#tagged him so everyone that has the tag blocked doesn’t see this

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: have a wondeful thursday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Queen Jazlene slumps against her chair. She’s barely awake as her eyes glaze over. Despite your deflections at serving her, she’d drunk herself to excess, swiping away goblets that weren't hers. Her constant imbibition has not been missed by her husband. Slanted looks and gristly whispers did little to deter her, your own gentle girding only fuelling her irritation. 

The king stands, stepping forward to overshadow his slouching queen. He raises a hand to the remaining crowd; the clumsy and drunken dancers, the chittering ladies, and the boasting lords. They turn their attention to him and hush. 

“So I must retire for the night, I bid you all a hearty rest,” he pronounces, “and may tomorrow see a brighter sun shine upon us all.” 

A hurrah is sent up in return and the king waits until the large hall falls back into its previous din. He turns slowly, his head down, and flares his nostrils at his queen. His golden eyes skim up and down the table. 

“Come,” he takes her hand, “let us get you abed.” 

Jazlene yawns and hiccups. She does not resist as he tugs her to her feet, though she teeters once upright. He swiftly hooks his arm around her, keeping her away from the view of the hall. He huffs heavily and ushers her around the bench. 

“Maid,” he demands over his shoulder. 

You follow as he carries on, finding a door behind the high table. The dimness of the corridor fogs around his figure as Jazlene’s slippers begin to drag. She babbles and gurgles. 

“I warned you not to drink so much,” he mutters, “why can you not obey? Why can you not just do what is best for you?” 

You tread behind them silently. The king falters and grunts, scooping up his wife before she can slip further down his arm. As he lifts her, her head lolls back over his thick bicep. He growls and presses onward. 

As he reaches her chamber door, you come around to open it for him. He doesn’t say a word as he enters and you wait near the entrance as he lays Jazlene down on the bed. She is very silent and still, only the subtle rise and fall of her chest suggesting a glimmer of life. 

You peer around as the king looms over her, his hand on the post of the bed as he simmers at her. His other arm bends as he rubs the bridge of his nose. You go to the vanity and take the now cool basin of water. You reach into your apron pocket as you hug the large bowl and cross to the bed. 

You pull out a cloth as you sit on the edge of the mattress and balance the bowl against your bent leg. You wet the fabric and lean over the queen to wipe her face. The kohl around her eyes has begun to smear and a sheen of sweat layers over her rich skin. You sense the king watching your deliberate tending. 

“You are good to her,” he remarks. 

“She will not feel well in the morning,” you say, “I will make sure she has water to drink and a warm compress when she wakes, your highness.” 

He’s quiet as he considers your words, “you will stay with her?” 

You wring out the cloth and fold it over the edge of the basin before moving it back to the vanity. You face the king and clasp your hands over your apron, “she cannot be alone when she has drunk so much. Once...” you shake your head and let the statement taper out, “your highness, she will need me.” 

“Hmm,” he pulls his hand off the post, pacing around the end of the bed and turn towards you, “once what?” 

“Nothing, your highness. It was only a memory I had. It doesn’t matter now.” 

“I would like to hear it,” he insists. 

You swallow down the dryness in your throat, “your highness, well, her mother, the duchess, she is the same about wine. Once she drank overly much that she did not wake when her stomach revolted. If we’d not been there to watch over her, she might have choked on it.” 

“Ah, yes,” he stops, just a step away, “that would be unfortunate. I will thank you then for keeping a close eye on my lady wife.” 

“As is my duty, your highness.” 

His eyes blaze down at you and he shifts on his feet, “but will you sleep?” 

“Me? I rest in the cart--” 

“We will not leave on the morrow, I have business yet in the capital,” he explains, “when the lady is awake, you will make certain she is conscious, then you will go and seek rest of your own.” 

“Your highness, how generous, but she would need to break her fast, and dress anew, perhaps bathe--” 

“There are other maids in this castle. I am commanding you to retire for the day. You will need strength for our pending departure,” he bids, “to serve your queen upon the road.” 

You bow your head, apologetic, “your highness, I did not mean to argue. Certainly, I will do as you say. Thank you for minding me.” 

He inches forward and your shoulders slant as you shrink for his closeness. You see his thick fingers twiddle at his side and his hot breath blasts over you like a brazier. He cautiously bends his arm and touches the front of your apron. You quiver as you watch his calloused hand climb up the stained fabric. He pauses and shudders, pinching the loose thread poking out from the belt. He pulls it loose and rolls it between his fingertips. 

“You will have new clothes,” he backs away, feeling the thread, twisting it, “you are a queen’s maid now. Not some castle sweep.” 

You squeeze your hands tighter as you stare at his tunic, “yes, your highness. Thank you anon.” 

He turns on his sole reluctantly and looks upon the bed. You follow his gaze to his subdued wife. He hangs his head and puts his back to you before he pivots toward the door. He stalks toward it and pulls it open with enough strength to make the hinges whine. 

“Good night, little maid,” he drawls just before the door snaps shut in his stead. 

You raise your eyes completely and stare at the heavy wooden slats of the door. Your chest is knotted so tight you can hardly breathe. The king’s displeasure lingers even his absence. Is he unhappy with his inebriate wife or is it you? You quickly dismiss the latter. You don’t matter so much. No, his marriage is not an easy one thus far. 

⚔️

You only know Queen Jazlene is awake as she spits bile onto the floor. Her head hangs over the side of the bed as she wretches and spews, coughing and gagging until she goes limp and groans. The acidic smell permeates the chamber and you come forward to clean it away with a cloth. 

Once you’ve sopped up the mess, you leave her to dispose of the smelly rags and return with a cool, fresh basin and a new cloth. You help her onto her back, propping her against the pillows and clean her face anew. She moans as she keeps her eyes closed, a ripple in her forehead. 

“Too bright,” she mutters. 

“I will draw the curtains, your highness,” you assure her as you rescind the cloth and rise to do so. 

She winces as you pull the heavy drapes together and groans, “my husband... did he not see back to my chamber?” 

“He carried you here, your highness,” you explain, “you were not feeling well.” 

“Mm, I still do not,” she decries. 

“Shall I call for a bath?” You suggest. 

“Do what you will but be quiet,” she hisses as she shades her eyes beneath her long fingers. 

She gurgles as she sinks down and rolls upon her side. She curls up and you stare at her back. You go to the door and ease it open. You emerge and pass between the guards without. You are no more than a draught to them. As you approach the stairs, your name is called from ahead. You peer down the next corridor. 

“Eh, there you are,” Bryce approaches. You can tell by the shine in his hair that he has bathed, “and what mission has you so intent?” 

“I am to fetch lemon water for the queen. She has a sour stomach,” you say and turn back to the steps.  

The soldier descends apace with you and chortles, “as she would. She can drain an ewer like no other I’ve seen.” 

“Mm,” you hum grimly. 

“Ah, pardon, I do not mean to be cruel,” he says, “it is only... often we reap what we sow, yes?” 

“I suppose,” you allow. 

“Speaking of, mouse, it is your turn to reap,” he spins and stretches his arm across your path, “king’s orders.” 

You shake your head in confusion. 

“The queen--” 

“I will send another for her lemon water. But our dear liege and lord has bid that you rest your head. And I do concur. You are only mortal, little mouse.” 

“But I must--” 

“Obey your king,” he insists and rescinds his arm, crossing it with his other across his chest. “I’ve been given leave to treat you as prisoner if ye resist but I do not wish to go so far.” 

You frown. You recall the night before. The king’s orders are not forgotten but you thought perhaps they mightn’t be standing. You bow your head and press your palm to your stomach, another memory flitting through your mind. The king’s hand brushing along the belt of your apron. 

“I’ve acquired you a fine chamber,” Bryce says. “Gods, how could one ever be so glum about a bed of their own?” 

“Sir, I am not unhappy,” you counter. “I am...” you lift your head, “tired.” 

“Oh, how the fates align,” he quips, “come then. There is a bath and new dress too. I was too kind to mention it but you were starting to smell a bit too close to Daisy.” 

You can’t but laugh and snort, “hey!” 

“May as well take benefit in staying still,” he says, “now, let us hurry before the water is cold.” 

You acquiesce and follow him away from the kitchen. You hope Jazlene is not discontent with your straying. You walk along several corridors and up to the second floor again. You do not expect to stop at one of thick doors meant for nobility. 

“In here,” Bryce takes out an iron key and unlocks the door. He pushes it open and steps back. “I will come in an hour to look in on you but I trust by then you will be abed.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you affirm. 

“Be certain to have some of the food,” he orders you, “much better than the goat meat I’ve been chewing on.” 

You thank him one last time and enter on your own. He closes the door behind you and you hear the lock twist. The loud grind of cogs does not unsettle you. It’s rare you ever have a moment of solace, though often you feel alone. 

You look around the chamber. It is much too grand for you. There is a wide bed at one end with a long canopy. The window lets in a warm breeze as the steam coiling from the large tub dampens the air. The furniture here is just as fine as that in the queen’s rooms. 

You meander around and stop before the covered tray on the round table. You lift the lid and reveal an assortment of fruit and cooked oats drizzled with honey. Your stomach roars and clenches painfully. Without a thought, you sit on the stool to gulp the porridge from the brim. You empty near half the bowl before you stop to catch your breath. 

You pluck at the citrus and devour the fruit with delighted purrs. When you have glutted your hunger to the point of discomfort, you lick your lips and rise. You near the tub as untie your apron. Your body aches for the heat of the water. 

You leave the layers of your filthy garments on the floor and step into the depths. You sigh as you lower yourself in. Relief seeps through your flesh and enshrines you. You lay back for a time and bask in the calm. Before the water can cool, you sit up to scrub yourself clean. 

When you finish, you climb out and pull on the shift folded on the top of the stack; a dress, and apron, stockings, and even shoes. There is no cap. You fish around your disposed clothing and retrieve your own. You soak it in the bathwater, wringing it out until it’s not so browned. 

A knock comes at the door. You sit on the edge of the mattress and call to the visitor, “hello?” 

“Eh, it’s me,” Bryce’s salty timbre comes through the wood, “you sleep now, mouse.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He taps the door and you hear his footsteps fade away. You recline across the bed and stare up at the canopy. You close your eyes but your stomach is uneasy. You don’t know why. The bed is too soft, the linens too fluffy. 

You puff and sit up. You get to your feet and circle around the bed to the short bench across the foot of it. You tuck yourself onto the barely cushioned wood and bend your legs to fit. You fold and arm under your head. Much better. 

It isn’t very long before you succumb to your fatigue. You don’t realise how tired you truly are until you’re buried in sleep. Heavy and dark, almost suffocating. 

Behind your eyelids, you see streaks of colour, curling and rolling into visions. Shadowy forests and endless roads, the clop of horse hooves, the rattle of axles, and the crunch of boots in the dirt. The preening whine of the Queen as she splashes wine across your face. You gasp through the acrid sprinkle and fall backwards into air.  

You land on a heap of hay. You’re back in Debray, in the barn where you would flit away with Merinda to eat or even steal a nap. She would watch at the window and you would doze or nibble. You look over but do not see her. Instead, another stands at the opening.  

The king’s silver white hair hangs in waves down his muscled back. He wears only breeches as he stares off into the distance. The window greys with a storm beyond, pulsing from shades of dove feather to harrowing black. He faces you and his golden eyes glow like a wolf’s. 

You sit up and whimper. He prowls closer and closer, thunder crashing as a great gust blows through the barn. Then all at once, the tempest subsides and the wooden walls turn to stone. You’re trapped beneath something unbreakable, like iron, wrists bound. You look at your arms, pinned by large hands. You look above you and find yourself straddled beneath the king. 

He leans in, closer and closer, his fiery breath razing over you. 

“Little maid...” 

His growl snakes around your neck and you wake with a start. The bench teeters as you sit up, your hand gripping your forehead. You blink and look around, clearing the haze from your sleepy eyes. 

Just as in your dream, you are not alone. 

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #winter's king #the witcher

[arthur-r]

also had the worst jumpscare yesterday at the dining hall i watched my ex walk out of the convenience store and then immediately aspired to just not notice him and let him take the lead on whether or not we are people who talk to each other, but looking back on it he almost 100% saw me see him and now assumes that i have personally decided to be people who don’t interact. which is FINE because he’s the fucking worst and i hate him. but GOD i just want him to come over and talk to me so i can even make a case for myself. like i’m still just looking for the opportunity to say “hey i was so on board to be friends but i don’t feel like you’ve treated me with respect or regard for my existence as a human being” but instead he just sees me duck behind walls and thinks “man what a weirdo who just randomly decided to hate me for the sole reason that i wasn’t romantically interested anymore. wow that’s so shallow and rude of him”

#and he PROBABLY doesn’t direct that amount of regard to me now either. he probably thinks fucking nothing of it #but like. i do not want to be the reason this relationship failed!!!! and i mean. i fucking wasn’t cause he’s an asshole #and i mean he didn’t CLAIM for me to be the reason it failed either. he really did the whole breakup pragmatism objectively well #but like. idk. he broke up with me because he didn’t like me anymore. but i should have broken up with him for treating me terribly #way before he even had any inkling of breaking up with me. back when that idea was just a sparkle in his eye… i should have dumped him shdh #so i’m just always going to be missing closure because i deserved to stand up for myself and i never did #anyway next time i see him i’m going to meet his gaze. we’ll see how that goes #ACTUALLY. we have the same fucking glasses prescription. if i can’t see him he can’t see me #i mean. he can see me. but he has the same uncertainty as to whether i looked at him or ignored him as i do the other way around #that’s actually really reassuring. all these moments where i haven’t been sure what interaction we had. he’s in the same position #ANYWAY i hope everyone is well. sorry for being all hung up on my ex i’ll make a block tag actually #ex talk #<- will use this whenever i vent or complain about him from now on #vent cw #me. my post. mine. #delete later

[luv4fushi]

cw: nsfw. fem!reader & afab!reader minors dni (block my nsfw tag) ageless blogs dni

thinking about 20-year-old megumi who looks so much like his dad that of course the boy has girls staring at him everywhere he goes. he’s got the same brownish green eyes as his dad, the same dark hair, and the same face—and it doesn’t help that his stoic personality is like a flame to a swarm of moths. he’s tall, well-built from his years of training, and essentially a carbon copy of toji—maybe a little bit of gojo, too, because he’d been raised by the eccentric white-haired sorcerer.

“you look so much like your dad,” gojo says every chance he gets. he shivers and then scowls st the memory of toji.

everyone else claims he looks like gojo—only because he’s so pretty that it makes sense to be compared to the man who had raised him and not the sorcerer killer.

but what everyone doesn’t know is that megumi isn’t a carbon copy of toji or gojo. he’s got one thing that sets him apart physically and it’s his hands.

megumi’s hands are gorgeous. his fingers are long and a little thin. they’re a bit veiny too, which makes you drool even though you hate to admit it. he’s got piano hands and you shamelessly stare at them whenever he taps his fingers on surfaces. his cuticles are always moisturized and his nails are trimmed—he claims it’s because his shadows need to be accurate in order for him to summon them, but you know he’s just secretly into self care.

he lets you paint his fingernails black, admiring the way your tongue sticks out in concentration as you try to not get any nail polish on his skin.

when he holds your hand, he’s always rubbing patterns into your skin. it’s like he can’t physically touch you without savoring you as much as he can! his hands are everywhere—your hips, your arm, tucked on your lower belly for some odd, perhaps primal reason.

he likes to move you out of the way (you’re usually unaware of your surroundings when he’s with you because he’s just so safe to be around!) by gently pulling you to his chest with his smooth fingertips, his hand being large enough to nearly cover your entire side.

when you cry, he brushes underneath your eyes with his thumb, wiping off your salty tears before kissing you. his hands are large enough to cup your face and cover it at the same time, which he likes to do when you’re acting a little difficult.

megumi likes to wrap his hands around your neck, not ever squeezing enough to cut any airflow—he just likes the way his fingers look when they’re gripping your smooth skin. he likes trailing his fingertips over each of the possessive bruises that he tends to leave on your sensitive skin. it’s like a reminder to him (and you) that you’re his.

you love the way his hands look when they’re digging into your skin, squeezing your plush thighs as he greedily laps up your release. your cunt spasms at the sight of his fingers wrapped tightly around your thighs. “n-no more! ‘s too much, gumi! can’t—!” he only caresses your skin and forces your legs apart with those pretty hands of his, holding your soft thighs apart. your skin dips around his fingers and the view is so pretty that you have to squeeze your eyes shut so that you don’t release all over his face again.

your favorite sight—and his too—is when his long digits are pumping in and out of your cunt. you’re breathless and mewling his name, watching as his fingers break you down into mush. “cum for me, baby, i know you can do it. such a greedy girl sucking my fingers right in, hm?” sometimes he wishes he could see the way his fingers curl inside your body, pressing up against the spots he knows has you shuddering for him. after you finish from his fingers alone, he loves to slowly pull his them out, admiring the glistening slick coating them. “see this, baby? just from my fingers, you sensitive little thing. do you like my hands that much?”

you love megumi’s hands. that’s one thing about him that’s strictly him—you wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

#luv4fushi r18 #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #megumi x you

[retrievablememories]

cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

--

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

--

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

--

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

--

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

--

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

--

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh.  while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

@ihatemen55 @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @yunhofingers @heybabesposts @twilight-loveer @whipwhoops @mrsminho @junecat18 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @okayiamkassandra @witchbitxhxx @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @thaiika @goldentea10 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @katie-tibo @ohsweetmimosa @dream-cvtcher @hoseokteardrop @lpgirl2324 @vanillacupcakefrosting @gukiemochi @jkslaugh97 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeonjklibs @bangtans-momma @screamertannie @kenzietaetae @han-nah-banana @00frenchfries00 @taiwan0618 @laurynne5 @monvante @ynisthatyou @thiccthighs19 @jeonwiixard

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

[shuadotcom]

Room with a View (M)

🩸Pairing: Vampire!Kim Mingyu x Human fem!Reader x Vampire!Jeon Jungkook

🩸Summary: “Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.”

🩸Genres & AUs: Smut, supernatural au, vampire au, pwp

🩸Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

🩸Words: 6.3k

🩸Warnings: Mention of alcohol, profanity, mentions of blood, shameless Mean Girls references

🩸Smut warnings: Threesome, vampire kink ig, oral (f & m receiving), semi-public sex, window sex, fingering, anal fingering (f receiving), biting, marking, dirty talk, pet names (baby, little mouse), unprotected sex (vampires can’t impregnate humans in this world bc i said so!) rough sex, double penetration, using cum as lube

🩸Note: For @kpopsblackcreatorsociety 's Blood & Bane event! Vampire Prompt: “Did you just fucking bite me?!”

This AMAZING banner is by my bby @playmetheclassics / @classicscreations and beta’d by my other bby @the-boy-meets-evil! A million smooches for you both!! 😙❤️ Oh and tagging the lovely @gyuwoncheol ❤️

“I’m a mouse, duh!” You’ve had to clarify that at least ten times tonight, much to your displeasure. You assumed that the black nightie, silver calf-high boots, and mouse ears would make your costume obvious, but so far, it’s seemed that everyone you’ve run into at this party either has never seen Mean Girls or doesn’t remember it. It’s a tragedy, truly.

It doesn’t help that most of your time at this party has been spent with just you by yourself. When only one of the four parts of a group costume is together, the whole idea doesn’t make the same impact. But, Jihyo and Jeongyeon, the Regina George and Grethen Wieners of your quartet in that order, disappeared together fifteen minutes after arriving. They’re likely hooking up in a room somewhere, still trying to hide from you and Sana that they’re dating. That’s added to the fact that Sana, the Cady Heron of the group, is spending time with the busy boyfriend she hasn’t seen in weeks. They had offered to let you hang out with them, but the last thing you wanted to be was a third-wheel.

That leaves just you, lingering by the back door with the same wine cooler you’ve been nursing for the last hour. 

You don’t know many people here except for the host, Dongmin, and a few of your co-workers you’ve recognized, but aren’t close with. He’s the sweet, wealthy vice president at the new company you work at who always goes out of his way to greet you when he sees you in the office.

You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times at the few company events you’ve been to and during shared elevator rides, so you were surprised when he invited you to his annual Halloween party, but you wouldn’t dream of turning him down. You also knew he had a good amount of money, what with the company doing so well, but you had no idea he was this well-off. 

His house has two floors and all of the rooms are spacious, bustling with people in Halloween costumes, dancing, talking, and knocking back drinks. Once you look past all of the partygoers, the view from the backdoor looks out at the city, all the lights in the distance looking magical from where the house sits on a hill in the nice, suburban part of town.

The view is honestly the most interesting part about tonight. You typically love Halloween, but this is the first party you’ve been to in a few years, plus you’re not friends with anyone else other than the three girls you came with. So far, this Halloween has been extremely uneventful.

“Karen Smith from Mean Girls, right? You’re a mouse?” A male voice you don’t recognize catches you off guard as you spin to see who it is.

To say you’re breathless at the sheer presence of the two men you come face-to-face with would be an understatement. They’re both tall and buff-looking - buff in the way that has your stomach doing flips. They’re clad in all denim outfits, their white shirts hugging each muscle underneath the cotton. Cowboy hats and boots complete their costumes, so you can easily deduce what they’re supposed to be. The man who you assume is the one who speaks is closest to you, smiling at you, pretty lips decorated with double lip rings.

They’re beautiful in the most stunning of ways that makes them not even seem real.

When you finally get a grip on yourself, you clear your throat, plastering on a smile. “Finally, someone at this party with taste! You’d be surprised how many people here have never seen Mean Girls.”

“A lot of people at this party aren’t much fun so that makes sense,” The other man speaks, rolling his eyes before fixing you with a look that appears as what you can only describe as hungry. “Speaking of, we haven’t seen you at one of Dongmin’s parties before.”

“Oh, yeah this is my friends and my first time here. Dongmin and I have worked at the same company for a few months. He invited me and as many people as I wanted to bring.”

“Remind us to thank Dongmin for that when we see him next,” Liprings smiles at you again, eyes sweeping over you from head to toe and you can feel the hairs on your arm stand on end under his appraisal. “I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“And I’m Mingyu,” Both men reach for your hands, each of them placing a kiss on them. The gesture is cheesy, but it still makes your skin heat up, cheeks burning as they gently let your hands go.

“I-I’m Y/n.” Forcing out a nervous laugh, you glance at their hat and boots and attempt to pivot the conversation. It’s not as though you didn’t want the attention they’re so clearly giving you, but you’ve never had men that looked this good so blatantly ogling you. Especially not two at the same time. You’re one more flirtatious look away from giggling like a schoolgirl in front of them.

“You know, just putting on cowboy boots and hats doesn’t make you cowboys.”

“And just wearing a headband doesn’t make you a mouse.” Jungkook fires back, grinning at you. Touché.

“You said you and your friends - where are they?” Mingyu asks, eyes sweeping the room. 

“They’re all with their significant others.” You shrug, not trying to sound bitter. You’re happy for your friends, truly you are - you’re just reminded of how alone you are right now.

“Aw, well we’ll keep you company, little mouse,” Mingyu winks at you and the way you feel your thighs clench together at his words is utterly embarrassing. You’re almost mortified with yourself when you watch as both he and Jungkook glance down at your exposed thighs, noticing the gesture. That mortification is quickly washed away when Jungkook bites his lip and Mingyu’s smile grows. 

All of a sudden, you’re acutely aware that it’s just you and two of the most handsome men you’ve ever been around. Face to face. There are plenty of people buzzing around you, but none of them are paying your trio any mind. Your heart races at this thought, glancing back out the window at the view into the backyard again.

“Everything okay, Y/n?” Jungkook’s voice is closer than you expect as he sidles up to your left, Mingyu moving to stand to your right.

“Yeah, of course, why do you ask?”

“You just seem nervous is all.”

“Nervous? I’m not nervous. I’m just…distracted. The, uh, the view of the city! It’s just so pretty. I’ve been admiring it all night.”

“Hmm. This is a really nice view,” Jungkook agrees.

“I know where you can see an even better view,” Mingyu adds, drawing both your and Jungkook’s attention to him.

“You do?”

“Yeah. We’re super close to Dongmin and we’ve been here a million times. He has a room upstairs that faces out to the backyard, but it’s a much better view than this. Wanna go check it out?”

You’d have to be an idiot not to guess where this was going and what else he intended with his words. He waits patiently, smiling at you and letting you think it over. A glance over your shoulder at Jungkook shows that he’s also waiting, eyes shifting to gaze outside while you think. Two hot guys basically tell you that they want to take you upstairs and hook up with you. It’s not the exact type of excitement you were looking for on Halloween, but it’s excitement nonetheless. 

“Sure, let’s go. I’ll text my friends.”

“Perfect.” They wait for you to send a quick text to the group chat, letting the girls know who you’re going upstairs with and you see someone sends back a winky face emoji before you slip your phone in the clutch on your wrist. 

Mingyu has you follow him out of the kitchen and through the crowd to the stairs with Jungkook behind you, his hand hovering over your lower back as he follows. When you reach the top of the stairs, Mingyu leads you to the left, down a hallway, and into a room at the end of the hall.

As soon as you step in, you see the wrap-around windows spanning the length of the wall in front of you. The curtains are all drawn and the expanse of the starry night is laid out so clearly. This room is in the corner of the house, but still faces the back, so you can see into the backyard and well across to the city skyline.

Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.

As if reading your mind the man in question chuckles, gesturing to the view. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah you were,” you wave at him, feeling flirty and brave enough to throw him a wink as you beeline straight for the window. The glass is clean enough that you can just make out your reflection. 

“Why are you so attached to looking outside?” Jungkook questions from your left. When you turn to find him, he’s lounging in a plush chair that sits near the foot of the luxurious bed.

“I can just appreciate a good view is all.”

“So can I,” Jungkook’s voice is so confident when he says it. He’s likely used that same line a million times before and it’s worked.

You refuse to admit it works on you too. 

“Smooth,” you still can’t help but roll your eyes. “This view is honestly just the most interesting thing I’ve looked at all night.” 

A big, firm, body presses into your back, your breath catching in surprise. You hadn’t even heard Mingyu approach.

“Oh yeah? That’s the most interesting thing you’ve seen all night?” His voice is low as he speaks against your ear, this close to making your knees weak.

“Mmhmm. Haven’t really been given much else to look at,” you hope neither of them can hear how your voice trembles as Mingyu runs his hands down your arms, pressing his body against you more. He has you so close to the glass you need to raise your hands to stop yourself from becoming flush against it. 

“Is that so?” Mingyu’s hands are soft as he brushes the edge of your lingerie, his fingertips grazing your bare thighs that the hem hangs above. His hands are colder than you thought they’d be, but the chill is welcome on your blazing skin.

“I guess I need something more interesting to look at.” Your eyes shift up in an attempt to meet his in the reflection of the glass but…all you see is yourself and nothing else? “Mingy-oh!,” your last word is clipped when Mingyu steps back and takes hold of your hips to pull you a little ways away from the window. Immediately after, he pushes you forward to bend at the waist. Your hands press against the glass again, this time to keep you from toppling forward onto your face.

“Be careful, baby.”

“Wh - sh-shit!” Your question dies on your lips when you feel Mingyu spread your plush thighs and presses his face against your exposed pussy, his tongue prodding at the fabric of your panties to push both into your wet hole.

“You can look at your reflection while I eat you out. I’m sure the face you make when you cum all over my tongue will be interesting enough.”

“Oh, or how about all those partygoers outside in the backyard? Isn’t it just so interesting how if anyone looked up and stared long enough, they’d see you bent over with your tits falling out?” Jungkook’s tone is so aggravatingly teasing, but he’s right. 

There are quite a few people stationed and talking around the yard. If someone truly wanted to, it would be pretty easy to see what’s going on in the room. The thought sends fear and another wave of arousal throughout you. 

“Mm, I think she likes that thought, JK. She got so much wetter.” 

“So dirty, little mouse.” 

“I - fuck!” It’s frustrating how Mingyu keeps touching you in all the right ways, his movements constantly scrambling your brain and derailing your train of thought.

His fingers push your panties to the side and his mouth immediately latches onto your clit, sucking a few times before his tongue eases into your entrance, the intrusion pushing out an unabashed moan from your chest.

Your fingers scramble to grip the glass, only to slide with a squeak as Mingyu laps at you as far as his tongue can reach. Your hips begin rolling against his face as he works at you, the need to cum dangling dangerously close. 

There have been plenty of other times you’ve let someone eat you out, but nothing can compare to the way this beautiful stranger plunges his tongue into your dripping hole, the obscene slurping sounds he makes are the only sound ringing in your ears other than your desperate whines.

“God, you look so good like this, little mouse. Your legs are trembling.” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the haze clouding your brain. “Can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

“What are you w-waiting for, then?” You attempt to sound confident and sexy, but your words are more whiny than anything. Even so, you hear Jungkook chuckle before the sound of him getting out of the chair and making his way over you catches your attention. He’s taken his denim jacket off at some point and you practically drool at the sight of his fitting white t-shirt and tattoo-decorated arm on display. 

He raises one of his hands, trailing it over your back and down to your ass. Mingyu already pushed your nightie up enough to get access to you, but Jungkook bunches it up all the way, the delicate fabric resting above your ass to give him access. He brings his hand down once, landing a spank on one of your cheeks.

Electricity surges through your body at the sting and you jump. Your hips respond by pushing back, obviously begging both men for more.

From behind you, Mingyu grunts, and, as if answering your wordless request, you feel his finger ease into your entrance, replacing his tongue. He’s still cold and you let out a yelp at the temperature, but you easily melt into him as his digit plunges into your heat.

Jungkook is still standing next to you, chuckling at the way you writhe, even bending over a little more.

“Asking to be spanked again, baby?” He hums, cold hand caressing your ass. 

“Yes, please!” Your knees are so, so close to giving out as you can feel your orgasm creeping up closer and closer. Mingyu’s finger keeps working at you and he soon adds a second. Heart hammering against your chest, you rest your forehead against the cold glass, nearly ready to collapse at the pleasure.

“Alright, well now you gotta share, Gyu,” Jungkook’s voice reminds his friend before he grabs at you to stand you upright. 

Mingyu, still on the floor, makes a displeased sound, frowning up at his friend.

“Yeah, yeah. You can still eat her out, but I want her mouth. Is that alright with you, little mouse?”

“Hell yes, it is,” you breathe out, still trying to right yourself after Mingyu’s assault on your pussy.

Jungkook smiles at you, and it takes your breath away in another way. How the fuck were you so lucky to end up here like this with men who looked this good?

With his hand holding yours, he leads you to the bed, Mingyu trailing behind as his fingers graze any part of your skin he can reach. Once you reach the bed, both men work together in lifting your nightie over your head and slowly peeling away your bra and panties, leaving kisses over your newly exposed skin. 

The three of you are a flurry of hands as you tug on the hem of Jungkook’s shirt with one hand while reaching behind your back to find the button on Mingyu’s jeans. 

When you’re finally naked, (save for your mouse ears which both men beg you to leave on), Mingyu spins you around and leans down to pull you into a kiss. His lips are impossibly soft as you melt into him, his tongue poking out to brush against your bottom lip a few times. You open for him immediately, allowing the man to wrap his tongue around yours before sucking the muscle into his mouth. 

Tiny mewls slip out of you, getting swallowed by Mingyu as he kisses you hard enough to bruise you, letting you taste yourself on him. Jungkook’s hands skate over your hips, your stomach, and up to your breasts. He rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging on the buds as his teeth graze your shoulders and neck. Mingyu continues to muffle every sound you make, and one hand, the one not currently cradling the back of your head, snakes down, down, down until he dips a finger between your thighs. He’s met with your wetness, already coating the tops of your inner thighs. 

Your eyelids flutter as both sets of hands hold you, your arousal building with every tweak and every poke.

A different kind of poke on your neck makes you yelp though, flinching your head back from Mingyu to try and get a look at Jungkook.

“Did you just fucking bite me?!”

The tattooed man chuckles and cocks his head at you, amused at your reaction.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you’re into that?”

“I am, I was just surprised. Your teeth are sharp.” You don’t mind marking and being bitten, but it’s never been almost painful when past partners have done it. 

Although truth be told, you didn’t mind one bit that it hurt.

He pouts at you, apologizing but still asking if you’re sure you’re okay with it. You promise you are and that’s all Jungkook needs to spin you around and crash his lips into yours. The chill of his lip rings is as cold as his lips, but just like every other chilled part of both him and Mingyu, you don’t mind at all.

Jungkook’s kisses are messier than Mingyu’s, his tongue immediately diving into your mouth to lap at every part of you. He alternates between making out with you as if his life depended on it and nibbling at your bottom lip, his teeth catching on the swollen skin now and again. It’s Mingyu’s turn to lavish your shoulders and neck with attention as he too sucks and nips at your skin, his teeth pricking your hot skin as he goes.

He leaves you panting when he finally lets you up for air and you can practically feel your arousal dripping down your thighs from the dual sensations.

“Your lips are fucking amazing,” Jungkook grumbles, dark eyes fixing you with a look that has you swooning. “I wanna feel them on my dick now,” 

You nod eagerly, likely resembling a bobblehead, and he and Mingyu both laugh at your eagerness. They help you get comfortable on the bed, having you kneel across it on all fours. Jungkook takes his position in front of you, his cock hard and already leaking precum. Mingyu shuffles on the bed behind you, running his hands over your ass, and you instinctively arch for him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he hums, swiping his finger through your wetness and you hear him suck it into his mouth behind you. “And you taste even better.”

“Hey, you need to share, remember? I wanna taste,” Jungkook pouts at Mingyu over your shoulder and you feel Mingyu’s hand between your thighs again, gathering more of you, and this time, he reaches forward and offers his finger to Jungkook. The man in front of you cranes his neck forward to suck his friend's finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks for a moment before letting go with a ‘pop.’ 

Jungkook flashes a sly smile, licking his lips as he looks down at you. “Gyu is right. You’re absolutely delectable, little mouse. I’ll have to taste it straight from the source some other time.” 

The gears in your brain work overtime, registering that he’s alluded to there being a next time for the three of you. 

Mingyu’s tongue is diving into your cunt again which derails any other train of thought. Your mouth hangs open, a moan tumbling out in response. Jungkook uses that opportunity to tap the head of his cock against your bottom lip.

“This okay, baby?” He asks. When you let out an affirmative noise, he eases it into your mouth and you eagerly wrap your lips around it.

Jungkook’s cock isn’t extraordinarily long, but it’s thick, the girth stretching out the corners of your mouth the more he pushes in. When you almost get all of him in, he takes a moment, giving you time. When he feels you relax your jaw and sees you look up at him through your lashes, he starts to move his hips, helping you bob your head over his dick. 

His fingers weave into your hair, making sure not to disturb your mouse ears, gripping the strands at the base as he slowly rolls his hips into your face. You close your eyes, both to concentrate on taking him and to relish in the frantic way that Mingyu laps at your folds. He grunts into you with each swipe of his tongue and you can feel each deep vibration that slips out. 

You can feel your earlier orgasm creeping up again with each flick of Mingyu’s tongue. When he reaches under you to run his finger over your clit, the heat in the pit of your stomach gets hotter, bubbling up and spreading through your veins.

Unable to help yourself, you push your hips back into his face chasing your high. Jungkook’s cock is heavy and your tongue, his pace quickening too. His fingers tug at your hair harder than when he started. Each time he surges forward, the tip of his dick just barely hits the back of your throat, but it’s still enough to have you choking.

Drool starts to pool in the corners of your mouth as you cry out around his length, finally toppling over the edge as you cum. Your words are garbled and you have to anchor yourself to not fall fast forward into Jungkook’s crotch.

“Shit, yes baby like that. Cum all over Gyu’s face and take my cock. So good,” Jungkook’s words sound far away. Your brain is foggy, but you still clench around Mingyu’s enthusiastic tongue as he cleans you up.

When Mingyu finally pulls back you’re still whimpering around Jungkook and he’s switched to shallow thrusts, his cock dragging almost lazily against your tongue.

“Fuck, little mouse. I think I might be addicted to your delicious little cunt now.” Mingyu punctuated his words with a light smack to your still throbbing pussy, making you jolt. 

“Her mouth is a fucking dream too. She looks so pretty with it full. We’re so lucky to have found you, baby.”

“So lucky,” Mingyu agrees. You attempt to nod, trying your best to agree with them because you also feel incredibly lucky tonight. You’d gone from lamenting about being a third wheel in the awkward, almost lonely ways, to being the third wheel in a threesome with two beautiful men. Lucky indeed.

“Gonna let us get even luckier, baby?” Jungkook’s finger settles under your chin, tilting your head up just a bit to look down at you. “Gonna let us fuck you?”

This time you pull away, letting his cock fall out and giving you a chance to rest your jaw.

“God yes. I need more,” your voice is a little scratchy but still needy.

“Good girl. Who do you want first?” Mingyu rasps in your ear, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

“Both of you.” 

“Oh? You hear that, Gyu? She wants us both.”

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn dirty, baby. Sure you can take us both?” Mingyu presses his length against your asscheeks, letting you feel just how big he is.

“I can do it. Just prep me real good?” Casting a look over your shoulder, you meet Mingyu’s eyes, batting your lashes at him, wearing your best pleading face.

His expression darkens, smirking at you as his eyes sweep over your back, fixing on your ass before meeting your eyes again. “I’ll take care of you, little mouse, don’t worry.”

Mingyu peppers your cheeks with kisses while his finger swipes through your wetness again. He slowly spreads your cheeks, and a glob of spit hits your puckered hole followed by the tip of his finger prodding you. 

You wince when he slips in, moving oh so slowly until he’s one knuckle deep. Jungkook’s hand still under your chin turns your head to face forward and redirects your attention back to him. 

“Lemme distract you,” he taps the tip of his dick against your lips and you open immediately, almost greedy to take him in again. It’s easy for him to set a pace; each push of his hips forward pushes you back against Mingyu’s finger. They easily find a rhythm and Jungkook tugs on your hair, moaning loudly above you. 

Listening to his melodic voice making these breathy exhales for you - because of you - serves to make you wet all over again and determined to make him cum. He’s still guiding your head, but you curve your tongue, letting it wrap under his cock, gliding along a thick vein on the underside. 

“Fuck, Y/n. Keep doing that,”

So you do, hollowing your cheeks for good measure to make the inside of your mouth feel tighter around him. You’re moaning around his length as Mingyu slips a second finger into you, scissoring his fingers as he gets both digits in you.

“Look at you, little mouse. Taking my fingers and Jungkookie’s cock so well. I just know you’ll take both of us so good when we fill you up,” Mingyu’s words make you clench around nothing, but he feels the way your body tenses up and he chuckles at you. He lands a sharp smack on your ass, pushing a muffled shriek out of you. 

You get lost in the slide of Jungkook’s dick down your throat and the stretch of Mingyu’s fingers in you. It isn’t very long until you’re fucking back against his fingers. Jungkook’s grunts are getting more high-pitched and frantic, curses falling from his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck. I’m - fuck!” Jungkook pulls his cock from your mouth, leaning back and gliding his hand over his length at light speed. 

When he cums he makes sure he’s angled towards him, so the sticky liquid spurts onto his chest and hand. You watch in awe as he tugs at himself a few times. His eyes are closed as he swipes his fingers through the mess on his skin and rubs it over his still-hard dick, sighing as squelching echoes in your ears.

“You doing okay, little mouse?” Mingyu’s voice cuts through to you and you finally manage to nod.

“Good. Come’re,” Mingyu’s fingers slip out of you and his hands wrap around your ankles and slide you down the bed, flipping you onto your back in one swift motion. “Legs and arms, wrap them around me.” He helps you loop your arms around his neck and you do your best to lock your legs around his waist. 

You expect to stay splayed out on your back, but he has other ideas as he picks you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing and you’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the hottest things that’s happened tonight.

Mingyu’s mouth is on yours again as his hands grip your ass, keeping you up and close to his body. He moves you both across the room, his back leaning against one of the large windows. One of your hands grips his shoulder while the other cards through his dark locks.

A second set of hands ghosts over your shoulders and back followed by Jungkook’s lips, his teeth grazing your skin between kisses. 

“Gonna let us fuck you at the same time, little mouse?” Jungkook speaks next to your ear, biting your lobe.

“I would if you’d hurry up,” you mumble, now laying your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder as Mingyu licks up the column of your throat, biting your collarbone hard enough to make you yelp. 

“So impatient, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “But I guess we should give her what she wants, JK.”

“Guess so, Gyu,” 

Mingyu leaves a final kiss on the mark he’s left on your collarbone and adjusts you in his hold. He lifts you a little, quite effortlessly at that, and begins sliding you down in his length. Mingyu’s cock is long - long and thick enough that you feel full before he’s even halfway in, but you take it, gnawing at your lip as he enters you inch by inch.

Once he’s completely sheathed inside of you, you two lock eyes, the dark glint unmistakable. He gives a few shallow thrusts, already making you pant in his grasp.

“My turn, baby,” Jungkook says, reminding you that you’re only halfway done.

You crane your neck to the side to look down, and you watch Jungkook stroke himself a few times, using his cum to get himself as slick as possible for you, spitting into his hand for extra help. Mingyu tips you forward, your head resting on his shoulder as he spreads your cheeks for Jungkook. 

You ignore the fact that when you look at your reflection in the window, yours is the only one you see, clinging naked around seemingly nothing.

The nudge of Jungkook’s thick cockhead against your rim makes you gasp. He slides in much slower than Mingyu, letting your walls accommodate him at a much gentler pace. When he finally bottoms out, your head is spinning at the sensation of being packed to the absolute brim. Neither men say anything as you get used to them, using the opportunity to litter any skin they can reach with their mouths with bites, sucking more marks into you. 

When you’re finally ready, you wriggle in Mingyu’s hold, attempting to pivot your hip to get them to move.

“Mm, you ready, baby?” Mingyu whispers, running his tongue along your jaw.

“Yes, please. Fuck me,” 

“Since you asked so nicely…” Jungkook laughs, his hands now holding onto your ass while Mingyu wraps his arms around your waist.

Both men take a millisecond to adjust and that’s truly all they need before they both thrust into you, drawing a long, gasp of breath out of you. Mingyu snaps his hips forward, using the window behind him as momentum to fuck into you. It pushes you back down into Jungkook who’s glued to your back. 

They fuck you roughly, see-sawing you back and forth on their cocks, their grips on your flesh never loosening. You cry out each time, babbling out what sounds to you like their names surrounded by nonsense.

Mingyu’s gaze stays locked on your face, occasionally trailing over the rest of you, practically growling with each powerful thrust. 

“Look at you. Taking two cocks so well. You’re so good for us, little mouse.” Each word is punctuated with even more power behind his movements, drawing a whimper out of you each time.

“So good. Letting me into this tight little ass. Fuck you’re squeezing me so much, baby.” Jungkook’s comments are also followed by thrusts that take your breath away, his balls slapping against the back of your thighs each time.

You feel a million miles away from your body as these beautiful men with their big dicks stuff you full. You can feel every vein and every ridge battering and rubbing against your spongy walls and you clench with each thrust in, your second orgasm rushing to the forefront.

At some point, you think you black out, but that could just be the pleasure. The only thing you see is Mingyu smiling salaciously at you, sharp teeth on display, and half-lidded eyes drinking you in. The only thing you hear is Jungkook growling in your ear, praising how good you are for them and how fucking amazing you are. 

The only thing you feel - well you feel everything. The way they stretch you out, the way their fingers and blunt nails press bruises and half-moon marks into your skin. You feel the scrape of their teeth when they bite at you and it’d be a lie to say you didn’t want them to bite you a little harder.

“Look at our little mouse, JK. She’s so pretty and so fucked out.” Mingyu moves a hand up to grip your chin and tilts your head back to rest on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Shit, look at you, baby. So cockdrunk for us. You gonna cum?” You think you say words, but maybe it’s more of affirmative sounding noises.

Somehow, someone’s hand - you’re not sure who - reaches between your legs to rub your clit. You’re so fucking full and so fucking wet that it only takes a few rubs at your bundle of nerves to have you cumming with a scream that sounds much too loud to your ears.

Every inch of you is red hot and in flames as your throat dries up and your eyelids sag and that’s when you feel it: the sharp, piercing feeling of being bitten. Hard. One on your shoulder from behind and one on the opposite side of your neck. Your eyes fly open and all you see is Mingyu's dark head of hair. Somewhere in the room, along with the wet, slapping, sounds of them drilling into you, you hear slurping. The slurping of your blood in the mouths of these men that you now know for sure are not just men.

They’re drinking your fucking blood.

And that realization alone has you falling apart again, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, body twitching in their holds.

“Fuck - fuck! Gonna stuff you so fucking full, baby!” Mingyu removes his mouth from your neck, shooting his load into you first, the sensation making you groan out, albeit weakly. 

Jungkook tumbles over the edge right after him, his sticky seed coating your insides, dripping out, and sliding down your cheeks.

You’re still reeling from what is likely the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever experienced, body sagging, feeling completely boneless.

“Did you cum again after we drank from you?” Jungkook mumbles as they slide out of you, still keeping you in their arms.

“Mmhmm,” is all you can manage, eyelids fluttering, fighting to stay open.

“Fuck. You really are perfect, baby. We gotta keep her, Gyu.” 

Mingyu chuckles, finally setting you on the bed, and letting you flop onto the comforter. 

“Yeah, I think we might have to. Would you like that, little mouse? Wanna be ours?” 

“Mmhmm…” You think you have something else to say, but instead, you finally lose the battle to exhaustion, your eyes sliding closed and sleep taking hold of you.

“Y/n? Hey, Y/n?” 

The sound of your name jerks you awake, and your eyes shoot open to take in your surroundings. 

Sana’s face is peering down at you when you finally focus, concern etched into her features.

“Huh?”

“You’re up! We were getting a little worried, you’ve been sleeping for a while. Feeling okay?”

You sit up slowly, your head feeling groggy as you take in your surroundings. You’re on your couch in your apartment. You can see Jihyo in the kitchen staring at you looking concerned too. In the distance a toilet flushes and you assume it’s Jeongyeon.

“I’m fine,” you finally say. “Why are we at my apartment?”

“Well, your boyfriends texted us that we should take you home because you were so exhausted you passed out. They carried you out to the car and everything. Very gentlemanly.”

“By the looks of those marks, I think they treated you the opposite of gentlemanly in the bedroom?” Jeongyeon eyes your neck as she enters the room wiggling her eyebrows.

When you glance down, you see what she means. Your chest and what you see of your shoulders are covered in bruises. When you touch your neck you feel two small punctures in the skin and you flush from head to toe. You had almost wondered if you dreamt about the whole encounter with Mingyu and Jungkook, but you hadn’t.

“Oh, yeah. They definitely weren’t gentle,” you can’t but help giggle at the memory of the night you’ve had. The ache between your legs and your cheeks is also a stark reminder.

Your friends don’t say anything about where either Mingyu or Jungkook went when they left you in their care, but they wouldn’t just disappear, right? They said they wanted to keep you which means something, you’d like to think.

Lucky for you, it’s not something you have to ponder for long. As you’re settling into bed for the night, your phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number. 

When you go to your messages you see a group chat with you and two other people. Opening it rewards you with an image - two familiar-looking mouths smiling widely. You can only see from their noses down to their chins, but both grins show off very pointy canines, one mouth decorated with two lip rings. 

You’re trying to rack your brain as to what to respond with - it’s not like you could have anticipated that being bitten by actual fucking vampires would be so damn hot.

A text from the other number comes in a minute after the picture.

Good night, little mouse. Let us know when and where we can see you again. 😉

You start to type, then erase the message three times, unsure of how desperate you want to sound. 

Then you decide, fuck it. It’s obvious they want you just as much as you want them, so who cares if you sound desperate? 

So, you keep it short and sweet.

Whenever and wherever you want. Duh.

Net tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf

I’ve wanted to write a Mingyu/Jungkook threesome since they did that live together that one time. And then the 3D challenge happened and my brain said NOWNOWNOW so here we are!

#kbcshallo2023 #svthub #kflixnet #wkcnet #kwritersworldnet #kbookshelf #k-labels #kim mingyu #jeon jungkook #mingyu smut #jungkook smut #mingyu fic #jungkook fic #mingyu x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #thebtswritersclub #kvanity #ksmutsociety #52hertz #clubzerooclock

[moonit3]

THE NEW HIM

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, stalking, obsession, axel being a creepy, gn! reader, purposefully open end, reader falls in love easily.

➥ yandere! rent-a-boyfriend x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: after losing you, axel sees no other option than changing himself to regain your heart.

➥ a/n: this took more time than I expected （╹◡╹） there was many and many ideas that i rewrite til i feel like it that fit axel’s character as he is desperate trying to get reader to fall in love with him again. but i enjoy writing this one, like a lot.

➥ tagging @strangespinapple as they asked to be tagged when this get released.

you were ignoring him since that tragic day at work, pretending he never existed and blocking all numbers that called you every hour. you were driving him crazy, axel can’t stop thinking about how you were supposed to be his forever if he hadn’t done that when you opened your heart. he had to change your vision of him.

the red haired began following you, writing down your routine to a notebook he brought it just for that and he had stopped leaving gifts at your door, as much he wants to show his love for you, he had to stop to make his plan work.

your entire routine, 24/7, noted on the papers he always carries around the city. photos of you that are now all over his walls and the wallpaper of his phone. and the fact he can’t stop thinking about you during his dates, so he asks for a transference to the account depart of the app, there he keep myself with your matches at the apps, not letting you go out with anyone.

“we will be together, [name].” that what he keeps thinking to himself during his work hours as he purposefully unmatched you with the many guys that were trying to steal you away from him. don’t you see? you are destined to be with him forever, he just has to show that he have changed!

he dyed his hair to a different color, change his entire style to be the completely opposite of his original, something more dark and black vests. and he forces to make his voice deeper, to match those guys that everyone dreams to be with. axel doesn’t resemble his old self anymore, but that doesn’t matter as long you will love him soon.

in meanwhile, you didn’t get any match up in the app. is something wrong with it? you have spend days and days without a single match, so it’s easy to say that you are become desperate to go out on a date to forget about the whole fiasco with axel. luckily, after a long day of working, a notification pops up from the app you have finally matched with someone else.

the guy in question has a different style from most rent-a-boyfriend dudes. his dark and mess hair, clothes that were homemade to match his unique style and makeup, what a cutie! the two began chatting and you immediately noticed how much he has in common with you, isn’t that amazing? you feel so special to have find someone like him, yet there is one detail that caught your attention, his name.

it’s a little weird this guy share the same name from the one thay destroyed your heart just a few weeks ago, the very same one that made you believe that you are incapable of being loved, but stop think about that! this axel is way better from the old one, you know this and he is making you feel better after gifting you those beautiful flowers in the first date.

“someone as share the same beauty of a divinity should receive flowers.” he knows how to make your heart beat harder. his hands on yours as axel takes you to a carnival to see your smiles, to feel your touch on his skin and to hear your laughs during the date. the entire day feel so great be around you.

axel got what he wanted. having you in his arms, watching the fireworks as the day finally end after spending hours at the carnival by your side. your sleeping face on his shoulder as he scrolls on his phone, seeing the many photos he took of you through the date and the plans for the next one. he can’t wait to take your to the beach to play volleyball!

everything is going smooth, axel has you and he won’t let you go away from him so easily this time. he already made a mistake back then, now he will be more aware to take care of you and promise to one day be the one to gift you the greatest ring once the day arrives.

@moonit3 writings

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere male x reader #yandere writing #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #tw yandere #yandere headcanon #yandere held #my oc axel #gender neutral y/n #yandere original character #gender neutral reader #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

[cozage]

Please, please, PLEASE MAKE A FOLLOW-UP ON LAW ON THE DARE CHALLENGE

😭😭😭😭😭

A/N: Did someone order Law x reader with an extra slow burn??? Oh my sweet sweet anon I love you and everyone else who requested this. This was such a pleasure to write. I truly hope I did it justice and made up for not having a section for him earlier. For those who are new here, this is part two for an earlier headcanon list I did. Check that out first for more context.

Characters: GN! reader x Law

Cw: NSFW. MINORS - DNI. I promise I’ll have so much other content for you to consume, please respect me and my work and keep scrolling. If I catch a minor on my NSFW posts, I will block you (and then you don't get to see any of my writing! So just skip this one.)

Total word count: 4.2k

tag list: @error404-tryagain @jadedrrose @patchofblue @nikos-a-clown @evilunicorns4minions @reader101 @gaynerdnotkid @augustanna @uchihabbynic

Push and Pull

“Y/N-ya, what the hell was that?” You could hear the frustration in his voice follow after you as you dashed out of the room and retreated down the hallway. The game was finally over. The moment Shachi released you from your place on Law’s lap you had made a beeline for your room. 

“N-Nothing!” You keep moving, feeling heat rise to your face at the thought of your earlier flirtation attempt. Shachi may have been the one to force you to do it, but it would have been a lot better if you hadn’t fumbled it so badly. 

Law quickly caught up to you and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back from your escape. He spins you around to face him, and he towers over you. His face was contorted with such anger that you instinctively shrank away from him.

“Did Shachi put you up to that?” His face had softened some and you could tell he was attempting to control his voice, but his anger was apparent. You hesitated, which was enough of an answer for him. You could feel his grip tighten on your wrist, and you resist the urge not to squirm away from him again. You want to be far away from him and his rage, which now appeared to be centered on your crew mates. You could hear their laughs echoing from the common room, and Law glared in their direction.  

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” he says, still facing the common area. You start to respond, wanting to let Law know that it wasn’t a big deal, but he’s already dropped your wrist and is striding back to the common room. A dark aura is rolling off him as he heads towards the crew, and you turn on your heels and bolt to your room, thankful for an escape.

--

You make yourself scarce over the next few days, and the captain seems to be doing the same. You stay locked in your room, and he stays locked in his office. The only time you interact with Law is over meals, and you catch yourself glancing over at him several times throughout those moments. A few times you glance over to catch his golden eyes staring back at you, and you both quickly look away, praying nobody else caught you all. 

You and your captain have been doing this strange dance of avoiding each other and catching stolen looks for three days before the crew decided to step in. 

--

At lunch on the third day, Ikkaku hunts you down to pull you into your room. “You should wear something super nice tonight!” She’s already sifting through the clothes in your drawer.

“What? Why?” You start picking up the clothes that Ikakku has tossed on the floor, but she’s oblivious to your efforts, which irritates you. “Do you mind not making such a mess?”

She ignores your request, still shifting through your belongings and mumbling to herself. “Not a lot to work with here but I’m sure we can find something.”

“Hey-stop that! Ikakku, what is this all about anyway?” You’re throwing your clothes back into the dresser as fast as she’s throwing them out, frustration growing with every shirt you have to refold.

Ikkaku doesn’t offer much explanation. “It’s for the captain.”

You stand there staring at her, dumbfounded, until a stray shirt is thrown at your face. “What’s for the captain?” You finally ask.

Ikakku moves onto the next drawer and keeps digging through your clothes, unfazed by your question. “You gotta dress to impress, sweetheart!”

“Why would I do that?” Your voice comes out choked, and you know your secret has been found out. You still can’t find the will to move, even though your friend is continuing to demolish your room.

Finally, your words catch up to Ikakku, and she turns to face you. She stares at you a long while, as if she’s trying to decide if you’re even worth explaining her motives to. After a few long seconds, Ikakku laughs. “Don’t try to deny it, dear. I know you’re head over heels for him.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. She says it with such confidence that you know there’s no point in denying it. Ikakku always had a sixth sense for these things. “How long have you known?”

“I’ve had my suspicions for a little while, but you made it pretty obvious during game night. At this point everyone must know.” There’s something extra in her voice that sends you over the edge. She said her words so condescendingly, as if she pitied you and your circumstances.

“Get out! Get out now!” You shoved Ikakku out the door and slammed it behind her, refusing to come out until the dinner call. You feel so humiliated, though you’re not sure why. Your cheeks still turn pink at the thought of that night, which was the last time you had talked to your captain in three days. It felt like Shachi and Ikakku had ruined your entire relationship with the captain because of that stupid dare, and now they were trying to meddle in your life even more.

--

You were late to dinner because of Penguin. He was trying to get you to put a nicer outfit on, which led to a big fight and left you in a sour mood. By the time the two of you got there, only two seats remained. One next to Shachi, which was obviously meant for Penguin, and one next to the captain, which was obviously meant for you.

Everyone’s eyes followed you as you took your place next to Law, but nobody said anything. You could see Ikakku and Shachi silently questioning Penguin over your outfit choice, but he simply rolled his eyes and waved it off. A few members exchanged glances, and you could feel that someone was waiting for something to happen.

“Sorry for being late to dinner, everyone.” You finally say, trying to sound genuine.

“Shall we eat, then?” Law spoke to the crew, ignoring you and your apology, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

You didn’t have much of an appetite, and you weren’t in the mood to talk to the man who you had spent the past few days avoiding, so you occupied your time by pushing your food around on your plate. You tried to take a few bites every now and then, but you weren’t making much of a dent on your food.

“Y/N-ya.” The voice made you freeze. It was the first time your captain had spoken to you since game night. Your eyes shifted over to your captain, but when you made eye contact with him, they darted back to the peas on your plate.

“Are you feeling okay?” There was a calculated levelness in his voice. You go the sense he was asking as a doctor, not as a captain or a friend. 

“I’m fine.”

You could see his eye twitch in irritation, but his voice remained calm. “If you would like something else to eat-”

“I don’t.” You interrupt, not giving him the chance to finish his sentence. The other conversations at the table start to die down, and you’ve become painfully aware of everyone’s eyes on you now.

“Captainnnn,” Shachi called to the man next to you. “How about you give Y/N some of your food?”

You’re not sure why, but something snaps inside of you. He’s using that same condescending tone that Ikakku used with you earlier, and the anger that has built inside you over the past three days finally explodes.

“How about you go straight to hell, Shachi?” You say, slamming your fork down onto the table. You see everyone’s mouths fall open in shock, including your captain’s, but you don’t care anymore. You storm out of the room and back to your cabin, furious with the position you’ve allowed yourself to be put into because you have feelings for some guy. You lock your door to avoid unwanted visitors, but nobody tries to come talk to you anyway.

--

“It’s not my fault that they want to rip off each other’s clothes!” You freeze as you hear Shachi’s voice call out in frustration from the kitchen down the hall. You hadn’t seen them-or anyone- since dinner last night, and you were hoping to avoid everyone while you ventured to the kitchen for lunch today. You had even waited until far after the normal lunchtime to lower your chances of running into someone, but it seems you had waiting too long and now you had stumbled upon the people who were cooking dinner tonight.

“Hush!” A feminine voice scolds at the man in a low hiss. Ikkaku. “Someone is going to hear you.”

“I don’t care if they do hear me!” Shachi shoots back. “Everyone on this damn ship can see it except them! It’s been painfully obvious since game night! The way they avoid each other now, the glances over dinner, and now all this hostility!?! I knew the captain would be pissed at us, but  now…”

He trails off, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks when you realize it is you they are talking about. You stay frozen in the hallway, praying that nobody comes around the corner and catches you eavesdropping.

“Listen,” Shachi continues, now in a full-blown rant. “Captain told me that he liked Y/N! And Y/N told you the same thing, right? What were they expecting us to do? Of course we’re going to meddle in that! We’re the most meddlesome people on the ship! They wanted us to intervene! And we did and now they’re avoiding each other like they have some kind of plague and I’m so tired of it!” He pauses for a beat. “We should just tell them.”

Your hand flies up to your mouth to stifle a horrified gasp and Ikkaku speaks in a deadly serious tone. “We are not doing that, Shachi. Neither of them would ever forgive us.”

“I know, I know.” Shachi seems to have calmed down a bit. “It’s just frustrating to watch. And now they’re both upset with us. I just want them to be happy.”

“As do I. Come on, let’s make dinner,” Ikkaku suggests, trying to change the subject. “We’ll figure out a way to make them forgive us and each other. Until then, we’ll just count their awkward glances.”

“The record is eleven, you know. Eleven times they made eye contact and then quickly glanced away from each other. Just at one dinner!”

So they had noticed the looks you and Law had been sharing. In fact, the more they talk, it sounds like they had been actively watching the two of you. It seems like it was a sort of game to them. They were able to recall most of the ones that had happened over the previous nights, chatting quietly and laughing at the exceptionally embarrassing ones.

There was no way you could face them after learning this. There was no way you could face anyone on the ship. You wanted to go hide in your room forever. You retreat back down the hallway the way you came and quickly rounded the corner to return to your room.

You crashed into someone as you turned the corner, too in a hurry to notice them until it was too late. You’re about to let out a small squeal of surprise when a hand covers your mouth tightly. Panic sets in for a moment, thinking someone may have stowed away on the ship, but when you see equally wide golden eyes staring down at you, you feel a twinge of relief.

A different kind of panic sets in, and your heartbeat starts to pick up. Suddenly, you’re painfully aware of how close you are to your captain; how his tattooed fingers are still gripping around your face, holding your mouth shut.

He must realize it too, because his face begins to tint with pink, and he releases you from his grasp. He holds a finger up to his lips and looks around the corner to see if anyone is watching, but Shachi and Ikkaku are still chatting in the kitchen, and nobody else is in the hallway. He takes your wrist and silently leads you away from the kitchen in the direction of his office.

You can feel your heart rate accelerating in your chest with every step closer to the captain’s quarters. Based on his reaction, you weren’t the only one who had heard Shachi’s and Ikkaku’s conversation in the kitchen. A part of you wanted to run, to find a way to put as much distance between you and your captain as you could on this small ship. But you let him lead you down the halls, too afraid to say or do anything else but follow him.

He didn’t look back at you the entire time you walked through the halls. His pace was fast, and at times you struggled to keep up. He quickly opened the door to his office and yanked you inside, looking back in the hallway once more to make sure you weren’t followed before closing it and locking the deadbolt firmly.

“What are you-” You had begun to question him, but quickly lost your voice when he started towards you with such intensity.

“Shachi and Ikakku, were they telling the truth?” His voice is harsh and rough when he speaks to you. You could hear the disbelief in his words, and you knew for a fact that he had heard them in the kitchen. He was towering over you with an intense gaze, and you were doing your best not to cower away from him like before.

“What-”

“A yes or no will do.” He takes a step towards you, and you instinctively step backwards, pressing your back against a random bookcase behind you. He had you cornered now, and your stomach ties into a knot as you look up at him. You feel so small, trapped here in his office with him. There’s a hungry look in his eyes, like a predator when they’ve found their next meal. He’s a little terrifying, yet you can’t bring yourself to look away from him.

“Y/N.” He prompts again. He didn’t add the normal nickname to it, which was a solidified sign that he was pissed. You didn’t normally find your captain intimidating, but since game night he made your hair stand on edge. You’re too embarrassed to admit your feelings for him, not while staring straight in the eyes like this. You finally break away from his gaze and stare at the floor, too ashamed to answer.

But your captain wants your full attention, and Law’s index finger tucks under your chin and guides your face back up to meet him, beckoning you to look him in the eyes again. You resist at first, but eventually give in, locking back into his honey irises.

He leans down, only centimeters from your face. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your lips as he exhales. His breath is hitched and shallow, warm as it brushes against your skin.

Your knees feel weak with him so close to you, and think they might give out any second. The electricity between the two of you is palpable, and you wonder if this is what it means to be alive. You are suspended in this moment only with him, completely isolated from the outside world and everyone in it.

“Was it the truth?” He whispers the question softly this time, and now you can sense a trace of hope laced into his words. You open your mouth to respond, but your words fail you. He looks down at your lips, waiting, and you do the only thing you can. You nod.

That’s all he needs. His lips crash into yours with such force that you have to take a step back to steady yourself, but you stumble against the bookcase. Law’s free hand wraps tightly around you to help you stay balanced, and he pushes you back against the bookcase for more support. Inked fingers trace your jawline and cup your cheek, pulling you closer to him while he leans further into you. There’s been far too much distance between the two of you recently, and he needs to make up for lost time.

You wrap your arms around his body, digging your fingernails into the back of his shirt as you pull him against you, showing him how much you want this-how much you need this. His tongue flicked across your lips and a soft moan escaped your mouth as your lips parted, granting him access to you. He dives in without hesitation, eager for his first taste of you.

His hands trailed down your back, sending shivers throughout your entire body. He reached your waist, and you could feel him hesitate for a moment, unsure how much further to proceed. You press against him harder, encouraging him further, and your hands move upwards, wrapping around his neck to pull him into you more. Your fingers twisted around his midnight locks, tugging at them gently.

His lips finally release from your mouth, and you gasp for air while you have a second to breathe. Both of his hands slip under your ass and he lifts you up, your back still against the shelf for assistance. Your legs wrap around his body, pulling him into you.

He kissed your jawline, and then slowly made his way down to your neck. The sensation of his tongue swirling and his lips sucking on your sensitive skin made you pull at his hair harder, shoving his mouth further into your nape. You had to bite your lips to stifle a moan, and he gave a dark chuckle against your skin.

“Come on now,” he teased, nipping at your neck a few times. “Moan for me, y/n-ya”

You didn’t immediately oblige, and he was quickly growing impatient. His lips continued to suck at your skin with such ferocity that you were sure his marks of passion would be displayed there later. He gripped your ass tighter and pushed his groin into the opening between your legs. You could feel his hardened cock through his jeans grinding against you, and you couldn’t hold your words in any longer.

“Fuck, Captain!” You had tried to keep quiet, but the moan rang out loudly against the silent room.  Either Law didn’t care about the level of your voice, or he liked it. Judging by the way he thrust into you again, you would guess the latter. Your fingers dug deeper into his locks, pure ecstasy running through your veins now. You wanted to ride this high all the way to the end with your captain, and you continued to call out his name every time his bulge rubbed against you in the perfect way.

Law abandoned your neck to return back to your lips again, muffling your moans with his mouth. He continued to grip your ass tightly and push into you, and you could hear books falling to the ground behind you as his pace began to pick up.

“Errr, Captain?” The voice came from the other side of the door, distorted and concerned. In shock, Law pulled away from you and your hand flew to your mouth in horror, both of you frozen in place.

The door jiggled, and your eyes widened at its movement. Thankfully it stayed shut, locked earlier by the captain.

Law’s eyes stayed connected with yours. He kept you against him, refusing to put you down. “What is it, Bepo?”

“Is everything okay, Captain? I was coming to tell you dinner is ready, and I heard some commotion as I-“

Law cut him off before he let Bepo’s rambling go on too long. “Everything is fine, Bepo. Thank you. We will be at dinner soon.”

Your eyes widen at him, and he realizes his mistake too late.

“We?”

Law curses under his breath and you smile at his uncharacteristic slip up. You can only thank the stars that it’s Bepo summoning him and not anyone else on the crew.

“I’ll see you at dinner, Bepo.” Law corrects, and you can hear Bepo’s feet padding away down the hall without further commentary.

You start to unwrap your legs from around his waist, but he grips you tighter, refusing to release you just yet.

You giggle at him and place a quick kiss on his nose, and in shock, his arms loosen from around you. He releases you, and you hop down happily. All the tension between you two has finally broken, and the air feels lighter now

You do a quick check in the mirror nearby, and attempt to fix the things you can control. You use your fingers to comb through your hair quickly and smooth your shirt, trying your best to make yourself look presentable. Unfortunately, there’s nothing you can do about the welts that are already forming on your neck other than pull up your shirt collar and hope for the best.

“Go ahead, I’m going to clean up and then I’ll be there.” Law bends down to pick up his hat and places it back on his head. It must’ve fallen off at some point, though you’re not sure when. He waves you on, bending back down to begin collecting the books you’ve scattered across the floor.

You start to think that you’ve done something wrong or he’s ashamed to be seen with you, and you feel that familiar pit forming in your stomach.

“Save me a seat,” he calls to you as you exit the room, and your fear instantly melts away.

You walk into the kitchen to find that most people have already congregated around the table. A few people look over to see you come in, and your eyes find Shachi. You smile at him politely, trying to start the process of making up for your outburst yesterday. His eyes glance down to your neck, and you watch as his eyes grow wide. He mutters something to Ikakku and Penguin, and you look away before you become more embarrassed.

You take a seat, and a few minutes later Law walks in and sits next to you. He’s sitting extremely close to you, his leg pressed against yours. You try to avoid the looks Shachi is sharing with the rest of the crew.

Dinner starts out casual, everyone attempting to ignore the elephant in the room. You were chatty with your crew mates, and everyone began to relax more. It finally felt like the crew dynamic was returning to normal again.

Halfway through dinner, you feel a hand rest on the top of your thigh, and you resist the urge to look over at your captain. You can feel his thumb lazily rubbing in circles, and electricity starts through your veins again.

After a few moments his fingers reach down, gripping your inner thigh and giving it a squeeze. You have to bite down on your lip to avoid showing any outward signs of his advancements. You snap your legs shut and attempt to continue your conversation with Clione, ignoring the hint of a smirk dancing across Law’s face.

He pushed further into your inner thigh, massaging it slowly. Continuing his taunt, he spreads his fingers closer to your core and flexes his fingers against you. You shift away from him, and he gripped your thigh harder to prevent you from completely leaving his grasp.

He leans close to you, whispering so only you can hear him. His voice is low and thick with desire. “Do you want to finish what we started?”

Your cheeks burn as he releases your thigh and gets up from the table, not waiting for your response. You wait a few moments before deciding to follow him.

“Thank you, Shachi.” You look at him and pause, and you can feel a sense of understanding pass between you two. “For the meal.” You add in, for sake of appearance.

You get up and walk out of the room, and Law is waiting for you outside. He grabs your hand and leads you back towards his office once again. You’re uncertain of what lies ahead, but it’s better than where you’ve been.

“Thank FUCK!” You hear Shachi scream from the kitchen, and the crew joins in with a chorus of laughter. You found yourself agreeing with them, grinning to yourself as the captain pulls you along, hand laced in yours.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #law x y/n #trafalgar law smut #cozage #✧˚law✧˚

[crypticreid]

KINKTOBER DAY THREE

October 8 -- Begging

masterlist

author's note: this was supposed to be mutual masturbation, but I wasn't feeling it, so I switched it to begging. Thank you again for everyone reading and supporting. 💕💕💕 If you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know! 🎃🎃🎃

summary: Spencer can't help but be upset with the choice you made, so he takes out his frustration in your hotel room later.

warnings: female reader, dom!spencer, begging, a little bit of 'good girl', hand job, fingering, female receiving oral, multiple orgasms

word count: 3.6k

this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

His eyes flick over to you, and you can read him like a book. The anger and frustration battle across his features as he opens his mouth to argue against your suggestion. You speak before he can, “I know this is dangerous, but I trust all of you to keep me safe. We have to do this.” Spencer slams his mouth shut and forcefully turns his head from you. Your stomach drops, but you know you’re making the right decision. This case will be over in a couple of hours, and then you can talk this out with him, and everything will be fine. 

If anyone notices Spencer’s reaction, they don’t say anything. Instead, most of the team looks at you with worried expressions. Hotch is assessing you, his arms crossed tight over his broad chest. “This guy is erratic and unpredictable.” He says in his calm and calculated tone. 

“He’s going to attack tonight. We know that this vigil is going to draw him. He can’t resist it. All I need to do is distract him long enough for you to move in.” You explain rationally. “We can’t allow more people to die, and I’m the only one who hasn’t been identified as an agent by the media.” 

You refuse to break eye contact with Hotch. You steady your breathing and straighten your shoulders. You’re confident in this choice, and Hotch knows you won’t back down. He nods, “okay.” 

“Okay?” Spencer interjects, his voice breaking slightly from his heightened emotion. “You can’t be serious, Hotch.” 

“This is her choice.” Hotch answers, and everyone in the room seems to hold their breath as they wait for you to reply. 

Hotch clears his throat, “let’s get started. We’ve got four hours until the vigil.” 

You level your gaze at Spencer, trying to telepathically tell him you’re sorry. “I have to do this.” Spencer’s jaw sets hard. You see the muscles flex against each other. He turns away from you and leaves the room.

“He’s just worried. We all are.” Emily reaches out for you and rubs a comforting hand up and down your arm. You nod. 

You don’t see Spencer again until you’re in the SUV five blocks away from the site of the vigil. Morgan had spent the entire ride over repeating the plan to you and making sure you understood exactly where everyone else was going to be. You kept nodding and letting him start over again because you knew that this was how Morgan made himself feel better about the situation. Before he got out of the vehicle, he had reached over to the passenger seat and grasped your shoulder. “You’re brave. And you’re damn good at your job. We’ll catch this bastard.” 

Now you’re alone, glancing at the watch on your wrist. In ten minutes, you’re going to get out of the car and walk toward the vigil. It’s chilly enough that you have a jacket on, and it doesn’t even look like you’re wearing a vest underneath your clothing. You let out a shaky breath and try to calm your nerves. 

You jump when the passenger door swings open and you reach for your holster automatically. “It’s me.” Spencer says, and you take your hand away. 

“You’re supposed to already be at the vigil.” You mutter and look straight ahead out the windshield because you can’t look at him. You can’t handle seeing any sort of anger on his face. 

“I know.” He says your name, and you turn to face him. The anger in his eyes has dissipated, and only fear remains. 

“Spencer, I’ll be –” You start, but you’re interrupted by his hands grabbing the side of your face and pulling you in for a kiss. It’s forceful and meaningful, and your hands find a tight grip on his shoulders. The two of you say goodbye to each other with your lips and tongues, neither one of you wanting to break apart, to face reality. 

Finally, he pulls away from you and sets his hands on your shoulders. “Be safe. Please.” 

You incline your head toward his, connecting your forehead to his. “I will.” 

He kisses you again, with less force, but with the same meaning, and then steps away and closes the car door. You watch as he walks down the alley until he completely disappears. And then a few minutes later, you get out and walk the opposite direction down the alley. 

Your hotel room is dark, and only the lights on the nightstand work, but you’re too exhausted to complain. After wrapping the case, Hotch had told everyone to head to the hotel for a few hours, and you would fly out in the morning. No one argued because you hadn’t even seen your hotel room since landing. 

You’ve taken a shower, changed into pajamas, and started to get comfortable in bed when there’s a knock on your door. You climb out of bed and look through the peephole to see Spencer standing in the hallway. Quickly, you open the door and step aside for him to come inside. As soon as you shut the door and turn around, he has his hands on you, your waist, your hips, shaky hands traveling across your skin. 

“I’m okay, Spencer. Not even a scratch. I’m fine.” You reassure him with a calm and steady voice. He doesn’t stop his hands and won’t look you in the eyes, so you reach out for him. Your own hands hold onto both sides of his face and force him to look into your eyes. “I’m fine.” You repeat. 

He swallows and nods and blinks away the tears that were gathering in his eyes. “Don’t do that again, please.” 

You know you can’t promise that, but you also know that Spencer doesn’t want to hear that right now. “Okay.” He kisses your cheek. “Okay.” He kisses your other cheek and then your forehead and, finally, your lips. His hands on your hips pull you tighter against him like he can’t have you close enough, like he wants the two of you to merge together as one person. Your hands move up into his hair, fingers tangling into soft locks, nails scratching against his scalp. His moan vibrates against your lips, and he deepens the kiss. His grip on your hips is vice-like. You groan into his mouth. 

He mumbles your name, and you answer with a moan, suddenly desperate for every part of him. The stress of the day comes to a head, and you just want your mind to go blank. Spencer is the only person who can make your brain stop its constant ruminations. 

“Please, Spencer.” You urge him with your words, but also a quick movement of your hips against him. You move your hands away from his hair and down the back of his neck toward his clavicle and then start to fumble with the buttons of his shirt. 

You only get one button undone before he says, “stop.” He breaks away from your lips, and his hands wrap around both of your wrists and pull your hands off of his shirt. When you look into his eyes, the anger is back, not as fiery and passionate as it was hours before but low and simmering just below the surface. “You think you just get what you want after that?” 

His voice is heavy with emotion, and it zings straight to your lower belly. You want to smile, but press your lips together instead and shake your head. 

“Answer me.” 

“No.” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t give you anything tonight, huh?” He moves one of your wrists into his other hand so that he has both of them wrapped in one hand. The hand that's now free moves to your neck, a finger trailing down to your clavicle. You swallow against it. “I should leave this room right now. Leave you all alone and so needy.” 

You swallow again. “Spencer, please.” 

He lifts your wrists above your head and pushes you up against the door of the hotel room in rapid succession. You let out a sharp gasp at the movement. “Please, what? What do you want?” His other hand has found another place back on your hip, gripping it, his thumb rubbing back and forth on a bit of skin peeking out from your old Academy t-shirt. 

“Please don’t leave.” You whisper. The hand on your hip slides underneath your shirt and up your stomach toward your breasts. His fingertips are barely there against your skin, enough to make your skin tingle, and goosebumps bloom, but not enough to satiate any need for his touch. 

He drags one of his fingers across the underside of your breast, and your hands twitch in his grasp above your head. He twists his grip and tightens it. 

The hand near your breast spreads across your breast and grabs it. You arch your back into his touch. “You need it so bad, don’t you?” 

“Yes. I need it.” You don’t even attempt to play coy and press your thighs together, trying to get any sort of relief between them. 

Spencer ducks his head against your exposed neck and kisses it roughly, nips at it without leaving a mark, and then licks and soothes where his teeth nibbled. “Are you going to listen?” 

You nod before realizing that you need to answer verbally. “Yes. Yes. I will. I promise.” 

He laughs against your neck. His breaths on your skin make you press your thighs tighter together. “You’re going to do as you’re told.” It isn’t a question. 

“Yes.” You confirm. 

His lips find yours again, and the hand up your shirt tightens on your breast, his thumb finding your nipple, teasing it back and forth. He kisses you slowly, pulling your bottom lip with his teeth and then racing to brush his tongue against it. A constant tug of war between a ping of pain and a rush of comfort. You take all of it, anything he is willing to give you, you want all of it. 

When his thumb and pointer finger takes your nipple and rolls it between a pinch of his fingers, you let out a desperate noise. 

“Spencer.” 

He makes a deep noise from the back of his throat but doesn’t stop kissing you or pinching your nipple. A pulse all of its own begins in your core, fluttery and demanding. 

“I’ll do anything, please.”  He bites at your clavicle, the only place he’s marked you so far because he knows it will be covered by your shirt in the morning. 

“You’re going to leave your hands above your head, do you understand?” He finally instructs. 

“Yes.” 

“You don’t get to touch me.” 

“Spencer,” you start to protest, but you look into his eyes and stop yourself. 

“You touch me, and I stop. Do you understand?” 

You swallow. “Yes.”  

“Good.” He goes back to your neck, teasing and tasting your skin, driving you crazy with want. But you don’t dare move. If he pulls away completely now and leaves, you think you might lose your mind. 

In between his soft bites, he instructs, “I’m going to let go of your wrists, okay? But you’re not going to move them. Leave them exactly where they are. And then I’m going to get on my knees and make you come as many times as I want. But if you touch me at all, I’m going to go back to my hotel room and leave you here all alone. Okay?” 

“Okay.” You nod feverishly. He lets go of your wrists, and you don’t move a muscle. 

He smiles smugly and pinches your nipple one last time before sliding down to his knees in front of you. His fingers graze up the back of your calves and thighs and then to the front of your thighs. He pushes your legs apart, and you lean back further on the door for support as he pulls down your pajama pants, leaving your underwear on. 

“Look at you,” he tuts. “Soaking through your panties just from a couple of kisses.” 

You let out a frustrated breath. “It was more than a couple kisses.” 

A muscle in his jaw ticks, and you slam your mouth shut. “Are you going to waste my time? Talking back with that smart mouth?” 

“No.” 

“I can think of better uses for that mouth. You can’t talk back with my cock down your throat, can you?” 

You swallow harshly, and you feel yourself getting wetter. “No, I can’t.” 

He leans forward, and you hold your breath, waiting, but he kisses your inner thigh instead. And then he starts the same pattern of kissing and nipping he’d done earlier, but now on your thigh. His hands are on your ass, massaging and rubbing. As he moves to your other thigh, he makes a point to incline toward the place you need him so desperately, but he only exhales across it. You whimper, and you feel the turn of a smile on his lips as he presses into your thigh. 

It is basically torture, and it’s taking every single ounce of self control you have not to grab his head and put him exactly where you want him. You know you can’t, so you beg instead, “please, Spencer. I can’t take the teasing anymore.” 

“Aw, my poor baby.” He taunts, and you grunt when he pulls away completely and removes his hands. He sits back on his heels and looks up at you. “Take off your shirt.” 

You do what he asks rapidly and then put your hands back above your head without him asking. He smiles, “good girl.” 

The room is dim, shadows play across his face, but he watches you as you breathe, your breasts rising and falling. He lifts hands and presses his palms up your stomach and then back down, causing more goosebumps springing up across your skin, toward your core, but he bypasses it and travels down your thighs instead. “I think you’ve ruined these panties, baby.” He laughs, mesmerized by the growing wet spot. Your clit is throbbing and you feel like you could fall apart with only one single touch from him. 

“What would you do if I stopped now?” He wraps his hands across your thighs and squeezes and then looks up to your eyes. “Stood up and walked out of this room?” 

You would probably spend the rest of your night touching yourself until you couldn’t handle it, but you don’t want that. “Please don’t.” You reply instead. “Please touch me, Spencer.” 

He squeezes your thighs again. “I am touching you.” 

You groan, frustrated. “Touch my pussy, please. I need it.” You give in. He can’t help his smile as he moves one hand over slightly and uses his thumb to touch the wet spot on your underwear. He presses into you over the fabric. It’s only the tip of the iceberg, but you moan anyway because you’re so desperate. 

He presses deeper, wetting his thumb through the fabric, and then moves it upward, finally rubbing over your throbbing clit. You let out a shaky breath and lean forward slightly. His thumb rubs up and down on your clit lightly, practically a feather-like touch. He doesn’t use any pressure on it. You move your hips forward, trying to force some pressure, but just pulls away. 

“Spencer.” You whimper. 

He laughs, “so whiney.” He puts his thumb back and continues in the exact same way as before. You lean back fully back on the door with a small cry. “Do you want to come?” He asks.

You screw your eyes shut and nod furiously. 

“Open your eyes and answer me.” 

You force your eyes open. “I want to come, please, Spencer.” You try to get rid of the whine in your voice, but you don’t succeed.  

“Yeah, I can tell you do.” He uses just a little more pressure on your clit and begins to circle it. You shiver and let out a pitiful moan. “So needy. So desperate.” He mutters and leans forward to kiss along your thigh again. Your hips buck against him involuntarily. “You can come whenever you want, baby.” 

“I need more.” 

“No.” He kisses your thigh again and looks up to your eyes. “You come from this.” You curl your toes on the floor and push your head back. “I’ll give you more when you come.” His thumb continues its barely enough circles on your clit and you exhale. “Don’t you want more?” 

“Yes!” You huff. 

“Then come.” He nips your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to your clenching pussy, but never actually reaching it. His other hand moves back to your ass and he kisses your other thigh. You can feel the deep pleasure at the base of your spine and you give yourself over to it. “That’s it, so good, baby. Come just like this.” 

You come hard and force your hands to stay above your head, your hips bucking against Spencer’s hand. He moves his hand from your ass and holds onto your hip to stay your movements. Once you come down from your high he pulls down your underwear and sticks his thumb into your pussy. 

“You're dripping, baby.” He murmurs and fingers you for a few seconds until swiping the thumb back up to your clit. You’ve barely had time to recover from your first orgasm and you let out a small breathy shout. “Ssshh, we can’t let anyone else hear how needy you are.” 

You bit your lip to contain your whimpers. Spencer’s thumb circles your clit, using the pressure you need. Another wave of pleasure is already rising, gathering low in your belly. “Do you want my fingers, baby?” 

“Please. Spencer. Yes. I need them. Please.” You ramble. 

He takes the hand that’s on your hip and inserts his middle and ring fingers into you, immediately pressing into you, rubbing against the spot inside you that makes you want to scream. You swallow the shout that you can’t let out and instead continue to ramble to Spencer. Your legs shake as you give into another wave of pleasure. 

“That’s it, give me another one. So good, baby.” You come against his hand again, but this time Spencer doesn’t let you come down from it. Instead, he moves the hand off your clit and grips your hip to hold you in place as his mouth replaces his hand. You ride his tongue through the aftershocks of your orgasm and let the next wave begin to crest. His fingers never falter as he fingers you. He pulls away for only a split second, “touch me.” 

Your hands fall from the door instantly and tangle in his hair, grasping and scratching, finally getting to push him harshly into you. He moans against you, sending vibrations up your body. You come one more time with a small shout, as quiet as you can. Your legs are shaky and unstable, but Spencer holds you tightly as he takes his time licking you clean. 

When he stands up to his full height, you pull him into a kiss and then lower your hands down to his belt. He breaks the kiss, “I don’t have a condom.” 

You kiss him and continue to take off his belt. “I don’t care.” You get his belt undone, unbuckle his pants, and reach in to take him in your hand. He’s unbelievably hard. The feeling of him is so heavy in your hand. 

He puts his hands on your shoulders as he takes a shuddering breath. “You should care. We haven’t talked about this yet. And you’re in the heat of the moment.” He rationalizes. 

You stick out your bottom lip because you know he’s right. “Can we talk about it later? Cause I want you, all of you.” You squeeze the base of him. His eyes flutter shut and then flip back open as he licks his bottom lip. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll talk about it.” Then he kisses you again as you pump your hand up and down on him, your thumb swiping at his leaking head. “Oh shit. Don’t stop.” He stutters against your lips. His kisses are sloppy and nothing like his calculated kisses earlier, but you don’t care. He’s pumping his hips into you, so completely lost in the feeling of your hand on him. 

It doesn’t take long until he’s moaning into your mouth, “so good. You’re so good,” he rambles. One of his hands reaches for your hair and pulls your head back so he can look into your eyes. You bite your bottom lip, and he comes in his pants with a harsh grunt. 

He kisses you, and you keep moving your hand until he’s hissing from sensitivity and pulling away from you. 

The hand in your hair tightens and pulls you back into a deep kiss until you're both breathless. You subtly wipe your hand on his underwear because they’re already a mess, and then both hands hold onto his waist until his kisses slow down. 

“I’m sorry for being angry.” He finally says. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow. I guess today, technically. But at home, I mean.” He looks into your eyes, searching. 

He nods. “Okay.” And he kisses you again, light and feathery. “I need to go clean up before we leave.” 

Your fingers play with the edge of his pants. “Or you could stay, and I could clean you up.” You offer with a not so innocent smile. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He kisses you chastely and pulls away. He looks around for your shirt and pants and then helps you get dressed again. “See you on the jet.” 

You step away from the door and let him leave. In a few hours, you’ll have to board the jet and pretend that the genius profiler on your team didn’t just give you three mind blowing orgasms, so for now you allow yourself to watch him walk down the hotel hallway. He scrambles to buckle his belt as he walks and then runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. You go back into your room with a smile.

tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #my writing

[marvelsswansong]

total mystery

summary: The new mystery on the block isn’t a new supernatural entity or government scientists. But rather the fact that somehow, the preppy, popular, cheer co-captain and class president of Hawkins High is dating Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson: repeat senior and leader of the Hellfire Club.

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, everyone at Hawkins High (1) simps for you and (2) cannot believe their eyes and ears lol, pure fluff, typical opposites attract romance, Steve and Robin banter, Jason slander, humor, one OC named Carl, Eddie just being really goddamn in love to the point it's sickening

☆ word count: 3.8K+ ☆

a/n: the chokehold this man has over all of us... I get it now. Also I changed some stuff from the show to fit the story so please overlook any discrepancies!!! also i feel like i wrote too many kisses i'm sorry if that's annoying haha

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

“Did you hear?” Robin doesn’t even bother to greet Steve, seemingly out of breath and frazzled as she slides behind the counter of Family Video. Raising his eyebrow in confusion, Steve frowns and shakes his head sideways.

“Hear what?” 

Robin grins mischeviously, looking side to side before leaning over to whisper.

“Apparently, (Y/n) (L/n) is dating Eddie Munson.” 

Steve almost chokes on the can of diet coke he’s drinking, the carbonated liquid burning his throat as he coughs repeatedly to catch his breath. Robin looks way too amused for her own good, simply swinging her legs off of the counter as she adjusts her name tag onto her shirt. He has no idea how she can be so casual about it all, when Steve's eyes are almost bugging out of their sockets.

“THE (Y/n)? Like, co-captain of the cheer team, student president for two years in a row, only wears dresses and skirts to school every day (Y/n)?” 

Robins rolls her eyes at her best friend’s dramatic reaction.

“Obviously. Do you know any other girls at Hawkins High with her exact name?” 

Steve was suddenly grateful that today was a slow day - there was an eldery couple at the back looking through the historical fiction section and a young son and his mother lazily flicking through the new arrivals section, but otherwise the store was quite empty. Giving him a perfect excuse to press Robin for more information on this salacious rumor.

“Where did you even hear this?"  

Robin shrugs, sliding off the counter to begin sorting through the cash register. 

“Had to take a bus here and a group of juniors happened to be sitting in front of me. It’s all they could talk about for the entire twenty minute ride.” 

Steve suppresses an eye roll at her response, turning sideways to glare at the busy brunette.

“Oh come on, then you CAN’T take the rumor seriously. People gossip all the time at Hawkins High! Most likely, someone saw them interacting in a very innocent manner - like running into each other in the hallway - and spun a romantic story out of it to fill their boredom.” 

Robin clicks her tongue, shrugging her shoulders once more before closing the register and looking up at him with a sigh.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Steve. It’s just what I heard. And…” she pauses, chuckling. “In a weird way, I can kind of see it happening.” 

“You’re completely out of your mind, Buckley.” Steve counters, confident that she's wrong. 

“Yeah? How much you willing to bet for it?” Robin has a gut feeling that she’s right, and she’ll never pass up a chance to (a) prove Steve Harrington wrong and (b) make some money from it. Luckily, Steve seems to take the bait, straightening up at her proposal.

“Please, I’m confident enough to bet you $20 out the gate.” 

“$20?! You’re-” 

Then as fate would have it, the front door swings open and you enter the store, your white tweed jacket and matching skirt a sore contrast to the bright blue and red neon color palette of the store. Clutching a small leather handbag over your left shoulder, you seem a bit lost on where to start, before you make your way over to the new arrivals section. Steve hasn’t really seen you since his graduation a year ago - he was always aware of you, and the two of you did share some mutual friends - but he’d never really taken the time to get to know you. 

But now, staring at you from the counter, Steven wishes he had made the effort to at least befriend you. He's watching in awe as your perfectly manicured nails tap alongside the cover of a random action movie, your bright eyes squinting at the title before turning it over to examine another tape. The neon glow from the signs above seem to illuminate your face perfectly, exposing your soft blush and sticky lipgloss, your lips parting ever so slightly to sound out the movie titles. 

“Oy.” Robin then elbows him on the side, causing Steve to wince in mock pain. “Stop ogling at her. I know she’s hot, but she’s taken, remember?” 

Steve glares at her response, before rolling up his sleeves and stretching his neck. 

“Yeah right. Anyways. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go help our new… customer.” 

Robin attempts to stop him but now there’s a line of previous customers at the checkout counter, effectively pinning her to behind the cash register. But then she spots Eddie’s van pull up in the parking lot outside, and suddenly that didn't seem so bad. Oh, this was going to be so interesting for her to watch.

You’re stuck trying to decide between two movies - Footloose and Sixteen Candles - when Steve casually strolls up next to you, flipping on his boyish charm. You sense someone else’s presence behind you and turn around to see Steve Harrington, pointing at the two selections you’re holding with a smile on his face.

“They’re both really good picks, but I prefer Footloose. It’s the perfect mix of comedy and drama. Plus you can’t go wrong with Kevin Bacon dancing to rock music in a town where it’s illegal.” 

His comment makes you giggle - a light, melodic sound that makes Steve's whole body buzz with warmth.

“Thanks, Steve. Good to see you here, I haven’t seen you around since-” 

“Since graduation, yeah. You’re almost there too, huh?” he teases, and you shift nervously on your feet.

“Oh yeah, senior year and all! I can’t believe my four years are coming to an end. It feels like just yesterday that I was a freshman, starting out in Hawkins as the new kid with zero friends. I’m so glad I’m not a freshman anymore.” you laugh nervously.

“I’m glad you’re not a freshman anymore, either.” Steve offers, stepping closer to you.

“Why’s that?” you hum, amused. Steve's grin widens as he prepares his next sentence.

“Cause now that you’re no longer a freshman, I can ask you-”

But Steve doesn't get to finish his sentence when two strong arms suddenly wrap around your waist, accompanied by a voice whispering “boo” into your ears. You jump at the sudden contact and noise, before realization dawns on you and you turn around to face Eddie, a semi-frown etched on your face.

“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack.” you smack him in the chest with your bag lightly, causing him to double over in laughter. 

“I’m sorry, princess. But you’re just too fun to tease.” 

Princess.

Steve’s blood runs ice cold at the nickname, as his eyes do a double take at the sight of you two together. His gaze follows as Eddie wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you right up against him as the metalhead takes out one of the movies from your hands and inspects it in the light.

“Sixteen Candles, huh? I know I said you could pick the movie this time but you’re really killing me with these choices, angel.” 

“Oh actually, Steve recommended Footloose so I think we should rent that one!” you excitedly respond, linking your fingers with his. 

“Sounds good to me. Can we check this one out?” Eddie asks politely, as Steve blinks wordlessly for a few moments. He’s shell shocked, embarrassed and confused as he forces himself to nod, trodding up to the counter and practically shoving Robin to the side to scan the damn VHS. 

“Hi Robin!” you greet the girl at the counter with a wide smile, as her eyes light up.

“You know who I am?” 

“Of course I do! One of my big campaigns last year was to increase the budget for our school’s band. You're amazing, by the way."

The two of you engage in light dialogue, but it all falls on deaf ears for Steve. Quickly completing the transaction and giving Eddie a forced grin, he watches as Eddie links his fingers with yours again, walking you away from the counter. 

“Oh, wait!” you pause in your tracks, turning around to look at Steve. “Steve, you wanted to ask me something?” 

The silence in the store is almost painful, with you looking at Steve with such innocence and wonder, Robin (badly) stifling her laugh behind Steve, and Steve’s ears going pink with embarrassment. 

“No, it’s uh, it’s nothing! It was about student government but I can just ask someone else in the committee.” 

You frown at his response, concerned.

“Are you sure? You can ask me right now!” 

God, Steve wishes there was a hole he could dive under right now because the embarrassment is becoming almost unbearable. 

“Yeah I’m sure.”

You give him another dazzling smile, bidding him and Robin goodbye, before the door closes behind you and Eddie, your laughter ringing in Steve's ears as Eddie impatiently pulls you towards his car. Steve can basically feel Robin’s gaze burning into his back as he turns around, dejected and mortified. Robin opens her mouth to tease him, but Steve quickly holds his hand up to stop his best friend from speaking.

“I know, I know. That was pathetic.”

“And I was right.” Robin smugly adds. “About (Y/n) and Eddie.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Robin lets a few moments of silence pass before she pokes him on the side.

“So, about the $20….” 

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

“The two of them together? No fucking way.” Jason put out the lit cigarette dangling from his mouth as he leanged against the metal railings of the Starcourt Mall, glaring at his teammate, Carl, who had just said that he had seen you and Eddie making out behind the bleachers last Friday. “(Y/n) is like, one of the hottest girls in school. Why the hell would she settle for a freak like him?”

“Beats me, man. Maybe it was just a one time thing?” Carl weakly offers, shrugging his shoulders. Jason doesn’t seem very satisfied at his friend’s answer, craning his neck and looking over the side of the railings. The mall is as busy as it gets on a Saturday like today, with families, couples and friend groups pushing against each other from store to store. 

“I’ll see it when I believe it.” Jason puffs out his chest in annoyance, his tone laced with a twinge of anger and animosity that intrigues Carl. 

“You have something against her or something?” 

As soon as the question leaves Carl’s mouth, he remembers - last week’s party, by Chrissy’s pool house. Jason had strolled up to you with a drink in hand before asking you out, which you had flat out declined in front of basically the whole basketball team. It seemed as if the memory is also suddenly in Jason’s mind as the blonde rolls his eyes and shoves past his friend, swearing under his breath.

“You know damn well I don’t. Just shut the fuck up, okay? Let's just get some food."

His tone is decisive and Carl knows better than to push the blonde's temper any further.

“Sure.” 

The two of them don’t speak whilst walking towards the food court, the distant sound of muffled conversations and music from stores filling the air. Jason is taking his time to look around, comparing his options, when he hears your unmistakable laughter from the end of the hall. He tears his gaze away from the booth, only to see you perched on Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson’s lap, feeding him spoonfuls of ice cream as his ring clad fingers brush against your exposed knees. 

The sight makes the jock feel sick with anger and jealousy, and suddenly he’s glad that the mall is bustling with people. Through the crowds and crowds of strangers, the two of you seem blissfully unaware of the star basketball player’s envious gaze, too caught up in each other’s presence to notice anything else but each other. Then you kiss Eddie’s cheek, whispering something in his ears before leaving the ice cream cup in his hands to walk off somewhere. 

Ignoring Carl’s protests to just “leave them alone”, Jason finds himself strolling up to his enemy, Jason's steps forceful and hurried. Eddie’s smile falters ever so slightly when he looks up at who’s suddenly standing in front of him, before an amused smirk appears on his face.

“Jason. What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the honor, my good sir?” his voice is dripping with sarcasm and more than ever, Jason wants to smack the damn expression off of his face.

“Cut the shit, Munson. What the fuck are you doing with (Y/n)?” Jason aggressively questions.

“I was kissing her, duh.” Eddie responds as a matter-of-factedly, enjoying being able to tease the jock. It’s not often that Eddie has the true upper hand, actual power over someone like Jason - so he’s relishing in it now, watching the basketball player’s confident facade crumble like chalk as his chest heaves in angry breaths.

“I know that, jackass. I’m asking what the fuck you’re doing kissing HER.” the blonde presses, but Eddie simply leans back against the table nonchalantly, totally unbothered.

“She’s my girlfriend, buddy. What else would we be doing? Because if you’re worried that's all we do-” Eddie pauses, before leaning forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “No need. We do a lot more, if you get what I mean.” 

Jason’s hands flare upwards to land a punch on Eddie's face but Carl beats the blonde to it, wrapping a hand on Jason’s wrist and tugging his friend backwards. 

“He’s not worth it, dude. Besides, your mom said you’d be grounded if you got arrested for assault one more time.” 

Jason stares straightforward at Eddie Munson with nothing but hatred in his heart, whilst the metalhead looks proud and relaxed, amused at how everything has played out. Shoving his teammate off, Jason straightens up, brushing his varsity jacket sleeves with his hands before pointing a finger in Eddie’s face.

“This is far from over, Munson.” 

“Cool.” 

Eddie’s more than aware that Jason is still staring at the two of you from across the dining hall, ignoring Carl’s attempts at conversation, and it’s what propels Eddie to do what he does when you return from the bathroom. 

“I’m back!” you sing, sitting back down onto Eddie’s lap. You notice that Eddie's expression is now different, still sweet but something a bit sinister in his eyes, and it makes you tilt your head in confusion. “Anything happen while I’m gone?” 

Eddie looks at your face, brushing your cheeks with his left hand, whilst his right hand rests on your upper thigh. He thanks whatever gods are up there that you’ve chosen to wear his favorite black dress today, cinched in at the waist with a belt, the fabric soft and the length just above your knees. Placing the ice cream to the side, he brings your face down for a hungry kiss, the taste of chocolate and raspberry still lingering on your lips. The knowledge that the smug blonde asshole - Jason Carver - is watching with seething jealousy across the hall makes it all the more satisfying when you eagerly return the kiss, Eddie’s left hand raising to pull you in closer by your neck. 

After a few heated moments Eddie leans back and you let out a few breaths, frazzled and dazed at your boyfriend’s sudden affection. 

“I’m definitely not complaining but… what was that for, Eds?” 

Eddie decides not to give Jason the satisfaction of looking over at him, instead opting to lace his fingers with yours and gaze at you lovingly.

“Can’t I just kiss my beautiful girlfriend because I want to?” 

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

“And now, we have entered into the mystical lands of fa- Hello? Are any of you listening?” Eddie waves a hand in front of the freshmen boys' faces, noticing that their minds seem to be somewhere else. They sit there, unmoving, before Mike whispers something to Lucas, who in turn elbows Dustin.

“Right. Uh, we have a question for you. That's non D&D related.” he awkwardly starts to ask, causing Eddie to sigh.

“We’re in the middle of a campaign.” Eddie pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“We know, we know, but it’s important.” Dustin insists, and Eddie can’t help but comply: he does have a soft spot for these kids, after all.

“Alright then.” Eddie sits himself down on a spare plastic chair facing the kids. “What is it?” 

A moment of silence passes before Dustin blurts out the question that's been plaguging his and his friends' minds for the past few days.

“Can you give us tips on how to pick up girls?” 

The question makes Eddie laugh, his head thrown backwards as a loud laugh rips through his throat, before his smile is wiped off by the serious looks on the kids’ faces. 

“Oh, you’re being serious? Seriously? Why the hell would you ask me of all people that?” 

“Because we heard-” Mike starts, only to be shot a warning glare by Lucas that makes him shut up. That catches Eddie’s attention, pointing the end of his ruler to Mike.

“No. What is it? Speak.” 

“We heard that you’re dating (Y/n). Like, cheer co-captain and class president (Y/n).” 

The mention of your name makes his heart warm and it’s hard to fight off the smile from rising onto his face. 

“You heard right, Wheeler.” 

The boys’ eyes light up at the admission before they all start speaking at once, clearly excited.

“Wait, really? I thought it was just Hawkins gossip.” “I knew it! I called it beforehand, honestly.” “So that’s why we want to know how you did it!”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Eddie shakes his head sideways at the freshmen boys’ antics.

“Look kiddos, I’m flattered that you’d want my advice on dating but I really don’t have much to tell you.” 

Lucas groans at that.

“Oh, come on! There has to be something you said or did to land a girlfriend like (Y/n)! Tell us, please?” 

The conversation is then interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at the door, before the door swings open to reveal you smiling sheepishly behind it. On your left hand you’re holding what looks to be Eddie’s beloved roleplaying notebook as you walk over and kiss Eddie on the cheek. You quickly realize that you’ve walked in on a fully active campaign, turning to look at three young freshman boys practically gawking at the sight of you being affectionate with Eddie.

“Oh. Hi there. I’m-” 

“(Y/n) (L/n).” Dustin finishes for you, and you laugh. Eddie squints his eyes at the boys, clearly noticing the infatuation glazing over their eyes. It makes him pull you down onto his lap, resting his head on your shoulder as you laugh - you know that’s code for ‘I’m jealous, please give me attention.’ 

“That’s right. And you three must be-” 

“Dustin.” 

“Lucas.”

“Mike.”

The three of them seem to be really good friends, you note, almost in sync with the way they introduce themselves and fumble to straighten up their posture in your presence. It’s incredibly adorable, and you can easily see why Eddie is so protective and taken with them. 

“Nice to meet you all. I’m so sorry for interrupting your game, I just noticed that Eddie left this behind in PreCalc and wanted to return it to him-” 

“It’s fine, princess. Actually you have impeccable timing, because these three boys wanted to know how I managed to land myself a girl like you.” Eddie says, rubbing circles into your left palm.

You laugh at Eddie's comment, before you see that Dustin, Lucas and Mike have leaned over to hear your response, completely serious expression on their faces. 

“Oh. You guys genuinely want to know?” you're surprised.

The young boys all nod empathetically, and you casually look over at your boyfriend, who is smiling down at you mischievously.

“Well go on, baby. Tell them how I won a girl like you over.” 

“Okay. Um… Eddie didn’t really have to do anything to win me over. I fell for him because he's... him. He’s charming, kind and funny. He’s passionate about music and protecting his friends. He’s wholly and unapologetically himself in an environment that tries to sap any kind of authenticity from you. If anything, I don’t know how I was so lucky enough to land a boyfriend like Eddie.” you finish, looking back at the senior with a soft smile on your face. Eddie's secretly getting choked up at your kind words but masking it behind a boyish smirk, shifting you on his lap.

“Aw, all those nice things and you didn’t even mention my devilishly handsome looks!” he complains.

You roll your eyes at his antics before looking back at the three boys.

“Yes, that too. It helped that Eddie is a good looking man. There. You happy?” 

Eddie swears he can see the whole universe in your eyes. He never wants to stop looking into them.

“With you? Always.” 

The boys collectively groan in disgust when Eddie pulls you down for a swift kiss, with Lucas loudly yelling that he was going to throw up. Eddie tells them to shut up as you stifle a laugh, quickly getting up and re-adjusting the varsity jacket on your shoulder.

“I should get going. I slipped out of a student council meeting to come down here to give Eddie the notebook. Are we still on for tonight?” you ask Eddie, who nods in response.

“Of course.” 

The room’s still masked in stunned silence when you wave the boys goodbye and disappear into the hallway, the rest of the D&D game long forgotten in their minds. Eddie waves his hands in front of their faces again, exasperated at their lack of focus.

“Oi, freshmen! Can we get back to the game now?” 

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

Eddie swears the only quiet moments with you in this bustling, nosy town is in his bedroom. You’re laying against his chest, your body laying between his legs as he gently attempts you teach you the first few notes of his new song. Your skirt’s bunched up to your thighs and your frilly socks are rubbing against his bare legs, your cute giggles escaping every so often when he compliments you on getting a note right by kissing your face.

The sun’s started to set, bathing the trailer in red and orange glow, and he swears you look practically angelic in this light. Hair frayed around your face, your lower teeth biting your lips in concentration, your delicate fingers thrumming lightly against the guitar. With every shift against Eddie, your cardigan falls down to expose your shoulder and Eddie resists the urge to mark you up right then and there.

Noticing that he’s stopped instructing you on what to do, you stop playing, looking up at him with curiosity.

“Is something wrong?” 

God, Eddie thinks, the kids were right. He has no idea how he has landed someone like you. 

“Everything’s perfect, princess. Just… a lot of thoughts are in my head at the moment.” 

You frown at his response, setting the guitar to the side before pulling back to face Eddie.

“Is it about all the Hawkins students getting on your ass about us dating? I’m really sorry, I tried to do some gossip patrol today but people really like talking and drama and-” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” he assures you, placing two warm hands on your face. “I get why people talk. I mean me, Eddie Munson. Freak of the school, best known for supposedly devil worshipping and not being able to pass senior year. Getting to kiss and hold hands with you, miss co-captain and class president? Of course people would wanna talk."

Your expression softens at his admission.

“Well… you know what they say, opposites attract.” you tease, leaning forward to kiss him lightly. This time, your lips taste like cherry - he figures you must’ve been applying cherry chapstick whilst he was in the bathroom a few minutes ago. He’s hungry for more, never satisfied with just one kiss as he pulls you back onto him once more. 

“I guess they do.” 

The entire school doesn’t understand how you two are dating. Eddie isn’t quite sure why either. But he’s more than happy to let it be a mystery - so long as he gets to continue to hold onto you like this.

-> a/n: I hope we get to see a lot more from him in the show in vol 2 and onwards! Anyways, I really hope y'all enjoyed it: please let me know if you did and if you'd like me to write more in this fandom by liking/commenting/reblogging and what not.

❤️ Drink water, nourish your body and be kind to yourself today ❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fics #eddie munson #1k #2k #3k #4k #5k #6k

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: we vibing.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Jazlene comes to with a wispy sigh. You back up and stand as her mother helps her to her feet. The king is back at the table, unbothered by the overcome maiden. Lord Dustan hovers between, torn by loyalty to his liege and his family. New liege, that is. Only yesterday, he was toasting to good King Waleran. 

“My apologies, your highness,” Jazlene fans herself with her hand, “I was only surprised. I didn’t... How could I expect this? To marry a king?” She reaches down to grip her mother’s arm, shakily stepping forward towards the king who doesn’t even glance up from the table of maps, “I promise to you, your highness, I will be a good wife to you.” 

The king tilts his head, tracing a finger along a ridge of mountains, then leans in to examine the riverbeds below. Jazlene looks at her mother, an expression of concern on her pretty features. She is rarely ignored, if at all. She will make sure that she isn’t. 

“Lord Dustan, I expect the dowry will be served along with your men and my kingdom,” the king declares, “but now, I find myself fatigued. A hard day’s ride sees me in need of bath and a bed.” 

Dustan bows his head, “and so you will have it, your highness. I will send down for water--” 

“Have the maid see to it,” the king waves his hand vaguely in your direction, “certainly a servant is a servant.” 

“Yes, your highness, how wise,” Dustan simpers, as he often does to men with titles above his own. “You,” the duke turns and snaps his fingers, “you heard the king. He requires hot water in his chamber.” 

You keep your head down, “yes, my lord.” 

You spin without hesitation. You’re all too happy to be free of the noble intrigue. It is rather easier to be unseen and unthought of. It has ever kept you from envying these ladies and their silks and these lords and their golden signets. 

Your flight is fleet. You rush down the corridor and to the wide stairwell. You descend with your mission and pass Merinda as she paces listlessly outside the kitchens. She stops you with an arm across your path. 

“There are whispers,” she says lowly, “of who visits. Is it true?” 

You look at her. You don’t know if you should say. It isn’t her place and you don’t know what they say. There is rather much gossip in castles. 

“It is,” she hisses, “you don’t need to say it. You are a poor liar and when you say nothing, I know that is the reason.” 

Your lips pinch and you give her a look, “I have been sent to draw a bath.” 

“Oh, is the lady in need of her evening boil?” Merinda snickers. 

“Not her.” 

Merinda quiets and tilts her head, “...him?” 

“The king,” you answer thinly. 

She nods and steps closer, “is he... I don’t understand. His soldiers, they mill about with our own, they cavort together. Not as enemies. Are they not invading? Do they not mean to take the castle?” 

You tear your eyes away. She’s right, you are a poor liar. You lean in, lips right by her ear, you whisper, “Lord Dustan has new allegiances.” 

She claps her hand over her mouth as you back up. She stares at you with wide eyes. She slowly drops her arm and her lip quivers, “he means to get us all killed.” 

You push your shoulders up, “think only of today. It’s all we can do. Oh, do you know where the king’s chambers would be?” 

“Mm, they took his saddlebags to the ivory room. I think there,” she answers, “do you require assistance?” 

“Stay here,” you gird, “he is a brusque man.” 

That only seems to worry her more as her face twists. You can’t help but feel the same inside but you do your best not to let it show. You leave her and carry on to your task. 

You put the kitchen hands to boiling water and send a few others to find a tub to bring to the king’s chambers. You help where you can and take the first bucket up. You pour it into the large tub in the ivory room and return for second, a third, a forth, and fifth. There will be many more even as your arms ache and your nap slickens with sweat. 

Upon the eight, when the tub looks near halfway, the chamber is not empty. You’re surprised by the king’s presence as the door remains ajar. You pour the water with a low apology and diligent ‘your highness.’ He doesn’t respond. 

There is much to go still. Back down, up again, hot water splashing on your sleeves, singing beneath, dumping it over the edge as you keep your eyes on your work. Do not be more than a piece of furniture. You are only air. 

At the last bucket, you pour slowly, careful not to slosh over the edges. As you right the empty pail, you hear a metal chink. The king growls into a long exhale. You turn towards the door. 

“Close it,” he commands, “you will remain.” 

You’re happy he cannot see the look on your face. You obey and close the door. You turn back, standing by the pillar of the door frame, as you often do, and begin your vigil. It should not be unexpected that he may require you to fetch something further for him. 

Your eyes catch the bottom of his mail as he lifts it over his head. No, don’t look. He undresses, leather creaking, fabric rustling, pacing as he strips away each piece. You grip the rope handle of the bucket. He circles the long tub and nears you. You cower, bracing. You are not noticed, you are not approached, unless it is for rebuke. 

He grabs the bucket by the brim and tugs. You let it go. He turns and sets it on the floor away from you. You push your hands together, stilling a tremble. He wears only his breeches and you catch a glimpse of the thatch of hair along his thick stomach. You gulp and twine your fingers through each other. 

He turns away and crosses the room. You listen to the fabric fall from around his hips. Your eyes bore into the floorboards. The water shifts as he climbs into the tub and you listen to him groan as he lowers himself into the depths. The steam mingles with the tension of his silence. 

He sighs and stirs the water. The lull persists as you wait. He will need wine or food.  

“Come,” he bids and your eyes flick up. The tub conceals much of his lower body as his thick shoulders and arms stretch around the brim. “I have a knot.” 

You approach hesitantly, unsure where to aim your eyes the closer you get. He gestures around his head, “stand behind me.” 

You do as he tells you. 

He sits up slightly and bends his head forward, lifting his white hair out of the way, “here.” 

He points along the muscle beside his neck. It’s thick, just like all of him. You’ve never seen a man built like that. There are stringy barn boys and tubby cooks.  

You stare and raise a hand, hovering it over his muscle. Are you supposed to touch him? He is a king and you are a servant. You are a servant sold out of pig shit into servitude. 

His large hand reaches for yours and he guides it down. You shake before he lets you go. You feel the muscle, almost curious, and rub lightly. He makes a noise but you’re unsure of its tenor. 

“Harder,” he demands, “squeeze,” he shows his hand, making a kneading motion, “you cannot hurt me.” You do as he says. You squeeze and he rests his hand against the tub, “harder,” he repeats. 

You obey. 

His head hangs as his long strands touch the water. You bring your other hand up as your efforts make your tendons sore. He lets out shallow breaths and hissing groans. Your chest thumps at the sounds that rise from him. 

“Your master has broken his oath and sworn a new one to me. And you, does that make me your master as well? If I am your master’s master?” He asks slyly. 

You focus on your hands, “your highness?” 

“Answer, don’t be afraid. Liars bore me.” 

You sniff and mull your reply. You don’t know. You don’t have much of a choice in the matter. 

“Lord Dustan is my master. I am bound to serve him.” 

He snorts and lifts his head. You rescind your touch but he reaches back to latch onto your again. He tugs you forward, placing your hand back on his shoulder. 

“Softer now,” he instructs. You rub his damp flesh as he bends a leg, his knee poking above the water. “You, a servant, so low, and you are more loyal than any man with a title.” 

“Your highness, I must serve.” 

“As he must. Did he not swear himself to the old king? Eh? War does muddy the waters,” he muses, “coin does test old ties.” 

You say nothing. Your comment isn’t warranted or wanted. You know better. Jazlene taught you only to answer when asked. 

“Very well,” he taps your fingers, “I feel better. You have a kind touch.” 

You back away and wipe your hands on your apron. He hangs his head back and puffs. He closes his eyes. You watch the white waves made wilder by the humidity of the bath. 

“I hate sleeping in strange places,” he says, “you will stay for the eve.” 

You tuck your chin down and fold your hands together. Your scalp sweats beneath your cap, your shorn locks itchy with the heat. You wet your lips and force out the air trapped in your chest, “yes, your highness. As my master bid, I will serve you.” 

He says nothing more as he leans back against the tub completely. His large arms frame the metal and his hands wrap around the edges. He closes his shining eyes in recline, the water still and steaming. He stays that way until the damp heat dissipates. You stand locked in his thrall. 

He sits forward suddenly, the water stirring with his movement. He turns his hand and beckons with his thick fingers. 

“A bath sheet,” he demands. 

You go to the chest in the corner and open it. You retrieve a folded swath of fabric and bring it to him. He stands as you unfold the length of linen to obscure his form. Your eyes are on the ceiling as the water slakes from his figure and he looms large above you. 

He steps out, close to you, and puts his hands over yours. He pulls the sheet around his body, your arms too. He releases you only as he adjusts the fabric around his waist and you retract with humiliation nipping in your cheeks. You lean back on your heel as you shrink in his shadow. 

“Your highness, do you require refreshment? Wine? Sweetmeats?” 

“I did not ask for it,” he says, “I am tired.” 

“Apologies, your highness.” 

“Do not apologise for doing your duty. Would be a fairer world if more were so diligent.” 

He turns and strides away. There’s a knapsack and bedroll against the wall. He keeps one hand on the sheet and unbuckles the flap, reaching within and tugging out a bed shirt. He drops the sheet away and your eyes flit away from his nakedness. He has no shame but you are merely a servant. He shouldn’t care for your witness. 

He swipes the fabric over his head and it falls just to his thighs, concealing just enough to have him decent. His thick legs are trimmed in dark hair and the muscles are taut beneath his skin. He faces the bed and pulls back the quilt and linen. He pauses and looks up at you. 

“Will you sleep afoot then?” He wonders. 

“Your highness?” You wince. “I must...” you peer around, “empty the bath.” 

“Must you? Stagnant water can wait,” he insists. “Come.” 

You waver, skirts rippling around your legs. You step forward and stagger. 

“The lantern, your highness?” You inquire. 

“Douse the light if you will,” he allows. “And come.” 

You do as he bids and snuff out the flame. Your vision is left blackened and formless. You reach out blindly, realising your error too late. You can’t see much as you walk warily towards the bed. The heavy curtains are shut and block out the sliver of moonlight. 

Your knees hit the bed and you gasp. You catch yourself before you can fall forward, leaning against the mattress. You’re stuck like that, uncertain if you should go forward or back. Something wraps around your wrist, a stolid heat. 

“I often sleep with my horse,” the king says as he draws you onto the bed. “I need a warm body close.” 

You go rigid as you let him command your body. He guides you to lay down and tugs the bedclothes over you. The damp specks on your dress and apron cling to your skin. He leads your head over his thick arm as he lays on his back neck to you. You stare into the endless void of the canopy. 

“The horse smells much worse and snores,” he muses, his arm curling around your shoulders, offering a more comfortable rest for your head and neck. You quiver at being so close. It is an odd request but you daren’t decline it. “Be still,” his other hand comes to touch your sleeve, “and sleep. I only mean to ease my own unrest.” 

You close your eyes and exhale. Your heart is pounding and your body is tingling. You don’t think you can sleep with the surge flowing through you. He sighs and shifts slightly. You lay there, in silence, only the noise of his breath and yours to fill the castle walls. 

“I am awake,” he says. “Speak to me, maid. Tell me, where do you lay your head on nights where a king does not trouble you?” 

You wiggle slightly. Your spine is uncomfortable at the flatness but not worse than your usual fare. You bring your hand over your chest and fist your fingers tight. 

“On a bag of hay with Merinda,” you utter smally, pushing your legs together as you arch your back slightly. Your hips are tight. 

You’re startled as the bed jostles and he grips your hip. He rolls you onto your side, his touch lingers as he pulls you against him. He is as hot as a hearth. 

“Merinda?” He repeats. 

“Another handmaid, your highness.” 

He hums and drags his hand away from your hip. He blows out a great heavy and grunts. His arm curls around you snugly. 

“I hope I am preferable to that bag of hay,” he mutters and the tension seeps away from his form. “Though perhaps just as prickly.” 

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #winter's king #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au

[rubyreduji]

birthday presents for a tiger — ksy

summary: it’s your neighbor’s birthday, you decide to give him a gift

tags: smut (minors dni!), neighbors!au warnings: explicit unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, masturbation, praise, back scratching, creampie, reader calls soonyong tiger lol wc: 3.1k an: this trope has been done a million times, i do not give a shit this has been on my ideas list for months now so hap birth hosh

Ever since you moved into your town home you have been…intrigued with your neighbor, Kwon Soonyoung. (He introduced himself to you as ‘Hoshi’ and it took you almost two months to learn his real name).

On weekdays he gets up early and comes home late but on weekends he’s the life of the block. He has a good relationship with the people who live next to him—Seokmin on the right, Seungkwan on the left—and they can always be seen hanging out on their front porches. Besides those two, it seems that everyone likes Soonyoung and his friendly personality. You're included in that mix, but you can’t help but get easily annoyed at him as well.

You think his tiger paraphernalia is a bit of an eyesore and sometimes he can just get SO loud and you don’t even want to get started on his shameless flirting. From the day you two met, Soonyoung has tried to put the moves on you, laying the charm on thick and always coming up short. Sure, he’s an objectively good looking guy and you do admit he is quite charming at times, but you do not fold for men whose pick up lines consist of calling you his ‘tigress’.

The flirting isn’t always the worst though. He always compliments you, which is nice, and he never hesitates to jump to help you with anything you may need. You also get a good laugh out of it if you find one of his pick up lines particularly silly. Soonyoung’s face always lights up when you do laugh and you can’t help but find his chubby cheeks and squinted eyes adorable. 

Then there was that one time you got stood up for a date and Soonyoung found you sitting on the curb, all dressed up and alone, and offered to make you tea. You two sat in his kitchen the whole night talking and you realized that he really is a sweet guy. Those feelings went away the next day when he wolf-whistled at you across the street, but you know, it’s a nice memory.

You tend to find the man most infuriating on hot summer nights, when he’s outside sharing a beer with Seokmin and Seungkwan, and he’s in nothing but a tank top and a pair of loose sweatpants. You may not be falling for his tiger growling he thinks is flirting, but you have found yourself daydreaming about his large hands and his plump lips and his toned arms and his pretty hair and yeah, you find your neighbor incredibly hot, so what? His hotness is outweighed by the annoyed feeling you get when you see him parading it around. Yes he’s sexy, he doesn’t need to show it off to everyone, especially unsuspecting bystanders like you. It’s not good for your heart. Or your panties.

The only thing worse than his porch hangout outfits is the day he helped you put your groceries away after helping you bring them in from your car. Your kitchen isn’t huge so there was minimal space for you two to work around each other, bumping into each other every so often. Then, THEN, as you were putting a can in your pantry, you felt his strong, thick body press up against your back. A shudder ran down your back and it stayed there when you felt his breath on your neck.

“Sorry,” he said innocently, “I’m assuming this goes here?”

It took you a moment to realize he was holding a package of instant noodles, reaching for a shelf. You had to take a deep breath to calm yourself before telling him yes. He then put the noodles on the shelf and pulled away, leaving you disappointed, wanting to feel him up against you even more. Feel him inside of you. After he left you ran up to your room to shove your hands down your soaked panties, furiously rubbing your clit until you came with his name on your lips.

Ever since then you’ve been slightly avoiding Soonyoung, while also trying to catch glimpses of him out your window. Luckily, Soonyoung is a ‘windows open’ person and it’s not hard to see into his house from your bedroom window across the street. At some point you realized that stalking him isn’t going to fix your problem and that just maybe you have to admit you have a crush on him back. You can’t tell him that though, after shooting down his flirting for over a year now. If anything, you want to avoid him even more.

The world has a funny way of working though, and avoiding him becomes impossible when you receive his mail in your mailbox. It’s a cute blue envelope with a tiger doodled on the front and when you turn it over it’s addressed to Hoshi, no last name, just ‘Hoshi”. 

You can’t exactly put it into his mailbox because the mail boxes at your town home have locks on them which means you’re forced to give it to him in person. You quickly check your appearance before heading across the street to Soonyoung’s home. You knock on his front door and you wait for thirty seconds at most before the door is swinging open.

“Oh, Y/N. Hi. I haven’t seen you around recently, I was getting kind of worried to be honest.” Fuck that’s so sweet of him. Damn it, why is he so cute?

“You could have texted me, you have my number,” you say, a bit of a cool tone laced in your voice to try and push your thoughts down.

Soonyoung just chuckles. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind if you go MIA again. So, what brings you around? Do you want to come in? I can make some tea.”

“No, no, I just had to give you this.” You hold the envelope out. “It ended up in my mailbox.” 

“Oh, thank you!” Soonyoung takes the envelope and opens it right in front of you. “It’s my birthday card from my friend Jun!”

“I didn’t know it was your birthday. If I had known I could have baked you a cake or something.”

“Don’t worry, my birthday isn’t for another two days. You can wish me happy birthday then.” Soonyoung shoots a wink at you and you ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest.

“Yeah, okay. In two days then.”

Well no backing out now, you think as you hit send on the text. 

You: happy birthday soonyoung You: look out the window ;)

It doesn’t take long for Soonyoung to appear in his bedroom window, his jaw dropping and his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

You’re sitting on your bed in front of your own bedroom window in nothing but a set of lacy black lingerie and a sheer robe over it. You wave at Soonyoung and he shyly waves back, his eyes still trained to your partly exposed figure.

You pick up your phone and hit call on Soonyoung’s number and you see the man scramble to answer the call, nearly dropping his phone twice as he does. 

“H-hello?”

“Happy birthday Soonie.”

“I-” You see Soonyoung swallow, before running a hand through his hair. “Is this my present?”

“Yeah, do you like it?” You stand up from your bed so you can remove your robe, giving Soonyoung a show as you do. You trail your fingers over the garters hugging your thighs before trailing them up your leg to rest on the waistband of the panties.

“Yes. So much.” Soonyoung’s voice is already a little breathy and you can see his fingers resist the urge to palm himself through his pants. “Fuck Y/N. You look so pretty.”

“All for you, tiger.” The name slips off your tongue and Soonyoung is groaning instantly. “I can show you even more if you want?” Your reach around to unclasp your bra, holding it to your chest not to reveal anything just yet.

“Please. I want to see you. All of you. Have for a long time. I need it.” You figured Soonyoung would be whiney in bed, but you weren’t expecting him to be this whiney. If you’re being honest, it definitely turns you on even more. 

“Anything for the birthday boy.” You drop your arms, your bra falling with them. Your tits spill out into the open and Soonyoung whimpers on the other end of the call. You shake your chest a bit to tease Soonyoung even more and he finally lets his resolve go, reaching down to palm at his already half hard cock.

You chuckle as you watch him rub himself, staring at your chest. You reach up and squeeze your tits, pushing them together before letting them go, allowing them to bounce back in place. It doesn’t take long for Soonyoung to discard his pants, pushing them to the floor. 

While Soonyoung is hastily stripping you move to your bed, kneeling on the mattress with your thighs spread to give Soonyoung a view of what’s between them. You reach down and start to rub yourself there, two fingers against your clit. The rough lace of your panties feels nice against the sensitive bud and it doesn’t take long for the fabric to be thoroughly soaked with your juices.

“I’m so wet Soonyoung,” you say. You pull your panties to the side so you can show off your dripping cunt.

“Holy shit,” Soonyoung wheezes out. “Y/N your pussy is so pretty. Wanna taste it.”

“Aww, Soonie, do you wanna eat my cunt? Taste my arousal all over your tongue?” You dip your fingers down into your pussy, spreading your slick over your folds. You bring your fingertips back to your clit, rubbing there again. You know that this is all for Soonyoug, but you have needs too, and you need some kind of friction to soothe the ache in your cunt.

Across the street Soonyoung is shoving his hand down his boxers before pulling his cock out from the waistband. You lick your lips at the sight. His tip is an angry red color and while his length looks average, his cock is fat and you want to feel how heavy it is against your tongue. You wonder if he would be down to 69 so you get the best of both worlds. 

Your fingers work at your clit faster, needing to find your release soon or else you’ll go crazy. You can feel your cunt get wetter and wetter as you touch yourself. When you look out your window it’s clear that Soonyoung isn’t doing much better. His fist is pumping his cock fast and rough and you can hear his moans through your phone speaker.

The sight pulls a moan from your own lips. You decide at that moment you need Soonyoung in you more than anything.

“Soonyoung,” you mewl out. “Please come fuck me. I need it. Spare key is under the planter on my porch. Please.”

At your words Soonyoung is quickly shoving his dick back into his boxers and pulling his pants back on. He’s out of sight within seconds and it barely takes him a minute to be throwing your bedroom door open. You’ve moved so you’re laying back in the bed and Soonyoung quickly sheds his pants again before crawling over your body.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you,” Soonyoung mutters before crashing his lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down even more so his body rests on top of yours. You can feel his cock rub up against you through his boxers and you cant your hips up to gain even more friction.

Soonyoung’s lips move against yours messily but neither of you care, too frantic to make the moment tender. You feel his tongue slip between your lips, hot and wet, and you allow him to explore your mouth. He doesn’t stay there long, too desperate to get his mouth on other parts of your body.

Soonyoung trails wet kisses down your neck to your tits where he sucks on into his mouth, his tongue running around your nipple. His hands continue to move down your body until one drags against your slit and you gasp loudly, bucking your hips into his touch. 

“Ah, Soonie, please.” You tug at his hair to get his attention. He pops his mouth off your tit and looks up at you with wide eyes, panting a bit.

“Baby?” The nickname has you groaning and you never want him to call you anything different.

“I need you to fuck me, tiger. Right now.”

Soonyoung nods, now determined to make your wishes come true. He quickly sheds the rest of his clothes before tearing your panties down your legs and throwing them behind his back onto the floor. You can see the way his eyes linger on your cunt for a second and you know he wants to dive in and have a meal, but he stops himself, moving to line himself up to your entrance.

His tip rubs at your slit for a moment, teasing your folds, before he finally pushes in. You let out a long, deep moan as you feel his thick cock stretch out your walls and bury itself in you balls deep. Your walls squeeze him tight and Soonyoung looks like he’s also struggling not to cum on the spot.

He allows both of you time to adjust before he pulls his hips back so just his tip is in you, only to slam right back into you. You throw your head back, your back arching away from the mattress. Soonyoung leans down again to kiss at your chest. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you tight so he can continue to pound into your velvety heat.

“Shit baby, I knew you would feel amazing, but this is heaven,” Soonyoung mumbles against your chest. “God you look so pretty like this, speared on my cock as I fuck you open.” He moves his mouth up to your neck, burying his face there. Just like that day back in your kitchen, you feel his hot breath on your neck, and it still sheds shivers down your spine. Only this time, you don’t have to get yourself off to relieve the ache in your core.

You bring your hands up to claw at Soonyoung’s back, digging your nails into his skin. You know you’re going to leave marks, and you file the thought of how hot you find that away for later. You can feel your lower stomach tense, signaling you’re close to your orgasm.

You wrap your legs around Soonyoung’s hips, pulling him into you farther. Soonyoung’s tongue is licking long stripes up your neck in between sucking at the skin and your skin tingles at the way you can feel him all over (and in) you. 

“Tiger,” you pant out, “so close.”

“Me too,” Soonyoung mumbles. “Where do I-”

“Inside. Cum inside me Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung growls, full on rumbles in your ear before his hips speed up their pace, fucking you even harder than before. You reach down between your bodies to rapidly rub at your clit and it only takes a few more seconds for you to completely let go, your legs tightening around Soonyoung as your clenches down.

Soonyoung’s teeth bite down on your shoulder, blood rushing to the surface of the skin, as his hips slow down, his slit pouring his thick, white cum into your cunt. When he pulls out of you, you can feel his cum slide out of you as well and onto your mattress.

Your pussy feels empty without him and you want him in you again instantly. You tell him so and Soonyoung is quick to turn you over, pulling your ass into the air. His still hard cock rubs against your ass cheeks a few times before he’s pushing into you once more.

The thirst in your mind and in your pussy is quenched at the feeling of him filling you up again. You wiggle your ass against him a bit to get him to move and Soonyoung lets out a soft laugh before starting to roll his hips in and out of you. His large hands envelope your ass cheeks, palming at the fat there. The combination of his cock brushing against your g-spot and his hands kneading your ass has your mind fogged with a pleasant hum and you feel content to do this all day.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, seems to have other plans in mind, wanting to get both of you to orgasm again. His hips snap into yours at a quick pace and your mind is so distracted with the pleasure you’re feeling you nearly forget to breathe. 

You feel Soonyoung trail his hand down your back, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You bury your body further into the mattress, your back bending even more as you press your front down and your ass up. 

“You’re so good to me,” Soonyoung huffs between grunt, “best birthday present in a while.”

“Tiger, Soonie, you feel so good in me. Love your cock,” you babble, not completely coherent. Nobody can blame you though, not with the way Soonyoung keeps rutting his cock into you so his tip hits your sweet spot over and over again.

“Shit,” Soonyoung whines, “gonna cum again.” 

You know it hasn’t been long since Soonyoung started fucking you again, but if you’re being honest you’re close as well. Soonyoung reaches around your body to play with your clit, abusing the nub with his harsh rubs. You can’t do much other than clench down and let out labored breaths. It seems to be enough for Soonyoung though because his fingers slow down as you feel his hips stop moving as well. Soonyoung seems to realize his fingers have lessened in pace and he quickly goes back to frantically trying to get you off as he’s still cumming in you. You’re not sure how he can cum more than he did previously, but you’re not complaining, enjoying the full feeling he’s leaving in your cunt.

The feeling of his cum sitting in your pussy has your body shaking, your walls fluttering as you reach your peak. You mewl out Soonyoung’s name as your muscles give out, your body slumping to the bed. Soonyoung pulls his cock from you and flops down next to you, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he catches his breath.

“I- thank you,” Soonyoung says and you laugh slightly. “I’m not joking, that was like the best birthday present ever.”

You move so you can nuzzle your head against Soonyoung’s shoulder, pressing a kiss there. “So you don’t want the cake I baked you earlier?”

You feel Soonyoung’s chest rumble as he giggles. “How about we eat the cake, and then I eat you out after?”

You smile. “I don’t think my presents can get any better than that.”

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @synthetickitsune @chwecardcaptor @candidupped @dreamhannies @d0nghyck @niyizh @baldi-2 @wolfgurl2600-blog @spilled-coffee-cup @sulkygyu @enhacolor @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @x-veex @namjoonbaby @ovai @belladaises @todorokiskitten @jihoonliker @valentxi @0717luv @yeosayang @98-0603 @miriamxsworld @morklee02 @luvv4svt @tinkerbell460 @toruro @lllucere @niktwazny303 @im-gemmy @wonchansbrooklynn @wujihoons @prpldahy @ami-ioi @iwannabangchan

join my taglist: here!

#hoshi #kwon soonyoung #hoshi smut #hoshi fanfic #hoshi x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop #rru.fics #rru.writes #★ mdni

[romanarose]

Triple Frontier Write-A-Thon

Hosted by @romanarose and @for-a-longlongtime

Hello everyone! March 13th of this year is the 5 year anniversary of Triple Frontier, a movie that was underrated but very precious to all of us. To me, it is a comfort movie and something that through fics and fandom has helped me process a lot of things. 

Charlie Hunnam announced recently that there is potential for a sequel and he is trying to get it in production and has signed on as a producer. Me and @for-a-longlongtime want to both drum up a little noise and celebrate this media we all love so much!

How it works

Write a fanfiction of Triple Frontier, following the content rules listed below. This is for both art and fanfiction. We encourage you to utilize twitter or instagram if you’d like to share either, and #triplefrontier or #triplefrontier2019 on any site you post on. If you don’t want to make art or write, we encourage you to use social media platforms with the hashtags to help make some noise.

We are highly encouraging LGBT themes and for you to think outside of x f!reader. 

All fics that fall under the rules are encouraged, so if you write Santiago Garcia x afab!f!reader, that’s great! But we’d like to take this time to encourage gay/bi pairings, trans readers, or even trans interpretations of the boys. Branch out!

When you post, tag @triplefrontier-anniversary on tumblr and we will reblog it there. We also may reblog onto our main, so consider tagging one or both of us so we know what’s up! Please follow that page to see what other people are writing! In the tags, please tag it triple frontier write a thon, just to make everything easily found.

If you want to post art that tumblr doesn’t allow like nude art, link the content in a tumblr post, like a twitter link, and we’ll reblog that!

If you exclusively write on ao3 or wattpad or other, you can either make a link on a tumblr post and tag us. Other option is to message me (RomanaRose) privately and I’ll make a post and link you and reblog it to the page.

Rules

We will run from March 1st to March 14th. Fics and art posted before or after will not be counted.

This is not a dark event, sorry! Some of us enjoy dark content but wanted to keep this particular event mostly non-dark. That being said, we will allow dub con in the context of mild alcohol use, power dynamics etc. Kidnapping/arranged marriage etc is fine as long as consent is given for anything sexual. Mostly we are looking to avoid non-con/violence. If you have questions, don’t be afraid to reach out to us!

All participants must be 18+, although smut is not required

No incest, including Millercest. None of the usual ‘no’s’, such as underage content apply in addition to no dark.

We have the right to exclude any fic that makes us uncomfortable. It’s our event.

However, we will NOT be excluding people for personal biases, unless it encroaches on our boundaries. I.E. If we have you blocked, please don’t try to enter the event. However, if we’ve had petty beefs or you and one of our mutuals don’t like each other, we generally will include your work. This event is to promote Triple Frontier, not about us.

LGBT themes are highly encouraged, not required.

Tom is allowed. We’re not gonna tell you not to include him if that’s what your little heart desires. However, we highly encourage that your work includes at least one of the usual 4

Leave me alone I love Arrested Development, RIP Carl Weathers.

We hope everyone has fun and this drums up more Triple Frontier fics, in which we are severely lacking!

Remember to reblog and comment to support artists!

Please come to us with any questions!

#triple frontier #santiago garcia #will miller #william miller #triple frontier fanfic #benny miller #ben miller #frankie morales #frankie friday #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #fishben #ironpope #benjamin miller #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #male reader #x reader

[luxaofhesperides]

For the ghostlights drabbles!! Slow dancing + aged up? Maybe it’s their wedding, maybe they’re just having a slow night, maybe it’s an all-Wayne’s-must-show-up gala event and Danny tagged along but I’m just thinkin like. Older Danny and Duke so in love with each other everything else just. Fades away

Danny’s been fidgeting all day. 

He can’t help it, being so full of restless energy that he has to keep moving somehow. It’s enough to be noticeable, and though Duke gave him a curious look, he didn’t push when Danny insisted he was fine. 

It’s just that he’s hyper-aware of the small box tucked away in his pocket. And judging by the excited, gleeful looks on the other Bats faces when he had lunch with them, they are also aware of his plans to propose. He just hopes Duke doesn’t have his suspicions so he can surprise his boyfriend properly.

Throughout their walk through Robinson Park, as Duke had wanted for their weekly date, Danny keeps brushing his hand against his pocket, thoughts drifting as he wonders when he should ask, how everyone would react, how difficult wedding planning would be…

“Seriously, are you okay?” Duke asks, pulling Danny to the side where a few trees hide them from view. “You’ve been distracted all day.”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. Really.”

“Sweetheart, you know you can tell me anything.”

Danny looks at him, takes in the sincerity of his words, the softness in his gaze, and smiles. He can’t help but pull Duke closer by his collar, leaning down a bit to kiss him. “I know,” he whispers against Duke’s lips. “I promise everything’s fine.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“It’s a secret,” Danny says, a giddy grin spreading across his face. “But I’ll tell you soon. Very, very soon.”

Duke looks into his eyes, gauging how honest he’s being, then nods. “Alright. Take all the time you need, honey. I can wait forever for you.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Danny’s mouth, then pulls away, taking hold of Danny’s hand. “Ready to head back home?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” Danny squeezes Duke’s hand and follows after him as he begins walking, wondering how he got so lucky with the sweetest, bravest, most considerate person to be his boyfriend. And more, hopefully. He really wants to keep Duke forever. He wants Duke to keep him, too.

He considers proposing right then and there, too full of nerves to survive keeping it secret for another few hours, but the park isn’t empty and he knows Duke wants something more private. So he lets Duke lead them home, their steps falling in sync as they make their way to the streets. 

Gotham is as busy as ever, full of noise and people as everyone goes about their day, trying to get from this place to that. But with Duke, everything feels quiet, as if the rest of the world can’t touch them when they’re together. He rarely ever feels so comfortable in silence, but like in most matters, Duke is the exception.

Danny swings their hands between them as they walk the few blocks to their apartment, heart filled with so much love he doesn’t know what to do with himself. So much has changed over the years; Danny is barely recognizable as the fourteen year old who just had a lab accident and took on the responsibility of protecting Amity Park. He was smaller, then, and struggling to figure out a way forward when everything seemed determined to ruin him. 

At some points, he didn’t think he had much a future at all. His parents had found out that he was Phantom, and rather than attacking him, they were heartbroken to know that he had died so young and they never noticed. His parents have never stopped seeing him as a dead kid since, always grieving him and too guilty to really see who he is now. He hopes inviting them to the wedding won’t be a mistake, because he does want them there so they can see how happy he is. 

He can hardly believe that it’s been nearly eight years since he met Duke. They had gotten together after being friends for a year, working together to handle any ghosts who needed help or were causing trouble in Gotham, and helped each other through college and getting their first jobs. 

Duke has been with him for most of his happiest memories. He had been by his side through so many milestones and and quiet moments. 

If there’s a life for him without Duke, he doesn’t want to live it.

So overwhelmed by his feelings, Danny can’t help but cling to Duke, wrapping him up in a hug as soon as they step into the elevator of their apartment building. Duke doesn’t ask any questions, just holds him gently and helps walk him to their door, making sure he doesn’t trip. 

Danny hears the key slide into the lock. The door opens a moment later, and then Duke is slipping out of his arms, kneeling to help Danny out of his shoes at the entryway. 

It’s little things like this that make Danny feel like his heart is going to burst. Duke loves in such quiet, gentle actions. 

“I’m going to go change real quick,” Duke says as he takes off his own shoes. “What do you want for dinner?”

“We have garlic soy sauce pasta in the freezer.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He heads off to their bedroom, already stripping out of his shirt to change into more comfortable clothing, which tends to be either sweatpants or pajamas. Danny goes to the kitchen, pulling the pasta bag out of the freeze and setting it on the counter to thaw a bit. 

He bites his lip, thinking, then pulls out his phone and texts Barbara.

caspar: hey babs, are there any cameras in our apartment that you can hack?

big brother: Only at the front door and windows. Why?

caspar: can you hack my phone and record a video for me? i’m going to propose to duke tonight

big brother: Danny! Yes of course I can!! 

caspar: thanks babs :) pls also send it out to everyone else tomorrow so we can have a quiet night in

big brother: You got it Danny. Can’t wait to share the news!! Go ahead and get your phone in a good place and I’ll be ready to start recording.

Danny sends her a quick thumbs up emoji, then glances around to find the perfect spot that wouldn’t look too suspicious. He settles on the dining table, which looks into the kitchen. The island isn’t in the way, thankfully, so as long as Danny stays in front of the counters that are in the camera’s sight, he should be able to get a good video of the proposal to send to everyone. 

Besides, he knows Duke loves collecting memories like these in every way he can. And while Danny considered asking Tim to stalk them with his camera to get good proposal photos, that would have meant proposing outside to ensure he got a good shot and Duke has never been into public proposals. 

He’s just set his phone up when Duke reappears, wearing gray sweatpants and a large dark blue sweater, knit by Jason a few years ago. 

He looks so soft and comfortable that Danny can’t be blamed for falling onto Duke for another hug, burying his face in his shoulder. 

“Hey, there, honey,” Duke laughs. “You sure you’re feeling alright? You’ve been really clingy today. Not that I mind, or anything.”

Danny nods. “I just really love you.”

Duke kisses his temple, and Danny can feel his smile against his skin. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

“Dance with me?”

“Alright.”

They start to sway softly together, just moving side to side, then Duke brings out his phone to play a few quiet songs from one of their many playlists. He recognizes the song as coming from their ‘heart to heart’ playlist, because they very much are that cheesy couple that make playlists for each other and for every occasion. This one is for quiet nights together, full of soft love songs and ballads. 

With music to guide them, they start moving more, pulling apart to properly dance. They twirl in small circles, still swaying slowly as they dance, just happy to be together. 

Danny sinks into the comfort of this quiet joy, slow dancing in the kitchen with Duke for a few songs. He’s already looking forward to dancing together at their wedding.

Duke pulls up his hand to lead Danny in a spin, and Danny returns the favor.

Just as Duke begins to turn back around, Danny takes out the ring box from his pocket with his free hand and drops to one knee.

Duke completes his spin, smiling softly, then freezes when he sees Danny kneeling. 

“Duke,” Danny begins, and then Duke lets out a startled laugh, grinning wildly.

“Wait!” he says, “Wait, I can’t believe this. Do not move, Danny, I swear—” And then he’s turning and rushing away. Danny watches him, confused and just a little hurt, wondering what’s going on as he watches Duke move a few knick knacks on their shelf aside. He hides something in his hands, then returns to Danny and also drops to one knee.

He opens his hands to reveal a ring box. “I was going to propose later tonight,” he says, laughter in his voice, “But you beat me to it!”

Danny grins, elated, all but tackles Duke in a hug. “Oh my God,” he laughs, “I love you so much. More than anything.”

“I love you so, so much. Give me my ring, I can’t wait to marry you.”

Smiling so hard it hurts, Danny slips the ring onto Duke’s finger. Duke does the same for him, then lifts Danny’s hand to place a kiss against his knuckles. “I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

“And I’ll love you beyond the rest of mine.”

He cups the back of Duke’s neck and kisses him sweetly. It doesn’t last long when neither of them can stop smiling, laughing together breathlessly.

“Come on,” Duke says, pulling Danny up to his feet. “I want to practice for our wedding dance.”

And Danny follows his lead, falling back into step with him, twirling slowly through the kitchen. He already can’t wait to be married to Duke.

. . .

[send me ghostlights prompts!]

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #they are so in love here!! as they should be :) #the slow dancing doesnt take up much of this fic but hopefully the cuteness of them makes up for it #the bats and dannys friends + jazz are absolutely going to lose their minds once babs sends the video out #and then it spreads around and by the time they get to wedding planning the entire justice league and the titans and a bunch of ghosts #want to be invited and are doing all they can to be on the guest list. bribes are involved. people are going ALL OUT #there is indeed a few physical fights over who gets to be best man/woman and in the wedding party

[coupleoffanfics]

Part 2- y/n becomes a child

Part 1 Here

She seems to be a big fan of cats. Anything with Hello Kitty on it she wants. Will run up to stray cats trying to pet them no matter how many times they tell her not to. “They could have a disease.” “But they’re so cute!”

Doesn’t fully understand when she says, “I’m looking for my parents. We’re playing hide and seek, I don’t really like playing it. I wanted played sequence. My dad must have helped my mom with her hiding spot because I can usually find her first. Once I find them we’ll go back home to my baby and older brother.”

Hearing this Damian goes to Bruce for answers. He knows of everyone’s upbringing, but he often overlooked y/n in the past. Something about her mentally blocking her parents' death. Bruce only says parents, so it makes him wonder whether or not…It doesn’t matter. He just makes sure that he won’t bring up her parents or try to convince her that Bruce was her father anymore. Or that he and the others were her real brothers.

Dick will bring y/n to the water park, zoo, etc for some bonding time. Trying to dethrone Jason’s spot of being her favorite. When going out this usually results in Damian tagging along. Though surprisingly y/n doesn’t like going out as much, so Dick tries to find another way to connect with her.

It's getting late and while in her pajamas jumps down each step of the stairs. Dick notices the book in her hand and offers to read it to her before bed. Look him straight in his eyes to say no and ask if he knew where Jason was.

He lied by saying that he already left even though he was down in the cave and he’ll just take Jason’s place as bedtime reader. She reluctantly agreed. Everything is fine until the story ends. She looks like she is going to burst into tears and he panics. The story didn’t have a sad ending or anything. It was just a frog and toad book.

Asking what was wrong, y/n looks at him. “They’re gone and they’re never coming back are they?” He doesn’t respond, the look of pity in his eyes was enough for her to start balling her eyes out. Crying for her parents. When he is going to get up to get Bruce she eminently freaks out.

“No! Please don’t leave. I don’t want to be left alone. Don’t leave me alone again!” Dick gets so emotional seeing his little sister desperately begging him to not be all alone. He stays behind and comforts her. Not leaving her side once.

The context of how they unintentionally neglected her when she got older made guilt build up.

After that y/n is more open with Dick and starts to follow him around a bit. Jason raises his eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Dick would be a better influence than him regardless of how bitter it made him feel.

Tim doesn’t go out of his way to interact with little y/n. Though she does come up to him to share what food she has. She will not leave him alone unless he has some of her snacks. Reminding him of when she was done cooking/baking, she’d force him to take a taste test before anyone else.

She’ll go out into the garden to catch butterflies. Will not take a net no matter how many times it's offered. Damian sits back watching her as she creeps up on butterflies like a cat. Every time she goes up to him and asks if he knew what butterfly it is.

Doesn’t have a clue, but after that, he’ll look up all the different butterflies. Their names and small facts about them for next time. y/n inadvertently made Damian a butterfly wiki.

There will be sudden fits where she wants to paint someone’s nails. Goes up to the first person she’ll see. Place the Hello Kitty nail polish bag on the table and ask them, “What color do you want? Sparkly or no sparkle?” There isn't anyone that can say no.

So everyone in the manor will have painted nails. Bruce is in a business meeting, everyone sees his black-painted nails but doesn’t say a thing. If anyone were to ask he’d hold up a hand to show off and explain that his daughter wanted to paint his nails. He is expressionless the whole time, but if they looked hard enough then they could see the smile in his eyes.

Babs and Dick definitely take a few photos of y/n and send them to each other. It’s not every day that adult y/n allows others to photograph her. Now that she is a child without too many insecurities this allows them to take as many photos as possible.

Speaking of Babs, she’s just like Tim and Bruce. Doesn’t go out of her way to interact with her because she doesn't see the reason to do so. It’s fine after a few days until she starts missing adult y/n. The one who brings up random topics and has late-night texts with.

Wonders if she should inform y/n’s friend and boyfriend about this since they’ve been reaching out a lot. But decided against it. y/n is in a vulnerable state of mind and having even more “strangers” interact with her should just be avoided. Barb tells them that she’s broken her phone and is taking care of her sick auntie who is overseas. She makes up an elaborate lie and now y/n’s friend and boyfriend think she has an Italian auntie named Bianca Bellagamba.

One day Dick gets a drawing that he’s always dreamed of. A crayon drawing of his hero persona that had My #1 hearo! Everyone can see him internally squealing.

Everyone got a similar drawing, but she handed his drawing to him first. So obviously he’s the favorite brother and she clearly put more effort into his drawing.

Only Dick and Damian have thought of sabotaging the progress of returning y/n back to normal a few times. They’d be able to keep her in the manor safe and be able to rewrite their mistakes. Jason has thought of this too once, but he knew that it wasn’t right for y/n if they kept her like this.

The only reason Dick and Damian didn’t do anything as everyone was dead set on getting adult y/n back. Even if they were to sabotage their progress, it would just slow them down.

When y/n is turned back to normal she doesn’t remember anything after she was turned into a child. This breaks Dick’s heart more than it does Damian’s. Dick was making so much progress with y/n and now it's completely erased. Damian took this more as a way to understand and learn more about y/n.

y/n awkwardly thanks them before shuffling out manor. Babs will send the pics of little y/n to her later.

Most of the family’s view of y/n doesn’t change except for Dick and to a lesser extent Jason’s. Dick will see y/n even more as a child now. That one night when she begged to not be left alone again will motivate him to reach out to her. Spend more time together to make up for his absence.

Jason might view her a little more like a child, but he already saw her as one. Though this whole fiasco has made him a bit more protective of y/n. When out, he’ll check on her apartment just to make sure that she’s safe at home. If he finds her out for whatever reason when he’s on patrol then he’ll follow her until she gets back home safely.

Damian knows that little and older y/n aren’t exactly the same. It would be stupid to do so because she could grow out of things and has developed as a person. When he breaks into her apartment for a visit he’ll have a type of Hello Kitty memorabilia. y/n clearly hasn’t grown out of her love for the cat with a bow as the next time he breaks in, he sees that she kept the gift.

[kangen-wanshi]

Good morning! My request for the followers event is “for once, please, let me protect you” with Sebek from Twisted Wonderland. Thank you!

Promise ft. Sebek Zigvolt

He made a promise to you after an unpleasant incident that nearly cost you your life.

Tags: sfw, reader suffered an injury, mention of bullying, has a possessive undertone if you squint a little bit, reader getting called stupid (affectionately), no gendered reference

300 followers prompt events! Ongoing until 11th June 2023

Sebek had never run so quickly in his life. When he heard that you had been sent to the infirmary, he made haste to find you in an instant at that very moment, apologizing to Malleus - The Malleus Draconia that he adorned so much with his life - that he didn’t really have the time to hear the full explanation from Jack about the why you’re there in the first place.

Sebek loves his young Master, but if he was made aware that you, a human, one that he swore to protect too, have come to harm right when he’s around the corner, he could never bring his face up to the dragonic Fae.

When he barged into the infirmary it didn't take long to spot which space you occupy in. Ace sitting with his back turned towards the door, blocking you from his sight, followed by Deuce who stood by the end of your bed. The latter spotted Sebek’s sudden yet expected visit, as he immediately tugged on the red head’s arm, and encouraged him to leave your side for a brief moment to give the Diasomnia student a time with you.

Ace opened his mouth in protest - but when he made eye contact with Sebek, and see an unrecognizable expression of guilt, he shut his mouth, sighed, muttering about how ridiculous this situation is, before picking up Grim ,who had fallen asleep from excessive worrying, from the bed and stormed out of the room with Deuce following suit.

Before he left, Sebek’s gloved hand had halted him by the shoulder. He didn’t even utter a single word for his question to transpire: What happened.

Deuce knitted his brows, scowl on his face as he turned away from Sebek, “Some seniors were picking on the Prefect during our flight lesson,” he confessed, spits of venom splattered across his words, “They casted a long-ranged spell from behind the woods - the Prefect was up in the air and-”

“Thank you, Deuce.” Those were enough. He thought. He doesn’t need to hear more of it. Had Deuce continued with his story, Sebek would’ve immediately switched his destination to wherever these ‘seniors’ are, to act out on his own justice over your safety. But no, not now. He wanted to keep his rage and focus on you.

So Deuce left, giving Sebek - and you - one last look before leaving the infirmary to follow Ace and the furry little member of their group.

You had watched their little interaction from where you sat up on the bed. A small, pitiful and tired smile on your face as you gaze up to Sebek. Such a simple sight of your smile would send him to the moon - but not now. With how bandages are wrapped around your head and scratches all over your skin and your uniform, Sebek couldn’t focus on your beauty and charm, rather, he couldn’t help but clench his knuckles white.

“Sebek -”

“What happened?”

“O- oh, uh, some upperclassmen were just.. Feeling like practicing long ranged spells when we’re around to practice, I suppose..” You lowered your gaze, “Uh, Jade said he’d take care of them, so-”

“What happened?” Sebek pressed on. He knows you’re hesitating with your answer. You’ve been in this campus for long, you’ve gained friends, you've gained foes, but with each powerful allies you’ve gained - such as his young master - everyone on campus should know not to mess with the magicless Prefect of Ramshackle if they wish to graduate alive.

Something else happened.

You hesitated. But he knew that look in your eyes, you’re processing your thoughts. When you bite your lips, fiddling with the fabric of your shirt, shifting your gaze away from him. So he let you think, he let you take your time, if he knew anything, is that you have a reason for everything you do.

So you finally admitted, your pitiful and pained look now shifted to something akin to his - rage.

“They were mocking you.” You confessed, “They called you obnoxious,” you added, “Annoying,” and you added, “A painful thorn on the side,” and you added, “And-”

At this point, your knuckles turned white from clutching the sheet. 

“- I had to give them a piece of my mind.”

“Did you-” You cut him off with a snicker, “Some seniors they are, couldn’t even fight me right in front of my face, huh?” The first time you looked up to him, with your bruised lips, you gave him a prideful grin, “Couldn’t even beat a little magicless me! Even without Grimm’s help I can beat ‘em easily. Some senior-ass they are.”

Ah. He recalled it now. Just a few days ago, he saw you all covered in dust and scratches. You admitted that you just came face to face with a bully and won, and he let it slide because you came out unscathed due to your victory.

But look how it turned out. They came back - and they came back worse. All because you were-

“- You were.. Defending me?” The insults you had sputtered out about him said by others went past his head, his eyes widened as he stared at your grinning face, “Why? For something so small such as that you shouldn’t have - How stupid can you be?!”

Sebek snapped, raising his voice in an instant when the reason behind your action finally registered in his mind, “When will you realize how truly weak you are?! You’re just a human, a magicless one at that, and yet you’re so recklessly going to seek trouble for something so fleeting such as an insult?! Even one that isn't directed towards you?! Why would you-”

“It’s not stupid!” You snapped back, flinching when your sore cheek stabbed your flesh with sting, which, dragged Sebek back to the reality of your condition as he visibly flinched.

“You’re important to me.” You continued, now with a whisper loud enough for him to hear, “Way too damn important for me to let some - scrawny senior wannabes insult you like that. And if you know anything about me which, I’m sure you’re fully aware of,” You scoffed at his dumbfounded silence, “You know I’m stubborn about insults.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. You are, in fact, stupid in his eyes. To fight off seniors who may be skilled in magic casting, all over insults that were directed towards him. Ridiculous. Reckless. You-

-And he broke down. A heavy, long exhale escaped past his lips as he squatted down next to your bed. His gloved hands are buried in his hair, his head lowered to face the floor beneath him. He couldn’t deal with you. You’re way too much for him. Too strong, too stubborn, yet too vulnerable to be left fighting alone all on your own. And he couldn’t leave you be. Not when you fight so hard for his sake.

“Please,” he pleaded, “Don’t ever do such a thing, ever again.”

You parted your lips, ready to argue with him once more, before his hands snapped up and grabbed yours gently, yet firmly, holding it securely within his own.

“At least, let me be by your side when you decide to do anything reckless like such,” he made eye contact with you. Now, with pleas in his eyes, concern, and devotion. One that you’d expect to see when he speaks about his young master.

“I couldn’t-” he paused, letting himself breathe between his words, “You’ve done so much. Too much. I couldn’t let you suffer from such minor inconvenience caused by scoundrels who couldn’t even see where they stood.”

“So please, for once, let me be the one who protects you.”

“Have you perhaps forgotten that I’m a knight, human?” he managed to slip in some humor and a chuckle, “I would be driven to shame beyond Sevens’ comprehension if I couldn’t even protect the one I hold dear. How would I protect the young master if I couldn’t even protect you?”

There he is. Beyond his anger, his plot of revenge, and his adoration for you, he managed to slip in some smile to entertain you and your giggles. Pulling your hand up towards his face, he planted a firm kiss to your bandaged knuckles, down to your fingers, and towards your delicate palms.

Yes. He won’t let you be dressed in such a manner anymore. No more bandages over your skin, no more bruises around your beautiful face. This time, he will be the one covered in others suffering for your sake.

After all, he promised to protect you, and Sebek’s loyalty is anything but a promise of his life.

#x reader #reader insert #les does writing #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst sebek x reader #les 300 followers event

[twstwinnie]

Oh gosh I just stumbled on your writings your writing is so nice!, and I loved in a relationship with jamil and floyd they were so good 😭,im sorry if your getting a buncha these now may I request in a relationship with azul if thats ok?

✎ With You ~ Azul Ashengrotto

summary: the highly requested in a relationship with Azul! usual three categories! crushing, confession, and dating!

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, gn! reader

a/n: I adore azul— this just took me forever bc of writer’s block! but!! here he is! i’ll probably spin a wheel for who I do next, but if you’re curious, the current requested are: jack, epel, sebek, kalim, riddle, jade, and vil! so if you were looking out for them, they’re coming soon! also, i‘ve been considering making a tag list, so yeah! anyway, enjoy azul!! — winnie <3

✎ starry - eyed !

» Azul is the type to vehemently deny any feelings he may have towards you. When you first met, he assumed that his interest in you was nothing more than seeing you as a potential business prospect. He kept a close eye on you, but as time went on, his excuses became feeble in the face of what he felt.

» He’d keep insisting that your meetups are “business research,” even going as far as taking notes after every meeting in hopes to convince himself that that’s all it was. However, as time goes on, he finds that he doesn’t even think about finances or his business when he’s with you. He becomes entirely invested in conversations with you and the happenings of your life.

» Upon realizing that he isn’t doing the “research” he foolishly told himself he was doing, his avoidant tactics only increase in strength. He didn’t like you— he couldn’t.

» He wants to convince himself that it’s bad business to get emotionally involved— that there’s no room for romance in his world, but deep down, he knows it’s all an excuse. Truth be told, Azul is terrified at the prospect of liking you.

» With his history of bullying, Azul doesn’t have much of a positive self-image. The people close to him know that his confidence is fragile, and the bravado he hides behind is built on a foundation of power. However, when it comes to the romance world, Azul is playing on an even field with everyone else that may like you.

» In such a world, Azul fears that he has nothing to offer you.

» You’re kind and generous in a way no one else is. Azul’s underhanded tactics aren’t a suitable offering for you. And if power and money doesn’t appeal to you— what then? What can Azul possibly offer to you? What did he have that made him the most suitable option out of the countless people vying for your hand?

» Nothing. That’s what. That’s why Azul cannot like you. Because if he did, it’d be futile.

» There is no contract. He’d be giving his whole heart to you with no guarantee that you’d give anything in return. He’d leave himself vulnerable to being positively crushed by rejection. He could handle losing in business— such losses came with the field, but in love? Tell him— what proven strategies can be put in place to prevent pain or heartbreak? What insurance is there when your heart is tattered with the pain of rejection?

» There is none, and Azul knows this for certain. However, as time goes on, he finds himself unable to deny his feelings any longer as he spends more time with you.

» You happily listen to his business ramblings, propose event ideas for the Lounge, and you’ve even mastered the art of reigning in the Leech Twins. You fit in so perfectly into his life, but that only terrifies him more. He finds himself scared of losing you, but unable to commit himself to the idea of being infatuated by you.

» In response to this standstill, he draws away from you. This way, he becomes used to your absence instead of your presence. Then, should you learn of his feelings, the rejection won’t feel as harsh.

» What he doesn’t anticipate, however, is that you take notice. You recognize this behavior almost immediately. Not only that, you call him out on it.

» “Azul, why are you avoiding me?” you ask as you walk into the VIP room. Azul pauses, surprised at your sudden presence.

» “I— well… What gave you such an idea?” he questions, attempting to play oblivious. You roll your eyes.

» “Ashengrotto. I know you better than most. I can see through that farce of yours. I’m not mad or anything, I’m just worried,” you say as you sit in front of him. “Is it the lounge? Studying? Do you need my help with something?”

» The gentleness in your tone warms his heart. His face flushes red involuntarily. “What would you want in return?” he questions. You laugh.

» “This again? Nothing, Azul. I just want to help you because I like seeing you happy. So? Did something happen?” you ask, tilting your head curiously. Azul looks away, biting back a fond smile.

» He supposes that, if you’re offering, he might as well get clarification on his situation. Of course, he does so without telling you it’s about you.

» After he explains everything, you hum a bit.

» “Well, why are you so hung up on what you bring to the table?” you inquire. Azul halts.

» “Pardon?” Azul tilts his head.

» “Well, what I mean is that a relationship isn��t transactional, y’know? It’s not about if you can bring ‘power’ or ‘money’ to a relationship. In fact, I’d say that that’s useless,” you insist. Azul hums.

» “Then, what do you suppose is the most important quality?” he asks.

» You smile softly. “Aside from being a decent person? Whether or not the person you like likes you back. I know you don’t like things being out of your control, but that’s the truth. I mean— you like this person because you simply enjoy their company, right? Not because they bring anything to you,” you explain. Azul nods.

» “That… is correct,” he mumbles.

» “Exactly. So, who’s to say it’s any different for them? If they like your company, that’s more than enough. They won’t need power, fame, money, or any of that. In a relationship, you and your effort are enough, Azul.”

» Azul’s eyes go wide as you explain that to him. While yes, it’s a simple concept, it’s something an over thinker like him easily forgets. He can’t help but smile softly and thank you for your advice.

» It’s then and there that he decides he must confess to you. Not only did he already like you, but the way you approached his problem with a level head and a kind demeanor only solidified to him that you completed him. When he approached a situation with logic, you reminded him that sometimes, it was better to be emotional. And when he got too emotional, you grounded him with logic. Above all else, though, you support him through so much.

» And Azul is nothing if not competitive. He refused to lose to someone else. He had to show initiative and confess to you first. If he does, you’d know how serious he is about you.

» With that, he quickly starts drafting up a few ideas.

✎ say the words !

» In the journey to come up with the perfect confession to win your affections, Azul faces many obstacles. The biggest one being his competition.

» Azul tasked Jade and Floyd to keep tabs on people who also sought your companionship. This resulted in the knowledge that, apparently, you were getting confessed to on a near weekly basis. Jade mentioned a few names, but they were all faceless students that he didn’t quite remember.

» While Floyd, with a strangely giddy expression, would always report that you rejected the potential suitor, Azul still became nervous. Would the next confession be a rejection, or would you accept? How would his confession stand out amid so many others? Were you even interested in romance, or did you already have someone else in mind?

» Eventually, Azul decides that collaboration is the best way to go about it. Attempting to find an idea himself is like talking into an echo chamber— it results in no progress. Initially, he turns to the twins for assistance, but they both give him eerie smiles. Instead of helping, they insist that it’s “fun to watch him figure things out,” thus denying any assistance.

» Azul knows he won’t be able to convince them otherwise, so he seeks help elsewhere. He considers a few options: Jamil, Riddle, and Ruggie, but ultimately decides that those are people he’d rather not be open and vulnerable with. Eventually, he settles on discussing the matter with Idia during their club hours. While he was certain the other lacked romantic knowledge, he at least knew that he’d receive brutal honesty in regards to the situation.

» “Idia. I have an inquiry regarding a personal matter,” Azul starts. Idia narrows his eyes at him.

» “Uh… I have no interest in your shady dealings,” he mumbles. Azul huffs.

» “It has nothing to do with my perfectly sound business practices!” Azul shakes his head. “Actually, it has to do with romance.”

» “Huh?! Romance?! Whaaat… so even a shady antagonist can have a heart,” Idia mumbles before continuing. “Uhhh my knowledge doesn’t extend beyond video games. Why bother asking me?”

» “Because I know you’ll be impartial. Anyway, I have a… friend that I’m rather fond of,” Azul starts, but Idia quickly cuts him off.

» “Not to ruin your moment, but I know who you’re talking about. You’ve got low-tier stealth stats. It’s obvious you like them,” Idia mentions with a sigh. “I mean, they’re oblivious to it, but still. I’m guessing you want some s-rank confession to woo them?”

» Azul pauses, shutting his mouth and huffing. “Yes, I want to… ‘woo’ them. I have no idea how, though. I’ve drafted countless ideas, but all of them seem plain. During lunch hardly seems romantic, and the beach seems cliche. I’m at a loss,” Azul admits. Idia stares at him for a few moments.

» “Please tell me this is some weird joke. Are you being real right now?” Idia deadpans.

» “What? I’m hardly joking! I’m truly at a loss. Why else would I request assistance?” Azul mutters. Idia groans.

» “This is like grinding hours for a total OP secret weapon, then not even using it in the final battle,” Idia mumbles. “You have your glitzy lounge, right? Close it for a day and confess there. Seriously, I’m a newbie in romance and I could even think of that.”

» Azul goes silent as he thinks about it. He’d always viewed the Monstro Lounge as nothing more than a business prospect. Though, the atmosphere was certainly ideal. He made sure of it himself. You did quite enjoy studying there, too.

» Azul let out a long sigh. It was so obvious that he almost wanted to slap himself for not seeing it sooner.

» “That is a great idea, Idia. Thank you. I’ll close it down early Friday night, then. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have many preparations to make. And a lifetime of embarrassment to work through for not realizing such a simple solution,” Azul insists, quickly leaving the club room.

» With that, his plan is in motion. Jade and Floyd, while not willing to help him previously, are now willing to help put his plan into motion. They ensure that the Lounge is fully closed that night and pass on the invitation to you. Floyd cooks a specialized menu Azul put together, and Jade helps decorate for the occasion.

» After everything is ready, Azul awaits your arrival nervously. Floyd and Jade keep him company, though mostly tease him for being so clearly anxious.

» “Azul. At this rate, I’m afraid you’ll break the seat with how tightly you’re gripping it,” Jade mentions. Azul straightens, pulling his hands away from the chair he’d been leaning on.

» “Eh? To be fair his nervousness could be faaaaar worse. Imagine if we told him what we saw earlier~” Floyd teases. Azul tenses.

» “Oya, Floyd. We said we wouldn’t mention that to him. Now look at him. He’s even more fearful than before.” Jade smiles simply. Floyd laughs a bit.

» “Ah, well. Too late~ You know, they got confessed to earlier. It was another random bottom feeder, but~ figured it’d be better that you knew,” Floyd sings, smirking. Jade chuckles.

» “It shouldn’t be an issue. I’m certain,” Jade says. Before Azul can pry for details, footsteps echo through the lounge. “Oh? Seems our guest of honor is here. Good luck, Azul.”

» With that, Jade leaves, Floyd following him out. Azul lets out a shaky sigh and turns to face you, putting on his usual expression as you walk over, eyes wide as you take in the decor. Dainty lights were strung overhead and gentle flowers decorated the tables.

» “Wow, this is pretty. I knew you were closing early today, but I had no idea it was for this. What’s the occasion?” you ask with a bright grin. Azul smiles, pulling out your chair for you.

» “There’s no occasion. It’s simply a gift to you,” Azul states, seating himself after you. You give him a teasing smirk.

» “What’s this? Azul Ashengrotto giving me a gift with no strings attached? Color me surprised~” you hum. Azul blushes and rolls his eyes playfully.

» “You're speaking as if this is a one-time occasion. I’ve gifted you plenty in the past, you know. Or have you forgotten my generosity already?” Azul asks, faking a pout. You laugh gently.

» “Of course I haven’t forgotten. I could never forget the generosity and kindness that rivals that of the Sea Witch. I dunno… I guess it almost makes me feel special!” you mention. Azul pauses for a moment before looking at you.

» “It’s because you are special,” he blurts out suddenly. Your eyes widen and you go speechless. For a moment, the silence weighs heavy between you both before he clears his throat.

» “Forgive me… I know you’ve already leant your ear to another for a confession today, but could you listen to one more?” Azul asks softly, vulnerability lacing his tone. You wordlessly nod, keeping your eyes on him. Azul shifts a bit under your gaze but persists.

» “I’ve felt this strong affinity for you for quite some time now. At first, I thought it was just a mutually beneficial friendship, but then… I realized it was more than that. I tried to distance myself out of fear, but you managed to stop me before I could get far. You’ve always been good at recognizing when something’s troubling me.” Azul gives you a fond smile before continuing.

» “You reminded me that relationships don’t need to be transactional. That I’m enough. I greatly enjoy your company. I know you don’t want my money or my power, but it feels wrong to confess empty-handed. So, instead, in this verbal contract, I’d like to offer you two things.

» “First, a promise. I promise to do all in my power to make you happy, and to be a suitable partner. But more importantly, I’d like to offer you my heart. I cherish you more than any other. All I ask for in return… is an answer. Will you accept my confession, and the terms of my verbal contract?” Azul looks at you with bated breath. The air is tense and you don’t say a word, but soon, a few tears slip down your cheeks. Azul’s eyes widen and he rushes to your side.

» Before he can inquire about your well-being, you wrap your arms tightly around him, nuzzling your face in his neck.

» “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for that? Great Seven, I’ve rejected so many people just hoping that you might eventually say something. Yes. Of course I’ll accept. I’d love to be with you, Azul,” you express happily. Azul lets out a relieved sigh, embracing you and reveling in the feeling.

» “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. You have my sincerest apologies,” Azul mumbles. You shake your head, pulling back to smile at him.

» “You’ll always be worth the wait, Azul.”

✎ at last , with you !

» Unsurprisingly, given that they were eavesdropping the entire time, the Leech twins are the first to learn about you and Azul’s relationship. Now that you two are together, they reveal that they’ve known the feeling was mutual the entire time.

» Azul gapes at them, angrily asking why they hadn’t said anything sooner. Naturally, they respond that it’s far more interesting to let these things play out without interference. As irritated as he is at the notion, Azul feels grateful. He feels much more sound in his decision since he had time to truly think it over.

» However, that brings up more curious questions to him. How long have you liked him? Who else knew of your feelings? Was he the only one kept in the dark?

» With a laugh, you express that you’ve liked him for quite some time now. This shocks Azul beyond words, but it also makes him feel elated and secure in his relationship with you. He can’t help but feel just a tad cocky. All of these people were confessing to you, yet you still chose him? It’s quite the phenomenon!

» Of course, as usual, you insist that he’s the phenomenal one. You waited for him because you loved him, and that’s a fact he should never doubt. Azul knows it’ll be a struggle to get past his insecurities fully, but when he’s with you, it feels like that goal is far more manageable.

» As your relationship develops, you two eventually find a nice balance. Azul is still running a business in tandem with his studies, so he gets incredibly busy, but you have your own obligations, too. You’d think that you’d have no time to spend together, but Azul goes out of his way to make time for you.

» Whether you’re silently reading in his office while he works, or he’s going over paperwork in your room while you’re studying, you two always find ways to spend time together. Even if it’s just being together in silence while you’re both working, Azul feels at home. Being in your presence is enough to soothe him.

» However, every so often, your schedules align and you’re able to go on a proper date together. Azul plans these as far in advance as he possibly can. The moment he notices that your free time lines up, he’s planning a proper date with you.

» Azul is (secretly) a hopeless romantic, so he adores having romantic dates with you. When caught up in a cold world filled with emotionless business decisions, it feels nice for him to be able to step away into the warmth of your company. So, his dates reflect that accordingly. Whether it be a private dinner or a stroll beneath the stars, he makes sure every date is one to remember.

» You allow Azul to be himself when he’s with you. He isn’t trying to run a business, make deals, or keep his grades up. There is no facade for him to upkeep when with you. He’s the same, sensitive octomer that he's always been ever since he was young.

» At first, Azul is still weary of being vulnerable around you. After all, you’re his beloved partner! He can’t stand to show a shameless side of himself to you. He wants you to think highly of him. He wants to show you his best. He can’t imagine what you might think of him if he were to show you that younger, weaker side of himself, let alone his merform!

» This all changes after his overblot, though. You easily notice the build-up of stress and the increase in contracts, given that you’re always by Azul’s side. In the beginning, you turn a blind eye to it all, but once your friends get involved, it’s hard for you to play clueless much longer.

» You assist in the plan to take him down, fully expecting Azul to hate you for it. Azul expects much of the same. He took things too far, and he hurt you. When you tried to get him to stop on your own, he didn’t listen. Instead, he pushed himself beyond what he was capable of and showcased the ugliest parts of himself to you.

» When he wakes up, you expect him to be angry. Instead, you’re met with a look of sorrowful shame. Azul can’t meet your gaze, face flushed red and eyes glossy with tears.

» “I-I’m sorry… I’ve shown you something so unsightly and I nearly hurt you,” he mumbles. He mentally braces himself for the breakup— for you to turn away and leave him behind. The worst part about it? He’s powerless to stop you. He’s lost all of his contracts, but he doesn’t care about that anymore if it means losing you, too.

» However, he’s surprised to find that you don’t leave. You let out a relieved sigh, smiling at him warmly.

» “Azul. I’m hurt that you went that far, but I’m more hurt that you didn’t tell me you were struggling so much. I love you. All parts of you. You didn’t show me anything strange. In fact, I’m glad I saw everything,” you explain gently, leaning your head against his.

» Azul regards you with a fragile expression, eyes wide. “You… aren’t leaving? Why? Why stay?” Azul questions. You hum gently, running your fingers through his hair.

» “Because one mistake doesn’t define who you are as a person. You’re still my Azul, even with your past, present, and future mistakes. I love you as is, good and bad. I’m just glad you’re okay,” you mumble. Finally, in such an intimate moment, Azul fully lets his guard down and allows tears to slip.

» “I thought I lost you, too. I don’t care for those petty contracts if it means you’ll no longer love me,” Azul’s voice cracks as he speaks. You gently wipe his tears away, smiling as you pepper his face with gentle kisses.

» “You could never lose me, Azul. My heart is yours. Nothing will change that. Now, come on. You still need to heal, so rest. I’ll be here when you awaken again.”

» Throughout his recovery, you remain dutifully by Azul’s side. He feels incredibly grateful to you for it. You saw the things he tried so hard to erase and accepted him in his entirety. His true form, his pain, his past— none of it phased you. If anything, it gave you a better understanding of him.

» Azul gradually returns to his usual, slightly arrogant self, but you can see the change clear as day. He still uses his usual dealings and business practices, but he no longer uses it as a means of coping with his perceived weakness. Instead, when he does feel that lingering doubt, he turns to you for support.

» And when he’s resting in your arms after a hard day of managing the lounge, he knows that he has no need to hoard power for the sake of protecting himself.

» After all, his heart is in the most capable hands possible.

» He’s yours. And that’s all he’ll ever need.

— fin.

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