. She’s waving for you to come to her and you do without hesitation.
“You don’t know how happy we all were when Renjun said you were coming in today!” She exclaims, “That’s why there were more people that came in today because they heard good stuff from last time.”
“Do you think I lived up to those ‘good things’,” you question, “I would have done better if I knew people had expectations.”
She nods. “I believe you did. Everyone had fun today.”
“Well, that’s good to hear then.”
You watch as her eyes flicker between you and Renjun, who was gathering the papers from the piano, “I’m sensing something’s going on between you two.” A smirk appears on her still-youthful face and you suddenly feel your cheeks heat up.
“You were right about last time, “ you say shyly, “We’re dating now.”
She lets out a sound of delight, hands coming together to make one loud clap sound. “Oh I told you so, sweetheart! This is what I love to see! Does this mean you’ll be coming more often?”
Renjun joins you two quietly and you nod, “I sure hope so.”
‣ an: hey you! you there who finished my fic! I love you sosososososo much for taking your time to actually read this entire thing (༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ) <— [that’s me ugly crying] but I really do hope you enjoyed it,, maybe let me know what your fav part was? If you didn’t enjoy it (even a lil smidge) I’m sorry about that (༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ) I’ll do better next time I swear (despite that though, I’m still thankful you read it <3)
#bless the fact I actually got this finished over break and now onto another fic#this one was a monster sized fic like what the hell it was only supposed to be like 15k words#did it even feel like 23.6k words tho#lowkey not tbh#Nct#Nct dream#Nct imagines#Nct dream imagines#Nct dream scenarios#Huang renjun#Renjun#Huang renjun imagines#Renjun imagines#Huang renjun scenarios#Renjun scenarios#Nct dream blurbs#Nct blurbs#Renjun blurbs#Huang renjun blurbs#Nct renjun#Nct fluff#Nct dream fluff#Renjun fluff#Huang renjun fluff#My writings#My nct writings#Kpop#Kpop imagines#Kpop scenarios#Kpop blurbs
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the bedroom hymns ● chapter x
⟶ Chapter summary | At last, you have finally found the way to continue to explore more places rather than only finding your way back to your old home. As you spread your wings to enjoy your newfound freedom, you unexpectedly find yourself crossing paths with another lost wanderer, whose presence seem to spark your empty soul and bring it back to life.
⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale retelling au⟶ Word count | 7,2k words⟶ Ratings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; magic/dark magic, mention of stalking, criminal act.
⟶ Story Masterlist | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢
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chapter x. wanderers-1
As someone who appears to be quite oblivious to your own safety, you are still quite hard to track down and follow.
This thought runs through Yoongi’s head as he threads his way through the market, finding trouble in following your movement as you expertly weaves through the people, delivery carts, and even the stalls.
As if you are used to slipping into the crowd of people while making sure to remain unnoticed by everyone around you.
If only that would have been the case with some other people as well. People like himself and the cloaked men who appear to be moving within your shadows because they all noticed your presence.
Yoongi curses under his breath as he nearly bumps against a burly guard standing in front a nearby drugstore, almost failing to notice the massive guy who was guarding the store while he has been keeping his eyes closely on you. He just cannot afford to look away, albeit briefly, despite risking another collision with an innocent bystander and drawing attention through his recklessness.
He has learned his mistakes after the previous encounters he had with you. Even when he wasn’t chasing you directly the way he is doing it now, he still cannot shake off the memories of you suddenly vanishing into thin air just when he was finally able to track you down. All he needed to do was to blink, or glance away briefly, anything that he would do to allow you to slip out of his sight, and you were suddenly gone.
But the risk of losing you is greater now that he senses danger coming in, except that you are not making things easier for him to protect you. One too many times, you would slip out of Yoongi’s line of sight and he would struggle to find you again. Making him question his ability—for the first time ever in his lifetime—to track down a target, a skill which he had taken pride of in cultivating for many years.s.
As the Crown Prince, Yoongi has spent years training his combatting skills and has had many experiences in hunting game together with the forest faeries. Through it all, he garnered all the skills that have been useful for him as he prepares himself for the throne, and he has been crafting these skills further as he joined the mercenary army while in the human realm.
Used against you, these skills of his seem to be worthless, and he wonders if you are secretly using some kind of a spell to help you escape each time he lays eyes on you.
A spell, that’s it, he comes to a realisation as he watches you once again expertly avoiding bumping into a passing merchant who isn’t showing any reaction for the near collision. Not even a glance as you slither away to continue your journey. A subtle movement comes from you as you pull the hood of your cloak to fix it into position, and your hand stops to rest on your neck for a brief moment to give Yoongi the answer he needed.
Of course, the necklace, he muses, recalling the night he visited your dream to see your ruby necklace glowing in response to the magic that he was using to see you.
The one-sided chase continues until you both finally reaches the open area which seems to be a part of the town’s plaza. Here, the stalls are no longer placed so close together. There is a fountain at the center, where people gather in small groups to admire the marble statue that is standing in the middle while they all cool down next to the water.
Around the plaza, there are different shops selling out fresh goods and handmade souvenirs. Trees grow here with small patches of green grass forming circles around them to give proper resting stops with shades for the people in need of a moment to rest between their trades.
Unlike the other part of the market town, the mass of the people here are less dense. It makes it easier for Yoongi to get a clear view of your movements and to finally catch up on you. Yet he still keeps a safe distance, as he worries that his presence may alarm you more than your other suspicious stalkers would have.
When you suddenly come to a halt in front of a stall selling handmade tapestries, your eyes looking at the goods that are placed on display with wide, amused eyes, Yoongi also stops and slides behind a parked cart to give you some space. He uses this moment to catch his breath while enjoying the view, as he finally gets to take a good look at you.
He takes in the way you are dressed—the plain blouse and trousers hidden under the worn-out cloak that you are wearing are certainly adequate to hide your identity, and those pair of muddy boots cannot have been something that you simply plucked out of your fancy wardrobe for your late afternoon stroll.
She certainly has done something like this before, he wonders to himself. Just as the thought crosses his mind, he is suddenly reminded of Yijeong’s story about how he first met you at the pub while you were disguising yourself as a passing traveller.
He wonders just how often you would do something like this, to slip away from your guards and blend with the common people while disguising as someone else. Thinking about this, Yoongi becomes restless. He clenches his hands as he imagines you roaming down the streets like this, yet instead of wandering in a busy market and while the afternoon sun is still glaring above his head, you are wandering in the slum area of Smotia—just like what Yijeong witnessed that one night and what his intel had reported back to him—and during the night.
No matter how powerful the spell that your necklace possesses, there is no guarantee that it could properly protect you should you ever come across anyone with the right mana to look past it. Someone like himself, for example, who has enough mana to overcome the concealing spell coming from the necklace.
Or the suspicious thugs that have been chasing your shadow, which—Yoongi only starts to realise now—must not have been regular humans if they manage to repel the spell and become aware of your presence among the other humans around.
While Yoongi is still deep in his thoughts, you suddenly start moving again. Yoongi nearly misses his chance to follow you when you immediately make a turn towards the row of stores right across the crowded plaza. Right from the corner of his eyes, Yoongi catches the sight of your pursuers entering the side of the plaza where he first came from. And he can tell just by one look at you to know that you have yet to notice them coming, encouraging him to move even faster.
Just like before, you expertly weave through the crowd, sometimes making it seem like you are using them as cover, concealing your tracks each time you make a sudden turn or switch direction in between the open stalls. You keep picking up your pace, and it seems to Yoongi that he is the only one who is blessed to be the quickest among your other pursuers to be able to keep up with your speed and agility. Soon enough, Yoongi starts losing sight of your other pursuers, much to his relief, as one by one they begin to slip away, as if deciding that pursuing you may no longer worth all the trouble.
But the relief that he feels is short-lived once he realises where you are heading.
Instead of walking towards a local store to continue your window shopping, you suddenly slip into a dark alleyway between two small shops that are currently closing down for their late afternoon break.
Yoongi rushes to follow you into the alleyway. His thoughts are immediately filled with concern as you disappear into the dark shadows and he suddenly loses sight of you. The moment he is welcomed by nothing more but a long, empty alley filled with discarded carts and dumpsters and no sign of your presence in sight, panic strikes him.
He takes a quick look around, making sure that nobody is following him as he begins walking deeper into the alleyway, noticing how it gets darker the further away he is from the market.
The only illumination that is helping him see through the dark path is the streaks of the afternoon sunlight penetrating through the lines of broken sunshades above his head, creating a magnificent light-work across the dark alleyway, though it is not enough to light up the entire place completely. He keeps his eyes open as he carefully advances, staying alert to the shadows around him that seem to have come alive in the dark.
A sudden movement coming from his right catches his attention. He turns and squints his eyes, trying to figure out what it is when all of a sudden, a figure steps into his path and blocks his way.
“Fates!” he curses loudly as he barely manages to catch himself before crashing into the dark figure.
He stumbles back with his hand gripping the handle of his short sword hanging against his hips. But the moment he finally gets a clear view of his intruder, everything in him stops. His hands freeze in place and his words simply die on his tongue. Even his breath is caught, causing him to unable to react or say a word until his lovely intruder speaks first,
“Hi!”
For a moment, Yoongi almost believes that he is imagining things. Yet the cheerful voice that greets him forces him to quickly recover from his shock. Something that is quite a struggle to do when his heartbeat is pacing wildly inside his chest.
The only thing he can breathe a sigh of relief from is the knowledge that his mask is still intact, helping to partially cover the expression on his face that he has no control over. Though he definitely knows that he looks nowhere near as calm as you are as you—whom he has been trailing—are now standing right before him, right within arm’s reach, with your wide eyes looking back at him completely amused.
For someone who has been moving with such speed through the marketplace and making Yoongi work hard to catch up, you are looking almost too calm for comfort. And you also seem pleased with yourself for having been able to catch him off guard, catching him red-handed while he is in the middle of pursuing you like an obsessed stalker.
Blasphemy, Yoongi curses at the Fates, ticked off at how easy it was for him to fall for their wicked games. And here he is now, trapped with nowhere else to go, with the risk of revealing himself too soon before he is finally ready to do so.
I guess there is no way escaping this now, Yoongi says to himself as he takes a deep breath and tries to find some semblance of composure as he comes face to face with the one person that he has been yearning to see. Even if it means that he must endure the fiery look you have in your eyes which is meant solely for him.
Crossing your arms over your chest, you wait until your mysterious shadow responds back to you.
You cannot hold back the amused smile that you know is now showing on your face. You simply cannot believe that you have been right all along—that you haven’t really been alone during your expeditions. It had doubt at first, thinking that it was purely due to your own insecurities that you kept feeling like you were being followed, watched, observed, even if you never saw any signs of someone following your shadows.
But as that ominous presence continued to haunt you like a ghost, no matter where the magic doors kept sending you off to, you knew that you had to investigate further.
It all started back during your visit to the center of your father’s most prestigious winemaking business, when you instantly felt his presence not long after you stepped out of the royal orchard house where the portal opened for you. The feeling of being watched continued to follow you as you strolled down the vineyard, and while you were never made to feel like you were in imminent danger, that feeling of someone shadowing your every move was quite hard for you to shake off upon your return to the home palace that you became wary ever since.
Once you discerned his presence, you continued to feel his presence around you ever since.
On the night you travelled back to the business district, when you stumbled into the quiet Oakes Village, and then again when you browsed through the transit town of Maplekeep. While he was not always there to shadow you in your travels, you have grown familiar to his lurking presence that you managed to recognise him among the crowd of people while you were trying to blend in with the crowd of people flooding the marketplace.
Had it been a coincidence?
You have been wondering about this for a while now, except that you have no idea how that would even be possible as you could barely predict where your journeys through the magic portals would take you to. So how would he be able to occasionally appear at the same place and at the same time as you have been, had it only been purely coincidental?
That may have been the reason why you finally found courage to confront him directly and find out the truth. Though it didn’t stop you from playing around a little to test and see if you are correct in your assumptions that he has been following you close behind, when you deliberately tried to make him lose your trail and yet he kept managing to come close enough to catch up on you.
It was through your jest to initiate a play of chase when the idea to ambush him in this dark alleyway abruptly came to you. You didn’t even allow yourself to think twice as slipped into hiding, without any thoughts to plan what to do next.
Suddenly he is here, standing right in front of you, and you did the first thing that you could think of to finally make contact with your shadow—by saying hi. Like an utter fool that would have put Nanny Abigail to shame.
You keep a smile on your face while wishing that you can read the expression on his face much better than this. Because aside from the shock you clearly see in his eyes, the rest of his face is partially covered by the silky thin mask that he is wearing as a disguise—much to your disappointment.
The fright in his eyes vanishes too quickly, however, as he soon sobers up. It is hard to discern his thoughts as you try to study the man under the restricted lights. And he doesn’t give you much to work on as he calmly tilts his head, showing curiosity in return, before surprising you with his own greeting that comes in his deep voice, “Um…hello?”
At the sound of his voice, a sense of familiarity overcomes you from the stranger’s presence. Making you feel as if you had met him before.
And not simply as your lurking shadow, but from a time before you first sensed him around you. Perhaps even long before you started using the magic doors to travel away from the home castle.
All of a sudden, you feel a deep longing blooming inside your chest. A feeling that you haven’t felt for quite some time.
But it is hard to know the reason why you are feeling this way or to recognise him with his face covered by his mask. The darkness around you isn’t helping much either, as the sunlight barely reaches down to this hidden spot where you had chosen to ambush him, not giving you enough illumination to be able to see him as clearly as you wish to.
“Are you perhaps lost, my kind Sir?” you calmly inquire him when he merely gives you silence other than his bemused 'hello’.
You decide to make the first move in the hopes that you can get him to talk to you. Perhaps you can coax him into moving a bit closer, or to simply slide over under the nearby streak of light so you can get a better look at the man.
Instead, his eyebrows rise in response your question. “Me?” He lets out a deep chuckle which somehow makes you feel a bit fuzzy on the inside with no particular reason.
“Not that I know of,” he answers with a slight jest in his voice. “I was actually wondering if you had lost your way. Seeing that you are hanging around in such a dark place when there is a whole market with magnificent goods to look at just outside of this alley.”
This time, you are the one left to feel surprised. He may not be making a move to step out of the shadows as he speaks, but getting a response out of him pleases you. It makes for a good start if you want to find some answers.
“Then perhaps you can tell me why you have been following me. What are you up to?”
His gaze flickers with wonder. “I’m not following you,” he says in return while acting as if you have insulted him with your accusations, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Right. Then I suppose that was all just my imagination,” you playfully scoff at him, and for a second, you almost think that you can see his lips twitching to a smile under his mask.
But you quickly brush it off since it is a bit too dark to confirm it. You convince yourself that in your need to see a reaction from him, you are made to see things that are not there.
Yet he seems open to play along as the man lifts both of his hands. “Alright, I must admit, that I may have been unintentionally following your movements,” he confesses, though you doubt that he feels any guilt for doing so. “I may have failed to realise that I was indeed following you until much later. But in my defense, I had probably done it out of instinct at first, and continued on because I was afraid that I would lose sight of you in the busy market.”
“Lose sight of me?” This time, you are the one raising your eyebrows. “So you saw me browsing through the market and decided to, what—follow me to see wherever I was going?” You raise your chin as if to challenge him. “Now, why would you do something like that to a complete stranger?”
The man takes a small step forward, just enough to allow a faint trace of light to fall on the lower part of his face—the part that is covered by the thin mask—to show you a hint of a smile forming from beneath.
“You—caught my eyes,” he says, sounding almost mesmerised. “Back in the marketplace, I saw you there and—”
He suddenly stops himself and immediately looks uneasy. It is quite possible that he can clearly see the look of distrust that is no doubt written all over your face and realises quickly the flaw in his unspoken words. After all, he is merely a stranger confessing to have been following you around for no apparent reason at all.
Any playfulness that he has been showing you slowly dwindles. Then he begins speaking in a gentle voice as if to reassure you, “I have no ill intention, I promise. I can explain why I was following your trail all the way here.”
“Is that so? Then do tell,” you challenge him, needing to hear his truth. Yet you keep your voice calm and light to try and get rid of the tension that is rising between you out of distrust. Because for some reason, you do believe him. Even if his actions seems shady, you have never once felt anything that caused you alarm. Still, you will have to listen to his reason to decide whether are not he is trustworthy. “Please kindly explain to me the real reason why you have been stalking me if not to put me in harm’s way.”
There is a twinkle sparkling in his eyes which resembles pride. As if your inquiry amuses him.
“Hmmm, let’s see—” he starts, acting like he is thinking deeply about how to answer you. “I remember strolling through the market to see if I could find some damsel to rescue. But then a little dove appeared before me, a figure that I had never before seen wandering in a place such as this town, where people from various places would frequently come and go and no binding law nor proper guards to protect her from imminent danger.”
He makes a dramatic sigh before he continues, “Before I could stop myself, I found myself following the little dove’s tracks, as I suddenly felt a strong desire to keep an eye on her to make sure that this little dove wouldn’t stray too far into the crowds and lose her way home.”
“A damsel?” You let out an incredulous laugh. “A little dove? Are you actually talking about me?”
The man tilts his head. There is nothing condescending about the way he is looking at you nor when he was referring you to be a lost damsel, though it does make you flustered to be under his unwavering attention. His intense gaze seems to lock you in place, and it doesn’t seem to be the kind that would be enough to scare you or give you the urge to run away.
In fact, he intrigues you. There is something about him that draws you in. Maybe it’s his eyes? Or is it his voice? Or perhaps—
He takes another step closer, and you get to see more of his figure. You get to notice that he is also wearing a cloak with its hood pulled up to cover his head, putting more shadows onto his face even when there is enough streak of light falling down on him.
“Is it not the most fitting name?” he gently asks. He peruses you with his gaze, and you can swear that his eyes linger for a brief moment at your hips, as if he can see through the cloak to find the golden dagger that you carry with you for protection.
When his eyes rise to meet yours, they light up further with an expression that almost looks like pride and joy. “You may look nothing alike any damsel in distress that one would normally find roaming the streets, but you were moving as freely as a dove would. That’s why I couldn’t resist following your shadows to keep you safe.”
Just as he says this, your cheeks suddenly grow warm and your heartbeat starts to pick up its pace. You have no idea why you are reacting this way to a complete stranger. Much less someone who you should be the most wary of. But his words of acknowledgement and the way he regards you with his deep eyes are affecting you more than they should.
“If I haven’t been the damsel that you thought I was, then what did you see in me that still called for your attention?”
The man strolls even closer until he is standing right before you. Close enough for you to feel his warmth and the flutter of his cloak brushing against yours. Being this close, you are once again struck by the familiar sensation you feel coming out of him in waves. He stands right below a streak of sunlight, finally emerging completely from the dark shadows to make him stand out in your eyes.
“What I saw was a valiant dove,” he says, referring to you with the new endearment which he has given you, making your heart flutter more intensely, “a dove that was curious and bold, flying with her wings fluttering through the breeze while looking so eager to experience the little adventures which she was so invested in. A dove that glowed under the sun as she was enjoying her small chance of freedom. But in her joy, she seemed to disregard her own safety, forgetting the fact that the world—no matter how beautiful it is—wouldn’t be as safe as she thought it would be.”
His words draw a smile to your face. “Let me guess,” you playfully point out, “you are a poet.”
The man laughs. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be, little dove. As long as you would allow me to fly alongside you during your visit to this town. That way I can be your second pair of eyes to keep a look out of your surroundings for you while you get to bask in your little freedom. I might also act as your second dagger to protect you should harm ever decides to come your way.”
His comment may be light and playful, yet his words strike at you so deeply that they pull at your heartstrings. The way he describes the way you are enjoying your little excursion makes you draw a deep inhale of breath and feel relieved at the same time.
As if he knows just how much this small chance of freedom truly means to you.
But how would he know?
The moment you start wondering about this, you almost laugh at yourself. You cannot believe just how gullible you suddenly sound, even to yourself, for believing that a stranger might know more about you than other people around you would.
He could be no different than a predator trying to corner his prey. Just like any predator, he can simply be an expert in recognising weaknesses to find someone to prey on. And in this case, that someone could be you.
But he still recognises your need for freedom. Regardless of how he was able to see it without ever getting too close, it still stirs warm, fuzzy feeling rising in your chest. The feeling that comes from being seen.
“How did you know that I am not from around here? Was it really that obvious?” you question him further while trying to push down the little spark of joy that you are starting to revel in.
His gaze softens. “I just know it,” he simply says with a wistful tone of voice, making you wonder just how much he truly knows about you.
Despite how open he has been in answering your questions, you can tell that he is still hiding something. He may have claimed to have no ill intention, but you have no doubt that he may still have other intentions than to simply protect a lone damsel in a strange land.
This raises your curiosity enough which leads you to question him directly, “Was it also the reason why you were following me back at the royal orchard house and kept your eyes on me while I was strolling down the vineyard? To keep me safe?”
He looks taken aback. Unlike before, when you constantly surprised him with snarky returns during your banters, his awe feels more potent. Because, obviously, he would have never expected that you have been noticing his presence on other accounts as well.
While he takes his time to respond, your lips curl to a coy smile as you add, “Yes, I know that you were also there. I may have grounds to believe that I sensed your presence on other events and places as well.”
Seeing how much you seem to enjoy catching him off guard, the man lets out a baffled laugh. “So you already caught me.”
“You’re not even going to deny it?” you ask him with your eyebrows raised.
Your question draws a smile to his face that grows wide enough the mask can barely hide if from you.
“I could try and I know I won’t succeed,” he says while shaking his head. “You already saw right through me before I even tried to make up a lie to cover up my poor lack of judgement. I might be a terrible liar or I just cannot seem to lie to you. Whatever the case may be, I just know for sure that it would be best not to even try and risk making a fool out of myself by giving you an outright denial.”
For some reason, he only intrigues you even more with this confession of his. “A poet who isn’t good at lying. How interesting.”
He shrugs. “I already told you that I can be whatever you want me to be. I could be nothing more but a traveller who is visiting the town and looking for a place to stay before going to the next destination. Not entirely different than what I’m assuming to be your intention as well. But I must listen to my heart as it decides to do one last good deed before I depart from this town.”
While he appeals to you with his reasons under the golden streaks of the afternoon sunlight, you take this chance to have a proper look at him.
The cloak that he is wearing may not have any emblem or embroideries added to its fabric, yet you can easily tell that it is not just a regular cloak that any common people would be wearing. The leather belts he wears over his attire and the golden chains hanging at the front which hold the cloak and his armour together are also showing more truth about him than what he is letting you to believe.
And unlike you, who keeps your dagger hidden under your cloak, he has his short sword completely exposed, hanging right at the hip. You had even caught him reaching for it right before you revealed yourself to him, so you know for sure that he is capable enough to use it to protect himself and fight against any threat coming at him.
Even without the emblem to identify himself, his demeanour, the smooth way that he speaks and his gentle gesture, the humming energy that you can somehow sense coming from him, and the way he is meticulously dressed his part are all forcing you to recall a certain mercenary whom you met quite a while ago. Allowing you to have a good guess of who he might be.
“You and I both know that you are more than just a regular traveller,” you simply state once you are beginning to have a good grasp of his true identity. Looking straight into his eyes, you lay out everything about him that you have surmised through your keen observation. “You are a part of the notorious mercenary army that has been exploring and spreading through the continent. I might even surmise what the people around the continent have been calling you, as I’ve heard the brotherhood’s name being whispered among both the common folks and the nobles.”
The name of the mercenary group echoes through your thoughts as your eyes linger briefly at his shiny sword. Ever since the day you spoke with your father’s advisors about the possibility that they were behind the rise of rebellion forming in the outer districts of Nythelean’s territory, it seems that their name has been engraved in your memory for good.
The Brotherhood of Jorn.
The brotherhood of men from all over the continent that have banded together under the same purpose, the same pretext, which is to build an army of capable men to protect their kin and the common folks that are not under the jurisdiction law of the reigning monarch. And the mercenary group has since multiplied in numbers, with so many young men who have not been eligible to become the royal guards and knights joining the brotherhood to earn their keep.
“You may not be wearing their emblem or the armour that those who are part of the mercenary group would often wear when they are in public,” you continue while pointing at the armour on his chest which is only partly hidden under his cloak and then at his sword, “and your disguise may have fooled others, allowing them to think that you a mere traveller passing through on your way to the Capital. But I can tell that you are one of them. And I wouldn’t be surprised if that is true. I know that your men work for the Barons and merchants who travel through this area and the districts surrounding the Land of Smotia.”
The pride look presented through his eyes becomes clearer. “Seems to me that I had underestimated you,” he says with a low chuckle. “First, you showed me that you have a remarkable sense of awareness when you were weaving your way through the market while trying to shake me off of your trail. And secondly, you are quite knowledgeable about weapons and the politics happening in the continent.”
His acknowledgement brings a smile to your face. “So I was once again correct with my assumptions?
Once again, he shakes his head. “There was never a point in denying it, is there?” With a soft chuckle, he then straightens himself to his full height. “Perhaps admitting the truth should be enough to show you that I truly have no ill intention upon approaching you.”
Hearing this, you can only exhale a relieved breath. The truth is, even if you never once felt intimidated by his presence, everything that you said to him just now has been a gamble. You had no idea what kind of threat he may bring upon you and yet, at the risk of your own safety, you still confronted him to finally have some answers.
You may not have all of the right answers to ease your mind just yet, but knowing that he isn’t posing a threat to you is enough for now. Because that means that you will be able to continue with your expeditions while learning about your father’s magic.
And you wouldn’t have to worry about losing your newfound freedom through your secret escape just to avoid danger.
“I suppose I can take your word,” you simply say to him, “for now.”
He nods, understanding your need to be cautious. “Then the only thing that I can do is to make sure I won’t disappoint you by showing you otherwise once you’ve placed your faith in me. And now that the truth is finally out in the open—” he starts to say just as he glances sideways, as if something has caught his attention from the other side of the dark alleyway, “this might be a good time to let you know that I was not the only one in this place who had set their eyes on you.”
You quickly glance around, despite not sensing any other presence but your own from the other parts of the alley. It is also quite hard to see through the shadows now that the golden sunlight is beginning to descend from the sky above, as the day is shifting towards the coming evening.
“What do you mean?”
“This is actually another reason why I had to follow your tracks, even when I told myself that I shouldn’t come any closer. Have you not noticed any other movement following your shadows other than mine?” he questions you with his voice lowered and his hands touching lightly on your upper arms as if to stop you from moving away from his cover, as he is using his body to hide you from sight. “Look over my shoulders, discreetly, and tell me what you see.”
With your brows furrowed, you lean forward to sneak a glance from over his shoulder. A task that is so simple, yet so hard to do, when the feeling of his chest brushing closely to yours and the woody scent wafting from his body are all too distracting to help you to focus.
“Do you see now what I meant when I talked about your disregard for your own safety?” he whispers to you. With the lack of distance between you, his deep voice seems to be brushing at your skin. Even as the mask that he has been wearing remains to cover his face.
You blink and try once again to focus on what you are supposed to be doing. The moment you open your eyes again, that is when you finally see them.
Right at the entrance of the alleyway where you came in from, suspicious men are hovering like wild dogs. Two of those men are tall and burly, while the rest are lean, yet they all look equally as rough as the infamous street thugs that you have heard being talked about during your previous travels, with scars on their skin and muscles bulging from beneath their clothes.
While they are all wearing common people’s clothing, every single one of them are packed with weapons hanging on their chests, hips, and back, even some on their legs, which would be enough to intimidate others—various-sized daggers, knives, and small swords that would be easy for them to swing while being in the crowd.
“Who are they?” you whisper to him as you slink back down to take cover, making use of his broader body to shield you from their sight. Even though none of those men seem to be paying attention to the dark space within the alleyway.
Not yet, anyway. As they are still busy looking around towards the market and the streets beyond the alley, as if they are searching for a specific person that may slip in between the people who are moving from one shop to another.
“Wait—are they looking for me?” you ask him with a sharp whisper. Just thinking about being a target to this thugs seems baffling. You mentally chastise yourself for being so complacent—after being able to have smooth travels where no threats were present, or having anyone noticing your presence at all before—and for celebrating too soon when you found out that the man who is now shielding you in the shadows had been a threat. When the truth is that you have yet to escape the possible danger that was truly threatening to get in your way.
“My best guess would be that they are the local thugs that have been roaming around the market town. They have been causing disturbances around here, causing troubles with travelling merchants and visitors that had come here to shop. They would steal money, pick their pockets, and oftentimes force small shops to pay up ‘security money’ to keep them from messing up their stores. It is one of the main reasons why more and more merchants and shop-owners hire mercenaries like myself and my brothers to protect their business—and themselves—from thugs like them.”
He looks straight into your eyes after revealing this to you. “I’m sure they could easily tell that you were a newcomer, a fresh face that they could prey on.”
You merely scoff at this. “Well, if that truly was what they thought about me, they would be wrong. No one is making a prey out of me.”
His eyes sparkle with awe and pride. “I have no doubt about it at all,” he says, “but I would still advise you to stay close to me to avoid getting into any trouble.”
He stops to gauge your reaction to his offer. When he notices how wary you are still, he bends down to meet your gaze and reassure you, “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Your lips twitch to a smile. “How am I supposed to trust you when I don’t even know your name?” you question him. “And don’t get me started with that mask. I feel like out of everyone around here, there is more chance of you being a thief or a thug than those men would be.”
“You’re right. How silly of me,” he says with a soft chuckle. Keeping his eyes on you, he brings his hand up and gently plucks his mask off, revealing his face to you.
The moment you see him, something seems to come alive inside your chest. You have no idea what it is or why your body is reacting this way. Even that same sense of familiarity, filled with a peculiar feeling of yearning, returns to you tenfold, even when you cannot remember if you have ever met him before.
But you find it hard to figure things out when you are too awe-struck by his face, his smile, and the warm gaze he is giving you now.
“My name is Min Yoongi,” he says, introducing himself as he takes your hand and kisses the back of it. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss—”
“Call me _____,” you carefully introduce yourself in return, surprising yourself with how easy it feels. To feel so much weight being lifted from your shoulders when you simply give him your name.
Just a name.
Without any title attached to it. Without any attachment to your father, the crown, and the royal palace clinging onto you. As if you have been reborn into a completely different person while still being you.
And you absolutely love how liberating it feels.
“________,” Yoongi repeats with a wistful tone of voice, as if he is entranced by your name. The sound he makes brings warmth to your face, which gets more intense when his gaze seems to grow sharper when he is saying your name.
There is also a peculiar twinkle in his eyes that draws you in once he hears introducing yourself, as if your name itself has become a spell that puts him in a trance. Yet the look disappears too quickly before you get to see it more clearly.
“Do you trust me, _____?” he asks you while he is still holding your hand in his.
“Yes,” you find yourself answering him in a similarly wistful tone of voice. Not because you are suddenly put under his spell—though you have no doubt that he may be capable of doing so—but because you do trust him.
Not only because of how captivated you are by him, but also because for some odd, questionable reason, his presence feels like home.
And it puts you at ease to simply take his hand and allow him to take you away. For you suddenly have faith on him to believe that he will be able to keep you safe. “Yes, I trust you,” you muse with a smile. “Now take me away from here.”
— © 2023 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.
#yoongi scenarios#k-vanity#btscreaturescoven#bangtanwhq#bangtansorciere#yoongi fanfic#yoongi scenario#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#suga scenario#suga smut#suga angst#suga fluff#yoongi x reader#suga x reader#bts fanfic#bts scenario#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#bts x reader
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love bites | jjk (m)
⤑ pairing: vampire!jungkook x vampire!reader
⤑ genre(s)/au(s): smut, horror, romance paragraphs in regards to makers/creators, porn-without-plot, established relationship, modern vampires
⤑ w/c: 15.5k+
⤑ trigger warnings: language, blood and a lot of it, feeding from humans and feeding from each other, mentions of a bite mark (essentially a love bite on jungkook's shoulder but in a romantic way.. you’ll see what i mean), no plot whatsoever so if you’re looking for plot, this ain’t it.
⤑ smut warnings: brief f/m/f/m foursome-ish elements :)) , f/m/f heavy petting, neck kisses (f rec, m rec, f rec), feeding together being a sexual stimulant, dirty talk, teasing, submissive 4 cawk oc, nicknames (bloodwhore, kitten, baby, good girl), kissing, biting, rough sex, unprotected sex, big cawk jaykay, praise kink, size kink, rough oral sex (m rec), face fucking, oral (f rec), fingering, choking & gagging, ball sucking, spit play, spit kink, cum swallowing, cock worshipping, ocs fangs dragging against his cock n jungkook has thot thoughts about oc biting his dick, overstimulation (m rec, f rec), multiple orgasms (m & f) || smut warnings including blood: vampire food play - jaykay slicks his cock in a puddle of blood from the woman they just fed on and covers it on his cewk, titty fucking with blood used as lube, blow jobs involving blood, blood sharing (jaykay n oc bite n feed from each other), jaykay bites n feeds from ocs boobs, spitting blood from his mouth into ocs too, they fck on a bed surrounded by the ppl they killed (not explicitly mentioned)
⤑ summary: its feeding time for you both but this time rather than venture out alone to eat, you change it up and feed together
⤑ note: thank you to @jimilter & @sunshinejunghoseokie for betaing the teaser ; @caelesjjk & @yeoldontknow & @jessikahathaway for fic betaing ; & lastly @kth1 for the beautiful banner<33
⤑ note2: as always, comments and feedback are always appreciated, even lil tags in reblogs! everything is appreciated! dont be silent n support your content creators
• masterlist •
The sun hangs low in the evening sky behind the towering buildings of the city, the perfect time to open your curtains and catch the last remaining streaks of reds, oranges and pink beneath the clouds. It’s breathtaking, something you don’t get to witness too often. The faint peak of the crescent moon in the sky catching your eye.
The night has always been your favourite part of any life you have lived. The darkness is your hometown, with the only traffic being the vast collision of stars in the night sky.
Your thoughts are interrupted as a pair of hands slide around your hips, dipping past the waistband of your shorts to caress the skin underneath. You lean back into the touch and let the dexterous thumbs continue to rub back and forth comfortingly as his chin rests against your shoulder.
“Kook, baby,” you whisper with a smile, pulling your lower lip in between your teeth as you feel him release a small hum against your neck. He places tiny pecks along the contour of your shoulder, skillfully making his way to your neck.
“You’re concentrating quite hard on the night sky kitten, what you thinkin’?” He asks, finally done showering you in kisses.
As soon as the question is asked, your stomach rumbles in response to Jungkook — the sound answering the question for you.
It’s almost been a full thirty days now since you had last fed and you’re due for your next one any day now. The issue is, tonight isn’t feeding night. You still have to wait another three days before you go out and satisfy your hunger. In the meantime, you’ve been snacking on blood bags that your best friend has been bringing you from the hospital they work at. It just isn’t the same as tasting the real thing straight from the vessel.
Your stomach rumbles once more as your thoughts dive straight into finding a donor who you can just take off the street to satiate your cravings.
“You’re hungry.” Jungkook states as a matter of fact. You close your eyes tight as to not think too much about it, your palms clenching and nails digging into the skin in frustration. “When are you due to eat?”
You sigh. “Three days. I don’t know if I can wait that long, my hunger pains are the strongest they’ve been.”
You never used to be this way. When you were created, you opted to hunt on animals or get a supply from a food bank where you could quench your thirst in increments, where it was monitored.
That changed when your maker found out you had run off, eventually hunting you down and bringing you back to his coven where you were then forced to feed from a direct blood line. A torn wrist placed in front of you leaking the only drug strong enough to break you out of your diet.
And God, it was a pleasure you never knew you had been missing out on, and from then you were hooked.
Your thirst intensified from that moment and it was all you could think about. It worsened when you found if you mix the need for human blood with the lust of sex, that it tasted divine. Exquisite, even. It is more intense for everyone involved, having sex while feeding. The endorphins that releases in a vampires body as they fuck and feed is a high that could never be reached by anything else they try.
Poor Jungkook didn’t have any idea what was happening at the time. At the age of twenty-five, out at a club to celebrate his birthday and there you were in the corner of the establishment out on the hunt for something, someone, to tame your cravings.
You had hooked up that night when things began between you both. It started light. He let you sink your teeth into his neck and feed just enough to keep you sated for the next week or so. But the sexual tension between you both was like a gravitational pull for the both of you until eventually you were seeing him exclusively every week where you would hook up and drink from his body. His jugular vein, his femoral artery, his wrist — any part of him he would let you seek.
Then one night, your thirst had become unbearable..uncontrollable — nothing was quenching you like you needed it too. In haste, you had completely forgotten to cancel your night with Jungkook when his scent filled your senses and appeared at your apartment. The hot blooded male making his way through the building to your door, sinking your teeth into his neck and satisfying your gluttony was all you could focus on. Your want for him was consuming every part of you. The innocent twenty-five year old had no idea what was to come from that evening.
Dragging him into your apartment that night, it started like any other with searing kisses and rough touches. With your need for food overcoming the need for sex, you lost all self control and drank too much from him, leaving you feeling perfectly ravished as you finally filled your stomach with a full meal. But with that, you had also left Jungkook to bleed out on your bed.
Once you had come to your senses, you found the sweet man in a state near death and panic overtook you. You didn’t want to lose him. He was too good to die and so as you turned back on your emotions, afraid of the loss he would fill your life with, you turned Jungkook at that moment. It was a sight you’ll never forget. For better or for worse you’ll never know.
Bite marks and bloodstains blossomed all over his skin across his neck, arms and shoulders. Newer and deeper marks from previous feeds bloomed in faint colours of purples and reds mixed with the older, faded white scars. The tears and rips in his flesh caused by your teeth, leaving not an inch of skin untouched are all acting as visible proof of your intense nights together . On the contrary, with his eyes shut and lips parted ever so slightly as he began to take his last dying breath, he’s never looked more at peace, more eternal, more ethereal.
“Don’t think about us like that. I’m glad you found me. I’m glad you made me yours,” he kisses the back of your head. You forget that he can read your mind.
You turn in his arms and wrap your own around his tiny waist, giving his chest a kiss of your own. “I know, you keep telling me.”
As if prompted by your words, you feel Jungkook’s own stomach growl in hunger, and you look up at him, a brow raised quizzingly only to just receive a laugh from Jungkook.
“How long?” You ask.
Jungkook sucks air in through his teeth before giving you an answer. “About seven days now. I’m due to feed tonight.” You stiffen at his words. “I won’t go if the smell will send you into a frenzy,” he laughs halfheartedly.
You sigh again, “I can’t keep you from feeding, you know that baby.” It’s a thought that runs through your mind, you can’t deny that. But your boyfriend needs to eat just as much as you do.
“What if you come with me tonight then, kitten? We’ve always spoken about feeding together so why don’t we try it tonight?” Jungkook suggests.
And he isn’t incorrect. The timeline between your feeds and Jungkook aren’t too far apart and so it’s an idea that has been brought up between the both of you after you have both come home from your feeding nights. And it’s easier to bring your feeding forward by a few days than it is for Jungkook to halt his to match yours — it would just make him more dangerous.
“Are you sure?”
Jungkook swallows and lowers his head to your own, turning his head and letting his nose brush against your own before placing a tender kiss on your lips. “I’ve never been more sure.”
And so here you both are, standing at the bar of the same nightclub that you had met Jungkook in all those moons ago. The classy decor of the club is lit up in shades of flashing yellows, purples and blue lights that nightclubs usually have from the strobe lights installed on the ceiling. There are velvet and silks of deep reds draped over each wall and the bar you’re standing up is bathed in white spotlights, showing off the club's extensive liquor collection.
Off the bat, it looks like your usual club but you both know that deep down, it’s something so much more primal than that; the bustling environment does nothing for your hunger. The energy inside is infectious. You can feel pulses racing, and the smell of sweat and sexual energy has you rubbing your thighs and stomach growling and by the sounds of Jungkook next to you, he isn’t fairing much better either.
“Drink?” Jungkook asks and you nod your head for him to order you your usual. You stand next to him at the bar and lean yourself back, the material of your silky dress riding further up your thighs as you do. In your heels, you almost level Jungkook in height — who looks heavenly in his outfit for the evening.
His hair has grown significantly over the last few weeks. He’s styled it in a way that strands of thick onyx hair is gelled back off his face from the sides but he’s left taken the shorter pieces from the front and flat ironed them diagonally across his face, covering his eyes which gives him an almost sinister look. However, he’s cleverly left his eyebrow piercing to peek through and the metal of his lip ring that is sinfully tucked into the corner of his mouth as he chews on it in thought as he orders your drink.
The shirt on his body is fitted. Tight, like a second skin to his incredible physique and tucked right into the band of his jeans and sealed together with a leather belt with a heavy gold moon at the centre. His shoulders stand out, broad and beautiful and his chest, which is emerging under the array of buttons undone down to his navel, isn’t any different.
The all black jeans on his legs shows off his toned thighs and just how utterly irresistible he is. He finishes his look with an abundance of white gold rings with expensive gemstones embedded, chains of all lengths and sizes wrapped around his neck and hoops hanging from both lobes.
He looks good enough to eat, you think to yourself.
He’s gorgeous. You know it and he knows it, using his sex appeal to assist in his own feedings. And it seems that the both males and females around the two of you know it too as they can’t help but let their eyes linger on him longer than usual.
Your eyes never stop scanning around the club as you search for someone exciting for you to take home and share with Jungkook. A clear fizzy drink is placed in your hands from your boyfriend who seems to have something a lot stronger and darker in his own glass. You sip the alcohol tentatively, a sweet fizz tingles on your tongue.
He hums along to the overbearing thrumming drum and bass song which is booming through the overhead speakers around the room before his raspy voice breaks into lyrics. Typical. The strength of his drink causes his eyes to scrunch together as you stand quietly together, eyes searching through the mass of the crowd.
Lacing your fingers together, you walk towards the back of the nightclub, further into the shadows so you can both have eyes on your prey for the evening. His hand slides around the small of your back and rests on your waistline, giving your side a squeeze.
“What do you fancy to eat tonight, kitten?” Jungkook purrs in your ear, gently taking your earlobe in between his teeth and nibbling over it, his canines pushing down gently causing you to moan and bite your lip.
“I’m not being picky. I just need to eat.” You sip on the alcohol and press yourself against Jungkook, your ass coming into contact with his crotch as you begin to sway to the music and you feel his fingers tighten in the material of your dress. You keep sweeping your eyes across the dancefloor to all the different options you could have for the night, observing the bodies that are squeezed together in close proximity knock against one another, grinding and gyrating with wild abandonment.
Through the crowd, something, someone, catches your eye causing your movements against Jungkook to draw to a sudden halt. You tilt your head to the side and your eyes come into contact with a male.
He looks young, around your own age as he keeps his gaze on yours, appearing to be staring straight through. You give him a wink from across the hall, just to make sure you really do have his attention and as confirmation you receive a smirk in return, two of his fingers motioning you over in a come hither way.
Turning towards Jungkook, you stare him in the eyes and raise your eyebrow at him, letting him know that you’ve found someone. Jungkook raises his eyes and immediately sees the man you’ve clocked and licks his lips, his appetite growing exponentially.
Jungkook takes your hand in his again and begins to make his way over to the stranger, making sure to keep you close as you fight through the bodies on the dancefloor. It’s a dance you’re both familiar with, trying not to let the scent of others in your way teeter you from what you both desire, otherwise things could get messy and that isn’t something you need right here in front of a large crowd.
Pressed up against the wall, you envelope the stranger by the back of the neck and tug him down to you, inhaling his scent as he lowers. His skin is as soft as it looked from the other side of the club and you can’t help but run your tongue up his neck, the salty perspiration is sweet to taste and you moan.
Giggling, you look back towards Jungkook who is eying you tentatively and you shrug. “He’ll do.” Your words are rewarded by a sickly sweet smile from Jungkook who can feel his jeans strain knowing you’ll both feed well tonight.
“What’s your name sweetheart?” You ask the pretty boy.
“Whatever you want it to be,” he responds with a slight slur, breath smelling of whiskey. Good enough for you.
From the side, pale hands wrap their way across your boyfriend and your eyes screw together at the new edition to the three of you. It is as if the gentleman could see you trying to piece together who this female is. “Mind if my girlfriend joins us?” He mumbles.
Her hands run up and down Jungkook’s arm as you stare directly into his eyes. You can see them visibly darken from their usual golden colour to a dark garnet shade. Both of them have that healthy, glistening flesh and your thighs twitch, hearing the pulse underneath, wanting nothing more than to take them home and sink your teeth in.
“Gladly,” you say. You claw your hand underneath his collar and draw him closer to you, attaching your lips with his own right in front of both you and his girlfriend. His lips are chapped and not the most pleasant feeling, especially in comparison to your own boyfriend but it’ll do. You’re only doing this with one end goal in sight.
Reaching behind you, you grab the guy by the top of his shirt and push him onto the bed, motioning for him to lean back against the headboard. Obediently, he does as he is told and you lower yourself on top of him, your dress pulling itself up your legs and past your thighs to expose your covered pussy. Your hips meet his and you can feel his semi-hard length through his trousers. His hands rest at the bottom of your back, one sliding further down to grab you by the ass , giving it a good squeeze and you yelp at the contact.
Jungkook hears and turns around, watching you getting yourself comfortable for the evening, knowing how you can get when you’re as ravenous as you are tonight, ready to eat. He looks back towards the man’s girlfriend and leaves a hand out for her to take. She does and Jungkook guides her to the bed, letting her get settled before he kisses her on the cheek and lets both his legs rest on either side of her waist.
Kissing this guy is nothing like kissing Jungkook, and a part of you misses his lips on yours as you take your time to get into the lip lock with this stranger. He deepens the kiss as his tongue tangles with yours a little too quickly. He brings a hand from your back and places it on your tit, kneading the mound, feeling your nipple harden underneath your dress. Your body reacts to his touch as your legs squeeze his waist and you grind down on him.
Before the man in your arms could protest, you grind yourself into his hard dick once more as he throws his neck back in pleasure. The opportunity is now and so you dip your mouth to his neck and sink your fangs into his jugular. Your hips rock back and forth in satisfaction, timing the rhythm of your hips with the draining of blood from his neck. He didn’t struggle below you, only small whimpers from the pain as his fingers claw at your thighs, marking them darker but missing the way they heal almost instantly.
At the other side of the bed, Jungkook re-emerges from between the woman's legs and smiles at you wickedly. The blood is spraying from your victims neck and coats your skin, seeps into your hair and clothing too. It’s a beautifully wretched sight watching as the blood taints your skin, dribbling down your chin as you selfishly devour more than you can take and finally pooling at the base of your neck in your collarbones.
“Fuck me, _____, seeing you like this has got me so hard,” Jungkook announces. He manoeuvres himself briefly, pressing himself a little more flat against the linens to allow his hips to grind into the mattress for some satisfaction. Only then is he aware of the feeling of slick coating his chin from his ministrations on the female below him before dipping back down.
You continue to suck at his neck, feeling him weakening and sinking further into the pillows behind him — a tell tale sign of him becoming lifeless in your arms. The sounds of your sucking and swallowing reverberate around the bedroom. And that’s when you feel it. The rush, the adrenaline, the feeling of being full after a drought. Life fills you once again and you can’t help but moan in satisfaction. Your body roars back to life as you find a new place to sink your teeth into just underneath his ear. The sound of flesh tearing is music to your ears as you continue to quench your thirst.
A string of over exaggerated airy moans tears you away from the young man below you and you watch as Jungkook’s head dips up and down as he continues to pleasure your other companion. If it wasn’t for the fact that Jungkook needed to eat, you would have tossed her aside a while ago — her voice is one that vibrates against your skull like a fucking migraine.
Is she even vaguely aware of the fact her boyfriend is lying lifeless in your arms? You laugh at the thought. Probably not — Jungkook seems to be sucking the soul out of her pussy.
However, your pussy throbs as you watch him, and you use the man's thigh to grind yourself on top of. The sight of Jungkook eating out another woman in front of you is nothing short of pornographic and you start to wonder why this isn’t something you two have done before.
“S-shit, you’re so good with your mouth,” she whispers, eyes snapped shut, not looking directly at you. “You’re so lucky-fuck.”
Your smile is sinister as a tiny giggle leaves your lips. You know just how good he is with his tongue and fuck, you can’t wait until it’s your turn.
Whining, Jungkook’s head appears and his smile eventually matches yours. Feeling his hand at the back of your neck, you lick your lips, tasting the remnants of blood before meeting him in the middle for a kiss. It’s possessive and consuming. Opening your lips, you slip your tongue into your boyfriends, pushing some of the blood from the man you just fed on into his mouth, letting him have his own taste before he has the chance to feed on the blonde underneath him.
Her eyes flutter open and observe the both of you in a heated make out session. The kiss is rough and messy, a fight of tongue and teeth, of dominance between the pair of you. Eventually, Jungkook takes control of the kiss and holds your head in place as his tongue peeps out and laps up at the blood dripping down the corners of your mouth. The transfer of blood between you both elicits a moan from Jungkook, making him pull away from you to lick at the side of his own lips.
The liquid coats his soft skin like a drizzle over the most mouth watering dessert, a small drop threatening to drip down off his jaw before you thumb at it and place it at the lips of the woman.
Jungkook is reminded of his hunger as his stomach groans loudly, almost enough to hurt. His attention is turned back to her as fear fills her eyes as she becomes more aware of what’s going on around her. Her nails claw at the bed sheets only for her body to run cold at the wet feel of it. Raising her hand, she finds herself covered in blood which is still running heavily into the sheets from her boyfriend limp beside her.
The earth shattering sound of her exaggerated scream is all you can hear and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
“Your turn.”
Within a blink of an eye, Jungkook grabs her by the wrist and stands at the edge of your shared bed, holding her by the side of her neck before he sinks his teeth into her, crimson liquid rushing to the surface to aid the bloodlust coursing through his body. Not once do Jungkook's eyes leave you as you continue to play with the dark hair of the lifeless male in your arms.
“You shouldn’t let her cry, she's annoying me,” you roll your eyes at her blood curdling scream, accentuating your annoyance towards the female.
“Why don’t you come over here and do something about it then?” Jungkook challenges you back with a playful smirk dawning his lips.
You're quick to push the male from your body, watching as his figure drops to the floor in a heap. “Okay, he’s definitely dead,” you laugh out loud with sinister glee. You crawl your way off of the bed over to Jungkook and stand in front of the woman. She is certainly beautiful with her soft fair hair and large innocent looking eyes. Eyes which now are flooded with fear and pleasure.
What a stupid girl, getting off on being drained.
Grabbing her by the throat, you squeeze the sides of her neck just enough to keep her quiet but not enough to fully cut off the air to her lungs. Tipping her head up, she looks at you as Jungkook continues to suckle on her blood. He’s made quite the mess of his meal though as blood continues to run down her neck.
The scent of her sweet perfume is picked up as you lower your head to her neck and sniff at the broken flesh where Jungkook's teeth and tongue are lapping away at her with succession. It’s surprising that she’s lasted this long with the way that he’s been going at her. “Such a pretty little thing you were.”
Jungkook finally removes himself from her just to mutter, “You should fucking taste her, she’ll quench your thirst so well.” To prove his point, he drags his index finger through the blood staining the skin of her neck and lifts it up to your lips for you to lick, making sure to suck his finger more salaciously than needed.
“Well you do smell delicious, I will give you that,” you whisper, your lids fluttering shut in delight. Your hand squeezes harder on her neck and the other finds her right breast. You pinch at the flesh over her clothing and watch as pleasure fills her. “You’ve got one hell of a fight in you, I can tell,” you hum, lowering yourself closer to the woman, turning her neck to the side to whisper in her ear. “How does it feel? Does my boyfriend make you feel good? Does he make you feel as good as I make you feel?”
“I-it feels, he feels s-so good” The woman squeaks. Jungkook places a kiss upon her neck behind her ear and you feel the way her body trembles underneath both of your touch. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress the smile trying to make its way to your face.
You lower your face towards her, your lips a hair's breadth away from her own “What about me?” You tease with a pinch of her nipple, feeling her harden beneath you both. “I’m a good girl, didn’t you know? I’d never hurt a soul, ask anyone. Ask him.”
Jungkook’s eyes are dark, full of hunger and not just for the woman he has tangled in his arms. “Now kitten, why lie to your meal?” He toys with you both with his words.
“You won’t hurt me, I-I trust you,” she mutters, trying to assure you or herself, you’re unsure.
“Silly girl. Now why would you do something as reckless as trusting me?” You purr. Your head is spinning, still not sated from the lifeless male you just sunk your teeth into not even five minutes ago. “You’re gorgeous and I want you, so what’s the point of beating around the bush?” You accentuate your words with another squeeze of her clothed breast.
Your tongue dips out of your mouth and you flatten it against her neck, feeling a puddle of blood begin to gather at the tip of your tongue. “As for you baby, why does it matter if I tell a white lie or not…she isn’t going to be around to remember what happens.”
The woman doesn’t get time to muster up a response to you as Jungkook cackles with a shrug of his shoulders and sinks his teeth into her neck once more. You laugh obnoxiously before plunging your sharp teeth into her right next to your boyfriend.
Both of you close your eyes and listen to her as she makes an involuntary noise which you think resembles a scream. She reclines her head to the side so that both of your jaws gently graze each other as you feed from the artery. It’s messy and not at all how you both usually feed. There is normally an etiquette to it… keep it short, clean and leave no traces behind. But with the way blood splatters around both your mouths, watching it seep into her clothing and pouring down to pool at her feet, it unleashes a whole other side of you that you’ve kept hidden for so long.
The bite as you know from experience is a flash in her skin, a tell tale sign she can feel it as her mouth opens wide in pain, eyes closed just letting the feeling take over her body. The fire in her body becomes exorbitant, excessive, but when the pain dissolves into the deep bittersweet ache; it’s at that point that they can’t decide if the high of the adrenalin and the searing venom in their system is pleasurable or painful or something else altogether.
Your fingers press further into her throat, allowing the blood to rush to the surface of her neck as you and Jungkook continue to lap up at the liquid. You’ve got to give it to him, he was right about her — she is insatiable. Sweet to the tongue, leaving a tingle to take over your body.
It isn't long before horror is filling her emotions as she begins to tremble with fear as her life begins to pour out of her. She is using any last ounce of strength she can find to thrash around and fight you both off of her but it is not any use. Not with the exhilaration coursing through your body paired with both Jungkook’s and your own unnatural strength, there is no way she is able to overpower you both and fight back.
The sounds between you and Jungkook slurping from her fills your ears and leaves you feeling more turned on than you ever would have thought. It spurs you on to continue drinking from the puncture wounds in her neck. The familiar metallic taste being drawn from her as you feel her body grow limp in Jungkook's arms is such a treat. Her cries have come to a silence and the sounds of her whimpering are becoming more and more faint the longer the transaction between the three of you continues.
You open your eyes to see Jungkook already staring at you, delirious lust swimming in his eyes, a silent want for you burning in his eyes. The more you two feed, the more you’re both itching to get your hands on each other. Your pussy aches with the need to be filled by Jungkook, to be pressed flushed with desire as he makes a mess of your body in the presence of the demised bodies that litter the bed you’re on.
Jungkook is eager to get you in his arms, releasing his hold on the limp body in his arms in favour of having you instead. The body drops to the floor with a thud, her head falling awkwardly to the side as some of the blood between the dead bodies seeps into her blonde hair, painting it red.
Leaning over, you're quick to pull at the fabric of his blood soaked shirt and pull it from the buttons, watching as they scatter around the room, the small sound of them making contact with the floor resounding around the room. Removing the shirt from his shoulders, you lean in further and press a kiss to his neck. A relieved sigh escapes his lips and his hand moves from your hair to your hips, holding you steady in his grip.
Your teeth are wet with blood as they scrape over the skin of his neck without sinking into him, just dragging them across with enough pressure to tickle. Your own hands find the taut muscles of his chest, flattening them against his skin and running up towards his neck and down again on his pectorals to feel the smooth expanse of it. At this, Jungkook growls low as his grip on your waist tightens.
Without another word, Jungkook tears your dress off your body, hearing it rip fully down the middle and watching him throw the useless material into a puddle of blood makes you keen for more of him. Jungkook flips your body around and positions you on your knees with your lower body up in the air, giving it a hard spank as you get into the perfect position for him. Ass up and facing him wantingly. Your palms are planted into the bloodied duvet as you feel the red substances bathe your hands. You wiggle your ass teasingly to Jungkook who is now on his knees behind your body, his hands finding your ass cheeks again, kneading them roughly.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful like this. Just for me,” Jungkook moans as he smacks your cheeks with quick lefts and right. You sway your body at the impact of his hands but Jungkook holds you in place with the other hand keeping a tight grip on your waist.
“Don’t be gentle with me, I’m not going to break y’know,” you sass him.
You bite down on your bottom lip, smiling naughtily as you hear him growl at your words. It isn’t long before the hand on your hip slides up your spine and finds the back of your head and successfully pushes your face into the sheets below you. The roughness of Jungkook’s actions gets you wetter, the bloodlust in your body causing your body to shiver at the act. Jungkook applies more pressure to keeping your head down as he slides a thigh in between your legs and spreads them open before grabbing at your skirt and pulling it up your hips and yanking your underwear down to hang around your thighs at your knees, exposing your dewy pussy fully to his hungry eyes.
“Fuck, would you just look at you. A dumb bloodwhore getting wet at the slightest of touches.”
You spread your legs wider, as far as your underwear will let you and shake your ass for him once more under his praise for you, moaning at the filthy words leaving his lips.
“Who’s all this for, huh?” Jungkook groans as his hands move to the back of your thighs as he kneels down to your pussy and blows on it.
Your body produces goosebumps as you feel them beginning to tickle your skin. “For you, baby, it’s always all for you.”
Jungkook seems happy with your response as he rewards you with his hand running up and down your pussy from behind, trailing it from your clit to your entrance before slapping your pussy repeatedly - the sounds of skin making contact with your wetness filling the space around you both. Dipping his head down, Jungkook spreads you open further and licks one long stripe from your ass to your clit. Your mouth opens as a string of curses fall from your lips, the feeling of his mouth finally on you making your mind spin.
“Mmm, you taste so much better after you’ve eaten, I’m never going to get enough of you like this,” he hums.
You gasp at the feel of Jungkook’s tongue forcefully passing through your lips, finding your clit immediately and sucks your nerves vigorously. Two cold ringed fingers find their way to your opening, pushing through your slicked up hole with no resistance as he begins to scissor you open at a renowned pace.
You arch your back as a cry passes your lips. His fingers plunge inside of you, curling as soon as he is knuckle deep, pressing perfectly against the spongy area within your inner walls over and over. You can hardly respond to Jungkook as his hands keep your thighs pried open for his own take.
His thumb is added into the mix as he spits on the appendage and pins it against your clit and rubs furiously back and forth, watching as the white of your own precum drips from your pussy like it is the only thing you know how to do just for him. Your hips instinctively move, grinding into his touch and Jungkook moves his fingers further out of you. Teasing you. Edging you, with his very skilled fingers.
“I want to cum, please,” your voice is light and rings in Jungkook’s mind wonderfully.
His tongue runs down lower and joins his two fingers in your cunt. The feeling of being so full causes you to clench against Jungkook while he adds in a third finger, keeping up with the momentum and the pace he has found himself in as he continues to fuck into you.
A light gush of fluid is felt on his forearm and his cheeks. Not thinking of anything about it at first, Jungkook ignores it and keeps thrusting and curling three fingers in and out, all over again.
Unexpectedly, a new wave of liquid releases from you in streams, the force of it pushing his fingers out of your pussy. Jungkook doesn’t know where to look: at you from in between your knees or at the jets of cum being released all over him and soaking into the blood soaked sheets underneath you both.
“Fuck, Jungkook-fuck, just like that!” You scream, thighs twitching and hips raising in delight at the force of your orgasm from out of the blue.
Jungkook watches as the streams of cum come to a stop slowly and promptly inserts the same three fingers in once more. Your legs spread even wider, the stretch in your thighs burns but it allows Jungkook more space as he gets on his knees as he finger fucks you harder, faster than previously. “You mean like this?”
Your inner walls tighten around his fingers as his tempo from previously hasn’t faltered once, and once again you snap your eyes tight, an array of stars like you had witnessed at dusk earlier in the night cloud your vision. Your body twitches in oversensitivity and you finally come once more. This time, Jungkook’s fingers stay inside of you, pushing through the force of your cunt weeping for him as he watches your cum spray around him.
“Wow, twice, kitten. You really are a cock-hungry, filthy little slut,” Jungkook goads. An idea reaches his mind.
You feel the bed get lighter as Jungkook removes himself from the duvet and stands at the end with his back towards you. You crawl towards his frame and wrap your arms around his tiny waist, placing your hands on his rippling stomach muscles and pressing down, feeling them harden beneath your pads. He can’t see you with his back to you but he can feel the smirk on your face when you press your lips all over his back, nipping at the skin with your fangs ever so gently, not focusing on one particular area.
“What you thinking, baby?” You ask, lust lacing your words as your hand reaches down to his hard cock as you give him a tight squeeze in your hands, palming his length over and over until the tent in his trousers becomes tight for him and prominent for you to gawk at.
You slip your hands into the waistband of Jungkook’s boxers and pull his cock out, freeing him from his tightening restraints. You watch as he throws his head back in delight, hearing him sucking air through his teeth, hissing as your hand wraps around his shaft. He is long, hard and sensitive to the touch. Your hand is barely big enough to close around him fully. Jungkook moans as you squeeze his cock a few times, feeling him throb, his body tensing.
Jungkook turns around and faces you as he starts to move his hands and pulls both his bottoms and underwear off swiftly, kicking them off his legs and letting them land in a pile somewhere across the room. The low lighting compliments him so beautifully — bathing his caramel coloured skin in a halo, a complete juxtaposition to the creature he truly is and yet symbolic to his character. He runs a hand through the slicked back hair, allowing strands to fall in front of his face and in front of his eyes — which are deep and rich in browns and golds with hints of crimsons with his arousal.
Your eyes trail down and take in his body. Lean, built, muscles bulked and simply divine, ready to have your teeth sink into the flesh to taste who he really is. His right arm inked in delicate swirls and patterns of his previous life as a human, whilst his left arm remains fully free from any art. The only piece on his arm sits on his shoulder.
A bite mark.
His forever reminder of you. Once a human is turned from a vampire, they’re then given the choice by their creator to have the mark removed or allow it to stay, and Jungkook chose the latter. Jungkook chose to wear your mark on his skin for everyone and anybody to see…call it a declaration of his love for you. And to this day, Jungkook wears his mark proudly. He still leaves his right arm free of any tattoos, ‘the only art that matters on this arm is yours, and I will never cover or conceal it with anything else’ is what he so lovingly told you.
Your favourite part of his stature is his lower body. The softness of the skin as your fingers dance across his tummy, muscles tightening and protruding under the touch is a sight you never will get enough of. The butterflies that fill your body are prideful and bright all because his body reacts to you and only you. It’s something that you never grow tired of. Watching his body respond to even the slightest of touches.
As usual though, there is a slight scowl on his face as he looks at your body as the knowledge that he will never be able to mark your body like you had his sits in his mind. The love bite he has on his skin can only be given by a maker, you’d never be able to show Jungkook’s love for you off in the same way]. Jungkook wants nothing more than to be able to mark you for himself. To show the world that you’re just as much his as he is yours.
If you had a live, beating heart; you know that it would sink at the look he gives you. As a compromise, you decided that you would get your engagement finger tattooed with his initials. This was your version of his mark on your body, and though it wasn’t the same; Jungkook couldn’t be more than happy. The initials on your finger to be sealed with an eventual ring to bind your both together. It’s the same hand you wrap around his cock, pumping it languidly, squeezing it teasingly.
The shaft, having seen it so many times previously, never fails to turn you on - your stomach coiling in desire at the knowledge that you’ll have him sinking deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. His length is something that men would desire to attain. Jungkook as a human was well endowed but after turning, he really had been gifted as the round mushroom head stands tall past his belly button. The shaft is thick from base to tip, deep blue and purple veins protruding against his skin which sits prettily within the bright sanguine colour of his girth.
Beads of pearlescent fluids decorate the tip as Jungkook leaks a generous amount of precum from the slit of his crown. As it continues to leak, it builds into a copious puddle and starts to run down his shaft slowly towards the base. The lighting of the room allows the cum to shimmer in front of you. Your own walls of your pussy clenching at the sight of him standing in all his glory. You pull your lower lip between your teeth to hide the smirk of pride that you indeed created the man in front of you.
“Wan’ to put my cock in between your fucking tits,” Jungkook announces, eyes on your nipples that are peeking through the thin material of the vest.
Grinning up at him, you pull at the item of clothing and tug it out of the waistband of your skirt. Once you’ve released the hem of the vest, you pull it upwards and over your head, your breasts immediately coming into his view.
Jungkook reaches down to your tits and begins kneading the flesh roughly in his hands, ripping a moan from you as he finds both of your nipples and pulls at them.
You give him a debauched grin, teasingly and playful as you run your teeth over your teeth, making sure to spend extra time running it back and forth over your razor sharp canines as your hands lift your boobs from the bottom and squishing them together, inviting Jungkook to sink his cock right between the flesh.
A deep chuckle sounds in your ears from Jungkook as if what you’re doing is incorrect, but this is what he wanted, right? Your brow furrows in confusion and as if he can read your mind, he lowers himself and plants a small kiss on your pouting lips.
“I need to lube myself up — can't fuck your pretty tits dry, can I?” And you nod your head in agreement.
You take it upon yourself to gather the spit in your mouth to spit in between the valley of your breasts once, twice and then thrice — making sure there is enough saliva to coat the skin to give him an easy slide. You look up at Jungkook, awaiting the praise for being a good girl for him, but what you see instead catches you so off guard that you almost stutter.
Jungkook is on his knees next to the blonde girl from earlier who you both fed from before killing her and tossing her aside so you could fuck until your dead non-beating hearts would give out. He manhandles her aggressively, flipping her over into a boneless heap to reveal a pool of her blood that had gathered under her. Without wasting a single moment, Jungkook puts his hands together and dips them into the vermilion liquid as if to lift the blood in his palms like it was water.
You watch from your position on the bed as he brings his hands over to his cock and lets the blood spill all over his length, bathing it in red liquid all for your pleasure. The smell of the bloody concoction mixed with his precum that is drooling from his slit evades your senses and your mind runs erratically, the bloodlust coursing through you.
Jungkook lifts more of the blood and keeps pouring it all over his cock, covering his hard appendage in nothing but crimson. You watch as it drips towards the floor and puddles just in front of his knees and your tongue licks your lips, an attempt to stop the water from dripping down your chin.
The smile on Jungkook’s face as he stares at you is one of someone who has just won the lottery, and in your own sinister way, you both have you think. Jungkook walks over to you, cock against his stomach, trailing the woman's blood over his stomach and dripping to down his shaft towards his balls — the sight gets you so fucking wet.
Why is this never something you have both done before? If feeding together is going to result in this every time, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get used to it.
Once again, you lift your spit slicked tits together invitingly for Jungkook and he smirks at you, lower lip caught in his teeth as you move to the edge of the bed, staring at him with large crimson lust filled eyes.
Jungkook swallows, leaning up over the bed and places his cock in between your tits, watching the blood smear against your skin, mixing with the spit you produced for an ample slick slide. For good measure, Jungkook gathers a generous amount of spit and spits onto your skin, watching as the enzymes in his spit splits the blood it landed on top of.
Looking down, you can see his blood dowsed cockhead poke out at the top of your chest and you can’t help but press a kiss to the head, the blood transferring from his crown to your lips.
“Go ahead, move baby — enjoy my tits,” you whisper.
Wasting no time, Jungkook rocks his hips back ever so slightly and watches as his head disappears into the valley of your large boobs before rutting himself forward once more, seeing himself reappear at the top of your chest. He continues this, hands on your shoulders to keep you still for a generous amount of time.
“Oh shit, I know you love my tits but this is so fucking hot baby,” you cry at the end.
His eyes previously locked on the action of watching his cock disappear between the folds of your tits with only the head poking back up was the only thing preoccupying his mind, but to hear your voice, it tears him from the vision he’s been so entranced with to gazed into your eyes.
If heaven existed and it was somewhere he thought he could reach, he really truly believed that you had brought him there. That your tits were God and he had been blessed. But on the other thought, being wrapped around the tight flesh of your tits, watching the blood you both spilled together soil your skin, he thinks, he knows this is better than any heaven he could be blessed with. This is nirvana.
“Just as if you were made for this. Made for taking every inch of my cock”. Jungkook doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. His hips rutting, still pumping his unholy lengthy shaft back and forth between your huge blood covered tits. Glancing down, you watch as the head of Jungkook's shaft pokes upward with each thrust, the once red liquid now turning a pinkish colour as his cum overflows from the slit, into the blood and onto your skin.
Parting your lips, you flick your tongue over the head every time it appears under your chin. Jungkook isn’t quick with his thrusts, instead, he takes it slow so the both of you can enjoy this moment together.
He closes his eyes, still rocking his hips back and forth, his cock nestled in between your tits as you tighten the seal of your boobs between his cock, pleasuring not just him but yourself. Jungkook rolls his head back in a full circle, his neck rolling from left to right until perfectly centred again, dropping his head down and pressing a rough kiss to your lips.
You moan into his mouth feeling Jungkook begin to pick up the pace, pumping his cock at a more rapid speed, chasing his high. You turn your head to the side and deepen the kiss, refusing to let the embrace end, as you both open your mouths simultaneously and slide your tongues against each other, the sound of grunting, moaning swallowed by the other as your lips create wet noises against each other.
Jungkook manages to capture your head in between his hands, stilling you through the kiss whilst his cock is still thrusting between your tits with enough vigour and power enough for the head to nearly touch your neck.
Breaking the kiss, Jungkook pulls back and stills his hips. He grabs his blood-soaked cock by the base and notices the plasma is drying against his cock. He wraps his hand around the shaft, tightening his grip, applying pressure trying to mimic the feeling of your boobs around him. Looking down at your chest, there he sees a similar sight — your chest covered in blood, primarily between your boobs but also drops of crimson had found its way towards your nipples and onto the round flesh itself, drying onto you. Jungkook brings the slit of his cock to your hard nipple and presses down on it. The move is sensitive for the both of you, but somewhat stimulating and arousing.
“On your knees, I want to use your throat, get me all wet with your mouth,” he orders, pulling you out of your thoughts, pulling your hair, pulling you off the bed and onto the flooring below, managing to navigate you so your knees aren’t pressing into one the woman you both fed on moments ago.
A whimper slips from your lips at his demanding demeanour, tongue poking out and licking the skin of your lips, catching the saliva that threatens to drip below down to your chin. You do as you’re told and in return you hear a loud grunt from above you, a sign of appreciation for your obedience.
You wet your lips with your tongue, readying yourself to take him into your mouth. The tip of his dick is wet from where most of the woman's blood was bathing, and as you wrap your lips around him, sealing the skin around his cock, you can taste the honeyed blood as well as the bittersweetness of his leaking precum smearing across your parted lips.
Sharpening your tongue, you allow yourself the first flick of his slit, tasting the rich concoction as it tingles on your wet muscle. Jungkook bucks his hips the moment your tongue licks at his cock, lapping up the cum that is running down his length excessively. You feel him throb against your tongue in pleasure, a deep moan from deep within his chest erupts as he pushes himself eagerly against you and slips past your lips. You watch as his cock becomes less and less red from the bodily fluid, knowing that your tongue is wrapping around and sucking hard on him like your favourite flavoured lollipop to steal and saviour all the taste from him as you lap and clean him up.
With your lips wrapping around the head of his cock, you begin to slide your tongue on the undershaft of his dick further into your mouth. It isn’t long before Jungkook is placing his hands around the back of your neck and filling his fist with your hair, bunching it into a makeshift ponytail so he can control the pace you bop your head up and down on his cock. Blood covers the corners of your mouth and dries into the skin and Jungkook thinks it is one of the most beautiful sights he has ever seen.
“You can fucking take it, be a good girl and take it,” Jungkook hisses past gritted teeth, encouraging you to fit as much of him as you possibly can into mouth.
Your eyes glaze as you hum out a ‘yes’ around him. You will yourself to sink his dick further into your throat, causing you to hum - the vibrations rattling against his cock causing the hand tangled into your hair to tighten. You open the seal of your lips from around him and inch your head down to the base of his cock where you slither your tongue from the bottom all the way up to the top, tracing the protruding veins with your tongue. You make sure to repeat the action twice over and then down to his balls. Your lips envelope around one of his balls, feeling them thick and heavy on your tongue tickling and teasing — knowing he has something he wants to give you. You can’t help but suckle on his balls one by one as he fists himself in time with the way your wet muscle wraps around and tugs his balls.
Jungkook’s hand tangles once more in your hair and pushes you off of him and twists your face to the side. His other palm wraps around his cock and places it in front of your mouth, guiding your head to suck on him from the side.
Your mouth opens and your tongue is quick to dart out. Placing his length on your tongue, he ruts forward to wet himself with the saliva on your tongue. And then he feels it. Point of your white of fangs as they drag across his skin. Rough oral sex with each other isn’t something either of you are new too but the feeling of your vampiric teeth gliding across his most sensitive area and the knowing thought that at any moment you could sink your teeth into him gets him harder than he believes he’s ever been..and you notice. The hair on his skin stands tall and he shivers as you stare at him from below. You're able to read his thoughts clearly and a tiny giggle falls from your mouth.
Looking up, your eyes are met with the most beautiful sight you could have imagined. Jungkooks bottom lip is pulled in between his teeth, fangs pointed and still stained with red as he tries to hold back on the moans threatening to escape his mouth, his eyes now a deep shade of crimson as he continues to be lost in the lust of you, your hot, wet mouth feeling fucking amazing wrapped around him. His chest is heaving up and down in quick successions as he tries to keep his body from jerking forward and fucking your throat entirely.
Almost like he was reading your mind, Jungkook pulls you completely off of his cock and holds your head to look at him directly. A string of saliva is connecting you to his red tip, which is now slicked up with your drool.
“Open your filthy mouth,” he tells you.
You don’t hesitate as you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, knowing exactly what it is he is asking of you. Jungkook tightens the grip in your hair and forces your head to tip back, causing the concoction keeping you connected to snap and drip down your chest. He gathers spit in his mouth and parts his lips. But he doesn’t spit in your mouth like you thought he would. No. Jungkook lets the fluid run off his tongue and straight into your mouth, now connecting you both with saliva, tongue to tongue.
The sight in itself was nothing short of erotic. Sincerley pornographic and you try your hardest to burn the image of this moment to the back of your eyelids.
Having had enough waiting, he snaps the saliva by bending himself at the hips and forcefully presses his lips against your own, a kiss full of teeth and tongues, wet, messy and dominant from the both of you as you fight to take charge. He is low enough for your hand to snake behind his neck and tug at the roots of his hair at the nape of his neck. You part your lips and allow his tongue to glide in and out of your mouth, kissing you deeper.
The kiss grows hotter with every passing second as he silences your moans with the sloppy crash of his lips against yours, dipping his head down to kiss you in a messy, passionate kiss filled with love, lust and utter adoration for you. Jungkook growls as he tastes the remnants of himself on your tongue.
Jungkook breaks the kiss and stands back at full height. His cock twitches in front of you and you lick your lips in anticipation to have him fully emerge in the back of your throat once again. He places both his hands in your hair unlike just the one before and pulls your head back towards his cock. You tease him once more and place his tip on your lips to suckle on him.
Not being prepared for your mouth to tease him so subtly, his body reacts before he can stop himself and he forces himself forward. Your eyes tightly close as the vibrations of your moans are intense on this dick, allowing a choked growl from his chest to fill the air. Rivulets of cum drip from his swollen tip as he gives you a moment to suck it off of him before pulling you off of his dick for a brief moment.
Jungkook stops your head from moving as both of them weave to the back of your head, close to the nape of your neck. You close your eyes as you wait for what’s about to come next.
You keep your mouth open wide, jaw unhinged as Jungkook takes his cock in his hand and rubs his tip over plush lips, small moans leaving his throat as he teases himself at the thought of plugging up your oesophagus and you watch his face contort with lust just at the idea of it. His balls slap against your chin and rivulets of cum run from your lips every time your mouth meets the base of his crotch. You moan again and again, over and over, twisting your tongue around his cock and over the head.
Without warning, Jungkook forces his cock into your open mouth and pushes himself fully inside, not giving you any warning. You choke around him as a pool of drool drips down the sides of your mouth at being so full, feeling it drip further from your chin onto your chest and in between the valley of your tits. He pulled out quickly, a sinister smile on his face knowing that you don’t need to catch your breath for him to sink back into you without any hesitation.
His cock forces your jaw to widen further as his hips wildly jackhammer into your awaiting spit filled throat back and forth over and over again as you look up at him from your knees, through teary eyes to see his own eyes are rolling blissfully into the back of his skull as he abuses your throat.
“I’m the luckiest man on the planet, I-fuck-I-,” he groans. “Such a fucking whore.”
Your mouth turns up into a smile while his cock is still pistoning in and out of your lips. His hips pick up pace as he starts to slide faster, the copious amount of spit gathered on your tongue allowing him to glide past your tongue and into the cavern of your tight throat so much easier. The grip on your hair still keeps you still, Jungkook pushes himself past the barrier of your throat until your nose is pressed up against the base of his cock. His fists pull you further onto his cock as he bends himself at the waist once more and traps your head in between his cock and upper body.
The noises of you gurgling and choking around him only arouses him further, his hands pushing at the back of your head further - not that there's any more you can possibly take, but the force of his tip pushing past the tight barrier of your oesophagus turns him on more than he ever believed it would.
"Fuck...that's it kitten, swallow my cock, oh-shit." One of his hands finds the front of your throat and presses his fingers into your windpipe. He begins to rock his hips back and forth at an unrelenting pace, feeling the outline of his cock shaping your esophageal muscles. “Beg me like the bloodwhore you are, hm. Beg me for my cock, to use you like you know what your only purpose is, in the only way you know that you should be used,” Jungkook growls, making sure to keep his eyes on you.
Heat pools in your stomach at his words, coiling and twisting with soaring pleasure at the excitement of being nothing but a toy for his enjoyment. Feeding together might be a new activity that Jungkook has found to be thrilling and exciting to do together but nothing comes close, no activity is more of a favourite than using you, your body, pushing you beyond your limits for his own thrill and enjoyment.
Words are lost on your tongue and instead wrap around Jungkook's cock, which never stops jackhammering down your throat. Nothing but garbled sounds are all that is heard, along with the sounds of wet gagging resounding in the air around you. Instead, you eagerly nod your head up at him.
Eventually, Jungkook pulls out of your cavern with a moan and watches as your mouth frees up — spit and cum bathing his cock and decorating the skin of his stomach as his cock slams back against the muscles. Your lips are full, swollen, used, with saliva and remnants of sticky honeyed precum running past the seam of your lips and clings to your chin and inches its way towards your tits.
Jungkook in all his unnatural pace throws you back onto the blood soaked sheets before sinking his knees into the bed on either side of your body and lowers his head to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, teeth and tongues fighting against each other as you pull each other as close as you can physically get. You’re certain that if either of you could feel anything other than cold that you would both be lit on fire at the bites, tugs and pulls of each other's swollen lips. With a final nip Jungkook wins the battle, he blows against your chilled skin as he moves away from your mouth and manoeuvres your head with his own to connect his lips to the skin underneath your earlobe.
His mouth moves languidly down your jaw line, tongue making the first part of contact and then his lips sealing around his little lick for a kiss. Jungkook takes his time to dot kisses down your neck, inhaling your sweet natural aroma of your flesh as well as the crystalline blood that lay underneath. A hand slides up your sides and stops at your torso while the other is fast in grabbing at both of your wrists and holding them against the pillows. “Keep them there,” he tells you.
His hands roam back down and find your chest, dragging his fingers across both of your tits, his mouth following behind them. Closing his lips around your nipple, Jungkook sucks vigorously, scraping the hardening bud with his fangs over and over, watching as your hips raise off the sheets in euphoria. You can feel Jungkook’s hard cock pressing against your thigh as your body lifts and for a brief moment, you thought you could feel him throb against your skin in a rhythm his heart used to beat too.
The sounds of Jungkook tongue sucking at your tits creates tingles through your body, a pool of arousal gathering at your core. Jungkook’s hand finds your other breast and kneads the flesh between his fingers and with a side eye, he watches as the skin appears through the spaces of his fingers the harder he squeezes. With a timed sharp twist of your nipple and a piercing bite to the skin of your other breast, you wince, body shaking at the pleasure he is bestowing upon you.
Cupping the bottoms of your tits, Jungkook gently squeezes them, pushing them together and pulling another moan past your lips. A stream of crimson seeps from the fresh wound, wetting your skin and dribbles down to Jungkook’s mouth. It isn’t unheard of that Vampires can feed from each other. It’s a love bond, especially between those created and their maker. With their heightened senses, some vampires prefer to dilute the liquid before they drink from each other; however with you and Jungkook, there is nothing more arousing and romantic than tasting each other for who you both really are.
“I’ll never get enough of your taste. You gonna let me fuck you around all these bodies, hm? Let me stuff your tiny,messy pussy as I see fit?” He snarls, the bitter honeyed taste of your blood pooling on his tongue and painting his teeth red. “I’ll fuck you in these blood sodden sheets, like the bloodslut you are. Play with yourself baby, you’ve earned it.”
Your body sparks in pleasure and your mind spins in delirium at the order he is coaxing you with. Voice husky and filled to the brim with lust. Your hands unclamp from each other from their previous position above your head and you let your dominant hand seek out your pussy.
Taking two fingers, you spread your saturated pussy lips apart for his own viewing pleasure, and allow your other hand to glide over your swollen nerves in the most feather-like of touches. You’re so in tuned with your sensitivity, the lightest of touches sparking a ravenous hunger deep within, your body craving, aching for more. You decide to press down harder, feeling your pussy drown with a new precum of your own, wetting itself at the knowledge that not too long you’ll finally have Jungkook sinking his cock deep into you.
Spreading your legs as wide as you can, you slide a hand between your legs, fingers slipping wetly through your built up arousal and spit. A resounding squelch is heard around the room as your finger slips in between your sodden lips. Your mouth opens in a silent moan and Jungkook uses the opportunity to spit a mixture of saliva and blood onto your tongue.
“Swallow.” He doesn’t stutter once as he watches you close your mouth, the sight of your throat bobbing up and down is the confirmation he needs that you’ve obeyed his request. Jungkook’s own hand finds his shaft, wrapping his fist around himself, he tugs his skin back and forth in tandem to the movements you make around your clit.
You circle the hood of your clit teasingly, making sure to wet your fingers enough before pushing one past the rings of your muscles. You pump slowly, teasing yourself now for only a matter of seconds and then interesting another one into yourself. You relax your body, your fingers easily pushing past your loosening hole, stretching you in preparation of your boyfriend's monstrous cock.
You eye Jungkook in front of you, eyes trailing down to his fist covered cock as you watch him work up and down his shaft, translucent cum slicking up the length making the glide of his hand seamless. You note that when his fingers reach the crown of his cock, he puts in a little extra effort to twist his wrist and let his thumb sweep over his weeping head to continue spreading the essence down his length.
Jungkook’s own eyes never leave the sight of you pushing your fingers inside of yourself, attentive to the way that both of them pull out with sticky white slick of your own cum. Simultaneously, you both moan in appreciation for each other and your ministrations as you finally sink in a third finger, hips lifting off the bed at how you spread around them, opening yourself up and allowing your pussy to swallow your fingers.
“I wish you could look at yourself,” Jungkook murmurs. “You’re such a greedy little slut, look at that hungry cunt. You need my cock that bad, huh, angel? So wet for me. Look at that pretty pussy swallowing your tiny fingers, wishing it was me instead aren’t you, angel.”
At the sound of Jungkook’s words, you spread your legs wider, feeling the muscles in your thighs and calves burn at the overstretch. The hand that is three fingers deep stuffed into your cunt picks up its pace as your free one joins the preoccupied appendage at your pussy, making sure to press two fingers hard against your clit and rubbing in circles at an unforgiving speed — chasing any sort of high that you possibly can.
“Jungkook,” you try, voice broken but thick with lust nonetheless. “I’m ready for you. Fuck me like the whore you know I am for you.”
In record time, Jungkook pulls you up to your feet and takes you in through his own eyes. Blood drying onto your skin, blood leaking out of the wounds he created just a moment ago, make up running down your tear stained cheeks, lips full and puffy from the assault from his cock on your throat. Your eyes are glazed with arousal and your hair a disarray from Jungkook pulling and tugging at the strands. You’re a mess..but only in the best way.
He walks behind you slowly as if you’re now the one being hunted and only makes your want for Jungkook grow. As he places a hand on your hips, you lean back to rest against his collarbone and turn your head towards his face. You inhale and take in the smell of Jungkook — the metallic smell of blood as well as the sweet jasmine and floral scent from your perfume he loves to spray on himself, mixing together and making you dizzy with desire for him.
Jungkook’s other hand trails upwards albeit slowly up your front. He makes sure to ghost his fingers against the flesh of your stomach, stopping at your kiss bitten tit and kneads the flesh in his large palms. His still hand on your hips squeezes at your waist tenderly and you pull your lower lip in between your teeth and clamp down softly to hold back the small moan that threatens to escape.
Without moving your head, you manage to get a glimpse of Jungkook caressing your hands, the white gold of his rings glinting under the moonlight that seeps through the blinds of your shared bedroom. The soft skin of your mounds peeking through the spaces in between his fingers and at this you lose control of keeping your moans at bay.
“Love when you play with me, Kook, mm,” you mewl.
You hear a deep vibration from Jungkook’s chest as his light laugh fills the space around you, a quick kiss placed on the crown of your head. His hand leaves your tit as the other continues to play with your pussy, two fingers passing through your folds to find your clit. “Best toy I could ever ask for. Do me a favour love, and hold your pussy open for me.”
With that, he lifts his fingers up to his mouth and you replace his with your own, opening your lips in a V shape, the cold air making contact with your sensitive clit causing your body to shiver. Jungkook wraps his mouth around his digits, coating them in his spit before removing them and placing his hand in front of your mouth as you move to repeat the action. “Nu huh baby..spit.”
You do as you’re told and gather enough saliva in your mouth before spitting on his fingers, watching the concoction of both your bodily fluids mix together. A second chuckle is heard from behind you and Jungkook doesn’t waste another moment as his fingers make direct contact with your clit thanks to your fingers keeping yourself open and waiting for him.
Not being able to avoid the growing pleasure taking over your senses, your mouth hangs open, tongue licking at your lips out as your eyes screw shut. Jungkook makes sure to keep up his ruthless pace of pistoning into you, his tight grip on your thighs sure to leave marks.
Your legs wobble at the collision, a hand winding its way around Jungkook’s neck as you try to steady yourself. You find the long strands of his gel slicked back hair at the nape of his neck and pull with vigour, hearing a hiss from your boyfriend. His palm on your hips slides forward, trapping you behind the hard muscles of his chest and his forearm, the hand now holding the other hip managing to keep you upright as he continues to attack your clit with hard presses.
New arousal drips out of your hole like sweet nectar dripping from a flourished flower. Jungkook swipes a finger through the wetness and uses that as an extra lubricant to aid his movements against your clit, the wet squelching resounding around the bedroom.
After managing to find your balance, Jungkook lets your hip go in favour of pressing the palm under your chin, his fingers pressing into the side of your face, pushing your neck up in his direction, letting him instantly press his mouth against yours in a messy kiss.
Before you have the chance to seal your mouth in the kiss, Jungkook slips his tongue past the seam of your lips, tangling his muscle with your own, taking control instantaneously. It’s rough and sloppy, drawn out with strings of saliva creating a stickiness between the both of you as soon as your lips meet each other.
If your body had a beating heart, warmth or anything deemed human, you know that your body would be on fire as Jungkook indulges every part of your senses. However, your head is spinning and your skin tingles, enjoying everything Jungkook bestows upon you.
“Your scent,” Jungkook whispers against your mouth. He breaks the kiss and allows his nose to press against your cheek softly as he inhales. Your watch as his eyes flutter as his nose travels towards your jaw before pressing in between the juncture of your neck and shoulder and inhales, “is thick and sweet,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder, “so beautiful. I could never want anybody else.” You grin at his words.
You let out a yelp when you feel Jungkook pushing you down on the bed face down, hips high. “Open your fucking legs.” Jungkook grabs onto your thighs and pushes them apart, opening you up fully for his viewing pleasure and you can’t help but teasingly shake your ass for him. At the sight of your dripping cunt, Jungkook’s mouth waters and he lands a harsh slap against your left cheek, moaning at the way it jiggles on impact. His cock is hard, throbbing and begging to be stuffed inside your clenching cunt.
Teasing you, Jungkook stands above you and grabs himself by the base of his cock. Your body twitches deliciously when you feel the blunt head of his cock slide in between the lips of your pussy. Jungkook begins a slow rock of his hips back and forth, coating himself in your wetness and groans as he watches himself become slick with your essence.
“You need my cock that bad, I better give it to you.” Jungkook laughs as he wraps his hand around his dick and pumps himself once, twice, thrice, glazing his length. In one swift movement, he pulls himself back until he lines his tip with your entrance, watching as your head falls forward as Jungkook slowly begins to press into you, filling you up deliciously. “Beg me to move.”
Jungkook leans over your back and grabs your wrists in each of his hands and pulls you upright against him. You feel the taut muscles of his torso press against your back as he steps further forward, inching his cock further into you than you thought possible. A knuckle brushes across your cheek before his ringed fingers grips your jaw firm and twists your head to the side to look at him.
For a split second, you're dazed, the lust taking over you as he manhandles you so easily. Sex with Jungkook is better than anything you could have predicted, both as a human or creature of the night — being able to call him your own causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach. Leaning back so he can watch, Jungkook lets himself sink into your soft, wet heat. His girth slowly disappears between your swollen, battered lips, his mind short circuiting at the feeling of his cock finally being sheathed inside you.
You’re brought back down to earth as Jungkook tightens the grip on your cheek, pulling himself out of your cunt at the slowest pace so you feel every ridge of his cock drag against your walls punishingly.
“Use your words. I said-,” he thrusts back in, “beg,” he pulls out again and fucks back into you harder, “me,” and again, “for,” again, “it,” one he leaves and slams back into you one last time.
You let out a whined out “yes” in response and it seems like it was enough for Jungkook.
“You always want me this bad, don’t you,” Jungkook scoffs, lust lacing his words. You don’t answer, the feeling of being filled up by Jungkook causes all words to die on your tongue, replacing it with incoherent murmurs. “Too fucked out already at just the thought of me.”
Shifting his weight, Jungkook removes himself from your pussy and then thrusts back into you — harder and much deeper than the first time, passing through the tightness of your walls. He looks between both of your bodies and watches as your pussy wraps around him snuggly.
Jungkook slams his cock into you repeatedly bottoming out every single time he breaches your pussy, feeling your walls clenching against his length, practically sucking him in. The stretch he is providing is enough to kill for, making this life with him by your side worth it.
“Shit, I-, fuck you so often and you’re always still this tight,” Jungkook moans through gritted teeth, the fingers keeping your jaw set in place squeezes your cheeks and causes your lips to pout stupidly.
“Y-yes, I want you, I need you baby.” A shiver runs through you, your hand reaching up and wraps around Jungkook’s thick bicep.
“You feel incredible,” Jungkook coos, voice airy as he loses himself to the lust. You moan out and Jungkook is quick to swallow the moans as he leans down to kiss you. “So wet, dripping down my cock, such a good girl for me.”
He is ruthless. So fucking rough with you. The power in his movements against you leaves you sex drunk and it’s everything you could ever need, ever want from him. The feeling of his cock slamming deep inside of you repeatedly, over and over causes your head to fall back back against his chest, mouth open as you become a blithering, incoherent mess in his hands.
His pace is inhumane, your body cold to the touch but he can’t seem to get enough of the warmth your pussy provides him when he sinks back in. Jungkook’s hand falls down to your neck and immediately seals his grip across your skin. There is no need to keep an eye on your breathing, allowing him to apply as much pressure as he likes.
“You always fuck me so well, baby,” you choke the words out, the vibrations in your throat tickling against Jungkook’s palm.
You still feel lightheaded, not from the lack of air but from the desire, the itch to have more of Jungkook even as he already fully consumes every single part of your mind, body and soul. The black spots you see as your eyelids flutter just make the experience so much more intense.
Jungkook looks down at you from above and a sinister laugh falls from his lips. He looks down at your face as he eases himself in and out mercilessly and hums out. “I can’t hear you over how pathetic noises you’re making.”
Your cunt clenches once more at his words, and the feeling of your orgasm finally begins chasing you. You open your eyes and are met with his own instantly. The sight of dark lustful crimson red and the remaining flecks of amber from his usual form glimpses through — and you think to yourself in your blissful state he really is the most stunning person you have ever laid your eyes on.
“I’m gonna c-come,” you hiccup, feeling the coil in your stomach coil tightening.
Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow in concentration, your words causing his cock to twitch inside of you as it seems like he is starting to chase his own high along with you.
“Look at me when I fuck you,” he tells you. “Look at me when you come.”
Mouth wide, eyes struggling to stay open, you nod for him and Jungkook’s hand moves from your jaw and nestles behind your neck and finds the nape of your neck, pulling your head back from the little strands of hair. Jungkook pulls you closer to his chest, dancing little kisses over your shoulder, his lips soft against your flesh as his fangs graze over the kisses, soft enough to sink into you but hard enough for it to cause your body to erupt in goosebumps.
“Are you gonna let me cum inside you kitten?”
“Y-yes Jungkook, please come inside me!”
Jungkook gives you a thrust hard enough to feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix, your toes curling as his pace never falters but instead quickens and you cry out in pain. “You’re such a cock dumb bloodwhore, oh-shit, wouldn’t have you any other way.” The angles are pristine, perfect, on point and you both know that you aren’t going to last much longer.
His lips are quick and meet yours in a fierce kiss, heavy and full of thirst. He slips his tongue right past your mouth and sucks on your tongue, exploring every crevice of your cavern, just for him as he keeps rocking his cock into your body. The kiss grows more desirous as the sounds of your lips locking together, the slapping of skin on skin, moans and groans from the both of you fill the room.
The pleasure that has built up over the actions of the evening has finally caught up with Jungkook as it becomes almost too much to handle. Nobody, nothing, no amount of feeding, no amount of blood, absolutely nothing has made him the way he feels for you quite like you have. Something akin to love for you washes over him in this moment and it’s been decades…centuries, that he has felt as warm as he does right now. Even in his human life, he’s never felt so strongly for someone else like he does for you and he chases that warmth for you, faster and faster until he stills.
Jungkook’s balls tightens, his thirst for you intensifies, forming a pit in his stomach and his heart sends a chill right up his spine. Earth shatters beneath him and he’s throwing his head back in euphoria as his cock twitches one last time and spills into you. Ropes and ropes of warm cum release into your pussy and your automatic reaction is to grab at the hand he has on your hips and lace your fingers with his, squeezing them as to tell him silently that you love him back.
Jungkook tilts backwards onto his knees and watches as you push a load of milky white cum from your cunt, watching as it drips out of your pussy and lands on the crown of his cock, coating him in his own climax. Jungkook has never seen anything more sinful from you. Overlooking the sensitivity of his body, he takes his cock back in his hand and spreads his cum along his length and lines himself with you once more.
You're on all fours as the stretch of your pussy is felt when Jungkook sinks back inside of you once more. You both moan at the same time and Jungkook draws back and slams back against you and you hear a hiss from behind his teeth.
Shallow thrusts slowly dissolve and Jungkook is once again allowing the pleasure and desire to sear back into his bones — shorter, more power filled assaults of his cock returns and you’re sure that by the tomorrow that you’ll be struggling to keep yourself up right.
Growing bolder in his renewed movements, Jungkook grabs each of your ankles and spreads your legs wider, opening you up further for his viewing pleasure. The sight of his cum from his previous orgasm being pushed from your seeping lips, as well as your own slick which aided his movements.
“Wan’ you to touch yourself.”
You reach down between your legs and dip your fingers past your wet lips, gathering enough cum on your digits and then pressing them onto your pussy. You whimper at the contact, the tightening of your stomach muscles a tell tale sign that you’re nearing your own release.
Jungkook fucks into your harder, his cock coming into contact with your fingers every so often as he slams into you deeper. “Just like that you filthy whore,” he throws his sweat slicked head backwards. His own hand grabs you by the neck once more and brings you up to him once more, turning your neck and aims for kissing your lips but missing in his haste and ends up catching the corner of your mouth.
“Bite me, Jungkook.” You force the words off your tongue as Jungkook’s powerful thrusts pick up.
Wasting no time, Jungkook sinks his fangs into the column of your throat, tearing your skin and pulling it open with his teeth the second he gets a taste of your blood. A hand finds your tits and squeezes one and then the other as he continues to suck the sweet elixir straight from your jugular.
You turn your head enough to puncture your own fangs into the juncture of Jungkook’s throat, next to his shoulder and drink straight from the wound. You’re able to get the faint taste of yourself from through Jungkook’s skin and it only makes you suck harder as he fucks you deeper.
Blood sharing between maker and those they have created isn’t common at all. It’s taboo within the species but fuck, if the maker can create a newborn that also indulges, it creates bonds that become inferior. Indestructible even. It builds relationships, becomes personal to each vampire that participated and holds them to each other forevermore.
You both spend time drinking from each other, both of you feeling your arousal heightening as you open your eyes and take in the sight of your boyfriend. The scent of endorphins and the smell of sex is thick around you, sweet and overwhelming in the best way.
Jungkook removes himself from you and you watch as your blood drips from both corners of his mouth and falls down against your shoulder. Rivulets run down his chains and he runs a hand through it, coating his rings in the honeyed juice.
“Look at me and make yourself cream all over my fucking cock,” he mouths against your lips and then resumes himself, feeling the tip of his cock kiss at your cervix.
Your body is like a live wire, completely alive with every touch Jungkook places against you. You force your eyes to look into Jungkook’s garnet ones as your fingers work harder against your own oversensitivity to bring you to your own orgasm.
“C-coming baby—shit, oh my Go-.” Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you finally feel the coil in your stomach snapping, and again, you’re squirting all over the pair of you.
The rivulets runs out of you harder than the last time, coating your thighs, your hands and Jungkook’s length as he fucks you through it entirely as his own movements grow frantic yet stuttered as he races towards his own second orgasm.
His palm on your throat squeezes as he finally comes, his legs twitching and hips never relenting as they thrust into your wet cunt until he’s sure he’s milked himself dry inside of you.
Cupping himself in his hands, Jungkook moves back to draw his cock out, only keeping his cockhead inside. He wraps his fist around his cock once more as he jerks the length to full completion, slowly, feeling your pussy clench and push the remaining length of him out.
It’s no surprise that you fall onto your side as you grow limp, body falling next to the dead female that you both fed from earlier in the night. Jungkook is not too far off from you as he collapses in a heap next to you and you both laugh at each other.
“I think we might need to clean up,” you say, voice broken from your blood curdling pleasure.
“I think we need to do this more often,” Jungkook says, his own tone not that much different to your own.
You turn towards each other, blood and cum smeared all over your bodies, blood residue all over the floor, walls, furniture and linens and then your eyes land on the dead couple on the floor.
“What do we do with them?” You ask.
Jungkook shrugs his shoulders and pushes the hair on his forehead back as he basks in his post-sex euphoriaism, slotting his mouth over the bitten mark in your neck and letting his tongue soothe over the area, kissing around the masticated wound.
Using the speed of your supernatural abilities to your advantage, you flip Jungkook onto the bed and straddle his waist, kissing his stomach and letting your spit glaze over his abdominal muscles.
“Leave them for dessert later.”
#btshoneyhive#btsdreamcourt#btscarnivalnet#btswritingcafe#btswritersclub#bangtansorciere#jungkook smut#jungkook drabble#jungkook oneshot#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook x you#bts#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook imagine#bts drabble#bts imagine#bts smut#jungkook fanfic
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nessriel | E | hurt/comfort, modern AU - magic/CC inspired
Aux officer Cassian brings a stray home with him and he doesn't want to let her go. Lieutenant Azriel, and his life partner, thinks he has a bleeding heart and an undiagnosed mental health condition - until he meets Nesta Archeron for himself, sweating and vomiting through a self-led alcohol detox, and decides ... yeah, they should keep her. Nesta is at an all-time low, all her bridges burned, but she's going to pull herself together and try to keep her mess from spilling into these ridiculously gorgeous, kind-hearted Auxie's lives.
ao3
(Thank you @popjunkie42 and @thesistersarcheron for the support read throughs!)
For Day One: Beginnings of @polyacotarweek!
Chapters 1-3/9
Preview Below
~*~
Everything fucking hurts: Cassian’s knees are jammed up, his spine crackles along each vertebra, his balls feel like tenderized meat, and his godsdamn shoulder. Ripped out of the socket by a feral leopard shifter, high on pixie dust.
As if the hit that knocked him off of his feet wasn’t bad enough, the amount of paperwork he’d had to fill out because of the right hook he’d landed out of self-defense driven instinct afterwards was even more painful.
Cassian can feel the impact from his wing meeting with the concrete just as much as the strain in his neck from standing bent over the counter at the Aux.
Like the asshole knew how low tech they are.
“Mother fucker,” he mutters, slamming the unit door shut behind him.
He waits to hear the double beep of the lock before shoving the keys in his black jean’s front pocket and shuffling for the stairs to his apartment.
All Cassian wants is to get out of this fucking oppressive bullet-proof vest, kick off his boots, strip off his pants and sprawl on the couch with one hand down the front of his briefs and the other holding a cold beer. Put a game on. Maybe mess around with Az by sending him some dirty pictures.
An image of high cheekbones splattered with a dark flush, hot to the touch, flashes in his mind. Pupils blown wide and hand covering that seductive mouth to hide embarrassment.
Yeah, thinking about the pretty blush that will spread over his partner’s face? The way Az will jerk his head up to make sure no one saw … and then sneak another peek, maybe find an unoccupied room that doesn’t have cameras in it for some privacy?
Cassian grins wickedly.
He will definitely send dirty pictures.
Maybe after a beer or two, his shoulder won’t hurt so bad either and he can send a video tease. Get Az all worked up so he comes home in the morning ravenous, like a male possessed, ready to put Cass in his place for winding him up so tight —
A loud clatter right as Cassian rounds the stairwell to head up to the second floor cuts off his train of thought.
Engrained Aux training makes him hesitate.
Voices rise up behind the closest door.
Shit.
Apartment 132. A real sleazebag.
“— I’m a dirty whore? Yeah? Have you seen your fucking bed sheets?” A female’s voice becomes clear, growing louder along with heavy, slightly muffled footsteps on a carpeted floor. Drawing closer. “Learn how to do the laundry, you infantile asshole!”
The doorknob jiggles a few times along with a few incoherent curses before the door is wrenched open. Unsure what kind of scene is about to spill into the bottom floor of his apartment complex, Cassian holds still aside from his hand edging closer to his holster.
The female has her back to him, still yelling into the apartment with her middle finger in the air. “Your cleaning skills match the size of your cock, unsatisfact- ow!”
Cassian is braced for the collision course, but the female hasn’t been paying attention to anything but lobbing insults at the vampire arguing back half-heartedly from somewhere deeper in the apartment. She jumps as her bare shoulders connect with the kevlar covered metal plate on Cassian’s chest.
She whips around, hellfire seething from her. “Watch where the fuck you’re —”
The words die on her lips as she cranks her head up: taking in the uniform, the badge, the fucking Aux uniform aviator sunglasses perched on the bridge of Cass’s crooked nose.
With his polished talons gleaming two feet higher than his nearly six-and-a-half-foot height, he knows he looks intimidating as hell.
Her gaze lingers on the breadth of his shoulders, the swell of his biceps under his shirt sleeves, the thick column of his neck.
Cassian also knows he looks fit as hell.
“Shit,” she curses, but it’s breathy enough to sound unintentional.
The vampire is quicker than a whip, tossing a purse onto the concrete and slamming his door shut. The contents spill out of the purse because he hasn’t bothered to close it: chapstick, a pack of gum, various IDs and brightly packaged condoms ‘ribbed for her pleasure.’
Sleazebag.
The purple-colored veteran Aux ID in the discarded pile catches his attention, but Cassian doesn't give away his recognition.
“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks, cocking one brow up.
The hallway is open-air, but it does nothing to reduce the scent of chain-smoked cigarettes and strong alcohol coming off of the female.
The drop-dead gorgeous female.
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hi!! I know you said soul exchanges weren't necessary for requests, but I'm more than willing to give mine up for this one because it's a universe I adore
superhero!ateez meeting reader. who or what the reader is? entirely up to you 👀👀👀 (the possibilities are endless omg)
((also plz I've been binging all of your writing because it's just so amazing. the cute stuff just gives me lil butterflies and the fuzzies))
yELLS you’re the sweetest actually 🫶🏻 trying to balance all of my stuff & writing, but hopefully what I have out isn’t the last of the butterflies 🦋 & fuzzies I’ll be giving you 🥰 also this is such a good AU idea??? OMG not me spending forever thinking about their powers 🫣 tried not to just drop them directly into famous heroes’ roles… but Yunho HAD to be spiderman & I will not apologize 😤😝 also, I’d be down to do a part 2 for sure hehe
Warnings: some gun/minor violence/death references, some blood, suggestive comment(s), some pain/peril for Reader, long post lol
Meeting Superhero!Ateez
Hongjoong
Magic was not something to be tarried with. It was not a substance one could bend to their will, it was an art and a fickle one at that.
No one understood that better than a person who wasn’t meant to have it in the first place. He hadn’t been tricked into selling his soul, lost himself in some foolish, evil deal, no. Oh, no.
He’d gone and died.
It had felt just like blacking out when he’d been hit, coming to like the collision was barely beyond a concussion. But the world wasn’t the world when Hongjoong awoke.
There was no sun, no plants, only twisted, dead roots, and the people passing by him little more than glowing wraiths, some looking more human than others. His first reaction was to hold his hands before his eyes, exhaling in relief at the sight of their flesh. Except it felt like his ribcage had shrunk; he was unable to get as much air in or out as usual, every fight for air shallowed.
“What’s happening? Where am I?”
“This is the Underworld,” a low voice replied from behind him, sending him shooting up to his feet and turning to face its owner.
A woman perhaps twice his age, one draped in loose black veils falling around the tight shadowy raiment she wore. Her hair like emerald flame wreathing an expression of dark curiosity, like Hongjoong were a bug she hadn’t decided if she was annoyed by.
He was confused, but not afraid. “Well, I want out. There was so much I was in the middle of out there. I can’t lose it all in some accident. I can barely breathe down here!”
The woman chuckled deeply. “Getting sent back is no simple task. We do not idly accept mistakes.”
“Isn’t there something I can do?” Hongjoong urged, stepping forward and gazing into the woman’s blazing green eyes.
“You will never be fully living again. To return is to become a conduit of the Underworld.”
“Will I be a ghost?”
“No, but your humanity will never fully be restored. Death’s connection is inescapable. A part of you will forever be tied to us. Is this what you wish?”
Hongjoong had a career up there. Friends who weren’t ghosts. A hard drive full of projects. A distinct lack of green flame littering the ground. Music. Fashion. Whatever life he could have. Breath in his lungs. The words escaped his shallow chest so quickly he barely realized he’d spoken them. “Yes, it is.”
The deal was sealed willingly and the Underworld faded away, the final sight in Hongjoong’s eyes those points of green burning into his soul.
~
Nothing seemed different when breath rushed fully back into his heaving lungs or when he crawled from the wreckage of his car. His feet still hit solid ground as he walked back to his apartment under the night sky.
And the next day when he was yanked into an alley by two dark figures, his heart sure beat. And when they, speaking of him being the one they were sent for, raised knives, surely it was a one-way ticket out of his second life. Maybe he’d be like a cat, get nine…
All of the stress, every endorphin pumped through Hongjoong’s newly-reanimated body, dropped from him like sweat and arced out as green flame.
The cloaked assailants recoiled at the flame, cursed as glowing forms rose from it. Two of them little more than skeletons, one of them much more humanoid. More like the wraiths Hongjoong saw. More like the Emerald Lady herself. He couldn't help recoiling himself, glancing down again at his hands in disbelief. That was of his making?
The duo of skeletons lashed out first, parrying dagger with sword. You sealed the deal, slamming the butt of your polearm down upon the concrete and sending cracks erupting across the charcoal grey. Beneath their staggered feet, a fissure opened up, sending the men plummeting to some unknown doom.
And with that, you turned to Hongjoong, head cocked with interest. "You're going to be hunted from now on."
He took a deep breath, balled his hands into fists. "What did she do to me?"
"Why do you think she let you go so easily? You're the next Crane."
Tempting was it to look away from the burning glow of your eyes, so similar to the ones who bore him half-escape. Hongjoong wasn't the sort to give in, though. "What does that mean?"
"You were never meant to come to the Underworld, even witness it. Whatever your memories tell you, that was no ordinary accident you were in."
Seonghwa
When you first saw him, sparks flew. Literally.
You’d been focused on the mission at hand, hovering above what you hoped was the main jet for infiltration when a burst of the most beautiful glittering energy sparked before you, wavering like the Aurora Borealis at the edges as it struck open the adjacent craft. It was enough to shake you from the crosshairs haze of disabling anything, stealing your gaze over to the sweeping flight of a black-haired man in a dashing caped suit of violet and silver.
Stories of such a man had reached your ears. “You’re the one they call Cosmos, aren’t you?” You called, mirroring the smile that rose to his lips.
He nodded. “And you must be Depth Charge.”
“I will have you know that that was not my first choice,” you replied as you sent a pulse echoing through the jet’s steel, “or my choice at all. It barely makes sense. I go up, not down.”
Cosmos chuckled at that. His eyes sparkled like the stars in his little energy burst trick, giving him an air of innocence despite his trim figure, the way he sailed through the sky in that l roguish suit. Maybe this was going to be a fun fight after all.
He swerved narrowly past a barrage of jet-fire. “Maybe we should talk when we’re not, you know, attempting to prevent the theft of confidential technology?”
"You're no fun," you mock-scoffed, smirking and boosting yourself to the next jet with a pulse of energy.
"And you're not the one getting shot at!" He fired back, blasting more crackling, star-studded energy at the next barrage before ducking below the shrapnel.
"Yeah, yeah, just come back me up, I see our guy," you urged him, crawling to the top of the jet and focusing the waves you felt into a bladelike space.
The hole had just been cut open when Cosmos swooped in next to you. He was somehow taller than you'd pictured once you saw him up close, serious expression completely changing his bearing. You studied his profile for a few seconds before sliding in through your entry hole legs first. Boots hitting hard floor with a wince-inducing jolt up your ankles, you readied another sonic blade and crept closer to the cockpit. Some shuffling at your back told you Cosmos followed close behind.
Two goons rose from their seats at the sight of you, landing a couple of punches to both of you and even managing to knock you over before you sent their inertia right back at them, slamming them against the wall as you held your surely-bruised jaw. For all his spark, Cosmos held his own in hand-to-hand combat. Well, relatively speaking. He ended up knocking his opponent out with a surprising roundhouse kick. You smiled again, giving a shake of your head.
"What?"
"Extra," you chuckled.
"I'll take that as a compliment," he replied, extending an arm to the cockpit door, "would you like to do the honors?"
"Thank you, my good man," you humored him, peeling open the door to meet with a faceful of gun barrels.
"I would stay back if I were you," the head thief remarked. Geez, was the guy reading an old movie script?
"I would stand down, actually, unless you'd like to sail through a hole torn in space," Cosmos told him, standing firm.
Your jaw dropped as you turned to face him. "You can do that?"
He gave you an urgent look.
"Sorry."
"You wouldn't risk letting this device go any more than I would," your enemy sneered, tugging his tie into place.
"I wouldn't have to. That's kind of the thing with being able to manipulate gravity. And yes, I can do that."
With that, he raised a hand and the jet flipped upside down. No, wait, you flipped upside down, drifting into the air against your own volition and flailing fecklessly for a few flaps before firing off a balancing pulse. The case drifted loosely in the air, into the hands of one of the gunners, and then right back out as Cosmos summoned it forth. The men opened fire instantly, bullets drifting slowly into air filling with faint whisps of smoke. Both of you banked hard left to dodge the fire, grunting as you hit the wall hard, but Cosmos stood firm again, offering you his hand. Taking it, you felt yourself hurtling through the air, a familiar sensation as speed returned, then the harsh blasts of wind upon leaving the hull.
"Sorry I stole your target," he told you as he drifted and you blasted away, gazes turning from the final jet's descent.
"Stole it?" You snorted, giving him a smile. "I believe that's called helping me. I'm not exactly in this for the brownie button."
"Oh, yeah, what was it again? For fun, right?"
"Something like that," you agreed.
"By the way, if we're going to be working together, we better know each other's names. Real names. My name is Seonghwa." And there were those stars again, lighting up his dark eyes in a manner far too on the nose for his hero name.
Heart fluttering, you gave him your name.
Yunho
Fortunate. That’s how many people described living in a city with a guardian. Hopeful, like if they were to get into trouble, that very man could, in the most literal sense, swoop in and rescue them. It was like magic how he appeared at the scene of wrongdoings- it only added to the feeling that he could see all that occurred through the hustle and bustle of the proverbial concrete jungle.
For Yunho, it was a lot of pressure. Phrases like the man, the myth, the legend hit a little too close to home. What if he were to let someone down? What if one day the mask got yanked off and all everyone saw was a fresh college graduate semi-desperately searching for a job to apply his major to? He didn’t always feel like a hero, just like a man doing his best to help out.
A man with wishes and dreams like any other. Oftentimes that wish was simply for life to be normal again. Like, he had been granted this amazing opportunity and yet it still fell like a burden across his heart sometimes. Especially when he looked at you.
You were his next door neighbor, the occupant of the apartment adjacent to his. Some days you both would be out on your balconies at the same time just staring out at city lights with your favorite drink in hand and you’d glance across the way and smile at each other. Start a little conversation. What do you think those people across the way are doing? Man, you wouldn’t believe this customer at work today. Whatcha got there, the usual?
It dawned on Yunho sometimes in some poetic delusion that you two took and occupied identical spaces, yet they would be wholly unknown to the other. Made reflections of someone still learned. It made him want to clean his apartment, frankly.
It put things into perspective about his powers, too. One time his spidey sense went off and he told you to step back, only for a bird poo to land exactly where your head would have been. As a jest you’d called him your hero, but the jolt that sent through his heart was anything but funny. Fuel, that’s what it was. Motivation to be the man, the myth, the legend, even in the smallest way.
~
The sense rang through his body, slid down his spine, mere seconds before the cry for help. Yunho would have recognized that voice anywhere.
As he launched a web out and swung closer to the sound, his heart pounded. It had never been anyone he knew before. It wasn’t supposed to be someone he knew. But it was you. Sailing between buildings, he stuck to the top of the nearest one, gazing down at the man before you and narrowing his eyes at his wild gestures. Without warning, though, he was grabbing you, pinning you to the wall and reaching a hand-
Thwip! A hand that was pinned to his side before it could even reach a weapon, touch you again. Swinging out from his viewpoint corner, Yunho slammed into the creep with his feet, kicking him off of you. In retaliation, he landed a punch with his good hand.
“What is this,” Yunho lowered his voice lest you recognize it as your neighbor’s, “‘I can take you with one hand tied behind my back’?”
Before the man could reply Yunho tied him down again, not wanting to stoop any closer to his level of brutality.
“I think I’ll have a word with the police on you. Heard they were investigating a bunch of abductions. It’s about time they got some practice in.”
Footsteps rang out as you ran to his side. “Spiderman! Thank you! I had no idea if anyone would hear me, but I should have known!”
“Hear you? I could feel you,” he replied, “well, er, that is, I… I have this, you know, danger sense and I-”
“Hey, it’s ok. I get it,” you said, wrapping your arms around him in a quick side hug, “I know you’re nothing like that guy. Your partner’s lucky to have a guy like you.”
“Well,” Yunho’s voice lowered even more as your eyes peered into his masked ones, as if you could see him, “I don’t actually have one. No one’s really into, uh, yeah.”
“Well, then, can I do this?” With two fingers, you motioned near the edge of his mask, sliding up its corner.
Yunho inhaled, eyes widening beneath their white affects. “Sure.”
Your fingers felt cool when they brushed the edges of his skin, staying true to their word as they peeled up the tiniest section of his mask. Leaning in, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. It took everything in Yunho not to giggle then and there.
“Thank you again,” you breathed as you leaned back.
“No problem,” Yunho replied, “need a walk back home?”
You put a hand on your hip. “Since when does Spiderman walk?”
Chuckling, he shrugged. “Thought offering a swing might scare you.”
You smiled. “I’d be down.”
“Alright, then, hold on tight and name the address.”
Yeosang
It was just another day on the streets of Seoul. The day's bustle had taken its toll on the sidewalk, crowding the strip with bodies and voices. All Yeosang wanted was to get out of there. No sooner had that thought occurred, though, was he reflexively granted that wish: one of the multitudinous passersby careened sideways into him, and in his startlement he’d disappeared entirely.
Cursing internally, he searched for witnesses, sighing with relief at the simple alley he’d unthinkingly sent himself to. Premature relief, for as he turned to leave said alley, there you were standing as if frozen in a bend over a trash can, eyes wide as saucers. He felt his own eyes reflexively widen, resisting every impulse to disappear again and leave you just wondering if you’d gone crazy, never to see him again in a city that large.
A smile spread across your face. “That was awesome! Dude, you just teleported!”
“No, I didn’t,” he deadpanned, taking a few steps toward the alley opening.
“Ok, gaslighter.”
Yeosang stopped dead in his tracks, turned to fix an eye upon you again, sighed. “You understand what a big secret you just witnessed?”
Straightening, you shot him a finger gun. “So you did teleport?”
“Yes, I did. I know how this works,” Yeosang answered, “what will it take for you to keep quiet?”
“Are you a superhero?” You asked, skipping over a scattering of alley trash to move to his side.
“I-” Yeosang sighed. Most days he felt more cursed than heroic. Burdened with secrecy and threats to all who stood for differences, deviations of any kind. But a mutation like his? Inherently greater safety than most challengers to Seoul folk. Dodging the proverbial bullet. He’d managed to teleport a woman who jumped off a building and have a conversation with her. Weeks later. She saw him again, said she considered him her hero. Humbling to say the least. After the long pause, he swallowed. “I try.”
“That’s so cool! What you need is a sidekick.”
“I’m not exactly spiderman,” he replied sheepishly.
Your eyes darted briefly away, then back to his. “Home base?”
“I mean, I live somewhere already, but-”
“No, no,” you cut him off, waving a hand, “I mean like a secret hideout where you can conduct your operations and keep your research with your…administrative assistant.”
“Ok,” Yeosang chuckled, “that’s a pretty clever workaround for ‘sidekick’. But you have to realize people like me aren’t exactly caped crusaders. It’s not an organized thing, I don’t have a danger sense, I just…help where I can.”
At that, you nodded, eager expression finally sobering a bit. “I know. I had a friend whose family attacked him over his powers. He barely made it out of there. I don’t even know where he is now. I guess I just want a better face for you guys. Maybe I just want to make a hero.”
Oh. Yeosang was not expecting that. His eyes widened, softened, blinked. “It’s a nice thought, but maybe let’s start small.” A part of him couldn’t believe he was even implying an agreement, but he’d been alone for so long. Alone wanting to believe someday the world would change.
“Like some cameras? A red-string sort of situation on local crime? Bullet dodge training?”
“I, uh, I think I’ve got the last one covered,” Yeosang replied, putting his hands in his pockets and finally shuffling toward the alley horizon, squinting as he crossed the sun’s threshold.
“You’ve been in a shootout?” You gasped, following him with a hand out over your wide eyes.
“Shh,” he hushed you, glancing back and forth at the thankfully empty street, “I told you! I try to help where I can. Even if it means making myself a target. I’m much harder to hit than the usual robbery victim.”
“This is so cool. What’s your name, by the way?”
“Yeosang.”
You gave him your name, glanced back at him from the peripheries of his vision. “They ever give you a nickname?”
“They usually just say I’m like trying to hit a ghost.”
“Ghost,” you murmured, “that could work.”
“Maybe it could,” Yeosang murmured back, smiling faintly into your wide grin, “maybe.”
San
Most of the other workers thought you were too young. You looked more the age of the test subjects, they said, despite you denying any presence of the mutagens. All you wanted was to understand them, just like anybody else. After all, harnessing the genetic component that allowed adaptation that fast had both amazing and terrifying implications for humanity. Implications not lost on the subjects themselves. It was for that reason that you were assigned to the one dubbed safest for beginners.
He was a young man about your age, a man with well-sculpted features and a contagious smile-on the rare occasion you got to see it. It wasn’t a happy life, after all, in a laboratory quarters, even if they did “simulate comfort”. It was a lie and everyone knew it- those were no apartments. They were cells. It was no way to live, and there you were working there and contributing to it.
Well, sort of. “Ok, I know they say no pins in the walls, but I keep hearing how the guy who likes to give himself bear claws has practically scratched the entire things off his room, so seems a bit hypocritical. I got your old Day6 poster,” you told your subject, holding up a few pushpins in one hand and his poster in the other.
“Aren’t you going to get in trouble?” San asked, grin emphasizing his charming dimples.
“If they fire me, they lose the latest honors geneticist, so I don’t think they want to risk it over a poster.”
“Good point,” he conceded, accepting your gift and crossing the room to pin it on the wall nearest his bed one corner at a time.
His motions were careful, calculated- far less erratic than many of the other subjects’. Subjects. You kept using that word. Dehumanizing. Was that the end goal?
“Alright, what do you think?”
San’s voice cut through your thoughts, directing your attention to the band now displayed upon his wall. One small addition and the room had that much more personality. That much more San.
You smiled. “I like it.”
He nodded toward all the guys in the picture. “Who’s your favorite?”
“I dunno,” you mused, pointing, “that one’s pretty handsome.”
“Young K? Oh, everyone tells me I look like him,” San grins.
“No, they don’t!” You tease. “You would’ve just said that about anyone I called handsome!”
“Maybe,” he shrugged, “gotta have some fun before my daily blood sample, huh?”
Smiling sadly, you just nodded, stepping back to take up your syringe tray from where you’d set it on his bookshelf.
~
Shrill warnings echoed throughout every corner of the alternately dimming and brightening laboratory, lights flashing their own alarm as your feet struck the smooth, institutional stained concrete. There’d been a containment breach, an immediate interruption to your protein synthesis as battle stations rang.
Restrain. That was the order. As if you could do anything against a guy with bear claws or venomous barbs or someone with the agility of a cheetah. That was why your company wanted the source so badly- super soldiers and all that. Always soldiers. Never curing wounds. Never jellyfish immortality. None of the subjects had thought of that one, either, as far as you knew, but then you’d yet to witness anyone using the mutagen’s power.
What could you do? There was a taser in your pocket, a small standard-issue you’d received in case of this very unlikely scenario. Restrain was about the only chance you had, but the thought of running into the breach barely crossed your mind amidst the chaos of scrambling compatriots and banging doors as the mass escape began.
All you could think of was reaching Quarters 314. San’s room. It was insane, it was stupid, it was the absolute irrevocable death of your career there- but then again, so would all the subjects escaping be.
If a bunch of the most powerful mutants you housed were escaping already, you wanted San to have freedom. Every cent you had, you’d bet that he could walk back out onto the streets and never hurt a single soul. That’s why they gave him to you in the first place- he was complacent. Kind.
304. The moment the door entered the haze of your vision, you slammed your key card on the lock sensor pad and tumbled in.
San was hunched near the doorway. “What’s going on, did someone get hurt?”
“They’re escaping. All the strongest ones,” pausing for a heartbeat, you reconsidered your words, thought about how every man and woman in the building had the same skills, “well, all the fighters. Come on.”
His eyes, shining as ever, widened. “Are we evacuating?”
“No,” you shook your head, grabbing his hand, “you’re leaving.”
“I don’t understand.”
“This might be your one chance to get back out there and live. I’ve been coming in here every day for weeks. You don’t deserve to live in a cell. As badly as I wanna know how you work, this isn’t a life for anyone. Do you want out?” You asked, tone firm despite your frantic heart, searching his eyes.
San nodded. “Ok. Thank you. I can get us out.”
You frowned. “Us?”
“If this is all on the cameras you stick everywhere, they won’t be your biggest fans anymore.”
“Good point. Are you going to…” You trailed off, unsure how to broach the subject.
He hummed in response, those soft eyes you’d seen every day hardening like never before and that sharp jaw setting. He squared…braced himself.
“You don’t like doing it, do you?” The question came out of your mouth before it had fully entered your brain, but to your relief he didn’t look annoyed.
“Depends on what it is. You haven’t seen it, have you?”
You shook your head.
“Well, sorry this is your first time,” San said, and with that, his shoulders squared again, his head falling as if struck down.
Subconsciously, you reached out hands at his pained expression, but what could you do? It was all inside him.
At least at first. Soon, the slick fabric of his moisture-wicking regulation top was splitting, bursts of blood spraying as new bone and tissue arose, tendrils that solidified into sharp flesh-toned blades before bursting into feathers. Tears fell from San’s eyes as he shakily rose back to his feet. He’d just grown wings.
And as if all that blood and tissue and the sheer amount of development occurring over mere seconds was little more than a strenuous workout, he wiped his brow with his left hand and extended his right.
“Alright, let’s get out of here.”
Mingi
Sometimes he wondered why he was chosen.
What it was about him that another race from a different planet would think he had what it took to bear and protect one of their greatest treasures? He’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe the right place. The demand had been simple- keep it safe until others arrive for it.
The crash had happened when he was home, a sound so deafening it was like the world was ending. Shaking as he was, Mingi had run outside into the rush of the night wind, out along the smoke trail in the woods to see if whatever catastrophe had had survivors, if victims. And survivors there were- ones a bit odd-looking. Almost human save for the violet hue of their skin, the pointed tips of their ears, the vertical slits of eyelids revealed when the woman’s visor fell from across her eyes. Their skin felt different, too, as Mingi pulled them from beneath crushed metal and fire, firm and with smoothness gently interrupted by texture he could only describe as like small scales.
They didn’t look happy with him, but still accepted his help stumbling between trees and back into his home. They understood bandages, accepted beds. Swore Mingi to secrecy even as they thanked him days later. Be it technology or some uncanny occasion, they could speak to him. They could understand.
The mission they’d set out on was one of guardianship; the relic, something of myth, needed new housing and a new bearer.
“The one worthy will be selected,” the man told him in his deep, faintly accented hiss of a voice.
It was an imposition, sure. But how often did aliens land near one’s property guarding a weapon of legend? Mingi’s whole week had felt like a dream, and until he woke up the least he could do was deepen its lucidity.
“Can I see it?” He asked, peering up earnestly into their snakelike eyes from above the intricately carven and paneled box of steel with the most incredible iridescent shine he’d ever seen. Its contents had to be even more beautiful, right?
They watched, glanced down at the way his hands hovered reverently, stared back into his eyes.
“You are not of deceitful mind,” the woman replied.
“It is not out of depth that he welcomed strangers into his home,” the man shot back.
“No, it was out of kindness,” the woman insisted, waving a hand over the box, “as a reward, you may look upon the Heart of Steel.”
Gingerly, she traced some of the lines that Mingi had barely noticed with the tips of her long fingers, reaching beneath the bottom and holding her hands there until the top of the box simply floated a foot or two above the remainder, held by some microcosm gravity that drew a breath of awe from Mingi. Reflexively his fingers stretched toward the contents of the box, a smooth metal teardrop shape crafted from that same resplendent material.
Heat radiated from its small surface the moment he moved closer, sending him drawing back, but like a magnet it shot after him and into his hand.
“I’m sorry,” he said, glancing at both of the beings who still hadn’t offered him names, “I swear I’m not doing this!”
“No,” the woman shook her head, snake-eyes wide, “you are being chosen.”
~
“And you expect me to believe this why?” You asked him, brow arched.
“Because,” Mingi put up his hands in defense, eyes scanning your form, “I didn’t even want to touch it! Why would I steal this thing I know nothing about?”
“Delskvlln was right. Not a deep thinker,” you commented.
“See? I know him! They ended up telling me their names! His wife was…er…Syssmerlyss? I am so sorry if I’m not pronouncing it correctly.”
“Well, the accent needs work, but I suppose Syssmerlyss was right- you have a certain kindness about you.” You took two steps closer to him, half-tapping, half-pushing him on the shoulder twice in a gesture that probably didn’t fully translate. “Come on, then, we have training to do.”
“Well,” he scratched at the back of his neck sheepishly, “sometimes the suit doesn't cooperate, but I think I’m starting to get pretty good with the gravity swords.”
“It gave you the swords?”
“Heh, uh…yeah?”
Wooyoung
It was hard sometimes, using such abilities for good. Had he so chosen, Jung Wooyoung could have become a world leader, a dictator even. But that thought terrified him. The pressure sounded unbearable. No fun, either, not that former friends hadn’t tried to convince him countless times to use his gifts for that, too. He preferred the traditional methods of seduction, were he to desire employing any at all.
Accessing minds was Wooyoung’s least favorite skill, in fact. Seeing and hearing thoughts was crushing, uncomfortable, an unfair dominance. Bouncing twice as high as a person should be able to with a force field, though? Making things levitate out of people’s hands? Bee’s knees.
He'd been a rogue in the city, just a wanderer who did what he could to help others when he wasn’t working. Flinging the gun out of an armed robber’s hand, blocking bullets with force fields, even fighting back when he had to.
They just didn’t learn. He couldn’t help scoffing a bit and teasing them when they fired at him.
“Now, gentleman, isn’t this a bit insulting?” He’d ask, casually flipping a hand as the bullets ricocheted and buried themselves harmlessly into walls. “And besides, I don’t want to hurt you. I just think this doesn’t belong to you.”
Cue him summoning the stolen money or goods right from their indignant hands and, eventually, back to the rightful owner. After convincing them all to stand still with their hands in the air, of course.
There had just begun whispers of his presence, trepidation at the prospect of an illegal smuggle or a robbery for the first time, a name for him emerging when he faced the first true opposition.
“So, you’re the Vigilante everyone’s talking about, are you?”
“Is that what they call me?” Wooyoung shot back.
“Guess you aren’t in it for the fame,” you snickered, stepping further from the shadows of the doorway, a tube-shaped device Wooyoung didn’t recognize in your hand.
“What do you want with me?” He asked, glancing at it and crossing his arms.
“Ideally, you to get out of the way,” you replied, flicking something on the device and sending it unfolding with large cracks, climbing up your forearm like a mechanical caterpillar and glowing at the tip once your hand was completely enveloped.
“Out of the way of wh-” He didn’t have time to complete his sentence before a bolt of energy arced his way, his instincts barely kicking in in time for him to launch away from it.
Putting up a force field, he stood his ground, staring at you with new interest. “You’re part of the weapons racket, aren’t you?”
“A plus, genius,” you replied, smug satisfaction glinting in your eyes, “the city isn’t going to need you much longer.”
“You’re right,” he said, “because I’m about to kick your ass.”
Another bolt of purple energy came at him, shattering the faint glow of his field. Wooyoung’s jaw dropped, but he quickly righted it as he moved closer. It felt like his whole body clenched as his energy focused on peeling the device off. You winced in pain and jumped back as the gun fired an erratic shot that rained chunks of ceiling down behind Wooyoung’s back, sending a little lightning strike of guilt across his heart, but he kept at it, sending each piece yanked off to your side to fortify the restraints he was making. You struggled, panting and tugging as he worked, kicking aside his work and scrambling toward a panel on the wall. With each button you pressed, Wooyoung slid your feet out from under you, but in the end he heard the dreaded activation beep. The look you turned and shot him was a mix of defiance and resignation that shook him to his core and froze him to the spot. He didn’t even stop you as you ran away, just slid the nearest couple pieces of your contraption towards himself, grabbed them, and made his own flight out before the place blew.
Shielding himself from the heat and sound, he knelt and examined the scraps. Luck was on his side, it seemed; he’d gotten the chunk bearing manufacturer and serial number info. For the first time in his life, Wooyoung wasn’t going to just deflect and run- he was going to chase you down.
Jongho
It was cloudy. It was almost always cloudy. Not exactly ideal conditions for your lot, but what were you going to do? Couldn't exactly bottle sunshine, as they said.
Not that they weren't probably trying. Scientists had gone positively psycho in your city, the hottest trend being harnessing the elements. Success rate? You, at least. It wasn't supposed to be you. Maybe not anyone, for that matter, but the spores ended up in your body regardless. You'd heard that they were supposed to be used or they'd take over, but the call to do so was strong regardless.
Trees planted on the sidewalk suddenly bloomed and flourished. Green sprouted in odd hosts within the concrete jungle. Flowers out of sidewalks and the like. Anything to combat what the rest of humanity was doing, right?
That was all it had been until someone saw you. An older man, betrayingly grandfatherly, began a mild conversation that quickly deepened, progressed to him requesting your help in an investigation on the very place that exposed you to their research.
"Why me? I barely spent any time there. I wasn't the test subject, it was an accident!" Never had you realized you were afraid to return until it was asked of you. The infection was hell until it stuck, pain all over your body like you'd never known, violent reactions as your body writhed and tried again and again to reject the foreign invasion.
Then poof, there you were as the city's chlorophyll ninja.
"Because you have been inside. You've visited once, why not again? They'll never suspect a thing, and if they do, you're armed with something much greater than what I got."
"Oh," you raised a brow, "so this is personal?"
"It's beyond that," the main replied quickly, gaze darting from yours, "but yes. I'm getting older. This sort of mission is getting more difficult. But more than anything they would recognize me in a heartbeat, and I didn't exactly quit on good terms."
"I'm not in this fight. I didn't ask for any of this," you repeated, "and now you want me to go in there blind and alone? Maybe I don't want to be your recon pawn."
The old man waved a hand, the one that wasn't gloved. "You wouldn't be alone, poor dear. You think you're the only escaped lab rat? I used to think I was." Grabbing the hem of his pant leg, he pulled it up to reveal a very elaborate cybernetic prosthesis. "Both are different. But no, I've kept tabs on the place for a long time. Found another much like you."
With that, he motioned to the doorway with his free hand. Guess you could figure out why the other was covered. As your gaze traced the man's one organic limb, your eyes fell to the doorway, where a young man about your age stepped out.
His appearance was pretty innocuous. His hair was short and dark, his expression stony but his features kind. His broad shoulders were draped with a long coat that swayed near the base of his boots, and beneath that he wore a dark turtleneck and jeans.
"How do you do, Neo?" You quipped as your eyes scanned his form.
To your great surprise, that 'mission go' look on his face melted rapidly into a wide grin, a chuckle. Guy had a nice smile.
"It's Jongho. That was good, though." He nodded down toward you. "Was the green intentional?"
You yourself glanced down at your outfit, and you'd be darned. You were wearing green. Apparently this Jongho fellow knew more about you than you did of him. You were surprised he didn't comment on the potted plant necklace you'd gotten from Etsy- the one you'd nicknamed 'ammo'.
"No, but I guess fate has a sense of humor. Do you have beef with FTR Labs too?"
Jongho nodded. "They have my brother."
At that, your heart dropped. Just by the man's tone of voice you could tell he was trying to be brave, but he didn't want to go back to FTR any more than you did. Want, no. Need? Yes. Maybe the old man was right- maybe they were taking their experiments too far. You hadn't even seen what they'd done to Jongho yet. If it had been a fight for his body, too, let alone his brother's.
"Alright," you nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets, "I'll go with you. Do you have a plan?"
"Of course. My main goal is to disrupt their comms first."
"Classic. How do you propose we do that?"
"I figured a little lightning would do the trick."
"Excuse me?"
Wordlessly, Jongho stared at you, his eyes almost glazing over as gusts of wind rolled through the room and clouds drifted over his head, spattering his black-clad shoulders with tiny droplets of rain. Electricity arced between two of the clouds, light flashing like tiny, branched white roots as it traveled down his cheek, through his arm and into his hand as if illuminating his very veins. Harnessing the elements.
Nothing could have stopped your jaw from dropping, but as you righted yourself, you couldn't help smiling with a strange rush of anticipation. "Hey, if you're the one that's been keeping it so cloudy these days, can you at least rain a little on my friends?" And with that, you let ammo grow out, engulfing your upper body with the comforting hug of leafy vines.
"Kids," the old man shook his head, "always showing off."
#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#san#mingi#wooyoung#jongho#ateez x gender neutral reader#gender neutral reader#superhero AU#ask#oblivimin#requested#hope you like this 😘
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