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flowerxbunnie · 6 months

Note

can you pls pls write about shy reader she and chris are a recent couple and one day he founds out that she likes dirty talk and tries that with her

Dirty Secret

Chris x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUTTYYY smut, lots of dirty talk, degradation/praise

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

Tags: @lustfulslxt

Chris’s POV

I can’t wipe the dumb smile off my face as I peek at Y/n’s nightstand, multiple tubes of chapstick covering the surface along with notebooks, pens, scrunchies, and lots of half empty water bottles. Her personality shows in her room so clearly, methodic but carefree.

These past four months have made me nothing but happy. We’ve done a good job at keeping our relationship out of the public eye after agreeing she didn’t want to handle any kickback from my fans yet. I hate that I can’t show her off, but it’s for the best, at least at this point.

I roam around her room with no ultimate goal, just waiting for her to get back from her nail appointment and I got bored. I scan her makeup table, brushes and random products strewn about as evidence that she’d been here hours before. Her jackets and hats hang on a hook behind her door and I run my fingers across the different fabrics, moving closer to inhale the vanilla scent that floods my mind with images of her. Fairly lights twinkle above her bed, something I’ve definitely taken notice of during all our nights tangled in her sheets.

I move to her bookshelf and look at all the spines of her books, some neatly lined up and some thrown haphazardly into piles. There’s collectible figures of the things she likes, crystals, and random little trinkets littering the shelves. I can’t help but reach out and touch the book that’s lying on the shelf at my eye level, running my fingers along all the multicolored sticky notes she’s placed into her favorite pages.

I guess it was a little too close to the edge, because even my light touch caused it to topple over and fall open, landing face down on the carpet below. I breathe out a curse and lean down to pick it up and put it exactly how I found it. I don’t want Y/n to think I’ve been snooping, because I haven’t. I’m just admiring all the little things that make her room feel like home to her.

I close the book and bring it back up to the shelf, turning it around to glance at the cover. Priest by Sierra Simone. I know a lot about Y/n already, but I didn’t know she was into religion. Sounds like a biography from the summary on the back. Something about a priest breaking their vow of celibacy and needing to confess. My interest is growing, I didn’t think she would enjoy this kind of book, maybe I should take a peek?

I pick the first sticky note my fingers brush across, knowing Y/n highlighted it for a reason. An audible gasp falls out of my mouth as a skim across the words on the page.

“Stay the fuck still, or I’m going to come before I want to, and if that happens, then I will take you over my knee and spank your ass until you learn how to listen.”

“What the fuck?” I question out loud.

I flip through multiple pages, each sticky note highlighting incredibly filthy words. It’s a fucking sex book. My cheeks burn at the thought of her reading these while she’s alone in her room, wondering what she looks like as she’s turning the pages and writhing with anticipation. I grab onto a pink sticky note and pull on it, flipping it to the page and reading what she had highlighted.

“But I won’t lie. It makes me hard as fuck knowing that I was the first man to taste you.”

This sticky note has her own handwriting smeared across it. I squint to make out the words.

If Chris would have said that to me…

Ouch, I think?

I’m not a vanilla guy by any means, but I’m not the weird fuck from 50 Shades of Grey either. I think our sex life is great, it’s more than enough to keep me satisfied. We’ve made love in the car, fucked while she was bent over her dining room table, stolen kisses in restaurant bathrooms after we snuck away from our friends. It’s all been so exciting to me, and even better because it’s with her.

I continue flying through the pages, my eyes widening at every line she made a point to come back to. This dude talks so much while he’s fucking this chick.

“No, don’t touch yourself, sweetheart. We’re going to get there together.”

Remind Chris to be more vocal!

It all clicks in my bird brain. I’m a fucking idiot. She’s highlighted almost all dialogue. She wants me to talk more during sex. I’ll admit, I’m not the best at speaking my mind while she’s bouncing on me or sprawled out below me. But why hasn’t she told me yet? I hope she hasn’t been disappointed with how things have been going.

I put the book back and angle it as best as I can remember, moving to lay down on top of her comforter. I stretch my back out and throw my arms behind my head, thinking about what I’m going to do when she gets home.

Y/n’s POV

I take my keys out of the door and lock it behind me, smiling as I see Chris’s sneakers sitting on the shoe rack in my entryway. My nails took way longer than I expected and I’m just so excited to be able to waste the rest of my day away with him. I make my way down the hall after placing my shoes next to his and creep into my bedroom, sprinting and jumping to lay beside Chris who’s stretched across my bed.

“Hiiii baby, I missed youuu!” I singsong before pressing a kiss against his stubbly cheek.

“Mmm, missed you more.” he mumbles into my neck as he turns and molds his body into mine.

His arms encircle me and the smell of his cologne floods my senses, washing a wave of comfort over me. I could lay like this forever.

“Let’s see the nails,” he says as he breaks away from me, suddenly sitting up and grabbing my hands.

I sit up beside him and watch as his large hands hold my own, moving my fingers around and watching the duo chrome polish shift colors in the light. His smile spreads from ear to ear as he takes notice of the “C” I asked the nail tech to paint onto my ring finger.

“Aren’t they so cute??” I squeal, so ecstatic at the way they turned out.

“So cute,” he coos, bringing them to his lips to place a tender kiss on each finger. “I think they’d look even cuter wrapped around my cock.” He says in a low growl as he brings my hand down to his lap, shoving my palm onto the fabric of his sweatpants.

I feel his erection through the layers of clothing, rock hard and throbbing. I can’t help but gasp at his words, I’ve never heard him speak like this before. I watch as his pupils dilate, the black overtaking the blue of his iris as he flickers his eyes to my lips.

“Nothing to say, sweetheart?” He asks almost in a belittling tone.

“N-no I just.. I’ve never heard you say something like that,” I squeak out as he pushes my hand down with more force.

“What, you don’t like it?” He says with a smirk.

“I don’t know.. I th-think so..” I stammer.

“When were you gonna tell me, hm? Such an innocent girl reading such filthy books. Does it turn you on?” His hand leaves mine against his hard on and comes up to caress my cheek.

“Huh, what are you talking about?” I spit out at him, my cheeks igniting red with visible embarrassment.

Has he snooped through my room?

“I saw it all, baby. And it’s okay. It’s okay if you need me to tell you how dirty of a girl you are, or how good you make me feel. You have to let me know these things..” he trails off as his thumb brushes against my lip, smearing my peppermint chapstick onto the corner of my mouth.

“I-I’m sorry, Chris. I don’t… I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want you to think I was weird.” I look down, intimidated by his cold gaze, and he tilts my head back up, his eyes serious.

“It’s not weird. Do you touch yourself to those books baby? Reading about a man talking to a woman like that.. does it make you feel good?” He whispers the last sentence and his free hand finds my inner thigh, caressing and warming my skin.

I nod sheepishly, afraid to speak my thoughts out loud to Chris.

“Use your words. Do you ever imagine it’s me saying those things?”

“Y-yes… every single time.” I say as I release a breath.

He groans and pushes my hair behind my ear, inching closer to me and ghosting his lips over my ear. “Such a naughty girl.”

Shivers fall down my spine as he places a kiss onto the sensitive skin between my ear and jaw, his lips lingering and sucking lightly. He slides the hand on my cheek to the back of my neck, lacing his fingers into my hair and pulling down, my neck exposed to him.

“Look at the way your body reacts to me.” He whispers, placing a finger onto my jugular, and I feel it pulsing mercilessly beneath his touch.

He moves his hand to grip around my throat, his thumb and fingers pressed firmly against both pulse points of my neck. My head begins to tingle, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. His lips pepper wet kisses along my jaw, every one of them seeping into my skin and heightened from the constricted blood flow.

“You like that, my hand around your throat? I could squeeze as hard as I want.” he says before constricting his grip.

My core begins to throb hearing his inner thoughts spill from his mouth. My field of vision starts to shrink, a black vignette closing in.

“I’d never hurt you like that, sweetheart. But don’t you like the risk?” He suddenly releases his hold on my throat and all my blood rushes back up into my head. I’m dizzy and completely aroused for him.

I nod furiously before his lips crash against mine, low growls seeping out of his throat and being released into my mouth. He bites and tugs at my bottom lip before pulling away and licking a hot stripe up my chin and back up to my mouth. His lips meet mine again, his mouth open and begging for my tongue. I push it into his mouth only to be dominated, not standing a chance as his hunger grows.

Chris’s hands latch onto my hips, lifting me off the mattress and into his lap, his erection poking at my core. He breaks the kiss and grabs the hem of my shirt, sliding his hands up along with the fabric. I help him get it off, discarding it somewhere in my room. His eyes burn holes into my chest, examining the bralette covering the skin. He grabs the bottom and slides it up, my breasts bouncing as they fall out in front of him. He pushes the excess fabric up to rest on the plate of my chest.

“Fuck, Y/n. If I died with my face in your tits I’d be happy.”

He begins ravaging my breasts, nipping and licking and leaving red and purple marks across the skin. He sucks my nipples while looking so deep into my eyes I start to think he can see the back of my skull. The line of pain and pleasure is completely blurred when he takes one of my swollen nipples between his teeth and tugs on it.

“F-fuck, Chris..” I cry out, bucking my hips instinctively and pressing down onto his throbbing dick.

He lets out a deep moan, gripping my waist and prompting me to stop my movements. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that. I’m so fucking hard it hurts.”

I let out a little grin and begin to rock back and forth again, his head falling against the headboard with his eyes squeezed shut. His cock rubs against my clit through the multiple layers of clothing, but the pressure and friction still causes both of us to pant and moan in unison. He brings his head back up and grips my hips tighter this time, my body unable to move.

“Such a dirty girl. Can’t listen to simple instructions.”

He removes his shirt, a layer of sweat starting to form on his skin, then brings my bra over my head, not bothering with the clasp. He throws it across the room and then lifts my legs to remove my shorts before lifting me up and sliding his sweatpants off, all of which meet the same fate as the rest of the discarded clothes. He presses a hand against my chest, my back hitting the bed as he pushes me down. He comes to hover over me, his eyes dark and half lidded. His knee is pressed inbetween my thighs touching my core with a teasing amount of pressure.

“You’ve already made such a mess, baby..” he says with false concern, referring to the wetness that has seeped through my panties and is touching his skin.

“I’m s-sorry..” I whine, fighting the urge to grind against his knee.

“Don’t apologize, sweet girl. I’ll help you out.”

Chris trails kisses down my chest and stomach, randomly sucking marks into my skin on the way down. He circles his tongue around my navel before licking across it, a trace amount of his warm saliva dripping in. He traces his tongue along the lace hem of my panties, his breath burning against my skin as he grips it with his teeth.

“Please, Chris..” I whine and push him closer to the place I need him most.

His eyes show his grin as he dips his face down, flattening his tongue across the fabric covering my core. He licks and sucks at it, humming and closing his eyes as he spreads my legs apart.

“So sweet,” He whispers as he flicks his tongue up and down.

He hooks his fingers into the band of my panties and pulls, his mouth only disconnecting for a brief second to slide them down my legs before his tongue finally connects with my bare pussy. I arch my back off the bed and cry out as his tongue works against my heat. I’m a mess under him- gripping the sheets, tugging on his brown waves, grabbing my own breasts, doing whatever I can to release some of the tension building up in my body.

“You like the way my tongue feels on you, princess?” He asks in a raspy voice as he wipes his wet mouth with the back of his hand.

“Yes.. fuck please keep going..” I pant, not wanting to lose momentum as my climax has started inching its way to the top.

“How about you do what you need? Use my face and get yourself off.”

He leans back down and presses his tongue against me, holding still as he keeps eye contact. I start circling my hips, feeling the way his tongue remains in place as I grind against it. I grip onto his face and pull it closer, moving my hips down so his nose rubs my clit and his tongue rubs up and down my folds. I buck up and down in complete control and he hums against me to the point I feel like my intestines are vibrating. I speed up and increase the pressure as my stomach begins to ache with a familiar feeling.

I nearly scream, tensing up as my body burns through my climax. He remains still just letting me use him as I ride through it and come down, my grip on his hair relaxing and my body falling slack on the bed.

“Taste yourself baby. Let me show you what you did, all for me.” He whispers against my lips after he climbs to hover over me.

I’m still trying to catch my breath as his lips collide onto mine. I taste my own juices on his tongue, sweet and tangy. He presses his hips down onto my stomach and reminds me of his need, humping forward a few times and moaning into my mouth.

“Now are you gonna bend over or just sit there and look pretty?” He growls as he swiftly stands up and pulls his boxers down.

His pink tip is swollen and leaking precum. His grips his hand around his base and squeezes until his knuckles turn white, his head falling back out of pleasure or maybe the throbbing pain, there’s no way to tell. His eyes lock onto mine and he starts pumping up and down on his dick, sucking in a sharp breath.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

I pull myself to my feet as quick as I can and limp to the end of the bed, my legs like jelly after tensing up so hard.

“That’s cute. Can’t wait to carry you to the shower after this one.” he smirks and licks his lips.

My breath hitches as I turn around and bend over the footboard of the bed. His hands run up and down my ass, jiggling it before giving me a light smack with both hands. I gasp, jumping forward and my ribs hit the wood I’m bent over.

“So fucking hot, can’t believe this is all mine,” he coos, running his fingers down my folds before wiping my juices onto my lower back.

I feel his head against my clit, slick with warm precum. He soaks himself in my juices as he swipes it across my entrance, barely dipping in as he grips my hip with one hand.

“Chris.. oh my god. P-please just fuck me.” I whine, my legs already shaking and twitching.

“Mmm I plan on it, baby.” he whispers before slowly pushing forward.

He slowly gives me inch by delicious inch, my walls stretching around his thickness as we moan out together. He starts slow and stays deep inside me, barely pumping in and out. He runs his hands up and down my spine as he rocks into me, his breathing slow and controlled. My pussy clenches around him as his tip brushes repeatedly over a sensitive spot.

“P-please Chris go faster,” I draw out in a moan.

He listens. His thrusts become rough and rapid, my ribs slamming against the wood with each stroke but my brain seems to tune it out. He keeps his grip on my waist with one hand and reaches around to my face with the other, shoving two fingers in my mouth. I suck on them hard, swirling and lapping my tongue around them.

“Such a fucking slut, so willing to have all your holes filled, aren’t you?” He pants as he hooks his fingers onto the corner of my mouth and pulls back.

“Nhgnh.. fuck..” is all I can manage through his manipulation of my mouth.

“What? Am I fucking you dumb? Can’t even get your words out.”

I moan in response and feel my pussy throbbing around him, my lower abdomen on fire as I climb to my next release.

“S-so close..” I mumble as drool drips down my chin.

He lets go of my mouth and grips my waist, his thumbs pressing into the dimples on my back.

“You need me to cum in you, don’t you? I know you wanna be filled up, so full your eyes start to float.” He pumps as deep as he can go, my eyes rolling back into my head and words failing to form. “Answer me.” He spits with a smack on my ass.

“Please… p-please cum in me. Need it.. s-so bad Chris!”

With that he shoves his hips against me and shoots his hot load into my pussy, coating my walls as I fall over the edge with him. I’m screaming his name as he moans mine, pure ecstasy echoing through my room. I feel his cum leaking down my legs, such a big load that it has nowhere else to go. His thrusts slow down before they come to a halt, his dick still twitching inside me.

He pulls out and hums as he backs up and takes in the sight in front of him. I have no energy to stand, my muscles aching and tired.

“Look at that. God I wish I could burn this into my brain.”

He walks over to me, wrapping his arms around my torso and lifts me, my legs helping very little to hold me up. He hooks an arm under my thighs and picks me up to hold me bridal style. I’m so tired that my head can only manage to flop against his chest, and I hear his rapid heartbeat in my ear.

He starts to walk towards my bathroom but first places a lingering kiss on my forehead. I can feel the smile on his lips.

“Told you I’d have to carry you to the shower.”

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader

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maxsimagination · 2 months

Text

𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 - 𝙢.𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩

warnings: smut, soft dom!millie. 18+ under the cut

------

it was a friday night during international break.

the whole team had been working hard during the week in preparation for the game against italy, which was on tuesday.

sarina had willingly agreed to let us have the majority of the day off, after a quick training session (which ended up being not-so-quick) before we retired to our apartments for the day.

i was in my own room, with girlfriend millie splayed out over my bed.

we’d only been together for five months, but she was almost never in her own room if she had the choice, preferring mine instead.

“mills, i’m bored can we do something?”

“sure, y/n/n. we can watch a movie?”

i scrunched my face at the option.

“can i pick?”

a soft smile graced millie’s lips.

“of course.”

she held out the tv remote which i happily took and clambered onto the bed with her.

it took me a while to find something that looked decent enough to watch, but we decided on a popular romcom.

i settled into the bed, curled into millie’s arms. the defender was taller, and older, than me so her body was like a shell to my own.

the movie played out in front of us, scene after scene.

i would never admit it, but i got a bit bored after a while. my head rested on millie’s shoulder, trying my hardest to stay interested in the film.

spoiler alert: that didn’t work.

so i shuffled my body around, trying to find another position that was comfortable. millie had no clue what i was doing, but grabbed my hips and pulled me down on top of her own.

“you gonna watch the movie or not, princess?”

“y-yes.”

her voice was deep and gravelly, which short-circuited my brain and gave my body the shivers. this was the first time i had this feeling, it gave me goosebumps and a weird sensation that pooled in my gut.

i wiggled around a little more, but the feeling only grew. millie took notice of my movements, manoeuvring me so she was resting against the headboard of the bed and i was sitting on her lap.

“are you okay, baby? you keep wriggling round.”

i could feel myself burn up at her words.

“‘m fine. just need to get comfortable.”

she gave me a knowing smirk, letting me go back to attempting to watch the movie but keeping her hands on my thighs.

for the next half hour, she was drawing patterns, squeezing and sliding her hands all over my thighs. she had to know what she was doing to me, the feeling in my gut was growing stronger.

“mills, please.”

i breathed out.

“please what, princess?”

“please touch me.”

i was nervous. i wanted her to touch me, she knew that. but what she didn’t know was that i was just as experienced in the sex department as a fish is at flying.

i was a virgin.

millie’s hands slid higher up my thighs, closer to the edge of my thin pj shorts.

“where do you want me to touch you?”

she was torturing me, she had to be. my cheeks were flaming from the embarrassment.

“mills, please don’t tease me.”

a flicker of sympathy could be seen in her eyes, and she didn’t ask me again. her hands went higher up until they slid under the waistband of my shorts.

i wanted this to happen, needed it even. but i was shit scared to let it happen.

“mills.”

i put my hands on hers, effectively stopping her in her tracks.

“what is it? do you want me to stop?”

her response was immediate.

“i just.. need to tell you something before we keep going.”

“you can tell me anything, y/n.”

deep breaths, in and out. i worked up the courage to finally tell her.

“i’ve never done this before. i’m a virgin.”

i mumbled the last word, but millie’s could still hear it.

there was a beat of silence, in which i looked up at millie, expecting to see disgust or some variation of anger. but instead she had a soft smile on her face.

“that’s perfectly fine, princess. we can take it nice and slow. if you need me to stop at any time, you just say so.”

i got butterflies in my stomach at her words, she was so soft and kind and caring.

i nodded along and millie slowly started moving her hands back up and down my thighs. she lifted one of her hands up to my chin, where she turned my head to face hers, placing a small kiss on my lips.

i got a little more confident, pulling her back in for a longer, more heated kiss, which then became a make out session.

“mills, you can take off my shorts.”

my voice was soft, nearly a whisper. but this was a big step for me, and millie knew it.

“you’re sure? we don’t have to.”

“i’m sure.”

i guided her hands up to the waistband of my shorts, letting her take control from there.

she knew what she was doing, flopping us over so i was laying on my back on the bed and she was hovering over me. again, she rested her hands on my waist with her fingers hooked in the waistband, giving me a questioning look.

i nodded at her, begging her with my eyes to just take them off.

it was slow and torturous, watching millie pull both my shirts and lacey underwear down but we finally got there.

“can i touch you?”

“yes, please millie, touch me everywhere.”

i knew she was trying to be considerate and check if this was okay, but i just wanted her to fuck me.

her large hands pulled my legs, spreading them apart and showing myself to her.

she started slow, dragging a finger through my already-wet folds, then two, then her tongue. i jolted at the sensation of her mouth in between my legs.

she had me weak with need as she lapped up the juices that seemed to be never ending from my pussy.

“m-millie please.”

i was moaning at her movements, she was sucking on my clit, while working her fingers upwards and into my hole. she set a slow but steady pace, pumping into me.

it didn’t take long before i needed more, my hips were rocking up to meet her thrusts.

she sucked harshly onto my clit, making me cry out. that quickly turned into another moan as she quickened her fingers’ pace.

it felt very sudden, one minute i was desperate for more, the next i was hanging over the very edge of my orgasm, begging to let go.

“i’m g-gonna cum, mills, please can i cum?”

with a flat stripe licked up from my hole to my clit, millie let out a gruff,

“cum, princess.”

and sucked harshly on my clit to push me over the edge.

it was pure ecstasy. pleasure. i was on cloud 9 and i never wanted to come down.

when i finally did float back to reality, my eyes were droopy and my limbs felt weak. i could see millie grabbing a cloth from the bathroom, before walking back over to me.

“well done, love. such a good girl for me.”

she cleaned me up before dressing me again, and we cuddled in my bed until i fell asleep.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso smut #millie bright #millie bright x reader #millie bright imagine

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jooniperbonsai · 3 months

Text

My Bloody Valentine (jjk)

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x human reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 13.9k

Release date: Thurs. February 15, 2024

Genre: smut, fluff, humor, hella angst

Summary: You don't understand why your vampire boyfriend is so caught up in the idea of a silly holiday, until you realize it's about more than just candy hearts.

Warnings: Blood (duh), swearing, blood drinking, lots of angst, allusion to jungkook being bisexual, alcohol, brief description that sounds similar to disordered eating, jungkook is clingy and kind of a brat, so is reader tbh, accusations/assumptions of cheating, both are conflict avoidant which makes things worse, discussions of death and infertility, references to opiate addiction, medical theft, uh y/n kind of non-consensually feeds jungkook her blood, oral sex (m/f), masturbation (m/f), fingering, temperature play, unprotected rough sex, clit spanking, biting kink (!!!! just be warned lol), choking, dirty talk, mention of menstrual sex/oral kink, mention of somnophilia, creampie

a/n: Hi! Happy (late) Valentine’s Day! Thank you all for your enthusiastic support for this fic. I hope it exceeds your expectations (as it exceeded mine). I have some extra thoughts that I’ll leave at the end of this fic to avoid spoilers, but I hope you enjoy my little y/n and vampire Jungkook couple as much as I do. I would like to thank p for talking this universe through with me until it made sense.

“All I’m saying is that Halloween hardly feels like a holiday about vampires!”

“As opposed to what? Christmas?”

You’ve been standing in your kitchen arguing with your boyfriend for so long that the once-scalding cup of coffee in your favorite mug is now cold. Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool against the counter, his white shirt rolled up his forearms to reveal a similar pale shade underneath. You can see the corded tendons of his arms flex as he wrings his hands together in frustration.

When you woke up this morning, it was not from a lazy well-slept haze you were expecting to have. Instead, you had awoken to a crash coming from the kitchen, sending your heart jolting as you tried to make sense of the world and the source of the noise.

Buttercup, your cat and usual suspect for mischief, mewled angrily from her perch as she, too, eyed the wrongfully accused sleep disruptor. As she arched her back in one long, tail-shaking stretch, she glared at you and then twirled herself around to face the wall before settling back into her bed with a final huff.

If it wasn’t Buttercup, then it could only be one other creature.

You’d padded your way down the hall to the kitchen, only to see Jungkook already dressed and swearing to himself as he gathered the shattered pieces of a glass measuring cup and what looked like orange juice into a pile with a wet dish rag.

“Don’t come any closer!” he shrieked, and before you could even open your mouth to assure him you’d be fine, he'd already swooped you into the living room and onto the couch. “Don’t move!” he ordered and because you heard the sharp warning creeping into his tone, you obeyed.

An hour and a half later, the kitchen is a mess from what you now understand to be Jungkook’s attempt at cooking you breakfast for Valentine’s Day, a holiday that you both agreed you wouldn’t celebrate.

You take a sip of your coffee, trying not to wince at how it still somehow tastes burnt through the too-sweet pink sugar cookie creamer he’d doused it with when he insisted on making you a cup.

“No, of course not. Y/N! But don’t you think Valentine’s Day should be more about vampires?”

You snort, and the residual coffee on your tongue shoots to the back of your throat, sending you into a coughing fit.

“What?” You say when you finally regain composure. You set down the mug and glance around for a single cup in your kitchen that hasn’t been dirtied in this process of making…well…you’re not sure what. There’s some burnt edges of something in the sink, but a weird goo glazing various bowls that somewhat resembles pancakes. However, a bright green lump of…maybe spinach?...rests in those as well, so you’re not entirely confident where he was going with this execution.

Jungkook isn’t usually this oblivious to human tendencies, mostly because it wasn’t so long ago that he himself was a human. In the year you’ve been together, you’ve learned all about Jungkook’s swift descent into vampirism. Unlike many of his kind, he’s a fledgling. He was turned a handful of years ago and doesn’t exist in the ancient, strange accents and customs form of vampire some know. Nor is he a sleepless, sparkly teenager with superhuman speed. Yes, he has fangs, is paler than the normal person, and he will not (you think) age. But as someone who has maintained his twenty-something appearance, this currently presents as a non-issue because, if still alive, he would still be a twenty-something.

And unlike the stereotypes of his kind, Jungkook is not in a decades-long bloodlust. Lust, perhaps, but it’s unknown if that’s because of his vampirism or because he’s a horny man. The one who changed Jungkook did so in a dark night club in Paris between searing hot kisses, where he slid his fangs along Jungkook’s throat while rutting against him on the dance floor. Jungkook, in that drunk and sex-induced haze, never suspected that the slight sharpness tracing along his jugular, sending a delicious chill down his spine, would result in him waking up three days later in a hotel in Vienna with nothing more than a vague note of warning and a few plastic bags of blood chilling in the mini fridge.

While he doesn’t consume much now beyond A or O positive, Jungkok often cooks you meals so you’re not as tired when you get home from work. It’s sweet, but you know that he does it for himself, for the reminder of his humanity and, as he once admitted himself, for the fact that more energy saved from you not cooking means more energy for him to fuck out of you seven days a week.

“I’m going to need you to explain your reasoning behind that logic,” you say, and finally locate a clean cup to fill with water.

Jungkook grunts, and when you glance over at him, you can see he's pouting, his dual lip rings pulled under one of his fangs.

“Well,” he says, tense, “I just thought…with all this stuff, Valentine’s Day should be more about, you know, vampires? Blood? Red? Hearts?”

“Baby,” you laugh, and fish around on the cluttered countertop for something to eat until you spot a bowl of strawberries tucked behind a jar of kimchi. Your stomach growls. “Valentine’s Day uses the heart motif because of love. You know that. You weren’t born yesterday.”

He rolls his eyes in annoyance and you furrow your brow before popping the sweet fruit into your mouth. What is going on with him today?

“Yes, I know I wasn’t born yesterday! Thank you for the reminder! But I’m saying that Halloween is this holiday that makes vampires into these beasts who suck and drain all the blood from bodies or sleep in coffins! Beware the dark corners of the world or else they’ll get you! But Valentine’s Day, what even is this about? A fat naked baby who spears you with an arrow and suddenly you’re in love with someone? Sounds way more monstrous to me! And people embrace this guy? People want him to stab them so they can be all fluttery in love and get all these nice things. But I have to be seen as this awful monster all the time? It’s just not fair!” he shouts, and swipes his hand across the counter.

You gasp as you watch an empty plastic container clatter to the ground before he brings his hands up to cover his face.

Jungkook isn’t one for temper tantrums. While he does have a tendency to be more sensitive, throwing things, even empty containers, is very out of the norm for him. You remember early on in your relationship, he once used a little too much of his supernatural strength to hit you with a pillow when you were both goofing off, which resulted in you being smacked right off the bed with the wind knocked out of you.

You spent the rest of the day posted up on the couch under his orders, while he waited on you hand-and-foot despite the fact that once you recovered (mostly from laughter), you were perfectly fine. It led to an eventual discussion about how you weren’t so breakable, where you proved your point by showing him just how flexible you were.

Which is why now, as Jungkook huffs all over the place, you know something is seriously wrong.

You move away from the strawberries and walk around the kitchen island to Jungkook, gently pulling his hands down.

“Hey,” you whisper, looking up at him. His hair has fallen into his face, disheveled from all his fussing in the kitchen and the many times this morning you’ve seen him running his fingers through it.

Jungkook yanks his hand away and stands, pushing away from the counter before stomping into the living room and pacing angrily. You follow him.

“Hey,” you try again, firmer. “You gonna tell me what is going on? Because normally you don’t leave a giant mess of whatever that is going on in the kitchen before you walk away from it, and you especially don’t walk away from me when I’m trying to talk to you.” Your jaw sets and you stand in the doorway, crossing your arms as you watch him pace.

He responds with a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, well that’s a start. Can’t even fucking cook my girlfriend a meal on this stupid holiday.”

This is exactly why you told Jungkook you don’t want to celebrate Valentine’s Day this year. All week long he’s been making snarky comments about it, from rants about the greeting card company’s agenda to explaining how it’s become over-the-top and overrated to now, as of this morning, promoting vampires as the superior holiday mascot to Cupid.

Truthfully, you’ve always liked this holiday. When all the post-holiday sales were running months ago, you’d noticed a deal on the record player Jungkook had been eying for months but would never let himself have. His last one had started to break right after you two started dating, but he was always a good sport about it, cracking jokes about how the old-timey canned sound it produced didn’t play Eminem, but “Eminesquire the Third”. Prompted by the desperate need to replace the tinny echoes that haunted your apartment, you didn’t hesitate to snag this gift for him and immediately wrapped it before shoving it under your bed to give to him today.

Well, that was until all this started a little over a week ago. Up until that point, he’d seemed fine, never mentioning an opinion on Valentine’s Day. Then one morning you woke up and saw him complaining about how since he turned he would never be able to eat chocolate again. Which was incredibly dramatic, because Jungkook can eat if he wants to, but he chooses not to since it doesn’t do anything for him anymore.

Every mention of the holiday since, from the ads popping up on his phone to the colorful heart shaped decorations in store fronts, has made him irate and hostile.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, but I didn’t ask you to make me breakfast,” you huff, now offset by his bad mood. “Like, I know that I told you last week we didn’t have to do any of this. So I’m not sure why now you’re trying to make some grand gesture of breakfast or stomping around arguing with me about the politics of vampires being a traditional mascot for Halloween instead of Valentine’s Day or how dumb you think this holiday is.”

His nostrils flare. “Well excuse me for trying to be a good boyfriend and do something nice for you!”

“What?” Heat flashes through your entire body as you feel the thin hold you have on your anger slip. “Oh, I see. So this is all about me is it? This is my fault? Tell me, when I go in there and clean up your mess of all my food you wasted by doing this nice thing I didn’t ask for, is that also for me as a treat? Or is that going to be leftover in the fridge for me to clean later?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow as you match his anger. He opens his mouth to speak, but you raise your eyebrow, daring him to try.

“Ah ah,” you warn, your voice laced with venom. “I’m not fucking done speaking.”

He slides his tongue over his teeth instead before sucking in his lips.

“So, after I noticed it hurt you and said we didn’t have to do it, after I promised you I didn’t mind if we skipped the theatrics of this holiday, you what? Took it out on me? How the hell is this being a good boyfriend, Jungkook? How is you shutting me out for the last week, pouting and being an absolute brat doing me any favors? Showing you love me?”

You begin to feel the fury recede into something worse: pain. It settles over the heat, moving back down into your throat with a sharp lump.

“You wanna talk about shutting someone out, Y/N? Really?” Jungkook roars, halting his anxious movement. “That’s rich considering the secrets you’re keeping!”

Your brain buzzes with confusion and anger. You rewind the conversation, trying to form connections that would lead to this accusation.

“Are you serious? Wh-Do you think I’m cheating or s-something? Jungkook who the fuck do you think–” Your voice cracks, and you heft a heavy sob from your chest.

Never in your relationship have you two ever suspected the other of cheating. You’ve always been so certain of each other, that you two would never stray, that your connection and the very nature of your relationship demonstrated a type of bond that didn’t present anyone else as an option simply because you never wanted anyone else.

But given how things have been going, how Jungkook has been hiding things from you, you are starting to wonder if that’s not the case, if him pulling away isn’t to try to protect himself from getting hurt.

You’ve also tried not to notice how this month, when you counted the inventory of the blood bags stashed in the back of the freezer, it wasn’t nearly as empty as it usually was. You considered that maybe Jungkook just wasn’t thirsty, that maybe some of the bags you’d snagged from work, one of them being plasma, were satiating his hunger more than usual. With how Jungkook is looking at you now, eyes wide with the shock of your address, you can see you were wrong, the faint circles of thirst tugging under his eyelids.

You pull your shirt sleeve up to wipe your dripping nose, only to see it’s stained blue from some mysterious breakfast ingredient.

“I’m not saying you’re cheating, Y/N! God why would you think that! Fuck, no, this.” He produces a folded up envelope from his back pocket and shoves it toward you.

You sniffle and take the envelope, noticing it’s addressed to you. From your work.

Your stomach sinks. You know exactly what that is. “You know what? I’m going to take a shower,” you mumble, and you see in your periphery Jungkook’s head snap toward you.

“What?” he says exasperated. “Now? We–”.

You nod, choosing not to look at him now as you cut down the hall and shut the bathroom door firmly behind you.

You and Jungkook met, ironically, at a blood drive.

You were both volunteering to hand out snacks and mini water bottles to donors at the drive. This was a few months before Jungkook had gone on his Eurotrip, a few months before he would never again be able to volunteer with clinics to help patients.

While you’d met back then, and certainly had some chemistry that resulted in one really sexy car makeout ending with his hand down your scrub pants and you panting into his neck, it wasn’t until a few years later you’d reunited.

Jungkook had been pacing around the clinic near closing time, his thirst becoming far more unbearable by the hour. He had been trying desperately to avoid consuming human blood, but the various city rats or injured birds he was drinking from were still racking him with unfavorable guilt and an almost hazy sickness you remember sinking his features.

When you went to leave that night, you’d spotted Jungkook propped up against one of the glass doors, pale, with heavy bruise-like markings under his eyes. He was conscious, you’d noted, despite the fact that you couldn’t detect a pulse and his skin felt harder and icy to the touch. When you grabbed your phone to call an ambulance, he knocked it from your hand, instead begging you for a bag of blood.

“I can’t do transfusions, Jungkook, not here. That’s why we need to get you the hospital, so we can you look you over and–”

“No, Y’N, that’s not what I mean.” He’d laughed and flashed you a weak smile. “I don’t need a transfusion.”

“Then, what––.”

And that’s when you saw them: his fangs.

When you’d heard about Jungkook going missing in Paris, randomly disappearing in the night and showing back up months later with no story to share, there were rumors circulating that he’d started doing drugs and lost his job at the record store because in Europe he got hooked on opiates.

And you’d so easily believed that lie, though it soured your stomach. What other explanation was there for someone disappearing and coming back more pale, less human? You simply continued on with your work, finishing school in between and finding a more permanent presence at the clinic as a phlebotomist.

Feeling guilty, you turned around and headed back into the building, emerging with two bags of warm blood that you watched him practically shotgun in the passenger seat of your car. You didn’t tell him it was your blood, but as he told you later, he knew anyway. He could smell your particular flavor dotting the bandage.

Slowly, you and Jungkook became closer, you swiped a blood bag here and there from the clinic when no one was looking, sitting with him as he told you the story of him turning or the first time he fed. It seemed too surreal to be true, but as the dark circles under his eyes began to fade over the weeks, and his laugh started sounding more round and full, you felt like there was no way you could deny who he was, or more importantly, how he made you feel.

Being around Jungkook was addicting, which was evident in how easy it became for you to steal blood from the clinic without thinking twice. At first, you felt awful, knowing that each bag you were taking could very well be taking away someone else’s chance at life. But the more you thought about Jungkook, how he was just as alive as any human– how he feathered his fingers through his hair or how just a few years ago he breathed and moaned before you in the backseat of your car– what really was the difference between giving him blood versus some other person? Didn’t both bodies need it to survive?

The months ran on, and the crisp fall days that welcomed Jungkook back into your life were becoming tender, warmer as the early blooms of spring replaced them. Jungkook, too, was warmer, his body full and flushed with blood as he finally returned to as much of a human as he can be, reaching for your hand when you two walked through the park together, or falling asleep on your stomach while watching a movie.

Vampires sleep, you learned, though it’s not so much necessary as it is habitual, as Jungkook explained. He once tested himself to see how long he could go without sleeping, and as it turned out, the answer was evidently forever, for he managed three weeks not feeling groggy in the slightest. But sleeping helped time pass. Nights were lonely when the only people he wanted to interact with weren’t around, and grappling with being some shade of immortal often led Jungkook into a spiral as he processed time passing.

Therefore, sleep was welcome when it came. Especially with you, who he could tuck himself close to, and the soft beat of your heart served as his lullaby.

That’s when you knew that you loved him: when he told you that he went to sleep for you, that otherwise, he waited for you to wake up so he could see you again.

You’d become just as addicting to be around as he was for you, and you trusted it wasn’t just because you were his favorite teller at the blood bank who snuck him a withdrawal.

It was because he loved you too.

The fog on the bathroom mirror doesn’t show your reflection currently, but if it did, you know you’d see Jungkook standing behind you silently as you brush your teeth. Despite his stillness and his ability to appear without making a sound when he wants, your body reacts to Jungkook like a magnet pulled toward metal.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks finally, and you rinse your mouth.

“Because, I didn’t want you to feel guilty,” you say and reach for the envelope you left on the bathroom counter before your shower.

After a year of sneaking blood from the clinic, one year of popping plastic bags your into pockets after writing them off under a sealing failure or manufacturing issue or recording less volume in the official donation records or claiming a miscount in inventory, you were finally caught last week with a warm bag of blood in your possession.

Stupidly, you’d popped it into your purse right before an end-of-day meeting and in the rush to make it on time, you didn’t zip everything closed securely. When you inevitably knocked your knee onto the table while shifting to get more comfortable, your purse tumbled to the floor, exposing the vermillion contents within, and issuing you an immediate suspension.

Suspension, instead of fire only for the singular fact that the bag of cooling blood was your own.

You had known for a while that the clinic’s director of operations was becoming suspicious. The entire team had been subject to instances of recertification and retraining to try to address whatever issues that were leading to so many mishaps. It would only be a matter of time before the records kept showing your name attached to these transgressions, though you were almost relieved when you’d learned there were other various cases of blood loss occurring for factors you weren’t responsible for, most notably some interns who kept forgetting to put the bags containing red blood cells in the refrigerator, or who were not filling the entire bags, disqualifying the entire sample.

Overall, it would be safer to divest from your current plan, but finding an alternative to feed Jungkook was more difficult than you thought. You knew given the shortage of blood donations, you could no longer keep gleaning from work or other affiliates as resources.

But you also couldn’t convince Jungkook to feed from you.

You’d tried many times in the last year when he was dizzy or grumpy from thirst. And every time without fail, he refused.

“I haven’t even bitten anyone before,” he admitted one day, the dark circles under his eyes especially purple. His stubborn refusal slurred his speech into a lisp. “And I don’t intend to start now! Especially not with you!”

You’d dropped the subject, rooting around in the freezer until you found a blocky pint underneath a tub of freezer-burned ice cream.

But Jungkook had drunk your blood before on that first night at the clinic. And maybe if you executed things carefully, you could supplement some packets of your own blood in to help him get by. That way, he wouldn't have to bite you, but at least he would be fed. And you wouldn’t be at risk of imprisonment for medical theft.

So that’s what you started to do, slowly introducing him to your blood by creating fake donor names with the label machine and reprinting the same barcode as you filled bag after bag over the weeks.

And then last week, you got caught, your only assurance that you might only be suspended rooted in the fact that you hadn’t had the time to issue a fake label for the bag before the meeting.

And, because the blood was still warm in its pouch, because your arm had only just stopped bleeding, your case that you made of the blood being yours wasn’t entirely unreasonable. But what no one could understand was why you needed a bag of your own blood in the first place, much less why you were doing your own draw of it.

They confiscated the bag, as well as a small sample you offered for lab comparison to confirm it was yours, and they sent you home with the letter almost like you were a kid who was in trouble at school.

Your suspension is in effect until the board meets later this week to discuss your case, at which time you’ll be informed if you’re terminated or if you’ll be put on probation.

You’ve accepted that you might be fired, but what you couldn’t accept is the idea that Jungkook would definitely blame himself if he found out. Which is why you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him when it happened. If you did, you knew you would also have to admit to him that you have been non-consensually feeding him your blood instead of others’, which was a conversation you’d hoped to avoid until you were sure he would understand. Instead, you fucked up, and it’s all the more apparent as Jungkook frowns at you in the bathroom.

You rinse your mouth of the toothpaste, feeling a huge shard of guilt pierce your stomach.

“I wouldn’t have let you keep doing this if I’d known you were at risk of losing your job,” he mutters. “You already know I feel shitty even relying on you like this.”

“That’s exactly my point! That’s why I didn’t tell you! Because I knew we would end up here!”

“And that’s why this is a problem! You are failing to see how fucked up it is for me to have to depend on you to feed me!”

“Why?” You snap, and you immediately regret it, giving him an apologetic frown. “Sorry, I mean. Why do you feel so shitty relying on me? We’re partners, Jungkook.”

“Yeah, Y/N, we’re partners. Which means we are supposed to communicate with each other about things. That doesn’t mean you risk your entire career for me.”

“But doesn’t it, though?” You argue.

Jungkook groans and then wets his lips with his tongue before speaking. “No, baby. You’re not supposed to be making sacrifices like this! Not for me! Fuck, you shouldn’t be doing shit like this at all! You should be going to work, kicking ass, and then coming home to eat real food with your real boyfriend before you have incredible sex and then fall asleep!”

You cock your head at him, confused. “But, Jungkook, we already do that stuff.”

“No, we don’t, Y/N. You go to work, orchestrate some grand scheme to basically illegally harvest strangers’ blood during a national shortage, you come home and you eat. But I don’t. I leech off of someone else’s platelets. And then we have sex, and you fall asleep. And sometimes I do. But sometimes, I can’t. Because all I want to do is dream of you and I can’t do that anymore. Because I’m not real, Y/N, I’m literally a monster.”

You shake your head furiously and step toward him. “Listen. I made the choice to do this. Ever since the first day when you showed up at the clinic. I could have left you behind, I could have insisted to take you to the hospital anyway or put you in a headlock or something–”

“You are way too weak to put me in a headlock, even on that day,” he chuckles.

“I would have figured it out! But I had a choice in this Jungkook, just as much as you did for showing up, for asking me to help you. You could have gone somewhere else, or broken into the clinic after I left. You could have continued to live a half-life with a diet of rats and the occasional squirrel. But you chose this. You made choices, too.”

You push your toweled body into him, desperate for his touch. This is how you often are with him, needing him to ground you, to make sure you don’t spin out of control. He sighs, and you feel him circle his arms around you, his nose nuzzling into your wet hair. You shiver at the contact. Your shower must’ve been hotter than normal, because Jungkook feels almost like ice against your skin, much colder than his normal, albeit cooler temperature.

“Fuck, Jungkook, when was the last time you ate?” you ask.

He stiffens, then withdraws from the embrace.

“Get dressed,” he says, ignoring your question, before opening the door to the bathroom, the draft of the apartment, of his absence, leaving goosebumps on your skin in its wake.

The kitchen is clean, any and all evidence of this morning’s tirade gone. Jungkook has changed out of his jeans and button-down for a black hoodie and basketball shorts, solidifying the idea that he has no intention of leaving the apartment for the rest of the day.

You dress down similarly, throwing on a large ratty t-shirt and some sweats, very similar to the pajamas you’d been wearing for most of the day.

There’s a fresh pot of coffee brewing, but you ignore it, your stomach feeling sour over the idea of putting anything into it right now.

You lead Jungkook into the living room, and both of you sit on the couch, legs folded as you face one another.

“I know you’re not eating.” You try to say it softly, like an observation, but as the words leave your mouth, you hear them sound accusatory, tense.

“I know you know I’m not eating,” he responds, his tone even and cool. “I’ve seen you doing inventory checks daily.”

“You have to eat,” you urge. “You can’t just starve like this.”

“I’m not starving,” he says, still composed, distant.

“Bun, you’ve significantly curbed your consumption. You used to throw back two pints a day, easily.”

“Yes, well, that was before I found out my girlfriend was suspended from work for smuggling me those two pints, jeopardizing her entire future.”

“I don’t understand why you’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”

His eyebrows rise. “I don’t understand why you’re not making it the bigger deal that it is!”

“Because it’s not! Not really! I have it under control!”

“And how exactly do you have this under control? Getting fired? Ruining your life isn’t control!”

“I don’t think I’ll be fired. Put on probation maybe, but not fired.”

“And why are you so sure about that?”

“Because…because I didn’t steal someone else’s blood. And that’s a criminal offense. But the laws are muddier when it’s your own blood.”

“Your…your own blood. You were caught with your own blood.” Jungkook looks at you quizzically. And then you see it register. His pupils blow wide.

“I fucking knew it,” he says. “I knew I was tasting you. I thought maybe it was just because you were on your period for a little longer than usual this month, and that maybe I was catching something in the air and just mixing up the scent with the taste of the blood. But, fuck! Goddamn it Y/N! I told you I didn’t want to feed from you and you just went and did it anyway?”

“I’m sorry,” you admit, your cheeks burning with guilt. “I just wanted to help you.”

“By taking away my choice in the matter? By hurting yourself? Shit!”

“No. I–I know you said you didn’t want to bite me, so I thought maybe if I did it this way that it wouldn’t be so bad and you wouldn’t have to feel so bad about it! And then I wouldn’t be as likely to be caught at work. It gave me some protection too in this! The board is meeting later this week to talk about my case and because the blood results proved to be mine, they just have to decide an appropriate punishment. I’m not going to go to jail over this, and if I lose my job, I’ll figure something out. But, I really didn’t mean to take away your choice, and I see now that I did.” You feel your throat close as you begin to cry..

Jungkook is right, you took away his choice by doing this, and no matter your intention, he has the right to know.

“I’m really sorry. I completely fucked up doing this.”

“Yeah, you did. But not in the way you’re seeing this. God. It’s not about biting or not biting, it’s how easily you did it for me. How you keep putting yourself, your own health, at risk for me! You don’t get it! You stole blood for me for almost a year. And then when you started to realize your future was at stake, you took it from your own body. Which you shouldn’t have to do!”

You swipe at the tears pooling from your eyes. “You keep saying that. Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true, baby! You shouldn’t be in this weird supernatural chaos! It’s Valentine’s Day! You should be feeding your boyfriend chocolates or eating breakfast in bed. Exchanging presents and going on dates to dinner or the movies. Having sex! And not just sex, making love, making babies!”

“But you said you didn’t want to do any of that! Jungkook, I’m so confused. What is it that you want? If you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, I have a present for you wrapped up that I’ve been dying to give you for months. And we can go to the movies. We can have sex… I don’t even want a baby!”

You pull a pillow into your lap like a shield.

“You do want a baby,” he accuses. You snap your head up.

“What? No, I–”

“You do. You told me on Christmas Eve, when we were watching that movie on the couch. You were falling asleep during it, but in that scene when he comes home after saying no to that deal, she says ‘I want my baby to look like you’ and you looked up at me so sleepy and warm and alive, and you repeated it back to me. You said ‘I want my baby to look like you.’”

You think back to that night, when you and Jungkook were cuddled up together watching It’s A Wonderful Life since he’d never seen it, and between sips of a very strong eggnog, you kept studying his face, almost overwhelmed by the idea that you could ever love him more than you did in this moment. When Mary told George she was pregnant, something just felt right about that phrase, and in your tipsy, sleepy, haze, you must have recited that part back to him.

Honestly, you do want your baby to look like him. You can’t imagine anyone else in the world whose features you would want to see copied into another human, one that you make together.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not mad that you said it. I’m honored. Because if I could have children, I would want them to look like you.” His voice is tight. “But I can’t give you that. I think if I could, we would currently be arguing over paint swatches and baby names while I rub your swollen feet, not this. Because fuck we have definitely not been careful,” he chuckles.

Despite the sadness in his voice, you feel yourself smirk.

“And even if we adopted, that doesn’t solve one of the biggest issues out of all of this. Which is that you will grow older and more beautiful and our children would grow older and more beautiful, and I don’t know if I will. I don’t know if I’m going to be doomed by the stereotypical vampire life because I don’t know who turned me. He didn’t give me anything to go off of. Maybe I age but I do it slower. Maybe I will never age. Maybe I live forever or just a little longer than you. Or fuck, maybe instead of living forever, vampires actually have an insanely short life span because we are just another type of mosquito derivative!”

You laugh at that, though you still feel the tears staining your cheeks, making no effort to stop.

“The point is, I can’t promise you anything human. I can’t promise you a normal life with me. Babies that we make, us growing old together. If I could do one thing different, I kinda wish I put a baby into you the first time we fucked around in that car. God knows I was hard enough.”

“Jungkook,” you choke, ignoring his attempt at deflecting. “I don’t care about any of that. I know I said that stuff on Christmas, but I didn’t mean it like that. Maybe you can have kids! Like you said, you don’t know. For all we know, my freakishly long periods might be a sign I’m infertile. I don’t know either, I haven’t gone to the doctor or taken tests because I haven’t been too worried about it. That or aging or any of this! My job even.”

“Wait, hold on, back up. You might be infertile?” He looks almost offended by his own use of the term.

You nod. “Maybe, but I haven’t really been thinking about it lately. I’ve been more worried about you, more focused on you.”

He squints. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been evasive and bratty and honestly just fucking awful. And I can see why. You’re thirsty. You stopped eating again. You started screaming about heart themed things being for vampires. You’ve been avoiding me…is that why you haven’t told me anything? Because of my work thing?”

“I still can’t understand why you are this nonchalant about your career,” he says and you shrug.

“Bunny,” you warn, and Jungkook crosses his arms across his chest.

“Okay, yes,” he concedes. “Part of this is due to that. Because you didn’t tell me. But also I feel like I’m ruining your life. And if that’s the case, if I’m taking so much from you, I want to take less. I want to be less.”

“I’m a parasite. A leech. I consume human blood to carry on living my nonexistent life. I sleep but I don’t dream. I can’t enjoy things the same way. I can’t be normal and that’s what you deserve. What you need. So if I’m going to be a parasite and dependent on you, I want to make things easier. You mentioned that gift under the bed…and, I don’t know that started it all. Got me thinking about all the things I can’t give you. All the experiences you’ll never have because of me. But how much you want it. Valentine’s Day. Baby, I know it’s a holiday you like. I see your eyes sparkle every time you pass the decorations and candy at the store. Of course you have had a present for me wrapped and ready since Christmas, because that’s you and how incredible you are. And I wanted to give you some of that back, but the more I thought about it, the angrier I got that I can never be good enough for you. I can’t give you everything. And then this morning, I don’t know, I snapped. I tried to cook you something I normally can do with my eyes blindfolded and walking backwards but everything came toppling down around me and I got overwhelmed and ended up fucking it all up.”

Jungkook reaches across the couch, taking your hand in his, tracing his thumb across your knuckles.

“You’re so dramatic,” you accuse, and roll your eyes.

Jungkook retracts his hand and pouts. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“You’re being dramatic and over the top with this broody Edward Cullen shit. I’m sick of it.” You toss the pillow to the side and sit up on the couch, edging your body closer.

“For starters, you’re punishing yourself by not eating. Your hands are like ice, and that means you’re extremely underfed because very little blood is in you. Second, you refuse to eat because at first it was someone else’s blood and I could get in trouble so that justified not doing it. But now that it’s freely available, because it’s mine you have some moral conniption preventing you from nourishing your body. And all of this is circling around the same problem. Which is you deciding for me what you think I want and need.” You hover just above him now, your knees digging into the cushions on either side of him as you trap him under you.

“You decided wrong, by the way. You based what I want not on who I am, but on your own insecurities and fears about me, Jungkook. And that’s not fair to me.”

You plant yourself down on him, straddling your weight across his chest. Jungkook gazes up at you, a frown still etched on his face, though it’s grown softer.

“It’s also not fair to me that you are trying to control my decision about feeding from you or not. If you were a vegetarian, how would you feel if I had replaced your veggie burgers with meat patties just because I thought you needed the protein?” He asks.

You hadn’t thought about that. Your shoulders sag as you sit with the realization.

“I need you to trust that I won’t ever go back to feeling the way I did when we first met. Look at me, are the marks under my eyes as dark? Am I as hard or pale?” You shake your head, and Jungkook reaches up to your face, touching his palm to your cheek. “I am thirsty, baby. But I also know how to control myself. I have spent months with you, around your blood, smelling you when you do something as little as get a paper cut or have a large blood clot pass during your period. Don’t look at me like that, it’s literally just blood from your body, you as a phlebotomist know better than to find that weird or gross.” You giggle, trying to ward away the flush of your cheeks. “And yes, it hurts, but kind of like when you smell something really good cooking in the kitchen and your stomach growls. But that’s the worst of it.”

“Is it though?” you ask gently, trying not to argue with him, but his eyes seem almost cloudy to you.

His brows knit and he opens his mouth but then shuts it, nodding for you to continue. Instead, he strokes along your brow bone, then down the curves of your jaw, tracing your features with his index finger.

“Your eyes aren’t as clear as they are when you feed regularly,” you sigh sadly. “I don’t want to change you, at all. But you’re warmer then too. And on days like today, it would be nice to have you less frigid to cuddle up next to. But I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do. I was wrong to not tell you about my work stuff and my blood. Those are two big things that you deserve to know as my partner, and because they impact you directly. I’m sorry.”

You take his hand in yours and bring it down over your chest. “If you don’t want to drink those blood packs, I understand. We’ll find some other way of getting you blood. But we need to make these decisions together. All of them. No more of us deciding we know what the other person needs best. That means I am not force feeding you my blood, I know. It also means you don’t get to decide if I want to have a biological baby or if I want to grow old with someone else.”

Jungkook contemplates this, and then nods in agreement.

“Do you feel that?” You ask, glancing down to your chest, referring to your heart beat.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“Good, because in all this, you keep saying you’re this monster and that can’t be further from the truth. Maybe I don’t need normal, because I don’t want normal. I want you. And I am alive and warm as a human is, sure. You insist you’re not alive. But what is life really? Do you need to be breathing and to have a beating heart like mine to experience love? Joy? The things that make up life? You feel me. Even if it’s all a habit now. The memory of your body, I don’t know. I don’t know how you work either but that doesn’t matter.”

“Do you need to have dreams or to eat chocolate or make babies to feel like you’re living, Jungkook? Because I don't think you do. I think your body and my body sitting here together, my heart pumping blood through me, more than I probably even need to keep me going, is more than enough for me. You loving me, I think that’s life. Is that not enough for you?”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy, and he takes a deep breath, also probably out of habit more than necessity. “No, it’s more than enough,” he says. “I think this is life.”

You smile. “Okay, then let’s live. Let’s live like this. Whatever it is. And we can decide as we go what living looks like, alright?”

Jungkook releases his bottom lip from his fang. “Alright.”

You lean in, and Jungkook’s lips pull up into a smirk right before he kisses you, molding his body into yours with relief.

You welcome his tongue into your mouth, surprised by how cold even that is. When you pull away to catch your breath, you pull yourself tightly against him.

“We need to find you something to eat,” you say for what feels like the millionth time today, and Jungkook sighs.

“Tomorrow, okay? I just want to be close to you right now.” He burrows deeper into your t-shirt and you hum in agreement, letting the soft animal of his body feel like home.

The rest of the day, the two of you drift back into the softer and more familiar patterns of your relationship that the last week has disrupted.

Jungkook cooks you dinner, properly this time, a steak you wash down with a beer, the two of you discussing your friends and the latest episode of the show you finally have caught up watching, the tense air between you two perhaps not entirely diffused, but ultimately much more at ease than before.

You choose to not address the moment in your peripheral vision when you see Jungkook gnawing on some bloody gristle that he trimmed off the steak, his brows set in dissatisfaction as he tries to replace some of the nutrients he’s craving.

He’s thirstier than he’s admitting, you know, but you are trying to loosen the tight hold of control you are tempted to have.

“Hey,” you say as you load your dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

Jungkook, who is reading the beer founder’s story on the back of your empty can, perks up, curious.

“Do you want to open your present?” you ask, and can’t help but laugh at the way his face lights up at the suggestion.

“Oh my god, yes! I've been dying to know what it is since Christmas!” He beams, and before you can even move to go get it from under your bed, he’s gone, shuffling around down the hallway and cooing to Buttercup, who has just finished her own dinner.

When he reappears, he puts the gift on the counter and looks at you sheepishly.

“Um,” he says, and you can tell he’s desperately trying to be polite and well behaved like a small child on their birthday.

You snort. “Open it, bunny.”

Jungkook rips right into the paper, his jaw dropping. “You! This?”

You watch as he takes off into the living room to disassemble the current turntable setup.

“Goodbye Old Play, Fall Down Boy, and Alicia Broken Piano Keys,” he sing-songs. “Damn, when was the last time we had music around here?”

You watch him putter around.

This, you think, could be a good life.

Lying in bed, you drift between a dreamstate and your overactive brain trying to process your reality. Thoughts of your job, more specifically what you’ll do if you actually are fired filter through your head. You suppose you’d change careers, but this job has always been the one thing you wanted in life, at least before you had Jungkook.

Between a body heat barrier of blankets and pillows, you toss yourself around and sigh, finally coming to a state of being fully awake. Jungkook shifts across the pile to alert you that he, too, is awake.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks gruffly, and you grunt as you roll over.

“Can’t sleep,” you whine, and you move one of the pillows shoved between the two of you out of the way so you can see his face in the dark.

The soft glow of the outside city lights shifts through the window, casting a hint of pale blue light across his face. Like this, he looks more wan, sallow, and your heart wrenches. God, it’s so hard to see him this way, starving himself, and you know you shouldn’t feel guilty, but with the day behind you, you feel the late-night flood of regret starting to taint your mind as you try to figure out how you let this all go so horribly wrong.

“Busy mind?” He asks, and you blink up at him, a little surprised by how it seems as though he’s reading your thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” he grumbles, and then reaches out to pull you into him, his cold hands in an even colder room sending a tremor through your body.

“God, I’m sorry,” he says, and you clench your teeth.

“ s’okay” you mumble, and you push your face into his chest to warm your nose in his hoodie, throwing your leg over him to bring you closer.

Jungkook gently rubs your back, his touch light as his fingers trace up and down your spine. It tingles, sending a shiver that hardens your nipples.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks after a long pause.

You could lie, and then you wouldn’t have to worry that Jungkook would be awake all night carrying your baggage for you. But, you know how important this step of honesty is, so you take a deep breath.

“I-I just keep thinking about work. What’s going to happen? I don’t regret it, please don’t think I do or misunderstand. But I love my job. I love you more. It just feels all convoluted and scary. If I get fired, how will we afford this apartment? Find your blood?”

You feel Jungkook take a steep inhale, and you know he’s doing this to steady you, that his lungs don’t really need to expand but to breathe next to him, with him, is what feels the most natural to you both.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he says, and you fight the urge to cry for the third time today.

“I know it’ll be okay,” you assure him, “but I’m sad anyway.”

His fingers continue to strum along your spine, soothing you in the quiet winter night. At some point Buttercup gets up to go prowl around the apartment in her usual late-night zoomies, leaving you two alone in your little universe.

“I’ve been thinking a lot tonight, too,” Jungkook mumbles into the dark.

“About what,” you whisper. The wind outside kicks up, and you feel a sharp draft cut against your now-bare legs, beading you with goosebumps that make you shiver.

Jungkook tuts, shifting you to his side momentarily so he can reach down and pull up your thick duvet. You relish the return to warmth and lay back down on him, resting your head onto his chest while letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Feeding,” he says casually, but you can still hear the hunger in the word as he pronounces every syllable sharply. A different kind of tremor rocks through you, and you feel a tug of arousal behind your belly button.

“Oh,” you say, trying to be unaffected, but Jungkook sees right through you and chuckles.

“The first time I tasted your blood, you don’t even know what it did to me, Y/N,” he groans.

“It felt like every single dead neuron in my body was firing all at once again. I’ve never experienced anything like it. You were so warm, your blood was so thick on my tongue. I knew I was going to crave you for the rest of my, well I guess, existence.”

You squirm a little, trying to ignore the slight dampness you feel forming between your legs.

“Then, god, I thought I was going crazy when you were feeding me those blood packs. That I had wanted the taste of you so badly that I was imagining it somehow from knowing the way you smell.”

He continues. “I know I told you that I have control, but fuck, baby, you almost destroyed me with that little stunt of yours.”

Jungkook shifts, and you can feel his hardening length brush against your stomach. His thigh butts up against you, and you know he can feel the effect he’s having on you.

“How?” you ask weakly, and Jungkook flexes his thigh underneath you, putting a little pressure right onto your clit. The whine you’ve been suppressing escapes, needy and rich.

“I almost caved. One night while you were sleeping, Thought about waking you up by fucking you with my tongue so I could finally taste you again.” Jungkook’s cock twitches underneath you and you rut against him in response, the heat in your core building. “Shit, you were even sleeping with your legs wide open for me, your panties and those tiny fucking things you call pajamas shifted and your pretty little pussy was right there for me to taste. Practically begging me for it.”

You rock against Jungkook’s thigh, the broad grind of your wet panties against Jungkook’s thigh releasing some of the tension.

“Oh,” you moan softly, but Jungkook isn’t done talking, and he ignores you as his hands come up to your ass, his cold touch on your cheeks causing you to squeak as he pulls them apart to force you to rut harder, deeper onto him.

“I can smell you right now,” he says roughly. “You can’t hide it from me, you know. Your blood, your wet pussy, they’re equally delicious to me. Equally mine.”

You moan as he forces you back and forth on his thigh. “You like that, don’t you? The idea of me devouring you like that? Waking you up with my mouth swirling around that hard clit, have you drooling and begging for my cock before you even know what day it is?”

“Shit, yes. Yes,” you pant, and Jungkook laughs, grasping your panties with his fingers and pulling tight. The fabric shifts, digging onto your swollen clit, blurring your vision from the sharp, deep wail.

“Such a dirty fucking girl, humping me like this. Letting me use you like this. What happened to my good girl, hm? Where’d my baby go?”

You know the question is rhetorical, but you find yourself entering the familiar, delicious haze you often go to with Jungkook, one that has been trained to answer every question he asks.

“Still your baby,” you whine, and Jungkook laughs.

He reaches down, tearing your panties off of your body with a single tug, exposing your wet pussy to the chill of the air.

“Oh really? You’re my baby? I don’t know about that. My baby usually has her mouth around my cock by now.”

Obediently, sit up, tugging your shirt over your head, your nipples hard and sensitive from your arousal. Jungkook groans as he takes in the view of your naked body, but before he can act, you hastily strip him of his hoodie and shorts to reveal his naked length.

Jungkook’s cock stands tall and heavy, and as you take it into your hands, you don’t mention how that, too, has become incredibly cold from his thirst. Maybe this hunger could be soothing in summer, but in midwinter, it is going to drive you insane.

You pull him into your mouth, determined to imprint some of your body heat onto him as you dribble your warm saliva down his shaft with a deep suck.

Jungkook moans above you, tangling his fingers into your hair in approval.

“Fuck, yes, Y/N. God.”

You use one of your hands to cup his balls, enjoying the heft of how full they are before stroking up and down the parts of his cock that you can’t take into your mouth.

“There she is,” Jungkook sighs, and you relax your jaw so you can take more of him in, edging his tip down your throat. He bucks up, and you gag, feeling the familiar tang of him spread across your tongue. Globs of saliva bubble out of your mouth as you attempt to fight the urge to gag more from his occasional thrusts.

“There’s my baby. My little cockslut. Fuck, I missed this.” You hum in agreement and Jungkook gasps at the vibration. He grabs your head, stopping you from bobbing.

“Shit…fuck baby, hold on. Stop. God, I almost just came,” he laughs, and your lips twitch as you slowly pull away from him, strings of spit still connecting you to his thick cock.

You look up at him as he steadies himself, smiling up at him devilishly.

Feeling naughty, you lean forward, testing the waters as you tongue around the head, taking one final, deep suck. Jungkook’s eyes darken in warning and you giggle, sitting back on your heels as you smile at him with fake innocence.

“Brat,” he mutters, and shoves you down onto the bed, his lips on yours before you can even breathe, tasting himself in the corners of your mouth with feral need.

He pulls away, tapping your knees with instruction to open, and you do, propping your head up on a pillow so you can see everything.

The curve of his nose rocks against your clitoris as he begins, and because Jungkook knows you so well, his hands clamp down on your legs to prevent you from squirming. You feel him dig one hand into your thigh, a warning not to try to take control, and you force yourself to relax as he begins exploring you, sucking one of your swollen labia into his mouth.

You groan, the slow method of him licking and sucking, moving down and up between the inner corners of your thighs back to your center feels both like heaven and absolute hell.

You have the urge to whine, to shove your hips up, maybe your neglected clit will get more attention, but you know better. Jungkook is testing you, trusting you in this moment not to fail him.

His eyes meet yours as feasts, the bruises under his eyes more dark now than they were earlier. Between the maddening, erotic swishes of his tongue against your clitoral hood and smug look on his face, you’ve had just about enough.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to play with your food,” you snap, and surprised, Jungkook pulls back, his wet cheeks and wide smirk indicating how satisfied he is with his torture.

“No,” he says, licking his lips. His fangs peek out from under his lips. “But I think my food really likes it when she has to work for it.”

You roll your eyes, and he brings his fingers to your clit, pinching it. You gasp.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” He scolds, and again you lose the urge to disobey.

You feign an apologetic look and buck your hips at him.

“Such a fucking bad girl today,” he chides. “If you’re not careful, I won’t let you cum. I’ll just use you like my little cumdump and you’ll have to figure out how to get off on your own.”

You shudder at his words and his shoulders straighten, satisfied with his apparent win.

“What do you say?” he asks, tracing one finger along your ridges.

You feel yourself trembling as his soft touch swirls around where you need it most, a frustrating, dizzy fury building in you.

“Jungkook, please.”

“That’s not the word I’m looking for.” His voice is dark, heavy in the cold of the room. Desperation is blinding you, only allowing you to think in fragmented sentences.

“I don’t know,” you whine, and you feel a hard slap hit directly onto your clit, sending a shock of pain and delicious pleasure through your body.

“Liar,” he snorts, and then rubs your wetness to soothe the ache. “You have a big girl brain, Y/N. I know you know what you need to say.” He dips a finger inside of you, you clench. “Or are you already too fucked out and needy to say it?”

Heat shades your face in embarrassment. Any other day, maybe, you’d challenge this, let him chip away at you until you are babbling and a mess underneath him. But the swell of heat in your core is pulsing what feels like everywhere in your body, including your head, and you rack your brain for the one word you know he’s looking for.

You pull a sharp breath between your teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“Good girl, I knew you could do it,” he says, and then he shoves his face into your cunt, more fingers dipping into your entrance. He begins to stretch you, pulling his fingers apart, urging more of your wetness to spill onto his tongue. “So sweet.”

Your hips twitch in the air and you fight to keep them down now that one side of you is freed, so you concentrate on him, pushing his hair back from his forehead as he devours you.

Jungkook’s eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide. And in them you see something more than just lust.

I’m thirsty, he’s telling you, the lines faint, but still there. He sucks hard onto your clit, a low sound tearing through his throat.

He’s asking you for permission, grazing his fangs along your inner lips, trying desperately to restrain himself as the hand still wrapped around your thigh tightens with a bruise-inducing pressure.

Then eat, tell him mentally, your tongue darting out of your mouth to lip your lips as you watch him get lost in his instincts. You hum your approval, thrusting your hips forward and shoving his head further into you.

“Yes,” you rasp, finding enough air in your lungs to puff out your consent.

Jungkook moans and you watch the resolve break as he delivers one final satisfying lap over your clit before he bites.

Nothing In your life could ever prepare you for this.

That part of you, the very organ having the most nerve endings, is alive and electric, burning hot as if you are the sun, the center of the universe. And Jungkook is orbiting around you, grounded by the gravity of your blood as he feeds from your pussy, groaning and bucking his hips in pleasure against the bed. A whimper churns from the depths of your throat as you writhe under him. The heat, god it’s everywhere, from the slight sting of the bite melting away from your core to the heady, steady throb of your clit that makes you feel your pulse everywhere.

Jungkook too, is warming underneath you, the chill of his body flushing away with each feverish gulp he takes. His cheeks are slightly pink again.

“So wet, so good,” he praises you as he swallows, and you see the blood smearing across his cheeks as he dips back into you.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you say shakily. His tattooed hand leaves your thigh, reaches up, searching for you in his feast. You don’t hesitate to lace it with yours, your hands a little clammy, but you’re afraid that if you don’t hold on to him, you might be lost among the stars.

He drags one of his fangs along the edge of your clitoral hood, and flicks your swollen bud with his tongue, self assured in your destruction. Your legs begin to close, but he growls.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he warns. His fingers press deeper inside you, thrusting toward the burning in your core that feels like it’s just out of reach. “You asked for this, now take it.”

“I can’t,” you say. “I can’t.” You thrash your head to the side, gaze unfocused as you take in the shapes around your bedroom you know once were pieces of furniture, but the combination of blood loss and building ecstasy has you feeling like you’re almost drifting from your body.

Jungkook clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction. “Look at me, Y/N,” he demands.

You force your eyes to him, and he instructs you to take a deep breath. You inhale shakily, letting him come into focus.

“You’re going to take my tongue. And then you’re going to take my fingers until you cum all over my face.” He makes his threat official, presses deep inside of you, thrusting deeper, toward the burning in your core that feels just out of reach. “And then you’re going to take my fat cock into my pretty little pussy and watch the cum drip out of it after I fuck you full of it, do you understand me?”

You tremble as he claims you. “Yes,” you reply and he leans in closer, thrusting his fingers in harder as you rock your hips toward him.

“Good,” he says. “Then give me what’s mine.” You feel him nip into you again, throwing you over with one deep suck.

You cry out, your hips twitching into the cold room, heaving deep broken gasps into your lungs, head spinning as you obey him. Your ears ring as you fall deeper under the wave, but you still feel Jungkook’s hand in yours, tender and encouraging as you force yourself back from beneath the current of your orgasm.

You try to steady your breath as you feel his drinking slow, his tongue placing a few laps here and there around your vulva in a gentle motion as he pulls himself away.

“Are you okay,” you hear him ask, though your eyes are trained on the ceiling as you try to stop yourself from seeing double. “Did I take too much?”

You’re not sure, to be honest, but you feel the warmth of Jungkook’s body cover you as he looks you over, feeling your pulse.

“Your heart is starting to slow down,” he says softly. “Can I leave you for a second to get some water?”

You make some kind of grunt of approval, and you feel him drape your covers back over you as he pads down the hall to sift through the kitchen.

He returns only a few moments later, a bottle of water and bag of heart shaped chocolates in hand.

You take the water from him and sip slowly, feeling the cool liquid soothing your hoarse throat, stabilizing you. You pop a chocolate into your mouth, the sugars melting your tongue tasting decadent.

When you finally glance over at Jungkook, you erupt into laughter.

“What?” he asks, his doe eyes going wide with panic. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

You fail to collect yourself, wheezing your breaths as tears burn your eyes. Maybe you did lose a bit too much blood, because it shouldn’t be as funny as it is, but he looks so full and flushed and innocent in light of what might just be the kinkiest thing the two of you have ever done.

His face is an utter mess, cheeks shiny and smeared with the faint pink of your mixed juices and blood. He looks like a child who just ate a cherry flavored popsicle.

“I-go look in the mirror,” you say between fits of laughter, and Jungkook looks at you confused before he obeys, standing and walking over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.

“Oh shit,” he mumbles, then laughs. “Looks like I was saving myself a snack for later.” He reaches for a tissue from on top of his dresser and wipes his mouth.

“How can you not feel that all over you?” you ask, coughing when you finally recover.

“I don’t know! My brain isn’t focused on anything else right now but you! Well, you and…” he gestures down between his legs, where his cock is flushed from the blood, twitching as you give it attention.

You feel a flutter in your core and let out a soft gasp.

“But really, are you okay?” he asks tenderly, sitting back onto the bed and rubbing your thigh.

You scan over your body, checking in with yourself. You don’t feel woozy or nauseous, just loose, like how most large scale orgasms feel. Your thigh you know will be bruised tomorrow, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. And your clit, oh.

Your clit is tingling, and your pussy is dripping wet.

“Fuck,” you moan, and run your hand down between your legs and press your palm to your clit, enjoying the added pressure as it throbs under your touch.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, interested in your response.

You swipe your fingers through your folds and then pull them up. Surprisingly, the liquid is clear, meaning you’re not bleeding. Meaning that this dripping want is coming solely from you.

“What did you do to me?” You ask, and Jungkook’s eyes flash with worry as he moves closer, pulling your thighs open to inspect you.

“I hurt you?” he asks, panicking as he misunderstands. “God, I’m sorry Y/N.”

“No, no, baby, not like that,” you say, and you feel his hands fall from you as he moves to look at your face.

He scrunches his nose in confusion. “Then what–.”

“My pussy is tingling, and fuck look at me. I’m drenched.”

His eyes blow wide and he dips to look back down, his tongue darting out over his lip piercings as he takes in the liquid spilling out of you and onto the sheets underneath.

“Shit. I don’t know. Maybe my venom does that? I don’t even see a cut on you from where I bit.”

He sits back on his legs and his hand finds his cock, squeezing the base as he flits between looking at you and in between your legs.

You clench around nothing and a low, tortured moan escapes from his throat as he draws his hand up the base, wrist flicking to pump himself up and down in slow, delicious tugs.

“Y/N,” he says, and the way he says your name is dripping with need. You feel his eyes burn into every inch of you as he touches himself, causing you to mimic the fluidity of his strokes as you rub your clit.

“Please,” you respond.

“Cum for me again,” he demands but you shake your head.

“Don’t want to like this,” you say. “Want your cock in me. You promised you would let me watch your cum spill out of your pretty pussy, remember?”

His nostrils flare, and Jungkook jolts, flipping you over on the bed so you rest on top of him, his hard cock smearing with your wetness as he rocks your hips against him.

“We need to do something about that filthy mouth of yours,” he says, and you pant as you grind against him with broad movements, coating him with your juices. “The only time you haven’t said something bratty today was when my cock was down your throat.”

You moan, raising your hips off of his and taking his cock in hand. “You love it,” you say, and sink yourself down onto his cock in one solid motion, his thick length stretching and filling you to the brim.

He hisses and you begin to bounce, using him to curb some of the ache in your core.

He reaches up and wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing. You squeak, feeling him pull you off of his cock, and leaving you devastatingly empty.

“Did I say you could fuck me?”

You whine and he scoffs. “Maybe you don’t deserve my cum after all. Disobeying me like this. I told you earlier I wondered where my good girl went, and I think I was right. Didn’t know I traded her in for a disrespectful bitch.”

You feel your stomach flip with excitement at the new term and you clench around him.

He laughs. “Oh? You like that, hmm? Well, if I traded away my good girl, I better see how much of a whore her replacement is.”

He lightens his grip on your neck and the oxygen floods back, making your fingertips and nipples prickle with the heightened sensation.

“Well? Get to it, slut.” and he takes your hips, slamming you back down onto his cock with one single stroke.

“FUCK,” you scream, and your hips buck, overstimulated as Jungkook doesn’t even give you the chance to have control, his hands clamping down on your sides as his fucks you onto him.

“That’s it,” he rasps. “That’s it, take my cock like a good little slut.”

You cry out, clamping your arms around him and pulling his face into your neck.

“Jungkook,” you say, and he grunts in response, pounding into you with a rhythm so that when you come down, he pushes up, hitting you deeper with each thrust.

“You like that, huh? Being like little fleshlight? Me using you like this to fuck all my cum into?”

You clench around him, slightly light headed from where he’s targeting you, trying to hit your g-spot dead on.

It’s so good, so primal, and you know you’re almost there, but you need something more.

“Please,” you whisper, shoving his head into your neck. “Bite me.”

And that’s when you feel it, the tiny prick of his fangs as Jungkook pierces your skin and begins to feed.

Sharp cold pleasure is immediately replaced with a silky, scorching wave of pleasure as his venom delivers that addicting tingle through your neck.

Jungkook, too, seems to be affected, his cock twitches in you as the blood fills his body, somehow making him feel thicker and a little longer.

“Oh,” you gasp as you feel the fingers of one of Jungkook’s hands reach down to your clit, rubbing it hard and fast.

He detaches himself from your neck and laps up the excess blood before he holds you steady and adjusts your position, placing you on your back as he hovers above you.

The cloudiness in his eyes is gone, the markings underneath have faded. He settles into slow, deep strokes, his eyes ghosting over your body.

“I love you,” he says. Your heart swells.

“I love you too,” you respond, and you look down at where the two of you are connected, your pussy making a vulgar squelching sound as he drags himself in and out, his cockhead glossy.

“More,” you beg. “Please I’m so close”. He obeys, picks up his pace.

He bends over you, pulling a nipple into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.

“Should I bite you here next?” he mumbles and you squirm in delight.

Each thrust is now jutting Jungkook right against your cervix, and you feel the wet mess of your pussy trying and failing to take more of his cock inside, relishing the warmth that now reaches every corner of you.

As you flutter around him, the mounting tension drawing you closer to orgasm, Jungkook dips down again, this time laving over your nipple, plucking it between his teeth and delivering a soft bite.

This sends you over the edge, a stream of white hot pleasure rocketing through your core as you gasp on top of him, your pussy clamping down and trying desperately to take him with you.

But Jungkook has better control than that, and instead of letting you rest, he sets a deadly, relentless pace, fucking you into overstimulation.

“One more,” he breathes between thrusts.

“Hurts,” you pout, but he knows you. Knows your limit.

“One more. I know your messy little cunt can take more than this, baby.”

He spreads you wider, hooking your legs back so he's deeper in you than before, the wet slap of his balls against your pussy echoing through your bedroom as you are coated with your wetness.

You groan and he keeps going, his fingers ghosting over your clit once but not staying. You huff in frustration.

“Words,” Jungkook demands and you take a deep breath, trying to rack your brain for something other than moans.

“Yeah,” is all you can manage, and with a dark laugh, he accepts it, placing his fingers back on your clit and finally, finally putting you back on track.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he utters, and this is how you know he’s getting close. The praise flowing from his mouth betrays his cold, dominating facade. “Such a warm, wet pussy. Just for me to fuck my cum into.” He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on his lip rings.

You moan, matching his thrusts with your hips, slamming yourself together harder, deeper. “God, Jungkook, please.”

“You gonna be good for me this time?” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. The tone of his voice is slightly higher, straining. “Gonna let me fill you up?”

“Yes,” you pant. “I need it.” His fingers circle faster, desperately working to make you cum before him. “Need to be full of your cum.”

You pull him into you, needing him closer, needing to feel the distance between your bodies to be smaller as you get closer. His fingers keep working, his thrusts hard and deep, hitting you exactly where you need it.

“Right there. Fuck your pussy, Jungkook. Take what’s yours.”

His hips falter. You place your teeth onto his neck and bite. Hard.

“Fuck,” Jungkook moans and erupts, his cock twitching as he spurts load after load of warm cum into you, giving you the last bit you need to send you off one last time. Your pussy spasms, greedily taking in everything he gives you.

“That’s it, baby,” he says, his voice shaky as he continues to anchor both of you to your bodies, to the sensation of being full and satisfied.

He kisses your temple, then your cheek, rocking his hips slowly against you as you come down, flushed and overwhelmed.

You feel almost weightless, untethered to the joints in your arms and legs. If you weren’t being held by him right now, you might think you were out in space, floating around without gravity. In the haze of it all, you feel Jungkook shift you onto your side, his body still linked to yours as his erection deflates, cum leaking onto the bedding below you.

You don’t care enough to do anything about it, instead clinging to his forearm, needing to feel him everywhere so you don’t disappear.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he says, and you’re confused by this, and then you realize you’re crying, wet tears stinging your cheeks as you shake against him. He runs his hands through your hair and down the length of your back softly. “I got you.”

You breathe a shaky breath as he wraps the blankets around the two of you, gently humming a song, sighing when he feels you wiggle your toes next to him and finally steady yourself.

You look up at him and he’s smiling softly, his eyes warm and brown like they were when you first met him.

“That was intense, huh?” he asks and you nod.

“But really good,” you add and he beams.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I…”

He sits thoughtfully for a moment and you let him, trying to gain the courage to detach yourself and venture into the cold apartment to pee.

“I wish we did that sooner. I mean, I guess I should ask how that was for you. For me to, you know, feed from you.”

You wince as you shift away from him, feeling him slip out of you as you leak onto the sheets. Your sticky, damp legs beg for a shower, but you ignore it.

“I…it was a lot. But…but I liked it. The first bite, shit. You explained earlier how it felt when you first tasted my blood? About it being like how everything fired off in your body at once, right?” He nods. “It was like that for me, too.”

Jungkook smiles, pulling you in tightly against him.

“Do you think we can do that more often?” you ask shyly, and he laughs.

“Damn, once is all it takes for you to get addicted?”

You smack his arm. “Hey! No kink shaming! I didn’t judge you for wanting to go down on me during my period! While I was asleep!”

He sputters. “I’m not kink shaming! But you sound like you’re judging me now for it! We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to I’m sorry but I was caught up in the moment and the bloodlust and I was–”

You choke out a laugh, kissing him on his bare chest. “I’m teasing you...it sounds kind of hot actually.”

He hums in approval.

“I think we still have a lot of stuff to talk about,” he says after a pause. You sigh.

“Yeah. The great job reckoning is coming.”

“Yes, and not just that. I do want to talk more about you…your body. The…infertility thing. I want to go with you to the appointment, I mean if that’s okay? Even if everything is fine, or that you don’t end up wanting kids or whatever, I just want to be there for you through any of it, okay?”

You bristle a bit, feeling yourself starting to cry again. But after the day you’ve had, the intense, passionate sex, all of the things you will still be dealing with in the morning, you let the release guide you as your tears fall.

“Okay,” you say. You think about your conversations with Jungkook today, how he’s right. There are so many things you both don’t know about what you want or don’t want, about your own bodies.

“Um,” you say, and you pull back from him, rubbing up and down his forearms. “I want you to know something, too. I know that being a vampire wasn’t really in your life plans, and that there’s a lot of unknowns about it too. Not just about fertility, but like, it would have probably been nice for you to know you had magical tingly, healing venom that turns you into a sex god.”

“Hey! Was I not a sex god without the venom?” He scoffs, pretending to be offended.

You snort. “Okay fine, healing venom that turns you from a sex god to even more of a sex god. But you know what I mean. There are things that would be so helpful for you to know. To maybe take away some of the worry and those terrifying unknowns. And if you ever want to know, if you want to try to find your creator, I’ll support you in that choice. It would be hard, and maybe we wouldn’t find him, but I’m with you in this.”

Jungkook takes your cheek in his hand, his warm thumb rubbing across the skin.

“Thank you,” he says, and leans in to give you a soft kiss.

The world outside plunges deeper into the night, and after you clean yourselves up and change the sheets, you lie closely against each other. So many things remain unknown, but one thing you’re sure of as you watch Jungkook sleep: you have time to figure it all out.

ending a/n:

Thank you again for reading! While doing research about blood donations for this story, I was reminded that there’s currently a national shortage for blood donors in the US, and it’s safe to assume that this isn’t unique to just us. Right now, with the ongoing genocide in Gaza, blood shortages are extreme, and with the stonewalling happening preventing aid to enter the strip and Rafah, supplies, including blood for life saving transfusions, cannot make it through.

The Red Crescent/American Red Cross issued this statement in January:

“During emergencies, the American Red Cross will ship blood products outside of the U.S. following a specific request from the U. S. State Department for U.S. citizens overseas, at the request of the United Nations, or at the request of the affected Red Cross or Red Crescent society abroad. We have not received blood product requests for Israel or Gaza at this time.

For those interested in learning more about international humanitarian law and its vital role in protecting the innocent during armed conflict, please visit www.redcross.org/ihl. The American Red Cross has a duty to fulfill the Geneva Conventions’ purpose of reducing suffering during armed conflict. As part of our duty, the American Red Cross leads the effort to ensure Americans are informed of these laws and the humanitarian principles they reflect.”

While it’s not yet being asked for, I cannot recommend enough donating blood if you are eligible. There are many different qualifications for blood donations (if you’re not sure about your eligibility, please look at your Red Cross/Crescent website depending on your country). Your donation can help not just your local communities, but ultimately a population of people you might be unsure how to help. And if not, monetary donations are also accepted.

I’m not affiliated with this organization in any way, but I felt like it would be wrong to ignore this issue just in favor of a fun fanfic.

#bts smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #vampire jungkook #bts fanfic

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nycbaby21 · 8 months

Text

"I really hope so."

*ends in a cliffhanger, if you guys want I can write more*

prompt: "Where do we go from here?" & "You tell me."

word count: 3,038

Rapid knocking woke me up this morning around three. In the moment I can’t tell which is louder the knocking or my heartbeat. I slowly and quietly tiptoe over to the front door to look through the peephole. As I pass the closet I grab a hockey stick Mat left me “for protection.” I argued it wouldn’t protect me much, but he wouldn’t stop until I took it. I see the hockey players outside the door soaking wet. I open the door and grab him pulling him into the house. “Barzy what the hell are you doing,” I ask voice slightly raised from the panic still coursing through me. He looks down at me to answer but his eyes drift to the hockey stick in my hand.

“Thought it wasn’t going to protect you,” he tried to joke but I could tell something was bothering him. I poke him with it while he lets out a small laugh and throws it on the couch behind us. The small joy he just had is gone and his eyes fill with tears. “She left me again,” his voice cracked and the dam behind his eyes broke. Tears began to mix with the leftover raindrops on his face. “Oh Barzy,” I say throwing my arms around him. He buries his head in my neck and squeezes my waist. I run my fingers through his dark locks, occasionally smoothing out a small knot. His body shook as he cried. I just stood there holding him, only letting go when he did.

“C’mon let’s get you out of these wet clothes,” I whisper slipping my hand into his and pulling him towards my bedroom. He sat on the edge of my bed while I searched through my closet for clothes of his I had stolen over the years. I pull out an old Islanders shirt and some sweatpants and pass them to him. “I looked everywhere for this stupid shirt. I should have known you had it,” he laughed going to the ensuite bathroom to change. “That and about six more,” I say pulling back the sheets and throwing the top blanket I had for the cold off. Mat was a space heater and very cuddly when he was upset. So if we slept with that on we would both wake up sweating.

Mat walks out and sees you fixing up the bed and just stops and watches you. He is so grateful to have you as his best friend. There weren’t many people who would be so kind and loving towards him when he woke you up banging on the door at three in the morning. I look up and just see him staring. “Stop being weird you dork,” I laugh tossing a pillow at him. He shakes his head and walks over to the side of the bed I was standing on. “Did you want this side,” I ask confused because he always sleeps on the other side. He just wraps his arms around me and whispers “thank you” into my hair. I take in a deep breath and hum in acknowledgement rubbing my hands up and down his back.

When the two of us finally got into bed and settled down, my brain started to drift off. I had known Mat for about four years now and we had gone through a whole lot together. Every time I thought something would break us and make us drift apart, it only ever brought us closer. I don’t really remember when the lines started to blur between friendship and more to me. But as I am laying here next to him, I can’t help wishing it could always be like this. My thoughts were interrupted by Mat,” Thanks again for everything Y/n. You’re a really good friend.” I never knew one word could make me feel so sick.

I rolled over at ten o’clock and sighed turning over to see the bed empty. Worried Mat had done something stupid, I rushed out of my room and searched the house for him. I stopped when I heard a soft voice coming from the kitchen. “Yes I am aware that I’m not at home,” I hear him say to whoever is on the end of the call. I peeked around the corner and see Mat standing against the island rubbing his face. “Of course, I came here. She is my best friend,” he raised his voice only a little assuming I was still asleep. I could hear her voice now, the ex-girlfriend who hated me.

We didn’t start out on the right foot and there was never really any going back from that. She cornered me at a team party and told me to back off of Mat because he wanted someone beautiful like her and not me. Safe to say I didn’t care for her too much after that. I was always friendly for Mat’s sake because he was truly happy and she was really nice to everyone else. So I held my tongue and tried to coexist.

“Don’t talk about her like that. She is the only reason I am still holding it together right now. Yes, it is fair. You promised after the last time you would stop talking to him and you didn’t. So don’t make me the bad guy here for calling you out on it.” I could hear her getting louder and he cut her off,” it isn’t the same. You dated him, you slept with him, you loved him. She is nothing more than my best friend okay,” his voice raised to match hers. His words hit me like a bullet. I tried to turn around and go back to my room, not trying to hear anything else to break my heart more. I bumped into a shelf I had in the hallway with my pinky toe.

I let out a few colorful words and dropped down to the floor. I hear footsteps and Mat is quickly down on the floor with me looking me over. He finally sees me holding my foot and gently moves my hand to try and get a better look at it. I couldn’t really see much through my blurred vision thanks to the tears. At least I can play them off as physical pain now and not emotional pain. “Shh it’s okay, I got you,” he said holding me. He repositioned us and carried me over to the couch. He left and came back with a bag of frozen vegetables.

He carefully placed them on my foot and looked up at me. “You okay,” he whispered. I shook my head yes and gave him the best fake smile I could. Apparently I had gotten pretty good at them over the years because he nodded and rubbed my calf. He brought me some pain meds and a glass of water. “You sure you don’t need anything,” he asks looking all over my face. I shake my head no. “Okay so what are we watching,” he says getting comfortable on the couch. I sigh wishing I could get sucked into a black hole at this very moment. “I don’t know Barzy, whatever you want,” I say looking at the TV and not him.

“Okay so you’re cool if I put on game highlights,” he asks already queueing them up. “Yeah that sounds fine,” there is no emotion in my voice. “Okay, I know you aren’t fine now. You hate watching highlights with me. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it,” he scoots closer to me and puts his hand on my knee. I tense up under it and his face drops. “Did I do something,” he asks voice filled with fear and confusion. “No you didn’t do anything. I told you I was fine Mat,” I hugh off already tired of pretending my heart hadn’t shattered five minutes ago. I knew it wasn’t his fault, you can’t help who you are attracted to. I know I shouldn’t take it out on him, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care at that moment.

“Mat,” his voice breaks a little and he gives me a weird look,” You never call me Mat. Y/n please talk to me.” I shake my head tears falling down my face again. He tries to wrap his arms around me and I shrug him off. “I really can’t do this right now okay,” I cry standing up and trying to walk away but the pain in my toe sends shock waves throughout my body. “No, you can’t just walk away. We promised to always tell each other everything, remember? So tell me what I can do to fix it,” he says moving to stand in front of me blocking my way around him to leave. I look up at him and I can see water brimming in the bottom of his eyes. “You can’t fix it. Okay, no one can. So please drop it,” I say dropping back onto the couch.

“How do you know that? You can’t know that unless you tell me,” I can hear the aggravation in his voice. “Please don’t make me do this okay,” I whisper pleading with him. “Okay I won’t,” he says after looking at me for a minute. He walks towards the couch and squats in front of me. “But if won’t tell me I’m leaving. I’m walking through that door Y/n,” he says sternly and looking into my eyes. I stay quiet and make no move to speak. “You know what forget this,” he says standing up and walking towards the door. “You know I came here last night because you are the only person I trust enough to be this way with. I guess I thought you trusted me enough too,” these were his last words before he walked out of the door.

The last time I saw Mat was two weeks ago after he walked out. I didn’t blame him for doing it, hell I would have done the same thing. I didn’t tell him because I didn’t want to lose him and that’s what I did anyway. I tried to call him and left him a couple text but got nothing in response. The longer I went without seeing him the harder it was. I wasn’t sleeping and was barely eating. The doorbell interrupted my thoughts and I ran to it thinking maybe it was Mat. I threw it open to see an Islanders hockey player, just not the one I had hoped for.

“Well don’t look too disappointed,” Tito said when my face dropped. “Sorry, I just thought maybe, you what nevermind,” I said walking back to the couch and letting him stand at the door deciding if he should come in or not. He sat next to me and looked around my living room. “I mean this with so much love, but sweetheart you look like shit,” his voice is as soft as the look he gives me. I try to speak but no words come out. I just start crying again and he pulls me in. “I know,” he says. Of course he does, he is Mat’s friend way before he is mine. After hearing that I shake him off and move further down the couch. “Hey no. C’mon, we are doing this okay,” he traps me in the corner of the couch and doesn’t let me go.

“You shouldn’t be nice to me. I hurt your best friend, you should hate me,” I choke out through my sobs. “Sweetheart you are my best friend too. Just because I see him more doesn’t mean I love you any less. And I know you would never hurt anyone on purpose, Barzy most of all. So I know you had a reason,” he looks at me waiting for some kind of sign. I nod my head yes and look up at him. “Okay wanna tell me why,” he asks quietly. I shake my head no. “Okay, you don’t have to tell me. But I will tell you this, two of my favorite people in the whole world are hurting right now. And if I can help even just a little bit I want to,” Tito had always had the biggest heart.

“You can’t tell him. I mean it Tito, not a signal word,” I say before taking a deep breath. “Promise,” he nods looking at me waiting. “I’m in love with him, Tito. And I have been for a while now. And he shows up here all sad about the breakup. I always have to help him when some girl breaks his heart. He always comes to me for comfort and cuddles and I give it to him every damn time. I kept thinking one day he would see me, as more than just a friend,” I start and finally look over at him to gauge his reaction. He is calm and just reaches down and grabs my hand,” I heard him walking to her the next morning. I guess he was talking to her ex again and that’s why they broke up again. She said something about him running to me and he said it was different. She dated, slept with, and loved him and I was just a friend. That’s all I will ever be to him. I tried to run back to my room and hurt my stupid foot and I was so mean to him. He needed a friend but I don’t know if I can be that anymore.” After that whole long rant, I broke down again and sobbed.

He held me for what felt like hours. I finally cried myself to sleep on his shoulder. He sat right there and let me. I woke up and it was dark outside, the only light coming from the TV. “Shit is that too loud. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says turning it down. “No, it’s fine. You didn’t wake me up,” My voice was scratchy from all the crying. He looked down at me and smiled. “I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered bumping my shoulder with his. “I love you too. Thanks for not only being his friend but mine too,” I smile leaning back into him. “Always. Plus you smell way better than him. Well, usually not right now because wow,” he jokes and I hit him in the chest. We both laugh and it was the first time in two weeks I had done that.

Tito finally left and I cleaned up the mess I had piled up for two weeks. I took a shower and actually put on clothes that didn’t have old stains on them. Throwing them into the laundry I found Mat’s clothes from that night. I picked them up and hugged them. I really did miss him. Maybe there was a chance I could still be his friend and not break my own heart in the process. I quickly fold them up and grab my keys heading to my car. I drove to his place and sat there in for a few minutes working up the nerve to go in. His room man recognized me and waved me in. “Missed seeing you around here kid. Think buddy boy has too,” he laughs ushering me to the elevator. “Why’s that,” I ask stepping in after him. “I haven’t seen the boy smile in weeks. Is he okay,” he asks me. “I don’t know, but that’s why I’m here. Checking in on him,” I smile at him when the doors open on the right floor. “Give him my best,” he smiles and the door closes leading him back downstairs.

I took a deep breath and knocked on his door. I waited and waited but I didn’t hear anything so I turned around to leave. “Y/n,” I hear his confused voice behind me. I turned around expecting to see him just as bad as I was, but he looked just like he always did great. “You left these,” I say pushing the clothes towards him. He reaches down and takes them. “That all,” he asks, I can tell he is implying that I am going to talk to him about that morning. I open my mouth to try and speak but nothing comes out. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Goodnight Y/n,” he walks back inside the apartment and goes to close the door. “I’m in love with you,” my words rush out before thinking too much about it.

He freezes in the doorway. His back is still turned but he quit walking. “I have been for a while and hearing you say you didn’t feel the same really hurt me, so I lashed out at you. And that wasn’t fair. But I miss you so freaking much Barzy. I know you don’t love me, which is okay really. If you can move passed it I can too,” I say walking closer to him. He slowly turns around and meets my eyes for the first time tonight.

I look past him into the apartment and something pink catches my eye. I know as soon as I see it what it means. They were back together. She was in there and I was out here looking like an absolute idiot. He follows my gaze and his head snaps back to me. “No. hey Y/n let me explain,” he starts but I shake my head. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me Mat,” I say turning away and start walking back to the elevator. I push the button when I hear his footsteps getting closer.

“Where do we go from here,” he asks as I turn getting on the elevator. “You tell me,” I say. This time he is the one with nothing to say and I am the one leaving. “I’m sorry,” he croaks out tears filling his eyes. I smile shaking my head and letting tears roll down my cheeks. “Don’t be. I’ll be okay, I promise,” I say pushing the lobby button. “What about us? Will we be okay,” he asks sounding like a scared little boy. The doors start to close and I give him one last smile,” I really hope so.”

#nycbaby21works #nhl imagine #ny islanders #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal

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makeyoumine69 · 1 year

Text

Yours to Claim

◥ PAIRING: Sub!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader; Sugar Daddy!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

◥ SUMMARY: To prove his trust in you, Patrick has decided to give you absolute control over him. Only to find out how needy he can be.

◥ WARNINGS: NSFW │porn with feelings, handcuffs, oral (both receiving), face sitting, anal fingering, body worship, cum eating/play, handjobs, masturbation, teasing, edging (kinda), vaginal sex, reversed cowgirl sex position, a lot of creampie, nipple play/tits sucking, Daddy kink, Praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, touch starved baby Patty himself.

◥ WORDCOUNT: 3.3k

◥ SONG REC: Trevor Something - Lovesong🥵

◥ A/N: This song is everything, it makes things to me, so I highly recommend you listen to this song while reading! Many thanks to my dear @tres-spades-hotel for proofreading! 🥰

Hope you like it! *hugs*

◥ LINKS: [Sweet like a Cupcake Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

A sweet scent of aroma candle hit your nose once you entered Patrick’s bedroom, it was enveloping you like a mist, and you couldn’t help but exclaim:

“Can’t believe you are using them.” You kept looking at the candle on his bed table. “I thought you didn’t like my gift … you always don’t.”

Bateman only chuckled, strolling around his bedroom. Soon, you watched him stand near the window as he was definitely reflecting on something. Now, you were pretty sure that his weird behavior was not just your suspicion.

“I really love it, these candles seem to have a relaxing effect,” he smirked, in his casual arrogant way, so sexy and so Patrick. “Cupcake, I have something for you too.”

After saying that, he quickly reached into his bed table and took out two pairs of black leather handcuffs. From seeing them, your heart almost stopped beating.

“W-what are you going to do with that?”

His mysterious laughing only made you even more nervous. “It’s not for you, silly. It’s for me.”

Frowning, you gave him a confused look, stepping backwards slightly.

“Do you remember our talk about trust and control?” Bateman muttered, coming closer with a cocky grin on his face.

“Yes, I do.”

“Good.” Still sneering, Patrick stood face to face with you, fumbling with the handcuffs in his hands. “You probably can’t trust me after all the things that happened.” He pressed a palm against your cheek, and you closed your eyes from the delightful feeling of the warmth his skin was radiating. “And it’s reasonable … but I trust you, because I believe you won’t do me any harm. Am I right, honey?”

You nearly purred from the pleasant sensation as he stroked your chin and you nuzzled against his gentle fingers. “Mmm, yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” Bateman mused before leaning down to leave a passionate kiss on your lips, impelling you to whimper against his mouth as his wet tongue was sliding against yours. “Never in my life have I allowed anyone to do this to me. I want you to know that … besides, you always wanted to have some control over me, huh?”

“Why do you think so?” Panting, you let him press you against his firm body and when he did so, you immediately felt how hard he was, so stony, damn it. “Maybe it’s one of your sneaky tricks?”

“Uh, Cupcake … sometimes you love to struggle, right? You love to be a brat.”

You didn’t even notice being pressed against the doorway to his bedroom; his dark brown eyes were looking right through you, as if they were searching for your hidden, dirty desires. “Now, do you need my help to undress?”

With a cunning smirk, you glided a finger across his sharp cheekbone, crooning: “No, Daddy … if this time I’m in charge here, I want to watch you undressing first.”

Some kind of a muffled groan escaped Patrick’s lips, which were suddenly dry from a high level of arousal. “Mmm, you’re such a tricky little foxy. I like that.”

Breathing sharply, Bateman licked your lips and moved away to his bed as he started to undo his clothes. The way he was doing it was permeated with a pure arrogance and self-confidence, which was not surprising at all, because his body was just a piece of art.

Mesmerized, you watched him remove his suspenders, and unbutton his blue shirt, not breaking eye contact with you. You gasped, as your ravenous gaze was roaming all around his solid torso, his perfect relief was forcing your blood to rush faster in your veins.

“You like that?” He suddenly asked, slowly removing his pants. Obviously, he was expecting your praises.

“Yes, Patrick.” You bit your lower lip, your hands were clutching the thin fabric of your dress. “Can’t wait to touch you, Daddy …”

"Mmm," he growled, and oh God, he sounded so good, so hot. You almost started shaking when you heard him make that noise. When he was down to his Calvin Klein boxers, he sat on the edge of his bed and beckoned you over. "Maybe you can help me with this?" Bateman pointed at his underwear, cupping his groin and rubbing his rock hard dick.

“Maybe,” you gasped and finally moved to his bed. “But first, let me put your suit somewhere safe, I don’t want to listen to your rants about spoiling your expensive clothes.”

Patrick froze in a shock, a pleasant shock, as he watched you take his suit and walk into his living room. He didn't say anything, so you just put his clothes on the back of his white couch, panting heavily and trying your best to calm down - your heart was beating so fast it was probably going to break your chest. You couldn't really believe it was happening … and the thing that frightened you the most was that the feeling of being in control of him turned you on so much. Closing your eyes for a moment, you admitted that helping him with his clothes was an excuse to run away from the bedroom to catch your breath.

"Baby?" His slightly annoyed voice brought you back to reality, so you quickly took off your dress, leaving only the sexy black lingerie he bought you a few days ago.

“I was busy undressing myself.” With a shaky voice, you leaned against the doorway, admiring the view of his muscular body. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”

“Yes, dear.” He tapped the place next to him. “I’m yours to claim.”

Was he actually bluffing to cloud your mind? You couldn’t think about it anyway, as you stepped in his direction, spellbound.

With a slight push, you forced him to lay flat on his back before you got on top of him, petting his tiddies here and there, making his breath heavier. Nervously, you grabbed the handcuffs and insisted:

"Put your hands up, Patty.” You watched him obey and in response you moved your hips, grinding against the arching bulge in his boxers, coaxing a low gasp to fall from his kissable lips. “Mmm-D-Daddy, you’re so needy, I can feel it…”

“Yes, Cupcake.” He tensed under your touch when you cuffed his hands above his head – he certainly didn’t feel comfortable not being in control, because it was making him so vulnerable. But Bateman tried his best to hide it. “You think that’s tight enough?”

“I’m sure.” You cupped his beautiful face and teased him as you drew near to his lips in order to kiss him. At the very last second, you broke away, not giving him a chance. “Keep your legs together.”

Though the handcuffs looked durable you doubted that they would stop him if he got really savage, according to how strong he was. When you finished cuffing him, you looked into his eyes, watching his lips tick – he definitely wanted to say something, something mocking or triggering, but he didn’t.

“Look at you, Daddy.” You slid your palms against his bare chest down to his abs, and then you finally touched his engorged cock, massaging it ever so lightly. “So exposed and cute … mmm–you want me to remove them, right?”

“Ahrgh-yeah.”

It seemed like he was about to crest his high at any second, as you felt his dick twitching in your grasp and you couldn't stop yourself from bowing down to his groin to suck his long shaft through the expensive fabric of his boxers.

“C’mon, pull them down already.”

“Not so fast, Patrick.” You smiled at him, giving his cock a long lick and when you heard him moaning louder, you decided to spare his torments, slowly dragging down his underwear to free his fully erected dick. “Gosh, it’s so big … mmm.” there was no way to resist as you got down and took his leaking tip inside your mouth, swallowing his sweet pre-cum with the whimper of pleasure.

“F-fuck.” He started to fidget around his perfect white sheets whilst his cheeks became notably flushed. “C-Cupcake…”

“You taste so delicious, Daddy…” you mewled before cupping his ass to shove his cock deep inside your throat, that set him completely on fire, his balls tensed intensively so you had to stop your ravenous attack. You didn’t want him to cum yet. “Mmhm-does it feel good?”

Huffing, he nuzzled against the pillows to brush away his already sweated locks. “Too good, baby… go on.”

“Uh, uh,” you refused and teased him again, rubbing against his glistening dick, making your lingerie so wet with the mix of liquids and spreading it along his pubis. “You have no say in that, Daddy …” You continued to roll your hips against his manhood, not pushing too hard, and bent down to his face to help him with his messy hair. As you did so, Patrick tried to reach your lips to plant a kiss on them, but you pulled away and pressed a finger to his mouth, which he obediently took in, sucking it and tasting himself.

Shit, this was turning you on so much, you didn't even realize you were about to fall over the edge, just watching him desperately suckle your finger with his eyes closed and his brows knit together from tension.

"Ahh, you look beautiful when you're so needy," you mused from above as you took your finger out and removed your bra. When you pulled down your panties, Bateman couldn't take his eyes off your dripping pussy as his mouth began to water uncontrollably.

"Let me taste you," he huffed, watching you touch yourself with light strokes. "I'm going to make you feel so good, b-baby." His voice wavered with a carnal urge to touch you, he wanted to tear you apart right here, but now he could only submit, it was his idea after all. "Cupcake, please ... sit on my face."

"Mmm, Daddy, you want this?" You raised yourself up a little to give him a better view of your blushing cunt as you spread your legs wider and rubbed your clit to taunt him even more. "Maybe you just want to watch me touch myself? You always love that ..."

"Jesus." Patrick slumped his head down on the pillow as he couldn't just look at you anymore, his stony cock jerking constantly, especially when you 'accidentally' brushed against it. "Baby, I'm so f-f-fucking close ..."

“I k-know, Daddy.”

“Mmm-hmm, please!”

"Please what?" you repeated, shaking with the impending rapture as you continued to stroke your sensitive little nub, slipping along his thick shaft and watching him writhe beneath you. "Do you want me to make you cum or ... do you w-want to have a taste of me?"

Bateman let out a guttural sound from the friction of your soaked pussy sliding against his beefy shaft. "I ... I want both ..."

"Choose one, Daddy ... and ask me nicely." You gave him the illusion of a choice, but in your mind you already had a plan for what you were going to do next.

"I ... I beg you, mm-ahhg, holy fuck!" He almost screamed as you sat backwards so he could now see your tight hot pussy right in front of his eyes as you sucked his throbbing cock really vigorously and played with his heavy sac.

Almost choking, Patrick tried to get closer to your cunt to at least lick your folds, but as soon as you felt his hot breath, you distanced from him, setting the pace of your bobbing and stroking his full length with both hands, while your juices were almost dropping down on his face.

That was too much, even for a man like him.

“F-fuck…aahh-fuck, (Y/N)!” Bateman was moaning shamelessly, withering around his big bed as if he was lying on burning coals.

“Mmhm,” you wailed around his fat girth, making obscene wet sounds each time his cock was slipping inside your mouth but once you felt him shaking, you quickly pulled his dick out and knelt beside him, letting him cum all over his perfect stomach. “Yes, Daddy … mm-gimme your cum.” You spurred him to tremble even more as you pushed two fingers into his tight asshole, massaging his prostate and prolonging his vivid orgasm.

“S-shit …” He hissed, still quivering and loading his hot seed to the last drop.

“Good boy,” you whispered and caressed his face, leaning down to smear his cum around his brawny torso, licking it off from your digits and closing your eyes in delight. “Gosh … It’s so tasty.”

With that said, you grinded against his pubis once more to get covered with his warm fluid before you lifted yourself up a bit and towered over his extremely blushing face. Patrick was breathing so hard that you even started to worry, but when he opened his hazel eyes and saw your pretty little pussy, he gave you a look full of desperation and need that left you almost speechless.

Arching your back, you lowered yourself a little and let his extremely wet tongue brush against your very sensitive clit - you moaned immediately, almost falling on his face, but you managed to balance yourself, controlling the distance between your pussy and his greedy mouth.

“Cupcake,” Bateman murmured and made a few little kitten licks along your folds. “Fuck, I will make you cum so hard, you will drown my face in your sweet flavor … if you let me.”

Damn, he was always saying the right words, which were driving you crazy. Moaning, you slowly straddled his gorgeous face and as soon your hips hugged his head, Patrick latched to your cunt like a starving man as he was literally devouring you like his life was dependent on it.

“Aa-aww, Patrick, mmm-I’m about to cum, aahh!” You squeaked, clinging to the ledge in the wall over his bed. “Yes, yes … eat my pussy like a good D-daddy you are, aah …”

These candles didn’t just have a soothing effect, but an aphrodisiac one as well; you couldn’t control your body as your mind was completely dazed. The only thing that was important right now – his heated tongue fucking you from below.

Your climax washed over you like a fucking tsunami, forcing your toes to curl almost painfully as your whole body rocked erratically, but it only caused him to slurp at your cunt even more eagerly, Patrick was shaking his head to rub his nose against your pulsating, swollen tip.

"Mmm-mhh, Pat-" You froze in a silent shriek, squeezing his head between your legs and rubbing against his face to prolong your fierce orgasm, fearing you might even break his nose if your humping became too intense.

But Bateman only moaned against your lower lips, drinking in all of your delicious wetness, clinging to your pussy so tightly you thought he wouldn't ever let you go.

Nearly sobbing, you got up from his abused face, leaving him completely breathless but satisfied, as Patrick couldn't stop smiling smugly, looking at you from under his eyelashes … God, his completely dazed look nearly made you cum again.

Sudden exhaustion hit you hard, but you wanted to continue this spicy game as you didn't know when you would have another chance to control this delicious man.

“Uh, Jesus …” Bateman muffled, fidgeting beneath you from uncomfortableness. “I think I can do it forever, your luscious pussy tastes so amazing.”

You just grinned in response, bending down to his face and pressing him against your boobs, rubbing them against him. Almost immediately Patrick started to wiggle his head, trying to catch one of your taut nipples, but you didn't let him as you watched him stretch his neck as far as it would go.

“My pussy was not enough? Such a starved, needy boy.”

“I’ll never get enough of you, baby.” He licked his lips briefly, his eyes were fixated on your hard peaks, and his chin was so fucking sleek, it was literally glistering like it was oiled. “Never …”

"Oh, is that so?" You let him take one of your nipples and he moaned in pleasure, sucking it like a baby, causing your throat to tighten with a loud whimper.

“Mmm, yes …” He was literally wild, consuming your hot flesh with a squelching sound and making your legs shake again. Panting, you turn around to wrap your hand around his already hard cock, and it seemed like he hadn't cum at all.

"You want me to fuck you, Daddy? So you can cream my little hole?" You provoked him by pulling away from his face.

Tightening his hands, Patrick pulled desperately at the handcuffs, but he was already too tired to wrestle, so he just pushed his hips up against yours, making his answer pretty clear. "Do whatever you want with me, Cupcake."

His voice was all that mattered to you at that moment as you suddenly pressed your lips to his, feeling the cocktail of different liquids on them and kissing him harder than you had planned, but he answered with no less effort. And then you stuck out your tongue, and without a word, Bateman took it into his mouth and sucked it obediently.

"You're such a good Daddy, so good." You stroked his cheek before turning around and bending over so he could see your pretty butt and pussy. "You always take good care of me ... and now I'm going to take care of you."

Grinning, you looked at him from behind, his thick dick buried in your overstimulated womb. Fuck, his was so big, every time you had sex you had to adjust to its size, but today you couldn't wait to embrace the feeling of being so full. So you took him as far as you could, spreading your legs to give him a proper look at how your feverish pussy struggled to encircle his beefy girth.

“Aaah, Daddy … mmm, it feels so good!”

“Mmm, fuck … oh shit, babe, your pussy clenching around me so tightly, aah-fuck,” Patrick moaned even louder than you, watching his dick slipping in and out of your moist cunt with wet shameless sounds as you were bounsing on his hips, with your back to his face.

The friction was too intense. You doubted you could last long, even without stimulating your clit, just hearing his loud whimpers was enough to make your next orgasm settle in your womb. Mewling, you had to bend over and hold on to his ankles for support as you rode him really hard, almost rough, not to mention his thrusting firm hips that he couldn't use at full power since he was cuffed, but he couldn't just lie still.

"Ahh, Pat-Patrick ... I love the sounds you are making! Moan louder!" you blurted out, feeling yourself almost numb and fucking him deeper; you could feel every vein on his huge cock twitching in ecstasy.

"(Y/N), you will be ... the fucking death of me, oh GOD." He wanted to slap your ass, he wanted to squeeze your fucking neck and make you choke, but instead he was watching you bob up and down on his creamy cock. "Mmmhm-fuck, yes ... encase my dick with your pussy, fuck yes ..."

Those were the last words you heard as you pressed against the spot between his spread legs, shaking so badly you couldn't even utter a sound, your saliva running down your chin as your inner walls continued to spasm. With all the strength you had left, you continued to impale yourself on his cock, and the next second you felt him pumping you with his hot cum, making you so fucking full that it even poured out of your pussy and floated down his dick and his used balls.

A white veil soon covered your vision and you couldn't even remember if you had released Patrick or not, along with the things that happened next, as a feeling of total insanity took all your thoughts away. It consumed you like a tornado, leaving nothing but the nasty sounds of your bodies slapping against each other and your pitiful high-pitched cries as you seemed to accept your fate and let the beast tear you apart.

There could be no mercy, when it came to Patrick Bateman.

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader

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strawberry-whorecake · 3 months

Text

Quite the Little Rockstar | A.S.

pairing: Adam Stanheight x fem!reader

summary: Adam’s feelings for his roommate are strictly platonic, right? At least he keeps telling himself that, until he finds you getting ready for a performance with your band, and you offer do to his eyeliner.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none, just pure fluff <3

A/N: I’ve been in my Leigh Whannell era for months and the other day when I was doing my eyeliner I couldn’t stop imagining sitting on Adam’s lap and doing his eyeliner aaaaaaa

Having a roommate was weird. What was weirder was having a female roommate. But she’d answered his ad and she paid her half of the rent on time, so who could complain? Especially not when said female roommate was as good looking as you were.

The sound of rock music blaring over the stereo interrupted Adam’s darkroom session. He’d been so lost in developing and perfecting his photographs, he’d barely noticed just how much time passed.

Still… the interruption was not what he was hoping for. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger as he shut his eyes tight. After a moment of realigning himself to reality, he stepped out of the darkroom, following the sound of the music, which only grew louder the closer he got to the bathroom.

He hesitated for a long moment, the door was slightly ajar, but was it weird to enter the bathroom while his roommate was in there doing god knows what? He didn’t want to be a perv. Was it even pervy in the first place if the door wasn't shut?

About to give up as a whole, he stopped once more to the sound of you singing along to the music, and it pulled a small smirk to his lips. He swallowed down his anxieties and knocked first–like a gentleman– before pushing the door open anyways.

“What the hell’s going on in here?” he asked a bit playfully, looking around at the state of the bathroom.

The edge of the sink was littered with products, some of which had lost their balance and fallen to the floor. You looked nice, which confused him for a brief moment. Nice, but in a bad-ass, edgy kind of way. His gaze flitted over your outfit, and he couldn’t help but mentally admire your figure.

“I’m getting ready for the concert.” you said simply, and he furrowed his brows slightly. Concert? What concert? Then it hit him.

“Oh shit… the Wrath of the Gods concert is tonight?! Fuck! I forgot all about it… Scott’s gonna crucify me.” He groaned before running his hand through his hair. He huffed as he caught your reflection in the mirror.

From what he could see it looked like you were about to stab yourself in the eye with a pencil, and his eyes practically bugged out of his skull. He watched with incredulous curiosity as you brought the pencil not into your eye like he’d expected, but around it. The pencil left messy black smudges around your eyes.

“What is that…?” he asked, probably sounding like an idiot.

“Eyeliner?” you replied with a little huff of a laugh. Yep. He was an idiot, and your words proved that to him..

“Oh, yeah… I knew that.” he bullshitted. He’d seen that particular makeup look on girls before, but the only thing he’d ever known in terms of makeup was lipstick and eyeshadow. Oh, and that black gunk you’d put on your eyelashes that made them look long and dark. Mascara?

He watched the way you applied the makeup around your eyes, only to then rub the tips of your fingers over your eyes, making the black pencil even messier… though, it was oddly attractive. It suited you well.

“What?” you asked, peering at him through the mirror’s reflection. His expression turned sheepish, not realizing he’d practically been ogling at you until you’d called him out on it.

“Oh, just uh… that makes you look cool, I guess.” In typical Adam fashion, he downplayed his compliment. He had a hard time being genuine around you, he didn’t want you to think he was a pussy or something by calling you pretty… or gorgeous… or just plain outright goddamn sexy. He did think all those things about you, but would you like him to call you those things? Or would you just think he was weird if he did?

“Thanks.” followed by a little laugh pulled him from his thoughts. You liked his compliment? His gaze softened a little as he watched you reapply only to smudge the makeup around your eyes more.

“Does that like… hurt?” he asked. It looked painful… a pencil that close to your eye? He shivered as he imagined that feeling.

Your laughter once again pulled him out of his thoughts and he regained his focus on you as you turned around to face him, leaning back against the sink with your arms crossed over your chest. “You.. wanna try it?” you asked.

He was a bit hesitant, he still partially believed it would hurt. Didn't girls always talk about how beauty was pain? But also… he was a guy. Wouldn’t makeup make him like, less masculine?

“I don’t know…” he mumbled. “You’re gonna put makeup on me?” He asked, narrowing his eyes a bit, not at you, though. At that pointy pencil between your fingers.

You rolled your eyes despite the smile on your lips, which he always thought was an attractive quirk of yours, and the gesture made him smirk a bit in return. “Adam… every rockstar wears eyeliner.” you explained with that same smile he thought was really enticing.

“Every rockstar?” he said a bit jeeringly.

“Only the best… Billy Joe Armstrong, Bowie, Ozzy Osbourne, Alice Cooper…” Your smile widened a bit as you continued on, and Adam couldn’t help but roll his eyes, though this time a small smile pulled on his lips too.

“Whatever.” he said, though that was the closest thing you’d get to a yes from him.

“C’mere…”

His gaze drifted from your eyes to your arm outstretching, finally to your hand as you held it out to him. He rolled his eyes in an attempt to keep up his arrogant nonchalance, though he silently begged that his cheeks hadn’t blushed. Especially when your fingers entangled with his.

He let you guide him to sit on the lid of the toilet seat, and watched with shaky breaths as you stood in front of him… between his legs. Only to be close to him, of course… right?

When you brought the pencil up to his eye he immediately flinched away, listening to your little scoff at his cowardice. “Shut up.” he bit back.

“Adam, I swear it doesn’t hurt. Don’t you trust me?”

Goddamnit, how the hell was he supposed to say no to that sweet tone in your voice!?

“If you stab me in the eye, you’re paying the full rent.” he threatened, narrowing his eyes slightly as his gaze darted between that pencil and your eyes.

“I won’t stab you in the eye if you don’t move.” Your tone held a sense of focus as you brought the pencil back closer to him again, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes.

“Adam…” you huffed, making him open his eyes again.

“What!? You’ve got a sharp pencil so close to my eye! You really expect me to just be calm or some shit!?” he scoffed.

“Don’t be a baby,” you teased and before he had time to even process what you were doing, he found you practically straddling his lap, your hand holding onto his cheek.

His breath hitched in his throat, but he covered it up by pretending to clear his throat. Your body was so warm pressed against him… and so soft.

Oh fuck… he was blushing.

It seemed like you knew what you were doing though, because his eyes were practically glued to you. Wide and unblinking, not wanting to miss a single one of your movements.

And you took the opportunity and ran with it. You brought the pencil to his eye, almost touching, and he clenched his jaw a bit to resist his urge to close his eyes or flinch away.

“Look up for me.” you instructed as you gently tilted his head downwards, and he obliged your directions, glancing up at the ceiling.

He was scared as shit as the pencil grew closer and closer to his eye… but then suddenly it tickled? He couldn’t help but pull back slightly from the sensation.

“What the fuck…?” he huffed a laugh, which only made you laugh too.

“I told you it didn’t hurt. But you have to stay still okay? It’s gonna tickle a little bit, just try to ignore it.” you reassured him as you gently gripped his face a bit more firmly.

He definitely noticed the way you leaned into him to get closer, your face only inches from his and he suppressed the urge to groan, instead bringing his gaze up towards the ceiling like he’d done before.

Adam fought with every ounce of strength to not let his eyes shut in defiance as the pencil tickled his waterline. He was relieved when you’d moved from his left eye to his right, figuring you were finally finished. But when you said it was time for the top, his eyes widened a bit.

“You’ll be fine, just look down this time.” you said, tilting his head up, and begrudgingly he obeyed. You gently placed your fingers on his eyelid, tugging it up as the pencil met his upper lash line.

“Jesus christ… this tickles worse.” he practically whined. He ignored the smile that pulled on your lips in response to his griping.

What he couldn’t ignore though, was how cute you looked like this. Sitting on his lap, your eyes soft but so focused on lining his eyes perfectly. Your fingers gently guiding and pulling at his face. He liked your touch… maybe a little too much.

That thought only made him blush and he looked away from you, still keeping his gaze downward like you’d instructed him too. He knew if he looked at your thighs pressed to his, his blush would only grow worse. Hell, his face would probably envy a tomato at that point.

You worked from his left to his right eye again, and the sensation definitely didn’t get easier the second time around. It was insufferable, like a stuck eyelash that was constantly tickling and poking into his eyelid. “Are you done yet? This sucks… you like doing this!?” he asked, his tone full of disbelief.

“Relax.” you said simply, running the pencil along his upper lash line a few more times before you pulled the pencil away completely. And leaned back away from him which he wouldn’t admit he didn’t like so much.

“Now just rub your eyes.” you said, reaching over to grab the pencil’s cap from the sink and sliding it over the pointy end.

He looked at you quizzically for a moment. “But you just did all that… to mess it up?”

Your little laugh unwillingly pulled a small smile of his own to his lips. “Yeah, pretty much. That’s what makes it look cool… and like you don’t give a fuck.” you explained, and oddly enough, you were speaking Adam’s language.

He huffed a laugh, still feeling a bit ridiculous, but obliged, using the heel of his palms to rub both of his eyes at the same time. When you gently grabbed at his wrists to tug his hands away, he peered up at you.

He watched as a smile pulled on your lips as you looked him over. “Totally bad-ass.” you reassured him.

Adam had to suppress a pout as you slid off his lap. He’d gotten really used to that closeness, and now that it was gone, he missed it. He wouldn’t admit it, of course. But he perked up when he realized now he could see what you’d done.

Pulling himself to stand up, he turned to stand beside you in front of the mirror. “Damn,” he said simply. Your eyes were practically glued to his reflection, and he could tell you were worried that he’d hated it. He let a small smirk pull on his lips. “I look punk rock.”

He tilted his head in a few different directions, looking over, and practically admiring his appearance in the mirror. He did look pretty cool and that made him feel cool too. “Maybe I should be the guitarist and singer for Wrath of the Gods instead of you.” he teased, earning him a gentle elbow to the ribs which made him laugh.

He looked from his own reflection to yours beside him, and the way your eyes matched. It felt strangely intimate… and he liked it. He tangled his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into him–wanting to feel your closeness, but easily played it off as a friendly gesture.

“What do you think? You think I look cool enough now?” he asked, enjoying the way you rolled your eyes despite your smile, and how you didn’t reject his touch… and instead you seemed to lean into it.

“If you want me to tell you that you’re always cool… it’s not gonna happen.” you teased back, making him laugh. He liked that you were a little spunky. It only made him more attracted to you.

“Okay, okay… fine.” he said with another small laugh before turning his head to actually look at you, not your reflection. “We look pretty punk rock together, huh?” he asked a bit teasingly, though he was pleased at the way you practically giggled. You’d never giggled before and it felt like a huge accomplishment to him.

“Shut up, Stanheight. You’re such a dork.” You rolled your eyes, but still had that same intoxicating smile.

He glanced down towards your lips, telling himself he was just admiring the way they curved into the most precious smile he’d ever seen, but he knew that wasn’t true. He was actually wondering if your lips were really as soft as they looked.

“Shit! We gotta go, Adam!” you interrupted his thoughts as you practically dashed from the bathroom. He glanced in the direction of the clock on the stove, seeing your source of panic.

“Oh fuck, Scott’s gonna kill us both.” He quickly followed after you, hurrying to his darkroom to grab his camera, looping it around his neck as he met you back by the front door of the apartment.

He admired only for a moment how good you looked with your guitar case strapped over your shoulder, and he couldn’t deny his excitement to see you on stage performing with so much energy and passion like you always did.

You were quite the little rockstar, and he liked that.

It was a silly thought, but he also liked that your eyeliner matched… like in a weird way, your matching eye makeup was a claim on each other. He just hoped you were thinking the same thing he was.

“C’mon!” you said, snatching up his hand as you ripped open the front door, pulling him along so hastily he barely had time to shut the door behind him.

“Hey, hey… slow down,” he said as a bit of a huff. You begrudgingly slowed your roll, peering over your shoulder at him as you dropped his hand. He anxiously ran his fingers through his hair.

“I was just kinda wondering… if you’d let me kiss you without the guys around.” When he noticed the way your brows raised at his request he quickly stumbled out, “You know! For good luck, duh!”

Before he even had a moment to backpedal, say that he was just fucking around, there it was again, that soft little laugh that was practically a giggle.

“Well… if it’s for good luck.” you said, stepping closer to him and making his heart race in his chest. He gently reached up and cupped the side of your face, tilting your head up a bit as he leaned in. He watched the way you leaned in too as your eyes fluttered softly shut, and he swore he melted in that moment.

He shut his eyes too, as he closed the distance between your lips, kissing you softly. It only lasted a few moments before you pulled away first, though he didn’t mind. He was awestruck that you’d even let him kiss you.

He got to kiss you, and he knew for a fact that your lips were indeed as soft as they looked. He was a fish and you cast out the line, hooking him in. He didn’t just want to kiss you again, he felt like he had to. Until your words quickly shut down that desire.

“C’mon, let’s go before Scott loses his shit over how late we are.” you said with a small, almost shy smile.

“No way…! What if that wasn’t enough good luck!?” he playfully argued, making you laugh.

“Then if we totally blow tonight, I’ll let you give me a little extra good luck later. Deal?” you offered, and this time, it was his turn to laugh.

“Okay, fine… deal.” he agreed a bit reluctantly, though that reluctance faded as soon as you tangled your arm around his waist, and he did the same to you.

Usually he hated being the personal photographer for Scott and Wrath of the Gods, but tonight he was rather excited about it. He already knew most of his pictures would be of you.

And even if you guys killed it tonight… he was still dead set on giving you that extra good luck once you guys got home later, anyways.

#adam stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #saw 2004 #sawposting #saw fanfic #adam faulkner stanheight #adam faulkner x reader #leigh whannell #whorecake fics

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hapan-in-exile · 3 months

Text

Volume 3 - Post #12: A Loving Feeling

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Total word count: 4.6K (of 45K total in Volume 3)

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, +18 *NSFW*

A/N: I think my content warning is don't read this in a public place!

__________________________________________

XII. “Put your arms around my neck,” he commands in a low whisper, adding a hurried “please,” to assuage his gallantry before he draws your knees behind his back and grips your ass in both hands.

Somehow, he’s able to press more kisses to your lips and cheeks, even the tip of your nose, while carrying you over to the bed. You can feel how much he wanted you—but behind that desire, you feel...something else. Something that felt like apprehension.

You uncross your ankles and loosen your grip around his neck in a signal to set you back on the ground. In practice, this meant awkwardly sliding down the front of him, with one hand on his shoulder for balance as you tried to avoid choking him in the tangle of your limbs.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m okay,” you assure him gently. “More than okay. Amazing. But…you know I can sense your emotions, right?”

“Yes,” he says. “I can feel you there—in the back of my mind.”

“Is that okay?” You ask timidly. Surely, he would have said something before now if it wasn’t. “If it bothers you, I can try harder to shield the connection. Stop it from happening.”

“No, it’s okay.” His hand on your shoulder squeezes reassuringly. “It's like being closer to you…just different. I can’t explain it. But no, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Good," you sigh in relief. "Like I said, I feel amazing, but I’m not sure that you do? I can sense that part of you...doesn't want this.”

“I—” he inhales sharply. There’s a long pause before he sighs and brushes the hair from your cheeks, cupping your chin in his palm. “I can say with all honesty, there’s nothing I want more than to be buried between your thighs right now.”

That’s validating! Wait. What isn’t he telling you?

“Ugh,” you moan. “This involves some type of misplaced guilt, doesn’t it?”

His sigh is even deeper this time. “Can I at least escort you to the bed first?”

The Mandalorian takes this duty to heart. With one hand splayed wide over your lower back and the other holding your elbow, he guides you to the edge of the bed to sit you down.

“Are you…kneeling?”

He is. Well, at least his desire to be between your thighs is sincere.

“I need to...tell you some things before we proceed...any further,” he said, taking a deep breath. "So you feel like you’re making an informed decision. About me."

“Okay. May I first say that I’m relieved to have this conversation now instead of after you’re halfway inside me?”

A sharp snort passes his nostrils, and it strikes you as the kind of response that would have been obscured under the helmet. He's so much more expressive than you expected.

“Even after a lifetime of rigid discipline, once I’m inside you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

Once I’m inside you. His whole being—everything about his presence—felt hyperreal now that you can hear the emotion in his voice and sense his interiority.

And right now, he’s a tangle of anxiety, torn between an urgent desire to act and the crushing fear of loss.

“Right...”

You wrap your robe back around you in case staring directly into your tits is just making this more difficult for him.

“Mando, I know you’ve spent the past months coming up with all these reasons why we shouldn’t do this. I promise that I will listen—and hear—everything you have to say. I promise.”

“Right. This is harder than I thought it would be.”

“That's okay," you nod. "Remember, I’m here with you because of who you are now. The man you used to be? He’s not here. You are. You’re the one ready to bear your soul in some weird act of contrition to avoid hurting the person you care about.”

“I—thank you. It’s not where I’m going with this, but thank you for saying that. You have such a generous heart,” he leans forward to place another kiss on your forehead. “What I want to avoid is that look on your face when you found out about Xi’an. You were…upset…when something you assumed about me turned out not to be true.”

“Upset?” You burst out laughing. “Ok, you’re the one being generous. I was humiliated, got drunk, and the night ended in a bar fight.”

“The bar fight was my fault,” he admits. “But I’d like to avoid hurting you again by…making sure you’ve got a clearer picture. About me.”

You’re sitting with a puddle of come between your legs, a sour stomach full of dread, and no idea what he’s about to say.

“I—I feel ridiculous explaining this...I belong to a sect of Mandalorians following the ancient Way of Mand’alore. It’s a way of life handed down through centuries by a band of warriors formed by Mandalore the Great himself. When I was sworn into the fighting core, I took an oath to live this way of life—The Way.”

You reflect that you’d always envisioned ‘The Way’ in capital letters when he said it because it seemed so full of reverence. Ecclesiastical training is hard to shake, it turns out.

“Our identities are subsumed by the armor we wear. Under our helmets, we are no longer individuals but part of the unbroken chain of our ancestors. When I die, another will don my helmet, and a new link in the chain will be forged.”

Part of your brain grudgingly acknowledges that this would be an incredibly fascinating field of study. However, most of your brain is preoccupied by the frustrated throbbing between your legs.

“Everything we do is for the Covert. We deny the personal in service to the collective.”

Here, he pauses. Hesitates.

“And so…we do not own personal property. And we do not take mates. Or sire children.”

Oh! Oh! Oh, this is why he’s wracked with guilt. Oh! Oh no no no no no! Oh, this is such a fraught emotional minefield.

How do you tell someone that while you don’t not want—?

As if reading your thoughts, he quickly amends, “I’m not saying that you want to bear my children, but—” He sighs. “Foundlings are how we replenish our ranks. Because they have no blood ties, their loyalty and welfare are bound to the entire Covert.”

Oh! That’s why he didn’t feel the same turmoil about the Child. Just you. Because he loves you. But he shouldn't.

“There’s no requirement for celibacy…but…”

“Yeah, I can definitely see why you’re in a bit of a doxastic dilemma here.”

“A what?” He asks, breaking from his tortured monologue.

“Sorry! You get like this, spending your childhood with sages.”

Damnit, you need to approach this with the attention he deserves. The throbbing between your legs is gone but not forgotten.

“Doxastic means, um, principles of belief. The tension in logic between how simple principles are when laid out but aren’t actually simple when put into practice. At all. Because life is super complicated.”

When the Mandalorian doesn’t say anything, you feel compelled to continue. “You’re caught in a dilemma between the letter of the law and the spirit of the law.”

You clutch at a sudden thought.

“Like how I took an oath as a healer to do no harm. Well, ‘harm’ is pretty fucking subjective, right? But the intention of the oath is to remind me about the sanctity of life. To weigh the harm of the interventions I do or do not make.

It’s up to me to determine the spirit of the law when life gets complicated…which, paradoxically, is why it’s so important to have an oath or a Creed because it keeps you grounded. Tethered to something bigger than yourself.”

This he seems to understand.

“Under your Creed, the letter of the law doesn’t prevent you from having sex with me—just that you can’t take me as your mate. So we aren’t breaking your oath. But that distinction doesn’t change what’s in your heart. And I think you don’t quite know how your feelings for me fit into the spirit of the law.”

“Yes,” the Mandalorian says, sounding profoundly relieved at how well you understand his predicament.

“I think the question of loyalty is what’s bothering you.”

“Yes,” he says, and this time, his relief sounds more poignant, perhaps because of how well you understand him.

“The question of loyalty is in your heart, Mando. There’s nothing I can say to change that. But I would never make you choose. I can’t promise that I’m always going to react to things in a healthy way…I also have a temper,” you spread your hands out helplessly. “But I don’t believe in ultimatums. I couldn’t do that to you. I don’t have it in me.”

He startles you by resting his head on your thigh. “I know.”

The throbbing heat stoked to life again, building into a straining ache that just made it harder to say this next part.

“I’m sure you already feel conflicted about testing the boundaries of your oath by taking off your helmet. Which is why I’ll understand if you want to stop.”

“I don’t want to stop,” he says. “I don’t think I can,” and he presses his lips to yours.

**************

He breathes through his nose, keeping his lips pressed to your mouth in a desperately intimate kiss.

Frantic with need, he clutches at your waist to tug your robe loose. Not to simply open it, but to pull it over your head. You get caught up in his excitement, tucking your chin and shrugging your arms free of the sleeves so as not to disturb the mask. Damp tendrils cascade over your shoulders as you reach for the knot you tied against his hips.

It’s hilariously challenging to undo while he bends and twists, trying to remove his boots. You forgot he still had them on!

As his kiss deepens, the Mandalorian puts an arm tight around your waist to bear you down onto the bed. He pushes you backward against the mattress, his other arm supporting your head. Your hands glide up his powerfully muscled back over the scars you’ve seen so many times but never touched. Up and up, until your fingers twine around his neck.

He must feel every hitch in your breathing with your bodies pressed so closely together.

“Sorry,” he quickly shifts his weight onto his elbows so you can take a full breath. “I’m not used to being on top.”

That makes you laugh. “How do you like it so far?”

The Mandalorian responds by burying his face into your hair and kissing your throat through a tangle of wet curls. “I like your arms clinging to my shoulders." He reaches behind his back to grab your knee, sliding his palm over your thigh and down to grasp your hip. "Your legs wrapped around me.”

The way his thumb digs into the soft crease between your hip and thigh makes your stomach clench, and you feel a damp warmth spreading where his body presses against your wet center.

“Good,” you gasp. “I hope you like the rest, too.”

“You have to tell me if—I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hmmm, sometimes hurt can feel good. Like this,” you lift your chin up to glide your open mouth over his neck, letting your tongue trace a wet line up to his ear. The tip of your tongue makes delicate circles before returning to lick his soft earlobe. You suck it between your lips and bite.

His gasp of surprise turns into a deep groan, and his cock throbs against your stomach.

It’s thrilling to discover the sensitive parts of his body. He very much enjoyed the attention to his ears. So much so that he has to break away and divert his focus. The heat igniting within him threatens to burn through his self-control, and your tongue, hot and moist, just made him yearn to be inside you.

The Mandalorian shifts his weight from his elbows back onto his knees to rechannel his efforts. His warm mouth finds the hollow of your throat and kisses a path downward between your breasts. He nuzzles underneath one, tracing the curvature with the tip of his nose, kissing and licking. When his lips find the pinched skin of your nipple, he draws it into his mouth.

You didn’t think he would be so—

Inside his mouth, his tongue made lazy, agonizingly slow circles. Then he sucked in earnest, taking a long pull between his lips. In a shock of passion, you cry out, “Aaangh!” Your hips surge against his, and you cling to him, holding his head to your chest. Your fingers dig into his neck and shoulder, urging him for more.

He groans in affirmation, all the muscles in his groin tightening. With your breast still in his mouth, nipple on his tongue, his other hand strokes over your ribs, down your waist to the flare of your hips, then back up. He seeks out your other breast, this time cupping you in his palm to lift it to his mouth. When his lips find its peak, his teeth graze over the swollen tip, and you flinch.

“Tell me if—”

“Yes, yes, you can feel guilty about it later,” you sigh and arch your back to press against his mouth again. His laughter spreads heat over your skin before his tongue slides back over your nipple, lips closing to suck fiercely. Your eyes drift close, and you lose yourself to the sensation.

His thick shaft is wedged into the apex of your thighs, and you can feel it pulsing with need. As the tension inside you coils tighter and tighter, you push against him, parting around the base of his cock despite the briefs. Your breath comes in short gasps as your hips move rhythmically.

Mando pulls back, perhaps to watch since you are definitely about to come. His free hand moves up to gently caress your neck right as all the coiling tension releases.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls through clenched teeth as you whimper helplessly into his ear. “Was that—?” He pants, sounding confused but not angry.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer. “It’s, uh, harder for me to, um, shield my influence…when I’m…you know. I’m sorry…I should have warned you.”

“No,” the Mandalorian says in a dazed sort of voice. “It was…intense, but…good. It was good.”

Between your legs, he’s still hard as a rock so no harm done.

“Will I feel it every time you…?”

“Maybe,” you smile, suddenly shy.

This seems to give him a notion. Mando’s mouth traces over your collarbone, trailing warm, wet kisses down your stomach. He goes lower. Your breathing becomes shallow as his tongue circles your navel, the tension in your muscles building as he moves even lower, his teeth skimming your hip bone.

Involuntary, your hips shoot upward, and he tugs your briefs off in one swift motion.

He settles back on his heels and presses another kiss to the inside of your knee, another higher up, and another against the inside of your soft, tender thigh. Your breath spills out in a huff of air, fingers twining into the sheets, hips twisting with sheer anticipation to receive every inch of him.

“You said you wanted to feel my tongue inside you?” His voice is husky, full of enticement.

“Yes!” You cry out. Wait, what? You hadn’t expected that he would—

“Only if you’re comfor—”

His thumbs spread you open, and his mouth closes over your cunt to take a long, loving taste.

Your head presses back into the mattress. Goddess grant me patience!

What his tongue lacked in precision, he more than made up for with ceaseless enthusiasm. He was not the type of lover to artfully tease or make you beg. No. There’s nothing withholding about the Mandalorian’s mouth.

If you were capable of forming words, you could offer him encouragement. He’s nonetheless keenly observant of each hitched sigh, each moan of pleasure or gasp of surprise, each spasm of muscle. He quickly learned that what you liked best is the way he drew your clit between his lips, against the tip of his tongue, to suck before releasing it to lick.

And what you really liked is when he preceded this by running his tongue in a deft line to part the ridged folds of your cunt before dipping inside you. He soon finds a delicious rhythm of licking, sucking, and circling that makes your hips vault off the bed.

You rock against his mouth, arching to meet each thrust of his tongue—maybe too much? Mando lifts your thigh to place your knee over his shoulder, forcing your weight back onto the bed. But he keeps up the pressure, his tongue exploring every fold, every ridge.

He stretches out a hand, fingertips gliding over your stomach to stroke your nipple, groaning when your breast fills his palm. Ah, yes, he can better reach your breasts in this position. You should have known—it’s been a whole minute since he’d touched one!

Laughing softly, you cover his hand with your own to squeeze and knead.

You don’t know what to do with your other hand. You’ve tried so hard to retain some composure, burying them under the pillows, clenching the sheets. There’s a sense of integrity that, this being his first time doing this—and he was doing a remarkable job—that you maintain some control. Restraint.

Then, he slips two long, slender fingers into your tight, aching center and applies pressure up, from inside. And without really realizing it, both your hands are tangled in his hair, clutching at his scalp, probably painfully.

But he keeps up the pressure, keeps driving inside, building you up and up and up.

You climb with him, insides humming and twining, every muscle clenching and coiling. And when the release hits, you actually shed tears with the rush of it.

The words spilling from your mouth are no longer within your control—half remembered prayers from another lifetime. It’s not until your inane babbling tapers off that you hear the squelching sound of him stroking himself, crouched on his knees between your thighs, hand wet with your come.

“Huh-unngh!” he moans, shuddering in the aftermath of your climax. Which is enough to have the heat rising up inside you again. Your heart is pounding against your ribcage as though trying to break free.

Though you feel completely weightless, you bend toward him, hand reaching for his neck, lips searching for his mouth. When his lips open, you dip your tongue inside, tasting yourself as you pull him closer, arching into the welcome embrace of his arms.

“So,” he sighs against your throat, trying to catch his breath. “It was good, then?”

You burst out laughing and offer him some lewd praise in Hapan.

“What is this word, chibran? You keep saying it.”

“Mmm,” you slide a hand between your bodies to grip him in your fist. “I said I’d give anything to have your cock inside me.”

You hear his head tip back to release a guttural moan as he thrusts his hips upward to push further into your hand. You continue to caress him with long strokes from base to tip. Gentle but with a firm grip.

“Haa-aah…anything?” He asks, sounding very pleased with himself.

“Do you already have a price in mind?” Your thoughts are alight with imagination. What sort of obscene fantasies did he have planned for you?

He pushes you back onto the bed. “I need to be inside you. Now, cyar'ika. So this time, we’ll call it even.”

The Mandalorian braces his hand against the mattress beside your head, fingers twining in your hair. He tries to keep his weight on his knees so that his other hand can carefully guide the head of his cock to enter you.

At the first nudge of him, your breath hitches in your throat, and he immediately freezes.

“You’re, uungh, so wet. I thought–”

“It’s a good hurt,” you gasp into his ear, instinctively lifting your hips and widening your legs to accommodate him deeper. “You’re just, haaah…a lot to take.”

You don't need to divulge that it has been a while. Because, despite Nito’s teasing about you doing ‘just fine,' the Mandalorian is absolutely a gigantic cock-block. It’s been months since you got laid, and your fingers can’t really approximate his…girth.

“I’m trying…to be easy,” he says, gritting his teeth. He was panting in long, ragged breaths. You can sense every fiber of his being screaming at him to take you. Now. Roughly. To drive into you with unrestrained abandon.

Instead, he moves with slow and lush, rolling thrusts to ensure you yield to every inch of him. You cling to his massive shoulders, and he leans down to press his lips to your temple and along your jaw.

When your body finally eases and begins to draw him in, you both moan together with relief, and your mouths collide in an eager, messy kiss.

Fully sheathed inside you, he pauses to flex against the clenching surge of your muscles. “Aaah!” You cry out at the feel of him, a pressure and tension that both eased and ached.

His hips begin moving steadily, then he draws back and thrusts deeply inside you again.

“Aaah!” You wail and wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

It’s more than his self-restraint can bear. He draws his shaft out once more, and this time, as he penetrates, you sense his concentration focused on the wondrous throbbing of your cunt, enfolding his full length.

“Nnngh!” He groans over you, resting his forehead against your cheek, slick with sweat, as he begins to pump more rhythmically.

Soon, his impulse for closer and more, evolves into harder and faster…and that seemed good. A good idea.

You untwine your legs from around his waist and dig your heels into the bed on either side of his knees. It gives you greater purchase to push back against the surge of his hips so that you can meet each thrust.

“Yes,” he moans, grabbing your forearm from behind his neck to press your hand down into the mattress, interlacing your fingers.

Your mind is straining to break, so close to the edge of blissful release that you can’t hold up any kind of shield. It’s the right time, you tell yourself. He’s ready.

The connection between you rushes open into a shared consciousness. His pleasure was your pleasure, and your pleasure was his, your heartbeats syncopating in an ecstatic cadence.

“Oh, fuck! Yes,” his hoarse cries send hot breath into your ear. “Yes!”

You rock harder and faster. Your free hand wildly stroking his back, then grabbing his firm buttocks to urge him on, lost to the feeling building inside you. The tension was reaching its peak. You both feel it gathering and climbing. You chase it, race for it, setting a fearsome pace that Mando seems all too pleased to maintain.

Then he pulls out. You gasp with the sensation, the sudden absence of pressure and all-consuming need to be filled, every nerve of your body yearning...so that when he thrusts back inside you, the experience of total and utter satisfaction finally breaks you.

You come with a feral cry on your lips, and the flood of sensation is a wave you ride into oblivion.

It’s the same state you reach for to tap into your healing force. For this certainly is a type of healing, to let the heat of passion burn away the hollow, lonely places in your heart. To be with someone you love, and for a time, not to feel lost or broken. To be happy and contented and exactly where you should be.

You remain in that state for an eternity, or no time at all, until you realize that the keening, breathless sobs are emanating from your mouth.

“Uungh! Aangh, aah!” Mando collapses on top of you in exquisite release. This time, he remembers to take his weight on his elbows so he doesn’t crush you. He's a fast learner!

“Haa…aah…aah.” Panting with each lingering spasm, he continues throbbing inside you, his body shuddering in your arms.

********

“I don’t want to move,” he says from somewhere between your breasts. “But I must be getting heavy.”

“I’m more worried you’re going to suffocate.”

“Then I’d die happy.”

He pulls out slowly before laying down beside you, fitting an arm underneath your neck so that your head can rest in the crook of his elbow. The other he wraps around your waist. You lie in companionable silence, waiting for your breathing to steady.

It’s so peaceful, but you feel compelled to say something. Something desperately romantic, so he knows how much it meant to you. How much you care.

Of course, you steer right past romance and land on cleverness.

“So, it was good, then?”

The Mandalorian bursts out laughing—deep, booming laughter that rumbles in his chest with such force that it shakes the bed. You turn your head to smile up at him and share in it, even though you can’t see his face.

“Yes,” he whispers, kissing your hair and drawing you even closer, with your back sealed against his chest. You feel him softened but not spent, pressing into your hip, still wet with your release. “Much better than a wall.”

“Walls can be fun, but there’s never any cuddling after.”

“I regret what happened, but I’m glad we stopped last time. This was so much…more. I didn’t know it could be like this.” His body curls around you, tangling your legs together. “I’m glad I could take my time and do it right. For both of us.”

“You sound pretty satisfied with your performance,” you say teasingly.

“I was in two fights and a shootout. I thought I would last all of ten seconds and then fall asleep on top of you.” Mando props himself up on his elbow. “Instead, I made the most beautiful woman in the galaxy cry out in my arms. It was a good day.”

“You have a remarkably skillful tongue for someone who spends most of his life with a helmet on.”

Shifting in his arms, you lift your chin, lips searching for his mouth. He bends down to kiss you—tender at first, but when his mouth opens, the heat between you reignites. Or perhaps it had not died down at all.

One of his hands cups your jaw while the other splayed across your stomach. Against your hip, you feel him growing hard again.

"Wait? Two fights?"

You can feel him smiling, the press of his mouth behind your ear. "The guy who found your jacket didn't think he should have to return it. Something about finders, keepers."

"So you fought him for it?" You chuckle breathlessly.

"Hmmm," his hands find your breasts, squeezing and kneading. "I know how important it is to you."

“Before, you asked me what nia’n cor means,” you whisper against his throat. “Nia, is a light…a light in the dark. Se nia’n cor means 'light of my heart.'”

He sighs longingly, burying his face in your hair to kiss the curve of your jaw.

“Are you tired now?”

“No. I’m not tired,” he replies, pressing his lips to yours. Breath catches in your throat, and you gasp into his mouth. “I’m wide awake,” he says.

The Mandalorian’s hand drifts behind your knee, pulling your leg over his hip so he can guide himself inside you. One of his arms cradles your head, the other gripping the back of your thigh, and he begins to move in slow, sensuous strokes.

__________________________________________

END OF VOLUME 3

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this volume in the series story arc.

Continue reading Volume 4: Smart Girl Like You

#mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #mando smut #sexy mando #mando x reader #sexymando #mando x you #the mandalorian smut #star wars smut #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin #mando fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian smut #the mandalorian

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fleshbarbie · 2 years

Text

trust me - billy hargrove x reader.

“billy you cannot be serious right now? you’re going to believe them over me? really?”

you were mad, mad and upset. your boyfriend of almost a year now had approached you after school with a scowl resting on his handsome features and an extra stomp in his step. he had laid into you the second he saw you, instantly accusing you of being some kind of two-timer who was cheating on him with his mortal enemy (his words).

when you asked him where he got all this from, he told you carol and tommy had told him during lunch.

“they’ve seen you (y/n), riding around with steve all hours of the day! like on saturday, when you were supposed to be helping out your grandma with cleaning out the attic. we had to cancel our date for that!”

those bastards, only happy when there was some kind of drama going on. you knew that was the only reason they’d told him, not because they’re good samaritans who thought billy deserved to know. no, fuck that. they wanted some free entertainment and billy was stupid enough to give them that.

yes, you had been out with steve a lot lately but there was absolutely no funny business going on. you knew lying to billy was an awful thing to do, but what were you supposed to do? tell him that you were secretly trying to figure out how to save hawkins before a big monster came out from another dimension and began possessing everybody one by one? hard pass.

“come on billy, you know i wouldn’t do that to you. i love you for christ sakes, do you not trust me?” you questioned the teen, who stood in front of you still looking as pissed off as ever. but you couldn’t really blame him, if you’d found out he’d been sneaking around with another girl and feeding you lies about where he was you’d probably be pissed off too.

“i do! well i did, until now. what were you doing with harrington, huh? why did you cancel our date to be with him?”

you let out a frustrated sigh, pushing your hair from your face with force. “look, i know how weird this all looks and i don’t blame you for feeling the way you do. not at all. but i need you to trust me billy, please. i can’t tell you what we’re doing, not yet. but i promise you, cross my heart and hope to die that there is absolutely nothing going on with steve and i. or any other boy in hawkins for that matter. i love you, i want to be with you. nobody else.”

maybe six months ago billy would’ve scoffed, before he continued to argue with you and accuse you of going behind his back. perhaps even call you a few names before he disappeared somewhere and gave you silent treatment for a few days. but he had changed since then, with your help he had learned to listen instead of reacting instantly.

so, after a few beats of silence he nodded. he still looked agitated and on edge, but he had visibly calmed down a whole lot which in return, calmed you down just the same. you sent him a grateful smile, taking a step closer to your boyfriend and wrapping your arms around his midsection.

with your chin resting on his chest, just under where his chain sat you looked up at him. “thank you. i love you so much, you know that right?”

“of course i do, i just wish you’d tell me what the hell is going on.” he instantly responded, one of his hands reaching down to trace your jawline.

“i will, eventually i promise. it’s just a lot to take in and i don’t think right now is the perfect time for all of it. but you will know, soon enough, what’s going on.”

it obviously wasn’t the perfect scenario, billy was now more eager than ever to find out what you were hiding. but with confirmation from yourself that you were not cheating on him with the ex king of hawkins high, he could relax having complete faith that you wouldn’t lie to him about something like this.

“okay.” he nodded once again, “okay. i’ll wait.”

omg hi !! this is my first time posting in over a year, i know it’s short but i wanted it to be like a little ‘hi i’m back’ type of post. i have three other (longer) works in the making, and i am considering re-writing my same, but different series because i left it at an awkward place and i’d rather start it again than continue it. but yeah that’s all i have to say, i’m back!

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove one shot #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery x reader

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vamxxpire · 9 months

Text

Thundering Storm. (18+)

Mare Barrow x Tiberias "Cal" Calore VII

(AO3 | Masterlist)

Summary: A continuation of what happened in the woods. (Book 3: King’s Cage, Chapter 22.)

Warnings ⚠️: Mild Angst/Comfort, Traumatic response(?), very light dom/sub undertones if you squint, inexperienced, awkward-ish first times lol

Wc: 5k

A/n: Hii this is written in a way to mimic the series to make it seem like an actual chapter. So after the — — at the start, it’s transitioning into my own writing. The — — at the bottom being the end of it and going back onto the book. Ignore if my writing feels different / weird in here; The goal was to replicate the writing style of the books but also keep my own charm!!

His chest flushed beneath my palms, rising with reckless heat. His skin looks even paler next to mine. Using his teeth, he unlatched his flamemaker bracelets and tosses them into the undergrowth.

“Thank my colors for the rain,” he murmurs.

I feel the opposite. I want to burn.

— —

A rough hand of his continued to trail down my spine, tracing the scars adorning my back. Julian called them Lichtenberg scars, something about my blood bursting from electricity and heat. It was confusing at first to understand, but it made sense. The sounder device used my abilities against me, my own lightings. I still struggle with its pronunciation, but it felt nice to have a name to these wounds. They serve as a constant reminder of what’s happened over the last year, what I’ve had to endure to survive, and who I am. Not Mareena Titanos, or the lightning girl.

But Mare Barrow.

Despite the cold droplets of the storm, Cal’s hands remain a comforting warmth, and are quite easy to pick out where they settled on my body. Not like I’d ignore his touch any time soon.

The palm he had wrapped around my neck, an earlier attempt Cal made to soothe any worries or malicious thoughts of mine, edged my body closer to him. He loomed over me, eyes darting all over my face, taking in every detail as if I’d disappear any second. Both of my hands pressed over his chest, proving I wasn’t some dream. A palm laid flat against the uneasy thumping of his heart that betrayed the calm expression on his face.

I found myself doing the same. I searched his face for any hidden intentions, a habit I’ve formed over the the past six months imprisoned by Maven. No matter how much I try to convince myself I’m safe, to not read so much into actions and people, I continue to do it.

Yet, I find nothing; He remained true to himself, real and raw under my touch. His skin buzzed at my fingertips, and for a moment it reminds me of the electric pulse of the storm, but it was something deeper I can’t harness. It was a heat only I could find in Cal. It danced beautifully in rainfall, drowning out the sounds of pouring water and thunder.

Cal leaned closer into me, pulling me into a kiss. It felt different compared to this morning’s; Gentler, nervous. He squeezed his eyes shut, and I followed suit, feeling the warmth of his fingers tracing the bottom of my scars shift onto my waist in a slow motion. His palm gently nudged my the bottom half of frame forward, bodies pressed against one another. I shifted on my footing, opting to stand on the tips of my feet, reaching upwards for his touch.

My mouth opened, tongue cautiously darting out to lick at his bottom lip for something, asking for anything he would give me. Cal is quick to catch on to my message, instantly being met in kind with his own opening up and pressing against my lips. He answered eagerly, sucking gently on my tongue in a way that made me stutter in breath. My fingers trailed down his muscles, defined from years of training for the war. Quick digits founding the hem of his tight training pants, now drenched and clinging onto his body. Similarly to how I am.

Cal feels me pull at the waistband of his pants, and gasps into my mouth, pulling back from the kiss. My first instinct is to whine out, wanting to continue feeling him even as my lungs scream for air. But it is quickly replaced by worry. “Fuck. Sorry, too soon?” I asked breathlessly. Apologizing came naturally to me now, coming from a place of genuine concern. He shook his head, small droplets dripping from the tips of his hair. He flushed in silver, his blood color reaching the ends of his ears. I understood now, he’s nervous. And so was, my own blush creeping itself onto my face now.

“I just don’t know what to do.” He answered bluntly, a hint of worry in his voice. He was used to planning out things, mapping strategies. He is a born soldier, it was second nature for him to have a clear route. This wasn’t, and it made him embarrassed; Guilty from the lack of knowledge. I felt similarly, maybe for different reasons, but all the while the same.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, nodding briefly. “I can take off my pants too, if you want.” If. We both knew that word was unnecessary, the sizzling of water against his body was a clear indicator of what we both truly wanted. The heat radiating off him came in strong waves, and while it didn’t burn at my skin, I was grateful for the rain cooling us down enough.

Cal hesitantly nodded, excitement flickering in his eyes, a golden color that reflected his abilities. I pulled back my hands slowly, glancing briefly at my own training pants snuggly hugging at my curves from the rain. I brought my gaze back up to Cal, who intently watched me. I returned the favor, not breaking eye contact as I tugged at the lining of my bottoms, breaking the waist of them free and slowly pulling the fabric down. I didn’t bother to pull them all the way off, letting them sit on my calves as I bent down and brought myself up. I was already struggling pulling them with the weight of the damp material. I don’t want to imagine what it’s like putting them back on.

He swallowed down, jaw clenching as his eyes darted all over my figure, not knowing where exactly to settle themselves. Butterflies settled into my abdomen, and I realized he looked at me similarly the first time we met. It made me feel bare all over again.

He glanced at my crotch, dragging them up my figure and onto my breast, both clothed by black underwear and bra. For a brief second they eyed the spot where Maven’s burn mark original was. While painful, Sara burned at the skin again in order to properly heal it. It felt like a small victory, proof of no longer being in his chains. They finally landed on my face, but not for long. He looked elsewhere, looking everywhere but at me.

“Didn’t think you’d be so shy, Cal.”

His eyes snapped to me, “How can I not be? I’m not as bold as you, Barrow.” A lie, maybe. His voice came out barely above a whisper. As if he were afraid we would be caught if he talked any louder. The trees and sound of the howling wind disguised any trace we could possibly leave.

A half smile tugged at the corners of my lips, making you forget all about the embarrassment from earlier. Even now, the playful bantered continued. “Well. It’s your turn, isn’t it?” I looked down at his own tight pants, emphasizing my point. It did little to the imagination; What I assume is his length, was obviously strained against the wet article of clothing. Cal’s fingers on my waist twitched in response to my shameless eyeing, reluctantly pulling away from my waist. For a second I regretted it, missing the warmth of his hand. But any regret was quickly forgotten as I watched him pull it towards his body, rewarding me with a new sight of Cal pulling at the elastic material.

He stretched them down to the start of his knees, not reaching as far as I did since a hand remained occupied at my neck, spilling a soothing heat onto the skin. My breath hitched, eyes darting over his soaked underwear that matched in color with mine. My body didn’t dare to move, the hairs on it standing on point from the cold water. An electric current ran down my spine, drawing out the scarred tissue.

I didn’t get much time to ogle over the tent in front of me, as he pulled my face up, closer once more to his figure and directing my gaze to his blazing eyes.

“You stare so much.” He muttered lowly, face hovering dangerously close. I swallowed down a lump, trying to ignore the bubbling nervousness in my abdomen. “Same could be said about you. ‘How can I not?’ ” I repeated his words from earlier, though different. In response, he scoffed at me, a crooked smile forming.

“Looks like you’re missing quite a few lessons from Lady Blonos.” Cal hummed lowly and looked down at my lips while his free hand found itself back to its designated spot; Cradling my waist and pressing both our bodies flush. An electric current pumped in my veins, pulsing in time with my heart. I pulled eyes down to his own pair of lips. “Care to teach me, your highness?” I answered teasingly, feeling the his fingers twitch while he took the bait.

Cal was quick to pull me back into a kiss, his eyes closed. I followed suit, savoring how he riled me up. We were hungry, a type neither of us ever felt before unless it was from one another. That much was obvious, and didn’t need to be communicated. But after half a year of being starved of basic needs, of affection and tenderness, I felt desperate. Greedily, I wanted more; And Cal was no fool to the needs of mine, he felt it all the same. So when he pushed me against the dark oak behind me, I didn’t protest, answering with a groan at the sudden harshness. My hands separate from his torso as my mouth easily opened itself once more for him, never finding end to the delicious taste of his tongue. I trailed my palms down to my underwear, quickly pulling the fabric down to the mid of my thighs.

I pulled back for a gasp of air, trailing saliva connecting us, and took it as a chance to peek down. I swallowed down at the sight of his clothed groin pressed against my stomach, and looked back up at him, asking. His eyes searched me as well, and he nodded, giving me all the permission I need to continue.

I moved my gaze back down to his underwear, noticing my own was drenched in something else than rain. My face flushed, blood spreading itself quickly onto my cheeks. Quickly, I diverted my attention to Cal, and with shaky, twitching fingers, pried the hem of his underwear back. I dragged them down enough to spring his length free, gasping at the sight as it slapped against my stomach and warmed me up. He in turn hissed, what I imagine could be from my cool skin.

I felt my mouth drop and lungs stop taking in air, nervously eyeing his dick and its size. Cal squirmed under my staring, and I craned my neck back to stare at him with wide eyes. “Am I going to die?” I breathed out. His eyebrows furrowed together as he grinned, “Maybe. Try not to.” He joked, but quickly his expression softened. “We can take it slow, it uh— it doesn’t have to be today if you’re not ready.” Cal quickly added on. If. I hated the word, but it wasn’t like him to backtrack on his words. So I brought a hand up to his forearm, giving an enthusiastic squeeze.

“I want to.” I whispered, not breaking eye contact.

He stared back, silver blood paled his skin with a blush. “Right. Right, yeah, okay. I want to, too.” He mumbled to me, though it sounded that he was bracing himself more than assuring me. He was afraid for me.

I smiled at his sheepish nature, a new side I’ve never seen. I stood on my toes to wrap my hands around his neck, bringing Cal down for a quick peck at his lips. When I pulled back, I watched as he chased after me. He stopped when I began to slowly bring my kisses down to his jawline, eventually reaching his neck. When he sighed out in content and dropped his shoulders, I continued. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. Just—“ My voice trailed off, bringing a leg up to wrap it around his waist. It doesn’t take much to understand where Im getting at, and without much effort he pulled me upwards, leaning me against the tree behind us. He pulled at one of the legs of my pants, freeing them and giving me free access to move them.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, and Cal held my hips tightly, making sure I don’t fall or slip away from his grasp. I don’t think I ever will, not again. From this position, we could both see all. From the way our chests moved as we breathed, to the way our bodies joined together. If we were back in Norta, anyone would scream at the thought of the Prince, destined to be king, and the soon to be Princess, doing such scandalous things. Lucky we were in Piedmont. And both our destinies were no longer decided for one another.

I watched as his erection throbbed in between my legs, gulping down saliva that pooled in my mouth. He shifted my weight against the bark, taking advantage of how I had my arms around his neck, and legs tightly crossed across his hips. I know Cal would never drop me. That didn’t mean I wasn’t opposed of meeting the floor. Especially when I’m so bare and naked. For once, I hadn’t notice the lack of coziness of his hands as he quickly moved his fist to grasp at his length, swallowing down a grunt, faint enough to be drowned out by the rain. But not my ears. I watched in awe, not being able to tear apart my eyes from the action. And it felt neither could he, his gaze never moving as he began to line himself up against me.

Without moving his gaze, he squeezed lightly at my neck, checking in on me. Asking for permission once more. I eagerly squeezed at his own toned back, fingers tapping against the skin now as embarrassment bubbled itself back; It finally began to dawn in at the vulnerability, nakedness of it all. Yet the fire between us refused to be extinguished by mere emotions.

That was all he needed, and he glided his dick in between my folds, as it was practically drenched with slick. After a few testing thrusts, and surprising whines from my end urging him on, he finally pushed. My eyebrows scrunched together, feeling my heart skip a beat while I focused on the sensation of him stretching me. I bit back any sounds, nearly breaking the skin under my lip. Cal wasn’t so subtle in his reaction, hissing out and cursing under his breath as merely the tip being popped inside. His fist, originally grasped at the base, flew onto my hip and gripped tightly for some sort of stability.

“ ‘M gonna start moving.” He said for both our well beings. Even as he hadn’t moved yet, It was a burn I’ve never experienced before. It felt similar to his fire and my lighting, sending jolts down my legs, and up to the nape of my neck. Yet it remained new, the sparks that danced along my skin not being familiar to me, fed by something entirely different. It felt good, and it wasn’t even as close to starting.

While originally he faced a bit of resistance, after a brush of his thumb at my scars, I calmed down and eased up. I watched as Cal inched inside me, agonizingly slow. While he inched in an unbearable pace, it was overwhelming. I was feeling myself being stretched, the hum of the storm, and Cal’s fiery blaze all wrapped up uncomfortably around us. My mind raced with various thoughts all coming to dead ends or reaching pointless conclusions.

For once I felt graceful the exiled prince didn’t have his flamemakers, in fear of what it would be like to sense the true intensity of his flames. It was the thing that defined him. Without it, he was just like any other red trained soldier. No, that’s not right. Cal is Cal, with or without his abilities. No one will be able to take that away from him, or me.

With a groan pulled out of the both of us, Cal finally bottomed out; Joining our bodies together, hips flushed against one another. He stilled his movements, and I was thankful for the thousandth time these last two weeks. Small tears clouded my vision as I blinked rapidly, swallowing down air into my lungs that lost itself from the exchange. I dragged my face up, eyes finding Cal who was already staring at me. The world around us seemed to fade, leaving us the only two people existing as of right now. Finally, I understood what the scholars in Julian’s book were talking about, why the Gods cursed us. It wasn’t for our abilities, or because of silver blood, but for the sins of humanity. I felt every hint of them; Pride, Greed, Wrath, Envy, Gluttony, Sloth, and especially Lust, as I stared up at Cal.

A part of me wondered if he felt the same, or understood what nonsense wracked my brain. For a second it felt like he did, as if he were a Whisper and could read my thoughts. Though, he seemed to be in his own head instead. I nodded briefly, encouraging him on once I felt ready.

Albeit shaking, from the rain or something else, he pulled back his hips in the same tauntingly slow manner. Only to move his hips forward and flush against me; He was more understanding with the purposeful and gentle pace he set. The air around us felt intoxicating, all sound drowned out by our small grunts and moans. “Tell me if it’s too much.” He said abruptly through gritted teeth. I knew I wouldn’t have to. I wanted to feel it all, no matter how bad. I nodded anyways for his sake.

With no warning, he picked up the pace, his hips snapping harshly against mine. I struggled to breathe as the air was fucked out of my lungs, involuntarily digging my nails into the flesh of his back for some sort of support. A moan was dragged out from my throat, and I dug my head into the crook of his neck to shut myself up. The action only fueled Cal, like coal to a flame, and the intensity of his thrusting picked itself up. “Look at me,” I hear his voice muffled; Drowned out by my voice, the slap of skin, and thumping heart in my ears. But this doesn’t stop the words from bringing me back to Norta, to Maven when he had asked for my gaze, seconds before using the painful device on me. And for a second I panic, bolts jumping under the tips of my fingers begging to be released. His words bring me to the sounding device, making me hear the painful ringing in my ear.

I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting to run away from my thoughts and sound. The storm on top of us rumbled with thunder, syncing up with my emotions as I began to hyperventilate. With a gentle but firm tug of someone’s hand deep into my hair, I’m pulled back to face something. I snap my eyes open and searched wildly, afraid. I quickly realized who brought me towards his face, making me look at him. And I felt grateful. It was still Cal.

Im safe; I’m safe; I’m okay. Repeated in my head. I could write the words with my eyes closed from how many times I’ve repeated them these last two weeks. But no matter how safe Piedmont was, how far away we were from Norta, Maven still had his claws deep into me. His brand, long gone, continued to burn under my collar. And while my body healed, my mind didn’t. As if sensing where my thoughts were going, he traced my scars with his thumb, slowly reaching his touch up to my cheek. This became a habit between the two of us. I panic, pulled into the dark place of my brain, and he pulls me back with simple touches that made the cold go away. “Hey,” He said with a hushed voice. I swallowed down, throat dry and vision blurred with tears I didn’t realize formed and were wetting my cheek. I pretend it’s just rain. “Hey.” I responded back, voice hoarse. His eyes flickered all over my face, studying it for the millionth time. He squeezed at my cheek, silently asking.

Are you okay?

I breathed heavily, I didn’t know the answer to the question, but still squeezed at his muscled back .

Yes.

After a moment given to control my breaths and calm down, he broke the sounds of our breathing. “Can I uh. Move?” He asks, and I’m pulled back into moment. I realize how tightly snug he fit into me, and how my body ached painfully for something else. Embarrassingly, I answered as soon as the words left his mouth. “ Yes.” I hissed, but it didn’t stop there. “Fuck Cal, please. I need it.” The prince wasn’t used to begging from me, neither was it. These months changed us. Though it seemed to have an effect on him, and I heard a shaky breath leave him. He gripped at my hair, tugging me back and making me groan mindlessly, clenching around his dick. His hips stuttered, and I watched as my actions indirectly pulled a low moan from him. He pulled me into a desperate, needy kiss. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve felt his lips today. Too focused on elsewhere, I returned the kiss sloppily, the feverish movements making it difficult to even keep my head straight.

I felt my mind swirl, and I squeezed my eyes shut again to concentrate on something, anything. But Cal wasn’t having any of it, he didn’t want to lose me again. “What are you thinking?” His voice beckons, and my eyes open to look at him. I hadn’t realized we stopped kissing. But I didn’t complain. The image of Cal itself almost finishes me, a coil tightly wrapping itself on my abdomen. It reminds me of the storm, close enough to feel it, but not quite there.

Cal stared at me with lidded eyes and blown out pupils, lips parted as he breathed heavily. It reminds me of when we shared a room back in Tuck. The words get caught in my throat, and after a particular thrust, I cried out. I searched for air, forcing myself to speak. “I don’t know.” I answered breathlessly. He dryly laughs, the grip at my hips tightening as he shifted, angling himself to fuck me better. It he weren’t holding me so tightly I think I would’ve broken apart, putty under his hot touch. “No Mare— Fuck. I mean. Do you feel good?” He paused in between words, catching his breath in the spaces with the occasional moan. As soon as I processed the words, my head snapped up and down, nodding. It was more than good, it made all of my senses fry, it didn’t feel enough yet it was too much. I couldn’t find the words, so instead my nails dug into his skin, dragging them back up painfully.

That was all he needed, a shiver rocked his body, and suddenly he was too caught up on me to entertain conversation. His movements became harsh, and with them his length jabbed at a particular spot that made the purple sparks of my electricity cloud my vision. My mouth fell slack, babbling nonsense as different kind of sounds left me. His movements were erratic, waves of pleasure hitting me harder every time. He leaned his face closer, teeth scraping against my cheek as silent words reached my ears. ‘I love you.’

Like a dam, I broke open. The cables of my abdomen was quickly becoming loose and springing around like a live wire, and all I could do was grab onto Cal; My anchor as I came. My walls squeezed at him without my knowing, and with a guttural groan from Cal, he quickly pulled out, with a twitch thickly spilling all over my stomach.

Fireworks continued to spark behind my eyes, not noticing the sudden emptiness. My body shook, jolting from the intensity of my orgasm. Sounds of our heavy breathing and gasping filled the air, still humid from rain. The storm was beginning to pass as it didn’t pour so heavily, indicating it’ll soon only be the two of us left.

I blinked rapidly, hauling Cal into view through teary eyes. I watched as his chest moved up and down with quick, shallow breathes. He laid his forehead against mine, the tips of our noses touching as we didn’t dare to stop looking at one another, afraid it could all be a dream. But we were both here, and very much real. I rubbed at his shoulders, feeling the traced shapes he drew into my skin.

After what felt like hours of crying and Cal brushing away my weeping with the back of his hand, muttering sweet words of encouragement and praise; He slowly moved me down from the tree. He held me steady until my feet touched the ground. Even then, he continued to hover his hands over my waist and neck, afraid I’d break apart, and I almost do, my knees buckling as I stood on wobbly legs. I was thankful for the rain, as it washed away the evidence of his orgasm on my stomach, and the remains of my sobs. The hand tracing at my neck scars trailed up my jaw, then chin, and he cupped at it softly, making me look up.

Too exhausted to speak, we opted to communicating wordlessly, a fun game. He kissed my forehead, ‘thank you’. Then pressed another at the top of my head, out of worry. I grinned sheepishly, kissing back at his collarbone and leaning into his touch. I pressed at his biceps, kneading the muscle. With a long drag from his arm to his side; I relished the last shiver I’ll pull out of him, for now. My fingers trailed until they bumped at his underwear, tugging his semi hard length back into its containment. I watched Cal grimace, and I burst out laughing. Speaking came too easy for us now.

“It’s cold.” He grumbled, for the first time his rough palm left my neck, both his hands trailing down my sides to grab at my underwear. He began pulling it up to cover at my bits, returning my gesture. My eyes narrowed, smiling at the complimentary actions.

“Water never sat well with the Prince of Fire, did it?” I answered back slyly , pulling up my training pants and and looking around for my shirt.

He pulled up his own bottoms, picking at his flamemaker bracelets he had previously discarded nearby. With a click, they latched onto his wrist, and he flexed his fingers. “I wouldn’t mind it if it meant we’d get to do this more often.” He answered nonchalantly, though I could hear the mischievous smirk from his tone.

I flushed, blood pooling at my face, and I bit at my tongue to hold whatever response was ready leave me. If I had it my way and didn’t know better, I would beg him to shove me against the tree for a second round. Instead, I shrugged, fighting back a snort and losing. I grabbed at my drenched shirt and twist it, watching as the water fell onto the grassy earth. “I’ll make sure to track the next storm then.” I joked back, making him pale with a blush. Now it was my turn to sneer as I pulled the wet shirt over my frame. I huffed, scrunching my eyebrows at the familiar feeling of cut skin at my back, probably from the oak tree.

As he stretched, I saw the same reaction be pulled from Cal. His eyebrows knit together, confused, lips forming a thin line. “Fuck Mare.. how bad did you claw at me?” He muttered, turning for me to view. I gasped softly at the state. Silver blood trailed down his back, long scratch lines and cuts dragging themselves on his back and over his shoulder. Despite it being his blood, the sight was oddly erotic. Blood trailed around his muscles and made them pop out. Bringing up my wrists, I looked at my fingers, finding faint metallic color on the tips.

I held back a giggle. “This is going to be awkward for Sara.” I bent down to grab at his shirt, and wrung out the water, handing it over once it felt dry enough. I moved my hands to repeat the action towards my dark hair adorned with grey curls, squeezing the water out. He smiled at me, pulling the top over his head and wincing at the cold fabric against wounds. “Not if we don’t get her to heal us. I’d love to keep these.” He winked at my direction, now it was my turn to turn away from him; Starting to walk as my face and ears felt hot at the implication.

Cal barked out a genuine laugh, jogging to catch up to me. “For the person who made the first move to fuck in the woods, you are easily embarrassed, Barrow.” He said lowly. I turned my face to glare at him, my grin betraying my look. “Whatever. You were shaking as if a Shiver touched you.” I scoffed, looking ahead as we made our way out of the woods. His own grin reached his eyes, narrowing happily.

His look shifted over to my curls, and he stifled a noise by bitting his bottom lip. “C’mere, you have something stuck in your hair,” Cal reached a lazy hand over, and began to pull out green vegetation from the tree out of me.

— —

I refuse to go back to the row house covered in mud, and due to Cal’s oh-so-inconvenient living quarters, I can’t clean off his barracks unless I feel like sharing the showers with a dozen other soldiers. He picks leaves out of my hair as we walked towards the base hospital, a squat building overgrown with ivy.

"You look like a shrub," he says, sporting an almost-manic smile.

“That's exactly what you're supposed to say."

Cal nearly giggles. "How would you know?"

"I— ugh," I deflect, ducking into the entrance.

#victoria aveyard #red queen #red queen series #book series #glass sword #king’s cage #mare barrow #tiberias vii calore #cal calore #red queen fanfic #marecal #calmare ?#I don’t know their ship name lol

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claiestve · 10 months

Text

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ꨄ Dontis

˜”* ❝𝙂𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙 '𝙚𝙢❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴅᴏɴᴛɪꜱ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ... ꜰᴏɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇᴡ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

Since you stopped hunting, you’ve been more social with people and recently made a new friend. Dontis was happy for you at first. He was glad you could be social and friendly with people other than him. However, Your new friend’s flirtatiousness and your obliviousness are just enough to push Dontis over the edge.

You were just finishing getting ready for a hangout with your new friend. You were super excited because he wanted to take you to a new place you never heard of. You heard a knock at the door as you were getting your stuff together.

“Is that him? I told him not to pick me up. So persistent.” You say to yourself before opening the door.

“Oh! Dontis? What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

“Well, I was just heading ou-”

“I know.”

You open the door wider and let him in, closing the door behind him. He seemed troubled and you knew it was personal.

“Do you want a drink?”

“No. Just sit with me.”

“Okay…”

The both of you sit down on your couch. You didn’t know what his next words were going to be but you were trying to keep track of the time.

“Your friend,” He starts. You immediately focus on Dontis. “He’s so obviously in love with you.”

“What?! No, we only met like a few weeks ago.”

“How do you not see it? It’s so painfully obvious.”

“Dontis, he’s not in love with me.”

“Did he tell you that?”

You’ve never seen Dontis so upset before. It was honestly kind of scary.

“Look, Y/N. I don’t want you seeing him tonight.”

“I get that you’re jealous or whatever but we’ve been planning this.”

“Y/N, you’re going on a date with him.”

“What is up with you? Why are you so weird about this? He’s not into me and I love you so I’m obviously not into him.”

Dontis scoots closer to you and holds your hands. The way he looked into your eyes made you focus on him more than ever.

“I plan on fighting for my life and it’s not so I can live happily, it’s to see you again. What if I come back in one piece and that man has you wrapped around his finger? What if he tries to hit on you while I’m gone?”

It finally sunk in. You knew what this was about. People have gotten ‘a little too friendly’ with you before but the reason why he actually cares this time was because he didn’t know if he’d see you again. Seeing you do so much better knowing you may never see him again hurt him and now you finally understood.

“Dontis… I had no idea you were this worried,” You start to take your shoes off, “We both know that I’ve been meeting so many people recently but it’s not to leave you in the dust. If something happens to you, I won’t have a safety net to fall back on. You know that you’re everything to me right now and I would be right back where I started if something happened to you.” You look at him and smile, “I won’t leave tonight. I’ll stay here.”

His face lights up a little, “What? You’re actually not going?”

“No. I need to show you that I reciprocate these feelings.”

He hugs you and leans his head on your shoulder. You saw just how much he needed you in that moment and to be honest, you’ve been needing him too.

“Well then, if you’re staying… we should have a date in here. I’ll find some snacks, you text your friend and let him know you won’t be showing up.”

What a cute incubus.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

the things i would do for dontis SAKU DONT KILL HIM

#asmr #zsakuva #zsakuvaxreader #dontis #incubus #saku dont kill him please hes so cute

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kellanved-ammanas · 10 months

Text

TF2 Drabbles: Spy/Engie & Scout - The Guy Your Deadbeat Dad Married

Summary: We need more of the Engiespy as parents

[A/N] I went more for a actual paternal thing this time instead of usual mom-friend vibe but this is just what came to me when I sat down to write this.

Engie paused as he stepped into his workshop. Scout was already in it, seated on the edge of the workbench. Evidently he’d picked the lock to let himself in. A bit annoying but well, he was Spy’s son so of course he knew how to pick locks and liked to use that skill to surprise folk.

“So you’re gonna be my stepdad now, huh?” Scout said as slide off the table to his feet.

“You already know ‘bout that, huh?” Spy had literally just proposed last night after pulling Engie up onto the roof to watch the sunset. They’d been planning to tell everyone sometime today.

“Yeah. You guys did it kinda out in the open. Demo overheard and he told me.” Likely everyone else knew by now too then; living on a base with only eight other people made rumors and news spread less like wildfire and more like an explosion. Probably their fault for doing the proposal on the roof. Too late to do anything about it now.

“You got a problem with me marrying your dad?”

Scout was silent for a few seconds, shifting his weight back and forth, before replying. “No. It’s just weird to think about. I went my whole life thinking my dad was dead but turns he just left ‘cause he’s a coward and ‘cause he’s got enemies or whatever. And then one day I end up working with him, find out he’s my dad a couple years later and then whoops he’s getting married so now I’m gonna have two dads. And my stepdad is a guy I knew before my dad even starting dating him. That’s not how those kinds of things typically go, right? It’s just weird.”

In all the excitement of the proposal, Engie hadn’t had time to pause and consider how Scout would take the news. And he and Spy had officially started dating before Scout had found out Spy was his dad. Not much before but still long enough that the topic of how that news affected Scout and Engie’s relationship hadn’t come up. And it had continued to be something they never talked about it until now.

Engie didn’t feel equipped for such a conversation. Scout and Spy seemed to have repaired their relationship as much as was possible and largely got along now. That didn’t mean everything was all good and fine between them though. There was still tension at times, Spy talked to Engie about it occasionally. It wasn’t something Engie particularly liked the thought of getting involved in but he did love Spy enough to take it on. That’s what loving other people was like sometimes, especially when choosing to marry someone. And so they were finally talking about it.

Engie approached a couple steps closer, putting his hands into his pockets for lack of knowing what else to do with them. “You don’t gotta think of me as your stepdad or whatever if you’d prefer not to. I could just be the guy your deadbeat dad married.” There’d be no use pretending it wouldn’t affect their relationship in some way.

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“No.” Engie liked Scout. They’d gotten along fairly well from the beginning and after all the times Spy had confided in him about his son, Engie had grown to see him in a somewhat similar light. “It ain’t ‘bout just me though. I’m not sure what all goes into being a dad, step or otherwise, especially to someone who’s already an adult, but I’d be willing to try if that’s what you want from me.”

Scout’s face scrunched up as he studied Engie, making him look an awful lot like Spy. Also like Spy, what he was looking for was impossible for Engie to guess. Finally though he relaxed and even smiled. “You know, I think you might be a better dad than my actual dad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Not that that’s exactly hard to do and all. But like, you know? Congrats on getting married and stuff. Maybe having two dads will make up for even properly having one for so long.”

“Well, I suppose I look forward to forward to helping you find out.”

They shook hands. A bit awkward and stiff but it was nice to be on the same page. Only time would tell how things would actually go but Engie was optimistic.

#my writing #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 drabbles #engiespy #spydad #engie & scout

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vampi-fixx · 2 years

Text

akira fudo + love languages.

five love languages, five instances where akira shows you the depths of his affection.

a/n: love how these were supposed to be short and they ended up long. i may have made akira the most extra af bf in the world

tw: some of these are nsfw

i. ACTS OF SERVICE

You joke that Akira would probably take a bullet for you, and he responds quite seriously.

“Yeah, I would. If it meant saving you, I’d do it. I'd do anything really.”

He’s kneeled before you, from where he dropped down to fix your loose shoelaces, when he makes the declaration. But after catching your surprised expression, he stands to his full height, flashing you a small smile.

"Sorry. That weird to admit?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It's—no it’s not. It’s just so like you to say something like that,” you groan.

He blinks several times. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“It means,” you start, pressing a hand to his chest. You smile at the way his heartbeat stutters under your touch. “I have to avoid putting myself in danger otherwise you’ll throw yourself in front of me like the reckless doofus you are.”

“You know,” Akira says, edging closer to you, pressing your palm into his chest, where you can feel his heart thundering now. His other hand cups your chin, tilting your face up to meet his wry, toothy grin. “Some would call that romantic. Risking it all for the person they love.”

“Fudo, you are not risking your life for me,” you say, exasperated, jerking yourself out of his grasp.

“But babe, I’m a devilman! I’d probably survive a bullet!”

In a way, you can’t blame Akira. You suppose that’s the way he knows how to love: putting himself on the line for others. He did it for Ryo, he did it for Miki, and he would do it for you in a heartbeat.

It’s not just the big things either. From saving you from demons to creeps ogling you on the subway; from whipping up curry for dinner when you're too tired to cook, to offering to rub your shoulders when you're stressed and achy.

While Akira doesn’t neglect to tell you he loves you, his actions practically scream it.

“Just have some kind of sense of self-preservation, alright?” You sigh. “I wouldn’t want to be widowed at such a young age.”

He frowns. “It’s not like I’d leave you on your own—W-wait.” His eyes widen. “Did you just say widow? But we’re not even—”

You turn away swiftly, hoping to hide your own surprise at your declaration. “Ah... forget I said that,” you say, walking away.

“Hey, wait—we’re not done talking here! You can’t just leave!” He runs after you, grabbing your wrist. You glance back, surprised; you nearly forgot how fast his demonic abilities made him.

He calls your name, sickly sweet. “Mind repeating what you said back there, babe?”

“Just ah, throwing that out there, Akira.” You laugh nervously, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as high-pitched to him as it does to your own ear. “You know… metaphors. We’re not actually—I mean, we’ve only been together for what? A year so…”

You hope against all odds that he can’t feel your pulse thundering from his grip, but the way he smirks devilishly has you convinced he can anyways.

“Well now you’ve got ideas in my head,” he says smoothly, pinning you against the closest tree. “And I wouldn’t want to disappoint your expectations.”

ii. PHYSICAL TOUCH

tw: light nsfw at end

Akira's parents were hardly around when he was a kid, busy as they were traveling to different countries to offer their aid. He would never complain about it, knowing that as traveling doctors, they were serving the greater good—but still he yearned for the little things he missed out on: a pat on the head for a job well done, a hug whenever he hurt himself and needed comfort.

It makes sense then, that now that he’s in a relationship, he's almost always missing your touch.

"You’re up way too early,” he grumbles, shuffling into the kitchen. He makes for a hilarious sight, his hair in disarray, black tufts sticking out in every direction. His lean form is swathed in a throw blanket he’d grabbed from your bed, one you distinctly remembered bunching up next to him so he wouldn’t notice you left that morning. Opening his arms wide, he envelops you in a hug from behind. You giggle as your spatula flips the eggs on the pan.

“I was hungry.”

He hums, slotting his chin onto your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist, watching you cook. He doesn't let go even as you attempt to wiggle out of his grasp, reaching for the cupboard.

“Got it,” he says, tightening his grip around you, and—with enviable ease—uses his much longer limbs to open the cupboard and grab a plate. He can’t resist letting out a short laugh when he hears you grumble.

“I could’ve gotten it if someone let me,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him. “But thank you.”

As you serve breakfast onto both of your plates, you make your way to the dining table before Akira coughs meaningfully behind you.

“What?”

He sets your plates down and sits himself, before gesturing onto his lap.

Your jaw drops. “Akira, really?”

“Your seat’s taken,” he points out, gesturing at the other seat, where Taro’s settled himself into. Your attempt to lift him off the seat ends with him hissing at you. You glare at the black cat, and he simply meows back at you.

“Fine. No funny business though, okay?” you tell him, before sitting down on his lap. Akira engulfs you in his blanket fort, wrapping his arms back around you.

“Promise I won’t.”

You’re convinced him and Miki’s cat are conspiring against you. You definitely see him wink at the cat when he thinks you’re not looking.

Akira seems happy however, rubbing your side as he chows down on breakfast. You blink; come to think of it, you’ve never seen him quite this clingy.

“Everything good?” you ask him suddenly.

He sends you a wide-eyed look, a piece of egg hanging comically from his mouth. He swallows. “Yeah? Why?”

“Nothing, you’re just… well, you’re pretty touchy this morning,” you note.

His grip tightens around you. “I was just thinking how lucky I am to have someone to hold. That’s all.”

Heat creeps to your cheeks at the sheer honesty in his words, before turning your attention back to your own plate.

It’s not that you don’t want to be touchy, but… well to be honest, Akira’s thighs are lean and muscled—definitely not the most comfortable seat. You shift this way and that, feeling your boyfriend still behind you, before squirming.

“Hey, uh…” He grips your waist meaningfully, and you still. “I know you said no funny business, but keep that up, and these aren’t the only eggs getting scrambled.”

Your jaw drops. “Akira.”

He shrugs unapologetically. “You know what you do to me.”

iii. QUALITY TIME

“Wanna go for a ride on my bike?”

“I saw this new romcom on Netflix. Wanna watch with me?”

“Hey, what was that video you wanted me to watch with you?”

...

Akira huffs, slouching onto the couch next to you. When you glance up from your phone, he takes the opportunity to pounce, planting his head onto your lap.

“Can I help you?” you ask, raising a brow.

He stares at you pointedly with his sharp rimmed gaze, and you get the sense that he is none too pleased about you shooting down his attempts to grab your attention.

“Nah, I’m fine. Just settling in,” he says casually, before whipping out his own phone. Two could play at this game. He adjusts himself, propping his legs onto the arm of the couch, burrowing into your lap. Catching your eye and sends you a smirk.

“What’s wrong?” he says, smug and borderline mocking. “Thought you were busy. Just trying to entertain myself here.”

You snort, attention returning back to your phone as well.

He nudges your hand with his head a few times, and you get the message, and your fingers curl into his unruly locks. He hums.

You can’t resist glancing over a few times. You know Akira hates spending time on his phone; he says it makes him restless. Has the old man finally figured out what Tiktok is? You lean over to see what he’s watching. His front camera is on, and it flashes, taking a picture of the both of you.

“Seriously?”

He glances up. “I’m documenting my favorite program here.”

You groan, grabbing a pillow nearby and throwing it at him. He catches it with ease.

“Delete that,” you whine. “I look awful.”

“How else am I supposed to remember this exciting time we spent together?”

“Couldn’t you be normal and just—just go on social media or something?”

He blinks at you innocently—or as innocent as his perpetually devious face could manage. “Why don’t you show me what that is?”

Akira certainly has ways of demanding your attention.

iv. WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

tw: nsfw

“I love you,” Akira groans, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck.

“You feel so good,” he mutters, his hips rocking against yours, his hands pinning yours to the bedframe. He’s frenzied, his hands roaming the soft give of you, wanting to feel every part of you.

“Wanna—wanna make you mine,” he grunts, sealing his fate with a kiss, stilling as he spills his warmth inside you. You’re locked together, your legs tangled for what seems an eternity.

Akira finally reclines back, and you shift with him.

These nights always seem infinite. When Akira murmurs sweet nothings and your body latches onto them, the heat of his promises diffusing into your skin until the morning comes.

“I wanna get stronger for you,” he tells you, gripping your hand in his. “I need to.”’

“You’re already strong.” You squeeze his hand in yours, and his lips twitch upwards.

He props himself up on his elbow, staring at you intently. Then he’s caging your body into the bed, pressing his forehead into your shoulder, the warmth of his breath coming in a rush against your skin.

“Not strong enough to handle the thought of losing you.”

v. GIFTS

tw: also gets lightly nsfw

Akira’s tried and true method is flowers. Whenever you’re mad at him, or whenever you’ve had a bad day at work, he’ll show up with a bouquet, just for you. Maybe it’s something he picked up from watching too many cliché romance movies, or maybe it’s a method he learned from watching Miki’s parents’ disputes.

He clicks his tongue, setting down his phone. He’s not sure how every single flower shop in the area is closed, but they’re not an option at the moment. He peers at the neighbor’s house, at the array of flowers blooming across her lawn. Maybe he could ask nicely…

When you get home earlier than usual, you’re surprised to see a box of chocolates on the counter, along with a note.

Sorry for being an idiot.

You snort, popping the lid open and a chocolate into your mouth, humming as the sweet taste spreads across your tongue. The door opens and shuts behind you, along with a rushed exclamation.

“Y-you’re back early.”

Akira’s covered in dirt, a bundle of flowers clenched in his hands.

“This is—this is for you,” he says, holding out the flowers to you. “Shit, I don’t have a vase or anything…”

“What happened to you?” you ask, biting back your mirth.

“The old woman across the street said I could take these if I helped her with gardening, but it took way longer than I thought. And then she kept trying to invite me in, or or ask if I wanted to get dinner with her, but...”

You laugh, plucking the flowers from him. “I think we have a vase somewhere.”

“Wait,” he says, gripping your wrist. “Are you still—are we—” You raise a brow. “I’m sorry!”

“I’m not mad, you know that, right?”

He stares at you, baffled. “But you wouldn’t even talk to me this morning.”

“I was running late. In a rush. Besides…” You step closer to him, rubbing at a splotch of dirt on his cheek. “Seeing how far you went for these? How could I stay mad?”

He entwines his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. “I’m glad.” He sniffles. The two of you stay like that for several beats, until you tug at his shirt.

“We need to get you out of this.”

He looks down at you, raising a brow. “Because it’s filthy,” you clarify.

“Why?” He smirks. “Don’t want me to rub off on you?” he asks, nudging his hips against yours.

“Looks like I already did,” he notes, eyeing your stained white shirt. “Why don’t we both clean up in the shower?” He waggles his brow.

As expected, the two of you end up getting down and even dirtier in the shower.

#akira fudo x reader #devilman crybaby x reader #akira fudo imagine #dmcb imagine #drabble;#tati writes #dmcb thots;

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ramzawrites · 1 year

Text

Dream World - A Sibling!Mutant!Reader Story - Part 4

GEN

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 | Part 5

Pairings: None

Characters included: Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, Raphael

Warnings: n/a

Series: Yes, this is part 4

Summary: Y/N wakes up again and luckily Mikey is there to finally save them from the boredom of the infirmary, giving them a chance to investigate their own room.

Word count: 4498

Authors Note: It’s family bonding time haha, no I didn’t write this while procrastinating work

When Y/N woke up this time they didn’t even question the at this point familiar backdrop of cement. What they were surprised by, was the green blanket that laid across them and the muffled conversation outside the room.

They slowly moved their legs off the edge of the stretcher, pulling the blanket closer around their shoulder as they strained their ears to catch what might be going on outside of the infirmary.

“-freaked out because of their body!”

Something told them that the conversation was about them.

“It’s just a hypothesis but if I’m correct then we have something to work off of!”

“What if it’s too much? What if it does more damage!”

“Leo, that there is basically a different person in the body of our sibling but if I’m correct they are still in there! We just have to… coax them out.”

“Not like this though! Donnie, I literally had to sedate them last time!”

“We don’t have anything else to go off of though!”

“You said it yourself it’s just a hypothesis. What if you are wrong and we will just make it worse?”

“Well, do you have a better idea?”

“…No. Let me think about it, okay? Just… let me think on it.”

Those two voices definitely belonged to Donnie and Leo, obviously discussing Y/N’s condition. They had to wince at how serious their tones were. Somehow, they couldn’t help themself to think that this didn’t fit them. Much preferring their light heartedness from before.

Seeing how their voice slowly became quieter until they couldn’t hear them anymore, Y/N assumed that they walked away from the door. This surprised them a little bit assuming that they stood there to begin with to maybe check up on them. Then again maybe they did already check up on them and were already in the process of walking away.

Feeling a bit restless Y/N began swinging their legs softly around. Taking a good look at how their new legs and feet moved around in their vision.

Taking a deep breath in Y/N slowly lowered one of their feet onto the cold ground. The second foot joined the other as they sat at the very edge of the stretcher. With another shaky breath they finally pushed themself off, balancing their full weight on their new legs.

As they figured beforehand, their body didn’t have any trouble keeping them up. Which made sense in a way, especially after seeing how the other turtles had no problem moving around. There were just a few moments where it was still difficult to wrap their mind around everything.

Carefully Y/N took one step. Watching how their feet moved and reacted as they slowly took a step after step. The green blanket was at this point draped over their shoulders and back, or rather their shell. It was weird knowing that there was a shell on their back. They could feel the soft blanket on their shell, keeping it warm. Even though it was a new addition to their body, it didn’t feel… different. Same thing with the plastron on their chest and stomach. It was just normal.

Y/N was now standing in front of the counter. It looked weird how there was just food standing next to various kinds of medical equipment. There were clamps, gauzes, scissors and even scalpels stored away in see through boxes. Once again though Y/N’s attention was drawn to the random little paintbrush.

They took it inside their hand. Running the bristles along their palms. It was soft. A few speckles of different colors were on the handle of the brush. Some pink, orange, red, green, purple or blue. Yet it still looked like someone took care to properly clean the bristles.

“Oh, nice! You’re awake!”

Y/N whirled around, spotting Mikey standing in front of them. Now that Y/N was standing upright they could tell that they themself were taller than him. Only by a few inches though. The orange spots on his body were almost as bright as the smile that he was giving them.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I just…” They placed the brush back down, feeling like they have been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Mikey didn’t seem to care though “That’s my brush. Normally you would be annoyed that I left that here.”

“I would?”

His smile faltered for a moment only to return into full swing “Yeah but that’s not important right now. I just saw some movement through the door and wanted to check up on you. See if you need anything.”

“Just woke up a second ago… Um, I couldn’t help but overhear Donnie and Leo fighting.” They didn’t know where exactly they wanted to go with this conversation. On one hand they felt a tiny bit guilty that the two were arguing because of them but on the other hand it sounded like they might have an idea what is going on.

Yet when they stopped themself to actually think about how to approach this subject, they saw how Mikey’s eyebrow ridge was pulled down. Oh yikes, he looked annoyed.

“I’m sorry that the two idiots woke you up.” He grumbled as he crossed his arms in front of his plastron.

It was funny, the way he looked disappointedly and angrily at the door, they could swear that Mikey was the older brother who was annoyed with his younger brothers’ antics.

“It’s fine. I did enough sleeping anyhow. I actually feel kind of restless.”

He eyed them as a response for a second “Honestly, I am glad to see you up and about. I was really worried about you last time I saw you, you were really pale. Well as pale as we can get, but if you are up how about a shower and then we can see what to do? Can’t have you die of boredom.”

Y/N nodded slowly “Yeah, a shower sounds nice.” They couldn’t help themself as a soft smirk appeared on their face “Are you saying, I smell?”

Mikey’s happy expression was exchanged with a pout “Aw, come on, Y/N! I’m trying to be nice and accommodating towards you while you are clearly going through it, and you tease me. I can’t fight back!”

Though as soon as his playful pout appeared, his smile returned. An earnest almost relieved smile “But can’t say I’m glad seeing you making jokes. You must be doing better than I thought.”

Yeah, they were inclined to agree. After the first shock of waking up in a new place, in a new body with new people wore off, they couldn’t help but almost feel comfortable. Y/N attributed it towards the fact that the people here had been trying their best to be actually nice. No matter how they tried to look for any bad signs, red flags, there was this small voice inside their head that told them that it was okay to trust them. That everything will be fine.

As they followed Mikey out of the room, they couldn’t help but grasp the blanket closer around their shoulders. Not sure what to expect when Mikey opened the infirmary door for them.

They were inside a tunnel that led into a huge open room. An atrium, maybe? There were skateboarding ramps. Graffiti all across the walls. More tunnels that presumably lead to different rooms. There were train tracks and a few subway cars parked. Honestly when the word lair popped inside their head to describe this place before, they didn’t think much about it. Now they had to think that this word fit this place rather well.

Mikey led Y/N past what they assumed must be the living room. There was a sofa. Beanbags, a couch and a ton of pillows. A projector on a small table. A few more subway cars were stationed here as well.

So, this was definitely an old subway system that probably led further into the sewer system.

There was a door that Mikey stopped in front of.

“Here we are. Take whatever you need, I’ll be just chilling over there where the projector was, so when you are done, we can think about what to do next. Take your time though!”

“Thanks, Mikey.”

And with this Y/N pushed the door open to a surprisingly clean looking bathroom. They weren’t really sure what they expected since this was in an old subway system, but they were glad, nonetheless. Seeing how Leo treated Donnie as the smartest of them all, they assumed this was his doing.

The bathroom had both a shower and a tub, but Y/N didn’t dare to fill a whole bath right now. A simple shower should be fine. Next to the sink, on a small cupboard, were a few differently colored towels placed. They couldn’t help but realize how colorful everything here was. Though seeing how they were mutants stuck in a sewer system only able to really go out at night, it did kind of make sense.

That said their mind was occupied with something else in the room. There was a mirror above the sink.

On one hand Y/N wanted to see what they really looked like now but on the other hand they were scared that inspecting themself like this would make it more real somehow. Yet before they could really think this problem through, their feet moved on their own. It seemed their curiosity won this fight.

They didn’t expect the weird emotions crashing down on them when they stood in front of the mirror. It was a mix of not recognizing the person, or mutant, in front of them but there was also this unmistakable thought of that this was indeed them.

Y/N couldn’t properly explain it even if they wanted to but maybe it was the form of their face. The way their eyes looked. The color of their eyes. This were things they recognized.

They let their blanket fall on the ground so they could take a proper look at their body. There was a dark green mutant with an almost black shell staring back at them. White small spots were littering their body and shell, while a light-yellow plastron covered the front. As they turned their body a bit, so they could take a better look at the shell, they couldn’t help but kind of think how the dark shell together with the white spots looked like stars in the night. Maybe if they connected the dots there would be some star constellations hidden.

It was a good sign to them that they weren’t freaking out in this moment. They did feel a bit queasy at all of this, but they didn’t feel a new panic attack sneaking up on them.

Maybe it did really help that even though their body changed they seemed to somewhat recognize their facial features. They couldn’t rightly place if this was weird, maybe even creepy or if they should somehow be glad about that.

But this also gave them the chance to see. Yep, no eyebrows. Now that they really thought about it how was it even possible that Donnie had eyebrows on his mask.

Finally, they tore their eyes off the reflection. Their concentration back on the task at hand. A shower.

It was a bit weird to just straight up step into the shower since they didn’t need to shed any clothing. But once they stood in the shower and warm water began raining down on them, they relaxed. They had to admit it was rather nice. Especially the way it pattered down on their shell.

And for a moment their mind was quiet. Just enjoying the peace.

That moment passed though as they grabbed for the soap. Lathering it up on their body. The smell was nice. Actually, as they took a tentative sniff at the soap, they realized that it was one of their favorite scents. Maybe this was Y/N Hamato’s doing? Maybe the two had indeed a few similarities. Or, more likely, it was a coincidence.

As they washed the suds off their arms and plastron they had to wonder. Should they try to wash their shell? Was it even possible? Was it necessary? They tried a little bit but gave up when they realized they couldn’t properly reach it anyhow. This should do for now.

Y/N turned off the warm water only to immediately miss said warmth. Not wasting any time, they grabbed a towel and dried themself off. Once they were satisfied, they hung up the towel and laid the blanket back across their shoulders.

They sighed satisfied. Indeed, feeling a bit refreshed after the shower.

A bit nervously they opened the door of the bathroom to step out back into the rest of the lair, immediately making their way towards the living space. It was really just around the corner, but they couldn’t help but be happy to not get lost.

Mikey was laying on the ground, reading a comic. Lazily turning to the next page.

Y/N stepped closer to look at the comic, but Mikey noticed their shadow suddenly. Shrieking in surprise, throwing the comic into the air.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N!” He said accusingly, staring at them with his hand on his chest “You scared me!”

“Sorry, Mikey.” A nervous chuckle following their apology. It was a bit funny.

He scrambled off the ground “I know we are all ninja and stuff, but I always forget how quiet you can be.”

“Seriously. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” They really didn’t. Mikey was probably just too concentrated on his comic to notice them.

“I feel like at least once a month you give me a heart attack.” He laughed lightly only to be met by Y/N’s confused expression.

“Right. Memory stuff. Anyway, I had the idea I’d show you your room! Probably more comfortable than the nasty infirmary.”

Somehow Y/N felt slightly offended at that. The infirmary wasn’t that bad, but a proper bed did sound better. Besides they were a bit curious to see how their supposed room looked like here.

“Lead the way.”

And that he did. Leading them away to one of the parked subway cars. Opening the door for them so Y/N would be the first to step in.

The first thing they noticed was how messy the room was. It wasn’t the kind of mess that made the place look nasty, but it actually somehow added to the comfy feel of the room.

There was a bed with a few teddy bears and fluffy big pillows. A ton of different kind of bits and pieces decorated the room. They were mostly action hero related. There were a few movie posters of movies they didn’t recognize.

Jupiter Jim and the Robo-Buggy Derby? Sounded… interesting.

Though there were also a few posters on the walls of Lou Jitzu and his movies. Their father if Y/N remembered correctly. It was kind of weird to think about that apparently a movie star was the father of five mutant turtles. But he was a mutant as well, wasn’t he?

But what really caught Y/N’s attention was that there were a ton of instruments in this room. A keyboard, a ukulele, a guitar, a recorder and a violin? So, Y/N Hamato loved music, huh.

Mikey bounced over towards the bed to sit down. He did it so naturally, Y/N assumed this was his go to spot in the room.

“So, this is your room. You can hang out here from now on. I mean it is your room.”

“That’s a lot of instruments.” Y/N spoke as they walked over to the keyboard. Lightly brushing their hands on the surface of it.

When they looked back towards Mikey, he gave them a big nod “Yep! The virtuoso of the family.”

Their gaze fell back on their hand that was still on top of the keyboard “That’s… How? Aren’t like most instruments made for people with, you know, ten fingers.”

Mikey shrugged at that “We all asked ourselves that as well! But I think you found your own way past that problem. Something something you don’t always need all ten fingers for a lot…I still think it is the magic of music that let you overcome this problem.”

Y/N let out an amused snort “Sure. I can get behind that.”

“Also, over there are your medical books.”

Y/N turned around with a speed they were sure they could have hurt themself with “Wait, what?”

Mikey’s finger was pointing towards their desk and indeed there were a number of thick books placed all over it. There was a laptop resting next to the books.

They immediately strode over to take a look at the books. Anatomy, Virology and the like. Damn, Y/N Hamato is smart, huh.

“That’s a lot.” They noted as they looked at all the different medical books.

“Didn’t the others tell you that you are the medic of the team?” Mikey sounded genuinely surprised.

Y/N shook their head “No. I assumed Leo filled that role since he was the one who gave me my pain meds and sedated me and stuff.” Not going to lie it still felt weird that they were sedated in the first place. They did tell Leo that it was okay, but they weren’t entirely sure how they felt about it. They weren’t mad. Maybe surprised was the correct word?

“If you are the chief doctor… surgeon… or whatever these are called then Leo would be your nurse, I guess. You taught him here and there for emergencies and because he was interested, which was good because when you got knocked out like that, he could at least take care of your wounds without making it worse.”

“Well, I know nothing about that. I’m just a poor old design student.”

Mikey snickered at that “Yeah, I heard. Donnie was really sad about that.”

“He was?”

He nodded “Yep. You and him were always Team Smart. He concentrates on machines and the like while you loved medicine and did research on our whole mutant situation. So, when he heard that the you now, with these new memories, was a design student he felt like he lost his only non dumb dumb sibling.” As he spoke, he made sure to make air quotes with his hands while saying the words “dumb dumb”.

Well, this might explain Donnie’s weird reaction when he first heard about their major. They couldn’t help but chuckle at this. There were usually a lot of different reactions when people found out about their major. This was a new one for sure.

Y/N slowly opened up a green notebook. It was littered with stickers of skateboards, pizza, turtles and there were four different colored hearts. A red, blue, purple and orange one. The notebook was kind of cute and obviously well loved. There were also a ton of notes sticking out of the side of it. Maybe even some loose papers.

They randomly skipped to a page deep inside the notebook.

These were medical notes. Specifically, about mutagen. Curious to see if they understood anything Y/N took a closer look.

There were sketches of chemical make ups of what they assumed must have been mutagen and their bonds. Notes with how to release these bonds. Honestly it surprised them that they understood that. The way the notes were written down Y/N thought they looked very much like how they would do theirs. Seemed like Y/N Hamato and them had that in common.

They whistled, impressed “Damn. The me you know is smart.”

“You would always say that you learning this all was more out of necessity that later turned into curiosity. It’s not being smart just being dedicated.” At the end he changed his posture and voice.

It took Y/N a second before they realized “Were you trying to imitate… me?”

Mikey grinned “Yeah and doing an amazing job of it!”

“Sure.” It was the first real laugh they let out without feeling somehow guilty or surprised by it. It was just easy to chat with Mikey.

Closing the notebook again Y/N moved over to sit next to Mikey on the bed. Okay, the bed was definitely more comfortable than the stretcher in the infirmary.

They took a look at one of the teddy bears. Smiling at the cute little bear. A few differently colored patched littered his body. Y/N placed it on their lap as their fingers traced along its synthetic fur. Somehow it felt like home.

“Raph gave you this one when we were all kids. He has a ton of these but this one was the one you would always grab whenever you had the chance. So, Raph just gifted you this one. See these stitches? You wouldn’t trust anyone else but Raph to repair him whenever a tear would appear.”

A smile made its way on Y/N’s face. That’s adorable. Their heart swelling at the thought of little kid them running up to their big brother to repair their teddy bear. Not able to help themself, Y/N gave the cute bear a quick little hug before placing it back on the bed against the wall.

Y/N eyes traveled over to Mikey. He was at this point playing with his own hands. His face scrunched together, almost as if he wanted to say something but tried his best to hold back.

“Something on your mind?” Y/N asked, their eyebrows raised in surprise.

Mikey stared at his hands “Oh, just… I don’t know… You have been out for two weeks and all and I would really love to give you a hug because, yay my sibling is awake but… yeah… your memory is all frazzled.” That was one way to describe their memory situation from his perspective.

He did seem like a person with a big heart that probably loved hugs and to him, he had to watch his sibling comatose for two weeks. Y/N had to admit, they felt sympathetic.

So, they just turned their body towards Mikey and opened their arms, similar how they would always do when they tried to cheer one of their younger sisters up. An open invitation that they could either take up on or not.

The way Mikey’s unsure expression turned into a big happy one before he threw himself into their arms, made Y/N’s heart swell. He held strongly on to Y/N, almost crushing their ribs in the process.

“I missed you.” His voice was muffled as he pressed his face into their shoulder.

Y/N just begun rubbing soothing patterns against his shell. Their older sibling instinct kicking in as they tried to console him. They wanted to say something as well but what could they possibly say? “I missed you too?” Of course not. Only even knowing of his existence for maybe a day or two. But they also couldn’t help to feel protective over him as he seemingly reminded them of their own younger sisters. They held on to him as well. After all of this shock and confusion it was kind of nice to get hugged like that.

Suddenly there were loud footsteps and the door to the room got pushed open. A frantic looking turtle mutant scanned the room only to spot Y/N and Mikey. Mikey was almost holding on to them like a little monkey would to a tree.

The tall mutant wore a red bandana and had a spiky shell. The last of the brothers. This must be Raphael.

He immediately relaxed when he spotted the two “Man, here you are. We got really worried when we didn’t spot you in the infirmary, Y/N.” He chuckled.

Mikey decided to let go of Y/N so he could give Raph his full attention “Something tells me you were the only one worried.”

Raph’s face immediately contorted into a grimace that just screamed that Mikey hit the nail on the head “What? No.” He coughed to look back “Found them! They are in their room!”

“See, Hermano! I told you they would still be at home! Don’t think they feel confident enough to go out of the lair.” Leo spoke from behind, peering into the room.

Y/N nodded towards Leo “Yeah. That.”

“I just thought it would be nice for them if they stayed in their actual room. You know, it’s comfier here. Also, they were bored.” Mikey explained.

Raph nodded, accepting his reasoning “True enough. You doing okay, Y/N?”

They immediately nodded “Oh, yeah! All good! Mikey told me a few things about myself and stuff.” Well, it wasn’t necessarily them but continuing to say “the me you know” was getting tiring and complicated.

“And that wasn’t too much?” Raph seemed like a bit of a worrywart, Y/N noted.

“No. It was nice. Though quite the shocker to learn that the I was actually smart. The way they wrote their notes though is very similar how I do it.” They weren’t really sure why they told him all that, but it ended with a smile on his face.

“I’m glad to hear that. If you are okay, maybe we could do a bit of a movie marathon? Since you are bored and all.”

“And it’s our favorite family activity!” Mikey exclaimed happily.

“I do like my movies… besides something tells me that you guys won’t be happy to hear that I can’t seem to remember the Lou Jitzu movies and … Jupiter Jim? You know, judging how there are posters of these movies all over the room.”

There were three gasps and one pronounced “Gasp!” Seems like Donnie was also standing behind Raph.

“No, this… our own sibling! Betrayal! The pain!” Leonardo exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest right where his heart is, letting himself flop forward. Raph reacted immediately, grabbing on to him so he wouldn’t smack right on to the floor.

Mikey held onto Y/N again, this time with glossy eyes “You don’t remember any Lou Jitzu or Jupiter Jim movies?!”

“The life you lived sounds like it sucked.” Donnie also exclaimed.

Wow, this hit them harder than Y/N expected.

“Just means you guys can see my first reaction to the movies… again? I guess? Kind of?” They tried to ease the minds of the other mutants.

“It’s emergency movie marathon time!” Raph exclaimed, immediately walking out of the room. Still holding on to Leo who was fake wailing. Donnie was close by as he followed his brothers.

These were sure some characters.

“Mikey, I can’t get up with you holding on to me like that.”

But he didn’t let go “You never saw any of these movies? For real?”

Y/N tentatively shook their head “As far as I know… these movies… don’t… exist… where… I’m… from…?”

Mikey’s hands clasped their face suddenly “This is the saddest thing I have ever heard.” His arms going back around their shoulders to keep holding on to them, as if they would fall apart if he didn’t.

This time Y/N patted his head and just said “There. There.”

#rottmnt x reader #rottmnt reader insert #rottmnt #reader insert #rottmnt x leo #rottmnt x donnie #rottmnt x mikey #rottmnt x raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #ramza writes

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sej2020 · 2 years

Text

You felt the familiar sensation enter the planet long before you saw the young girl. Seeing the gun fire on the roof, you didn’t think. You sprinted as fast as you could to your… home, you couldn’t even call it that. It was a room in a building tricked out with alarms and bogies to protect you while you slept after work at the dive bar down the street. Opening up your hidden safe you built from scratch, you grabbed your familiar weapon, warmth spreading through you, more so when you put on your familiar dark cloak with your hood up.

Without looking back you silently tracked the two life forms to the cargo port, sensing the high sister making her way inside also. Keeping to the shadows you watched, seeing the girl run off and her companion cornered. You launched forward, placing your hand over the man’s mouth and the other over his hand forcing his sabre down.

‘Not yet, let me’ you whispered into the man’s ear.

Seeing the familiarity in the man’s stormyeyes, which you noted had lost some of its sparkle, you let him go, quickly using the force you made some distractions, allowing the man to edge closer to his planned exit. Grabbing onto the man’s cloak you pressed your finger to your lips just as a second set of footsteps entered the area. Quickly you both made your way onto the ship, flying out of the system.

‘Who are you?’ asked the young girl.

‘My names Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness’ you said bowing towards the young girl.

‘How do you know Ben?’ asked Leia.

‘We use to be friends’ you said softly taking down your hood, looking at the man.

‘Oh, are you not friends now?’ asked Leia persisting.

‘I think we are, we just haven’t seen each other for a long time’ you said softly your eyes never leaving the man.

‘I’m going to have a look around you two are acting weird’ said Leia leaving.

‘Wow, she’s just like her mother’ you said with a fond chuckle.

‘You shouldn’t be here, it’s too dangerous’ said Obi Wan.

‘It’s been dangerous since the war, this is hardly different to me hiding in a dive bar’ you commented dryly.

‘Still, you should go on your way, you need to stay hidden away from me’ said Obi Wan turning away.

‘Because of the boy?’ You said making the man turn back to you.

‘How do you know about the boy?’ Asked Obi Wan.

‘I was on Dagobah, Master Yoda is residing there, he told me’ you spoke honestly.

‘That would explain it’ snorted Obi Wan.

‘Hi…. Obi Wan’ you whispered tilting your head, a lonely tear escaping your eye rolling down your cheek.

‘Hi’ whispered Obi Wan brokenly opening his arms to you, embracing you tightly as you both wrapped your arms around each other.

‘I’m so happy to find you alive’ you whispered into the man’s shoulder.

‘Me too… but you have to leave’ said Obi Wan making you pull away sharply.

‘What?’ You said wiping at your eye.

‘You can’t be around me, it’s too dangerous’ said Obi Wan.

‘Obi Wan… I don’t want to go back to being on my own… tell me you don’t want that, and I’ll let you be’ you said fiercely.

‘I can’t’ whispered Obi Wan.

‘You have nightmares too’ you said studying the man properly.

‘I do’ said Obi Wan his body becoming smaller.

‘You know about Vader too’ you said sensing the man’s thoughts.

‘How do you…. You always know’ said Obi Wan curling more into himself.

‘It’s not a gift not really, but finding you, it’s the greatest gift the force has ever given me’ you said. ‘Master Yoda said you might need help, and I want to help you, but you need accept it’

‘I don’t want to be alone’ whispered Obi Wan.

‘Ok, Obi Wan, I’m here’ you said sensing the man’s turmoil.

‘Hi’ said Obi Wan, accepting you back into his arms, slumping into the warmth of your embrace.

‘Oh Obi Wan, times not been kind to you’ you said running your fingers through the man’s hair, feeling the man’s weight fall more and more onto you.

#obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 2 years

Text

U N P L A N N E D, the first kiss

Harry’s phone sat on the edge of Jeff’s desk, a three-way call with Dave and Y/N on a Wednesday afternoon.

“I wouldn’t advise to inform anyone outside of family at this point,” Dave said, his tone was firm and Harry could imagine the way Y/N rolled her eyes.

Home from work, she’d texted before he called and beeped Dave in. She was nervous, morning sickness and her growing belly made her coworkers suspicious and Y/N felt like it was only a matter of time before it became uncomfortably obvious.

“With all due respect,” Y/N’s voice sounded through the phone, “you don’t have to go to work every morning and hide your pregnancy or try to not throw up 24/7--”

Harry’s eyes went wide and he smiled at her boldness, Jeff smiled a little too but cut her off.

“I think she’s got a point, Dave,” Jeff interjected. “She can tell them she’s pregnant and not disclose that it’s Harry’s.”

“Right,” Harry agreed. “Or we could draw up an NDA.”

“We certainly need to draw up an NDA,” Dave said quickly.

“Well then hop to it, Dave,” Harry tried to joke to lighten the mood. Jeff rolled his eyes and leaned closer to the phone.

“Yeah--we can work on that, Dave, and Y/N--if you could send me and Dave an email with the names of the coworkers you want to tell that would be a huge help.”

“Got it,” she said through the phone. She hung up only a few seconds later, a bitter farewell between Y/N and Dave had Harry laughing to himself when he ended the call.

“Never thought she’d stick it to Dave like that,” he leaned back on the couch in Jeff’s home office and sighed.

“She’s got a feisty side,” Jeff commented, turning back to his computer quickly.

“Well she’s probably sick of being told how to handle her pregnancy by a bunch of men.”

Jeff raised his eyebrows at that, apparently caught off guard by Harry’s defensiveness or abrasiveness or both.

“Yeah--no--I just, I hope things are going well.”

“Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Hey,” Jeff raised a hand and turned to see his friend. “I don’t mean anything by that. I’m on your side.”

“Doesn’t always feel like it, if I’m being honest.”

Jeff sighed, slumped in his chair for a second and thought. Again--it wasn’t that Jeff had anything against Y/N. He’d love for nothing more than Harry to get the family he always wanted--to be a dad and to have someone he loved and spent his life with.

Maybe that would be Y/N.

But for some reason, Jeff wasn’t sold.

Not because he didn’t like Y/N--more because it felt too good to be true that the woman Harry accidentally knocked up could wind up being the perfect match for him.

“I’m sorry, man,” Jeff tried again. “I’m just protective and nervous and--”

“I am, too, Jeff. You keep saying we’re on the same side but I don’t even think you remember that half of the time. I want to do the right thing, too. I don’t want to be stupid or get hurt or something.”

“I get that,” Jeff shrugged, albeit a little hesitantly when Glenne knocked on the door.

“Hi,” she smiled, a step into the room to greet Jeff upon her return from work. “Are you always here now?”

“No,” Harry rolled his eyes at her. “Just on days that end in y.”

“We had to talk to Dave and Y/N about some stuff,” Jeff informed, a look to Harry in warning. “He’s leaving soon.”

“I am,” Harry nodded, still relaxed on the couch with no intent of getting up. “I do have a question, Glenne.”

She was back by the doorway now, still dressed in a blazer and heels as she waited with raised brows for Harry to spit it out.

“Don’t get weird when I ask this, okay?” He looked at both of them, a smirk tugging at his lips when Jeff swiveled in his chair to face them. Glenne made a face but Harry kept going. “What--uh--what kind of things has Y/N said to you about all of this?”

“About getting pregnant with your baby?” Glenne nodded slowly to make sure she had it right.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, aside from freaking the fuck out at first because this is not the plan she had,” Glenne laughed a little, sympathetic for her friend but also amused by the way she’d relaxed into her new friendship with Harry. “She’s okay, she’s excited now, I think. Nervous, for sure, but she’s getting better.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Not exactly the answer he was looking for, but that was his fault for being vague. “Sorry--I--uh, has she said anything about me?”

Jeff laughed at that, shook his head and turned back to his computer. Apparently this wasn’t something he needed to pay attention to.

Glenne smiled a little, leaned against the doorway and crossed her arms. “Why?”

“Why?” Harry asked, chin tucked against his chest. “Because she’s having my baby.”

“It’s hers too, you know.”

“Our baby,” Harry corrected before pushing again. “What has she said?”

Glenne shrugged, obviously contemplating what she should divulge and what felt like it would lead Y/N to absolutely lose her shit should she find out that Glenne wasn’t as tight-lipped as expected.

“I don’t know, Harry--not much,” she turned and headed back towards the kitchen, grabbing a seltzer from the fridge when he followed behind quickly.

“You see her once a week and you expect me to believe I’ve never come up?”

“Your ego is showing!” Jeff called from the other room.

Glenne watched him with narrowed eyes, took a sip as Harry waited patiently next to the island. “She said you want to get to know her more.”

“I do.”

“In a normal way or in a…different way?” Glenne wiggled her eyebrows and Harry looked at her like she had three heads.

“Not following.”

“Do you have feelings for her?”

“What? No--I don’t--I mean, she’s lovely, I like hanging out with her a lot--”

“And you think she’s attractive and smart,” Glenne filled in some of the blanks.

“Is that a crime?” He asked.

“No,” Glenne smiled. “I just think you guys are gonna bang again.”

“Glenne,” Harry made a face at that. “She’s pregnant with my child.”

“It’s hers too!” Glenne reached forward and gave Harry a punch in the arm.

“Alright--thanks for nothing,” he shrugged playfully, went back to Jeff’s office to grab his phone and the Nalgene he brought everywhere. He pushed his sunglasses on his face and called over his shoulder as he let himself out. “See you whenever!”

Glenne stood there for a second, watched him walk out and laughed to herself before Jeff appeared in the doorway.

“She’s got it bad for him too?”

Glenne nodded. “This will either be amazing, or really, really messy.”

Harry was a regular at Dr. Weston’s office, so much so that he’d read every pamphlet in the waiting room and now greeted the nurses by name when they led Y/N down the same hallway and into the same room with the giant vagina poster.

Y/N--on this lovely afternoon--didn’t seem as impressed by Harry’s charm as she usually did.

He turned around and held a hand over his eyes, a dramatic show of privacy when Y/N took the gown out of his outstretched hand and slipped it over her shoulders. “What’s your problem?”

He pouted and looked at her over his shoulder. “You don’t even care that I’m extremely well read.”

“One of those was a pamphlet about gestational diabetes–which I don’t even have,” she climbed up onto the exam table.

“I’m just trying to care, okay? However will you forgive me?”

She fought the smile on her face, “I appreciate your caring. And your reading.”

“Good,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat back in his seat. “You should. Where do you want to go to dinner tonight?”

She scrunched her lips in thought. “Know any good barbeque places? Some ribs sound so good.”

His eyebrows lifted, he watched her for a second when a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Easier than he expected.

“What?” She asked, shoulders tense. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He broke eye contact for a second, let out a tiny laugh and then looked back up at her, a shit-eating grin on his face that he didn’t even bother to hide. “Just didn’t know it’d be that easy to get you to hang out with me.”

“Oh shut up,” she giggled, adjusting on top of the sanitary paper. “I’m hungry. It’s almost dinnertime anyway.”

“The only bad news is that I don’t know a good barbeque place.”

“That is bad news,” she agreed. “There’s one near my house. We can just go there. Or–get take out.”

“Is Lexi home tonight?”

She nodded.

“We could invite Glenne and Jeff, too, if you want. Or it could be just us, that’s fine.”

Harry would have loved a night alone with Y/N--but something in him thought that a group dinner date might help both Jeff and Glenne realize that Harry and Y/N were fine. They were friends. They were getting to know each other and neither Jeff nor Glenne needed to waste any time being nervous that this would implode.

Y/N didn’t have a chance to answer, though, before Dr. Weston knocked and offered a smile, how are both parents feeling?

She asked the same questions: new symptoms? Any bleeding? Mood? Appetite? Headaches? So far so good, no major symptoms and Harry realized that Y/N’s eyelashes curled up perfectly in a way that made his palms sweaty.

Dr. Weston turned to the ultrasound machine and pressed a few buttons, waking the screen up when Y/N laid back and assumed the regular position. This time, Harry pulled his chair up to be right beside her, as close as possible, when Dr. Weston prepped the probe with jelly.

“Definitely growing in there,” she smiled, reaching up to point at the screen.

Harry leaned forward in shock. “Wow–she actually looks like a baby now.”

“Yeah,” Dr. Weston laughed a bit. “Less of a plum and more a baby.” But she turned, after that, her eyebrows furrowing at the screen before she looked at Harry again. “How did you know it’s a girl?”

“It’s a girl?” Y/N asked, lifting herself on her elbows to look at the screen closer. “How do you know?”

Dr. Weston turned the screen to show you better, moved the probe along Y/N’s lower tummy.

“Well–if she weren’t, we’d see something right there between her legs.”

“So I’m right?” Harry looked at Y/N with wide eyes, a smug look of excitement on his face. “We’re having a girl?”

“You are,” Dr. Weston nodded. “I hope it’s okay that you know now.”

Harry clapped his hands together and stood from his seat. “I knew it, Y/N. I totally called it.”

He had to text his mum and sister, they’d been dying to know and begging to buy whatever they could to help prepare. Y/N sat up on the table and looked over at Harry, a sweet smile on her face when Harry felt his heart skip a beat.

“S’a girl!”

“I know,” she nodded, voice quiet when she watched him. Harry held her gaze for a second, both of their lips pointed up at the corners.

Dr. Weston ducked out of the room quietly and then Harry clicked his phone shut.

“Did you already tell everyone we know?”

“No,” he laughed, letting it fall into his pocket. “Just my mum and sister.”

She hopped down from the table and he handed over her clothes. He watched her turn around, let the gown slip over her left shoulder as she tugged her shirt over her head. Harry turned to look out the window, but he didn’t feel bad when his eyes wandered over to appreciate the exposed skin.

“Are you happy it’s a girl?” He asked.

“I’m happy she’s healthy, and that I’m healthy,” she laughed, turning around to see him once her shorts were back in place. “But yes–a girl will be fun.”

“We’d make anything fun,” he said, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her shoulders. She looked up at him and smiled, and it wasn’t lost on Harry that she fit perfectly against him.

Jeff’s mouth was wide open, he was still, a look of shock on his face as Glenne let out a laugh loud enough that it could set off a car alarm.

“Don’t,” Harry groaned, his eyes pleading with Y/N to not embarrass him any further.

“They were expired?!” Lexi’s eyes were wide, she looked between the two of them from her spot on the floor, take out on her lap. “That’s fucked man.”

“I didn’t know they were, obviously!” He defended.

Glenne shrugged her shoulders. “Just getting laid that infrequently.”

“Alright,” Harry rolled his eyes at the teasing. “S’not my primary residence.”

“So wait,” Jeff said. “When did you find this out?”

“When she was over once for dinner. Gave her the grand tour and we obviously had to stop by the scene of the crime,” Harry borrowed the language she once used to describe the bedroom.

“He can definitely cook but apparently he doesn’t read expiration dates,” Y/N laughed.

“So it’s all your fault,” Lexi laughed, reaching for another drink. “Bet that was tough news.”

Harry would have replied, would have made some type of comment about how what had started out as an accident was now making him wake up every day with a smile on his face. But his phone rang and he had to take it. “One day you’re all going to feel terrible for saying that when you’re in love with our baby. It’s John–I’ll take it outside.”

Jeff came out eventually when Harry motioned for him, a conversation about a release night show. Harry stole glances through the sliding glass door as Y/N and Glenne and Lexi laughed in the living room, a quick thought about what it’d be like to have a baby on his hip as he paced on the patio out back.

But eventually they ate take out and Jeff and Glenne stood by the door to say goodnight.

“Alright, my dear,” Glenne smiled at Y/N. “Eat well, sleep well, take care of that sweet little muffin.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “So far, so good.”

Jeff waited as Glenne put her wine glass in the sink, hands on his hips when he looked to Harry. “Are you hitting the road too?”

So this was the anxiety Y/N felt. Was he allowed to stay? Would Jeff think it was a bad idea? Most importantly, did Harry care what Jeff thought? “Uh–might stay for a bit, if that’s alright?”

Now he looked at Y/N, Glenne’s eyes were a bit wide, a smirk threatened to twist her lips into a full blown smile.

“Yeah,” she said, looking around at all of them. “S’fine.”

So they said goodnight and left the two of them alone, Y/N turned to Harry once the door latched behind them.

“Would you actually tell me if Jeff hated me?”

“Why would he hate you?”

“Because you got me pregnant.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” he shook his head, a smile tugged at his lips. “S’my fault, remember?”

“He might not see it that way.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “I just know.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me, I would know if he hated you. He’s a terrible liar. He’d never be able to hang out with you if he didn’t like you.”

She was quiet, looked back down at the remote in her hands and picked at the skin around her thumb. Lexi had already gone to bed, the living room was quiet with the heavy air between them. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if she felt it too, whatever it was.

He turned himself towards her on the couch, voice quiet when his head dipped to the side. “Why are you nervous about that?”

She smiled a little, a guilty one, like she knew her anxiety was getting the best of her. “I’m still trying to get over the whole fear about ruining your life.”

He rolled his eyes at that, a laugh escaping his lips when his arm reached up to the back of the couch. “You’re ridiculous! I can tell you a thousand times and you won’t believe me.”

“Probably not.”

He raised his eyebrows and watched her for a second. “You didn’t ruin my life.”

“Okay.” She stood from the couch and moved towards the kitchen, bringing the glass that Lexi had left behind over to the dishwasher. She smiled a little, stole a glance at him over her shoulder when he stood to follow behind.

“I mean it,” he laughed.

She turned around, hands on the counter as she looked at him. For a second, Harry’s eyes darted down to her lips, wondering if they tasted sweet like honey.

When he looked back up at her eyes she looked scared, afraid, something had washed over her that had Harry’s stomach in a knot.

Her voice was barely above a whisper, the clock on the wall ticked when she finally admitted: “I just don’t want you to leave.”

He took a step forward, brows furrowed. “Tonight?”

“No–like, in general.”

His lips parted at that, a pause before he sighed, another step forward.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to be weird. I’m just–scared sometimes.”

“I know,” he was close now, his chest almost pressed against hers. He let his fingers reach up to tug at the hem of her shirt, a desire to touch her that now always lingered nearby. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded, stared down at the floor now as if looking up in his eyes was too risky. Harry felt the same rush of adrenaline, the same jolt of electricity down his spine when he leaned in to press his lips to hers.

Sweeter than honey, he decided. Definitely sweeter.

table of contents | talk to me | the playlist

AN: SWEETER THAN HONEY?!?!!?!?!?! wow i love them.

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